#shes holding a knife . ignore that pls

[criminalamnesia]

Simon x Reader whose already work with TF 141 for a pretty long time. And one day, there's a traitor around the base, leaking their information. All of the proof are leading to reader but reader always deny it! And they interrogated reader, and reader always deny it! And he's (with other 141 members, of course, but it mostly him) do their torture methods to get information out of reader. They keep doing it until someday, the real traitor finally captured!

And make the reader traumatized, pls. Like, she would have trust issues, trauma, and others. She wouldn't forgive them, tho.

ooooo the angst. had to sit on this one for a few days before I wrote something, but here goes nothing.

ALL PARTS CAN BE FOUND HERE

when you blink open your eyes, the room is dimly lit. it’s silent save for the sounds of your labored breathing.

you must’ve passed out. one second johnny— a man you’d known for years—was slicing into your skin with a knife. the next, you’re staring into an empty room.

your hands jerk up involuntarily. still bound. the rope holding them to the arms of the chair have rubbed them raw. the skin is bright red and bloody. it makes you grit your teeth.

you look down at your lap, taking inventory of the parts of your body you can see. large gashes break up the fabric of your tac pants. the blood surrounding the deep wounds is dry and crusty.

one of the cuts looks like it’s getting infected. you swear you can see bone.

you’d taken this kind of suffering before. been capture by enemies, held and tortured and pushed to the brink of death. this was different. this was being done by your team. men you’d bled with. cried with. laughed with.

one you’d even slept with. the same one you loved. the one you called yours.

the door to the room swung open, hitting the wall with a metal thud. your head slowly lifts, eyes squinting to see him. by his stature, you know it’s simon.

he doesn’t bother shutting the door behind him. instead, he walks towards you slowly. as he comes closer, can make out his eyes in the sea of dark paint he smears around them. the same paint you’d helped him apply a time or two.

“back for more?” you say, and it’s meant to sound sarcastic, but all it sounds like is pitiful. your voice cracks, and pain seeps into your tone.

the first rule they’d taught you about scenarios like this was to never let the enemy know it’s working. never let them know that they’re hurting you— that they’re slowly wearing down your defenses.

well, you’d just broken that rule, and you hadn’t even meant to.

you didn’t know how long you’d been tied up, subjected to torture by men you had once called your family. all because a fucking liar whispered your name into their ears. all because they fucking believed it.

apparently the years meant nothing to them. to him, least of all, considering he’d done more damage to you than the rest of them.

simon comes to a stop in front of you. his hands are empty by his sides, but that’s not reassuring. there’s a table full of weapons off to the side. he would have his pick of the litter.

“ready to talk yet?” he says, and his voice is gruff. his tone is hollow. he’s speaking to you the same way he’d spoken to countless enemies. it makes you sick.

“fuck you, simon,” you spit out.

the betrayal of john, gaz, and johnny had hurt. but simon’s betrayal? that was enough to almost put you in the ground.

you’d stopped pleading with them the second they tied you to the chair. now, you were angry. furious. rage filled your veins, and if you weren’t beaten to all hell, you’d find a way out of these fucking restraints and strangle the man in front of you to death.

the man you loved. you’d thought you meant something to him, but apparently not— because who tortures someone they love?

“if you talk,” he ignores your outburst. “it’ll be easier. quick.”

“fuck. you.” you enunciate the words, your jaw impossibly tight as you grit your teeth. “im not the fucking rat.”

“all the evidence,” he starts as he disappears from your vision. you know he’s going to pick his weapon of the hour. you force yourself not to shudder.

“points to you.”

“take that bullshit evidence and shove it up your ass, riley,” you seethe, ropes pulling taut as you lean forward in the chair.

he’s back in your line of sight now, brandishing a large knife.

“you’re only making it harder on yourself, love,” he tuts, and then he’s swinging the knife down, right onto one of your fingers.

you scream as the blade cuts right through skin and bone. your teeth dig into your lip, drawing blood as you refuse to give him more of a reaction. it fucking hurts, but you’ll be damned if you let yourself cry.

“feel like talking now?” he asks, watching as half of your left pinky finger falls to the floor.

“or should we take off another?”

you look up at him, hoping he can see the hatred in your eyes as you speak your next words. “you could take the fucking hand off and I’d still have nothing to tell you.”

“let’s see how true that is then, eh?” he replies, and raises the knife again. he’s about to swing, when someone comes running into the room.

“ghost!”

it’s johnny. he’s obviously winded as he stops beside simon, dropping his hands to his knees as he struggles for breath.

“what, mactavish? im busy.”

“they’re—” he gasps. “they’re not— the— rat.” he says between breaths.

the room goes impossibly still. so quiet you swear you could hear the men’s heartbeats (or maybe that pounding in your ears was your own).

“you sure?” simon’s voice is softer as he lowers the knife and turns to johnny. the younger man nods, his eyes trained on you. you can see the regret in them, the sorrow.

“it’s fucking shepard.”

it’s not funny, but at the news, you burst into laughter. the men stare at you in confusion, but you can’t stop.

you’re laughing so hard you’re crying, and they’re just standing there.

“are you alrigh’?” johnny’s asking as he moves towards you. he’s fully recovered his breath now, and he drops to a crouch to be eye level with you.

you don’t answer— you can’t. you keep laughing. distantly, you hear the knife simon was holding clatter to the ground. can just make out the sound of more footsteps out in the hallway, coming towards the room.

you pass out.

when you wake up again, you’re in the infirmary. your eyes open slowly, adjusting to the bright fluorescent lights.

“easy, love,” a voice to your right drawls.

your eyes are fully open now. you look down at yourself, noticing the lack of bindings. noticing the iv taped to your arm, the stitched cuts, the black and blue bruises, the missing fingernails and missing finger.

the person sitting next to you clears his throat. that’s when you look up and meet the eyes of your captain.

your captain. the man who was supposed to lead you, to keep you safe. what a fucking joke. he’d started the damn witch hunt.

“how d’you feel?” he asks, his words soft, like he’s trying not to scare off a timid animal.

you stare at him for a beat. then two. then you’re moving, pulling the iv from your arm and shakily pushing yourself up in the bed. price is telling you to stop, reaching out to push you back down, but you slap at his hands.

“get the fuck off me!” you shout, and that takes him aback. he stops, frozen, as he watches you shift in the bed. you throw your legs over the side of it and prepare yourself to stand.

“you really shouldn’t—” he begins after he’s regained his senses, but you pay him no mind. you place your feet on the ground and start to stand. your legs wobble, almost give out, but you’re able to stand. barely.

“shut up,” you growl, stumbling forward and towards the exit. he’s moving to cut you off, and you slide him a gaze that’s sharper than a knife. “and leave me the fuck alone.”

he halts again. he seems almost scared of you— but that can’t be right. even on your best days, he would still beat you in hand-to-hand combat.

he’s not scared of your threats or your frail body. he’s scared of what he’s done to you.

just then, johnny and gaz come through the infirmary doors.

“cap, y’alright? we heard yellin’—” johnny begins, but his mouth snaps shut at the sight of you out of bed.

you’re heaving from your spot next to the bed. your legs are shaking violently, threatening to give out any second. you feel nauseous and numb.

“let’s get you back into bed,” gaz says, and he starts towards you, but you stop him as your gaze snaps to his.

“don’t come any fucking closer. any of you.”

“bonnie,” johnny murmurs. he sounds miserable, but you don’t care. don’t give a fuck about how any of them feel.

“don’t. im leaving,” you grunt out, moving a foot forward slowly. you’d be damned if you fell in front of them.

“you can’t, love. you’re in no shape to be walking.” john says, and you snarl.

“and whose fault is that?”

the men stay silent as they watch you slowly shuffle towards the foot of the bed. you’re bracing yourself to walk on your own when simon walks in.

“get back in bed,” his tone is blunt. you ignore him.

you remove your hand from the bed, move to take a step forward without support, and you begin to crumple to the floor.

simon moves forward, quick as a cat, and catches you. he lifts you into his arms bridal style, and you’re screaming hysterically. your limbs are flailing the best they can in such a battered state. you’re in fight-or-flight mode, your body betraying your desire to put up a steely front.

your palms slap against simon’s upper body and his masked face. he gives no reaction. he doesn’t say anything. the others are watching the exchange silently. the room is buzzing with tension.

“get off me!” you screech, landing a slap to simon’s cheek. “let me— let me go! let me go!” you’re gasping for breath, tears streaming down your cheeks. you’re panicking. your heart feels like it’s going to beat out of your chest.

“put me down! get— get— off me! stop—” you sob.

the doctor rushes into the room then, yelling at the men for allowing you out of bed. you can’t make out what she’s saying over the rush of blood in your ears. you feel light-headed. you can’t breathe.

“put them down, now!” the doctor yells at simon. “they’re having a panic attack— I thought I told you four to stay away from them? they’re too vulnerable right now—” the doctor is chastising them as simon places you back in the bed.

spots are dancing in your vision. you don’t even feel it when the doctor sticks another needle into your arm. the words being exchanged above your head are muffled. it’s like you’re underwater.

john’s face comes into view, then johnny’s, then gaz’s. as your eyes start to close, you notice the only face you don’t see again is simon’s.

when you wake up again, it’s been two weeks.

the doctor had put you into a medically induced coma to allow your more serious wounds time to heal, without risking another episode. unbeknownst to you, the members of your team had stayed by your bedside almost the entire time— minus simon. he hadn’t come within ten feet of the infirmary since the day of your panic attack.

there’s fresh flowers on the bedside table. a steady beeping of the heart monitor. a fuzzy feeling in your head.

it feels like a dream, all of it does. none of it feels real as you settle into your body again. but then the hurt starts, and you remember the truth.

your family betrayed you. your lover betrayed you. they locked you up and tortured you. they didn’t believe you.

when the doctor came to your side to check your iv, she smiled.

“how’re you feeling?”

you look up at her, and it takes a moment for you to speak.

“don’t,” you begin. your mouth feels like it’s full of cotton. “don’t let them…in here. don’t…wanna see them.”

the doctor nods in understanding, and she doesn’t say anything else to you. she turns and walks out of the room.

the door clicks shut behind her. she lets out a sigh before turning around to face the three men.

“they don’t want to see you.” she tells them, and their expressions drop. they don’t protest, and like wounded puppies, they walk off.

no one else comes to check on you for a few hours.

you’re in and out of consciousness— can’t tell what’s real and what’s a dream. flashes of your torture come back to you. flashes of a smile. of a scarred face. of hands on your hips and—

you crack your eyes open, and the room is dark. the only light is the blinking of some of the machines. it illuminates the room enough to allow you to see a large, dark figure slip from the room. the door clicks shut so quietly it’s almost imperceptible.

that’s when you notice fresh flowers on the bedside table.

your eyes start to droop once more, and you chalk up whatever you just saw to a dream, while simon exhales heavily on the other side of the infirmary door.

————————————————

authors note:

I hope this alright! it’s one in the morning (and I’m half asleep writing this) so I apologize for the errors that are most likely present, and the sense this most likely lacks. I feel like I could write a whole book about this idea, but im cutting myself off to sleep lol.

thank you for the ask, I hope I did your idea justice. 🫶

[itsallyscorner]

At Fault | MV1

pairing: Max Verstappen x reader

summary: Max invites his ex to a gp and upsets you. Soft and stubborn Max, but he’s a cutie. A mix between angst and fluff, but mostly fluff towards the end. Lots of reader just ranting. Plus a little cameo from the Ferrari WAGs <3.

warnings: Does Kelly count as a warning? Kinda of toxic, I’m not really sure? But who actually likes seeing their boyfriend’s ex girlfriend??

author’s note: Italics are flashbacks! This turned out longer than expected, but I hope you guys like it! It’s also been a while since I’ve written fics, so it there are any errors pls ignore them😭

The tension in the car was thick. So thick, Max believed he could cut it with a knife.

Your arms were crossed as you stared out the window while Max glanced at you wearily every other second. Thankfully, there were only three of you in the car. You and Max in the backseat, and the driver in front being separated by a divider. Though, Max was sure the driver was able to hear the current disagreement between you and him.

Max fidgeted with the lanyard of his paddock pass and stared at the side of your face. He knew he had upset you and honestly you had every right to be. You were biting the inside of your cheek in frustration trying to keep your emotions at bay. As much as you wanted to argue with Max about how you disagreed with his actions, he was due to race in a couple of hours and you didn’t want to add any more stress on his shoulders.

But Max wanted to talk about this now while you were both alone.

“Schatje, are you really mad?” Max asked quietly, leaning closer to you and trying to get you to face him. He truly didn’t mean to dampen your mood before the race. Most importantly, he didn’t like that he was the reason for you being upset. Your brows furrowed ever so slightly and a faint pout was on your lips, both indications that you were in fact not happy with him.

“Yes, Max, I am mad.” You answered, your voice trembling a bit. You had finally turned away from the window and were looking at him. Max felt a pang of guilt in his heart once he saw the look in your eyes. They weren’t glaring at him with the heat of anger, but they were soft and glossy, you were hurt—he hurt you.

Max cautiously reached out for your hand and tangled your fingers together, though your hand felt limp, like you didn’t want to hold his hand at all.

“I told you the truth.” Max said, leaning his head down trying to catch your eyes again. You took in a deep breath before turning to fully face him.

“Yes Max, you did and I absolutely appreciate it. I really do.” You began, grasping his hand between yours. “But that doesn’t make up for that fact that you’ve had this planned out for nearly a month and only told me thirty minutes ago!” You argued.

Thirty minutes ago, before your ride to the paddock can pick you guys up, Max had revealed that his ex-girlfriend, Kelly, and her daughter would be at the garage to watch the race. When you asked how they got passes to the garage, he shared that he had flown them out and provided them with passes for the weekend.

“So she’s been here all weekend?” You questioned him, arms crossed and a brow raised at him. The Italian heat felt even ten times worse as you grew frustrated with your boyfriend.

“Yeah, but they were at the Paddock Club, they’re going to watch the race from the garage though.” Max shrugged, as if it were not a big deal. He adjusted the bag on his shoulder and grasped your hand in his free one.

You couldn’t help the feeling of insecurity seeping into your bones. Kelly was rich and gorgeous, she was a model, and you weren’t. You had a normal job that offered you stability, paid you good money, and you knew how to clean up nice. However, you were no where near her level of anything or any of the other WAGs at that.

“You’ve known this whole time that she was here?” You asked quietly, your brows furrowed at him. You hated that you kept asking him questions, it was like you were interrogating him.

Max looked down at you, confusion etched on his face, “I did, schatje. I flew them out and got them some paddock passes.” You acted before you could speak, and shook your head at him, rolling your eyes in annoyance. Your boyfriend was one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, however, many people took that as a sign to take advantage of him. While it took him longer to realize it, you noticed it instantly.

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset though, I told you the truth, it’s not like I’m doing anything with her.” Max defended himself, his hands wildly moving around. “She reached out telling me that P missed me and wanted to come to a race, it’s not for her, it’s for Penelope.”

“I understand that Max and as harsh as this sounds, Penelope isn’t your responsibility. I get that you helped raise her, but you guys broke up, you don’t need to provide for her anymore.” You threw a hand in the air, emphasizing your point. “Kelly’s fully capable of flying herself out and buying tickets to a race weekend.”

“I was just being nice.” Max raised his voice, also growing frustrated with the situation.

“And she’s still using you!” You fumed, tears welled in the corner of your eyes. “How many times does she have to use you for you to realize it? You guys broke up and she still manages to get what she wants out of you! Do you know how embarrassing it is to walk in and see her there?” You tried to reason with him. While many of his fans didn’t approve of Kelly, you knew Twitter would have a field day clowning you when they find out Kelly was present in the garage. Social media was never always a nice place and you’ve learned to ignore it, but that didn’t mean it stopped the hate from happening.

Max ran a hand through his hair and sighed.

“This is ridiculous.” He muttered under his breath, you scoffed and leaned back into your seat, staring at the window again.

“Do you not trust me?” Max asked forcibly, staring at the side of your head again. You let out a defeated sigh and turn your head to look at him, “I do trust you, Max.”

Max’s shoulders slouched as he leaned on the seat sideways, his body fully turned to you.

“Then why do you not trust me with this?” He pushed, nudging your knee with his, trying to get an answer out of you. He knew he was at fault and he just wanted to make it right.

“I don’t trust her.” You simply answered, feeling done with the conversation. The car turned, nearing the entrance of the paddock. You sniffled as you untucked your hair from behind your ears, removing your sunglasses from the top of your head.

“You don’t have to worry about her, schatje. I want you not her, there’s a reason why we broke up.” Max reassured, trying to ease the tension between the two of you.

The car came to a halt, a knock came from the driver, indicating that you guys arrived at the paddock. Before you could leave, you turned to Max and said, “Yet, she’s still here.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Entering the paddock was always a frenzy. The moment you stepped out the car, fans were quick to recognize you, knowing that one of their favorite drivers were right behind you. You slid your sunglasses on and smoothed out the white maxi dress you wore. Max followed in suit and flashed a smile at the fans.

Shouldering his bag, he held his hand out to you, “I know you’re upset, but can I please hold your hand?”

You nodded and entangled your fingers with his. The two of you began your walk into the paddock hand in hand, as fans screamed and waved at Max. He gave your hand a squeeze before guiding you guys to some of the barricades and signing a few things for the fans.

After you guys scanned your passes, Max led you guys to the Red Bull garage. However, you came to a halt. Max was quick to look back at you, “You okay?”

“Yeah—I’m gonna meet up with Alex and Rebecca, if that’s okay? We were planning on seeing each other before the race.” You tell him. A small pout formed on Max’s lips, “Oh, okay, I’ll drop you off.” He offered, still holding your hand.

You and the girls decided to meet up at the Paddock Club. In front of the entrance, Max stood in front of you.

“You’ll come to the garage to watch, right? I need you there.” He asked quietly, so that people passing by cannot hear your conversation.

You nodded, “Yeah, I’ll be there before you’re in the car.”

Max mirrored your actions, “Okay, I love you.” He pulled you in by the waist and pressed a kiss onto your forehead. You squeezed his waist in response, “I love you too.”

Max watched as you entered the building, huffing to himself, while he watched you walk further and further into the building.

Placing your sunglasses above your head, you scan the room until you see one of the girls, Alex was the first to spot you, standing in her spot and waving at you to come over.

“Coucou mon amour!” She greeted you, (Hello, my love!) immediately wrapping you in a hug. You squeal as she squeezed you, “Helloo!” You giggled. You go to greet Rebecca, who is immediately giving you a knowing look. Being the older one amongst the three of you, she was often looked up to as the older sister.

She wrapped an arm around you and smoothed your back, “What’s wrong?” She asked while you got situated in the chair beside her.

You shook your head, “It’s just Max.”

Rebecca grabbed the bottle of champagne on the table and poured some into a flute glass. She offered you the glass, “Thank you, I needed this.”

She smiled watching you take a long sip from the glass, “Oh honey, I know.”

Alex pouted and nudged your foot with hers, “What happened with Max?”

“He invited Kelly to watch the race at the garage today.” You bluntly shared, slumping yourself in your chair.

Rebecca’s eyes widened, “Shut up.”

You raised a brow at her, “Oh, I didn’t even get to the kicker yet.”

Alex’s brows raised, “Which is?”

“He flew her out—he fucking flew her out and gave her tickets for the entire weekend.” You revealed through gritted teeth, still being aware of your surroundings. Rebecca cursed under her breath as Alex took your glass and refilled it with champagne.

Grabbing the glass, you continued, “She’s literally been here all weekend and he only told me this morning. I just don’t get it, they broke up, I don’t know why he’s still so concerned about her.” You took another long sip of champagne,

“What was the reason why?” Rebecca asked you.

“Apparently Penelope missed him—which I can believe, but did he really have to do all the providing when she can financially support herself? I get that he was trying to be nice, but still.” You grunt, fiddling with your glass.

Alex comfortingly rubbed your arm, “No, I get it, if Charles did the same thing with his ex, I’d also be upset.”

“I literally told him that she’s using him once again.” You threw your hands up. “If he wants her to be there so much, he might as well just get back with her. Like—am I crazy for losing my mind at the fact they were in contact with each other, even if it wasn’t in a romantic sense?”

Rebecca shook her head, “No, your feelings are absolutely valid. You’re just concerned and it obviously caught you off guard. He shouldn’t have been texting his ex in the first place.”

You groaned and held your head in your hands, “I hate feeling like this, it makes me question if he actually wants to be with me or not.”

Rebecca held her finger up, “I’m gonna stop you right there.” Placing her hand on your shoulder she says, “Max might be acting very stupid right now, but one thing I know for sure is that Max loves you and absolutely adores you. Without a doubt.”

Alex nodded, agreeing with Rebecca, “Like have you seen the way he looks at you? He literally worships the ground you walk on. I’m sure he’s beating himself up right now for doing what he did.”

“He loves you, (y/n), everyone who’s seen you guys together knows it. I don’t think he’d put himself in this kind of position on purpose, you’ve got that man wrapped around your finger, babe.” Rebecca reassured you, throwing her arm around your shoulder and pulling you into another hug.

“Come on cheer up, who cares if she’s in the garage today? You’re the one he’s gonna be going home with tonight.” You laughed shaking your head at her teasing.

“Hey! Tonight and every single night!” Alex pointed out raising her glass at you.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Two hours. It’s been two hours since Max has dropped you off at the Paddock Club and he still hasn’t heard back from you. He’s been distracted all day. During a meeting with Christian and some of the engineers, he couldn’t help but constantly check for a text from you, earning himself a scolding from the team principal. Checo and a couple of people from the team tried talking to him, but he wasn’t paying attention. His eyes wandered wondering when you would enter the garage.

He did in fact see Kelly and P—obviously he was expecting to see them since he invited them, but all he felt while talking to them was guilt. Guilty because he remembered the look of hurt and betrayal in your eyes and how he was the reason behind it. He hated it, he felt grimy, and dirty for going behind your back and texting Kelly. Not even ten minutes into catching up with the mother and daughter, Max realized that you were in fact correct. Kelly had used him again, instantly making advances on him despite knowing he was happily taken. But for the sake of P, Max made sure to be friendly though kept his distance to not feed into her mother’s schemes.

It was nearing lights out and you were still not in the garage. He had gone through his warm ups with Bradley, had his fireproofs and suit on, and even laced up his shoes. Still, no sight of you whatsoever in the garage. He was beginning to worry about you, sending you a couple of messages to your phone.

The car was due to be on the grid and there was about half an hour left till lights out. Max looked around the bustling garage, checking to see if you had snuck in without him seeing, though to no avail, you still weren’t there.

“Max…Max…Max?” GP tried to get Max’s attention. Snapping a finger in front of the driver’s face, Max’s eyes flickered over to his race engineer.

“What do you want now?” Max groaned, throwing his head back. To onlookers, it looked like a typical interaction between Max and GP. Though, GP felt like he was babysitting a child whose attention span couldn’t focus on one thing for more than a few seconds.

“Mate, I’ve been talking to you for the past five minutes.” GP claimed. Choosing to ignore the information he had just “briefed” Max on, he decided to be a friend.

“Where’s your head at?” GP asked Max. The Dutch man sighed, leaning against one of the storage units in the garage.

“I messed up with (y/n). I did something and it was my fault, I know it was. But she’s not happy with me at the moment and I just want to make it right.” Max summarized, not sharing any more details to protect the privacy of your relationship.

GP motioned towards Kelly who was talking to one of the other influencers in the garage, “Does it have to deal with that?”

“Unfortunately.” Max mumbled, crossing his arms and choosing to stare at the floor.

GP took a minute to stare at his driver. Max was deflated, he wasn’t as hyped for the race or over explaining some random fact about god knows what. Instead, Max kept to himself, greeting people when he had to and communicating with his team prior to the race. Other than that, Max chose to stare at his phone and look longingly outside the garage.

“Listen, I don’t know what exactly went down. But I’ve seen you with (y/n) and she clearly makes you happy, we’ve all see how lively you are with her around. You’ve got a lot of groveling to do bud, but it’ll be worth it.” GP advised, clapping Max on the back to wake him up.

“She’ll always be worth it.” Max quietly said, taking another glimpse at his phone. Only to be met with his wallpaper of you and him, with no notifications.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

Christian Horner stared at his monitor at the pit wall watching as drivers and their teams gathered on the grid. He saw Checo by his car, taking a few sips of water before the race. When the camera panned to Max’s Red Bull, the driver was no where to be seen. Sparing him a second of wondering where his driver was, the camera cut to the garage where Max stood, race suit at his waist, looking no where near ready to participate in the race.

“Why is Max not in the car?” He turned to GP, stress evident on his face. GP turned in his seat and looked back into the garage to see Max pacing. Cursing under his breath, he excused himself from Christian and rushed to Max.

“Max, the race is literally about to start!”

Max stops his pacing and places his hands at his hips, “I need my girlfriend.”

“What?” Bradley and GP both stuttered out. Max deadpanned at the two men in front of him.

“(Y/n), I need to see her before the race.” Max demanded. Bradley pinched the bridge of his nose, “Max, she’ll be here after the race, you’ll be fine.” He pushed the balaclava towards Max’s chest, who simply let the mask fall at his feet.

GP sighed at Max, before calling one of the Red Bull employees.

“Please send out a search for (y/n), Max is refusing to get in the car.” He whispered to the intern. The girl looked at him confusingly but nodded and set out the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You rushed as best as you could in kitten heels towards the Red Bull garage. You were supposed to be at the garage at least half an hour ago. You and the girls got caught up catching up with each other’s lives that none of you realized it was getting close to lights out. It truly was a funny sight, the three of you rushing out of the Paddock Club and running through the paddock like a bunch of maniacs.

“(Y/n)!” You heard someone yell. You stopped in your steps and looked around, only to see a girl dressed in Red Bull uniform. You recognized her, you believed her name was Nicole and was an intern for the team this season.

“Hey! Is Max on the grid already?” You approached her, a little sad that you missed seeing him before the race.

“No, he’s actually waiting for you. They’re sending out a search for you because he’s refusing to get in the car.” Nicole explained, placing a gentle hand on your back and guiding you through the crowd of fans and towards the garage.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

GP released a sigh of relief once he saw you enter the garage. He shoved Max’s shoulder to avert his attention to you.

“What—oh,” Max began, only to stop himself and rush towards you. You met him half way, placing a hand on his elbow.

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t meant to stay there for too long.” You quickly apologized. Max shook his head, “I don’t care, I’m just happy you’re here.”

Your brows furrowed at him, “Why are you here? Why aren’t you in the car yet?”

Max placed both his hands on your waist with a faint blush on his cheeks, “I need my goodluck kiss.”

You paused your actions, “You’re kidding me. Max, the race is about to start in five minutes!” You scolded your boyfriend.

“Please, schatje.” He pleaded, leaning closer towards you. Other team members and guests watched the both of you, the scene in front of them peaking their interests.

You gazed up at his stormy eyes, giving in because you knew he was stubborn and wouldn’t stop until he got his way. Plus, the team would hate you if you lowered their chances of scoring points this weekend.

“Just because I kiss you doesn’t mean I’m not mad at you anymore.” You clarified quietly. His forehead nodded against yours, “I know schatje. I promise to make it up to you, I really do.”

A small smile forms on your lips, “I know, Maxie.”

Max takes that as his sign to crash his lips onto yours. One of his hands support the back of your neck while the other rests on your lower back. You smile against his lips, pulling back and placing a peck right above the small mole on his upper lip.

“I love you.” You whispered to him.

“I love you too.” He whispered back. Before you can fully pull away from him he quickly adds, “I’m serious about my promise.”

“I know, baby.” You squeeze him comfortingly. “Now get out there and win the race. Stay safe.”

He pressed a kiss to your forehead as both you and GP ushered him towards his gear that’s been waiting to be put on.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

A man of his word, Max won the race. With at least a five second gap between him and Lando, your boy was top step yet once again. As much as he won, the thrill of seeing him win and crossing the finish line never got old. You celebrated every win of his as if it were his first. You’d always be proud of him, whether he got pole or not.

Many of the engineers and members of the team began to rush towards the grid, eager to greet Max once he got out the car.

Looking around, you suddenly make eye contact with Kelly, who seemed to have been sizing you up. You weren’t really sure what look was on her face, but the hints of a snarl were on her lips. With her nose stuck up in the air, you watched as she carried her daughter and began to follow the rest of the team.

“Don’t mind her. You’re the one he wants to see when he gets out that car.” A voice said from beside you. You jumped, coming face to face with Christian. Your eyes widened at your boyfriend’s boss. Prior to the race, he was informed of the search party the entire team had for you to get Max in the car. While he was annoyed earlier, he thought it was rather cute that Max was so fond of you.

“You know, he’s never begged her for a good luck kiss.” Said Christian, a knowing look on his features. “You on the other hand—he can’t seem to function whenever you’re not around.”

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know he was gonna put that much of a fight earlier today.” You apologized, feeling a bit flustered. “He’s a bit stubborn sometimes.” You added, to which Christian chuckled at.

“Oh, I know. Max and I have worked together for years.” He stated. He glanced out the garage and motioned towards it, “C’mon now, I’m sure he’s already looking for you.”

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

You make your way through the crowd of Red Bull members, many of them recognizing you and helping you squeeze through till you were at the very front of the barricade.

Max was already out, helmet in his hand, while his other embraced GP and a couple other engineers. You watched as he high-fived Penelope, barely sparing a glance at her mother. A little burst of pride went off in your stomach, you couldn’t help it.

His blue orbs scanned the crowd of red and blue, looking for you. You yell his name, his eyes immediately finding yours. A smile breaks out on his face as he rushed over to you, dropping his helmet in the process. Despite the barricade between you two, he wraps both his arms tightly around you, lifting you off the ground.

“Max!” You squealed, your arms wrapping around his neck. His large hand found your cheek, slightly pulling you away from his neck so he can connect his lips with yours. Naturally, your lips moulded perfectly against his moving in synch. The team erupted in cheers around you.

“I’m so proud of you!” You tell him once your lips separate.

“I couldn’t have done it without you.” He grins, gently pinching your bottom lip between his pointer finger and thumb.

He couldn’t stay long, being told that he had to get to the podium for the trophy ceremony.

“I’ll see you after the podium, schatje!” He yelled with a wink over his shoulder, causing a blush to form on your cheeks.

ଓ⋆˙⟡₊ ⊹

The ceremony and the media tent took a while, you finally got to see Max an hour later. You were sitting in his driver’s room, when he bursted through the door already looking for you.

You stood up, smiling at him, “Hey.”

He mirrors your smile. Placing the trophy on the couch he opens his arms for you. You walk into the comfort of his hold, burying your head into the crook of his neck and wrapping your arms around his torso.

Finally it was just the two of you.

“I’m sorry.” You said, though it came out muffled against his skin. Max’s hands stopped the circular motions they were rubbing on your back.

“For what?”

You pulled back looking at him, “I overreacted about the whole Kelly thing. I should’ve taken your word for it.”

Max immediately shook his head, disagreeing with you. “No, you were absolutely right about her. I should’ve listened to you from the beginning. The moment I said hi to them she was already trying to come onto me—I avoided her by the way, I just entertained P.”

“I’m also sorry for what I said about P. I was in the wrong for that comment.” You said, a small grimace on your face when you remembered the off hand comment you made about the poor child.

Max chuckled, “Schatje, seriously, it’s okay.”

His calloused hands were rough against the soft skin of your face. He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear and cradled your jaw in his hand.

“I may have a soft spot for P, but they’re in my past. You’re my future, (y/n). The future that I only want and see myself in.” Max admitted. Your eyes gleamed at him, “You’re the future I want too, Maxie.”

“Good because you’re not getting rid of me that easily. You’re stuck with me.” He joked, squeezing your cheeks.

“I love you. So much. I know it seemed like I didn’t trust you today, but I want you to know that I do. I fully trust you with my life and I mean it.” You said, your fingers playing with the ends of his hair at the nape of his neck.

Max nodded, “I believe you. I love you too.”

The two of you basked in the silence and comfort of being in each others arms. Max was the first one to break the silence, “You don’t have plans after this right?”

You hummed against his neck, “Besides celebrating your win, nothing. Why?”

“Because I’m taking you out on a date.” Max proudly announced, a goofy smile on his lips.

“Don’t you wanna celebrate with the team?” You asked him. Max shook his head, “Nope, the only person I want to celebrate with tonight is you.”

You giggled at Max’s antics, “Whatever you say, Champ.”

[aliidarling]

Ok so reader only know ghostface without the mask and one day catches him take off his mask during a kill and she says that’s hot and he finds out she has a mask kink and maybe like predator prey with squirting ?

He’s lucky she’s into bad boys. Fluff to nsfw

make you mine

ETHAN LANDRY x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable!

summary: you have a study date with your crush and walk in on him wearing his silly ghostface robe

warnings: smut, p in v, blood, oral, light choking, creampie, sweet and mean ethan kinda, mask kink, ethan is our cute psycho bae

i hope you like it :) i’m sorry i didn’t really know how to include predator prey

nsfw content below !!

it had been a few months since you met ethan. he was all you’ve ever wanted— sweet, caring, smart, and dorky. you were into all the same things, from star wars down to gaming. the only thing that wasn’t identical between the two of you were your study habits.

you wouldn’t say you were a troubled student, no, you were struggling student. you needed help, and who’s better to help you then your hot crush who happens to be a straight A+ student?

you had talked it over with him the other day and you both agreed you’d come down to his dorm tonight for a study date— session. he said chad was with tara tonight so it would be just the two of you, ridding you of chads loud yelling. chad was nice, you loved him, but he could get quite a bit annoying when it comes to his gaming or sports shows.

so here you stood, knocking on ethan’s dorm door. silence is all that answered you. you were quite annoyed, you had been standing here for a few minutes now, staring at the wood in your face and waiting for it to open. but thus, no answer. worst part? you could hear the sound of someone walking around and moving things inside. ethan was home. was he ignoring you?

“ethan?” you call out, now getting a little worried. there had been a killer on the loose recently, going by the name ghostface. his shrieking mouth and wide black eyes lingered in your head, for good and bad reasons you didn’t wanna discuss. a voice whispered in your ear, telling you ethan was in trouble inside.

your hand found its way on the handle and slowly turned it, blinking in surprise when it opens with a small creak. it wasn’t like ethan or chad to leave their door ever unlocked. odd.

you step in and immediately freeze at the sight of blood trails on the ground, splattered over the floor and leading to ethan’s room. you gulp nervously and quickly lock the door behind you, worriedly rushing to his kitchen to grab a knife before slowly walking towards his bedroom.

you peeked your head in, looking around the dark young adult room. he had a large bed in the corner of the room, with dozens of pillows and a plaid navy blue blanket, his clothes hanging on the edges. his desk was next to his bed, also working as his nightstand, with his gaming set up on the top. you loved his gaming set up, it was always fun to play on it or watch him play himself.

but it wasn’t how messy his room was that had you gaping in shock— no, it was the sight of him standing in the middle of the room with his back to you, black robe stained with bloody smears on his body, and a familiar mask in his hands. he was looking around the room in a rush, trying to change out of it quickly before you came, you assumed.

“ethan?” you choked out, your voice pathetically small.

he jumps at the sound of your voice, immediately turning to face you. his eyes are wide, brown curls messy and his plump lips parted in surprise. horror takes over his expression as he gawks at you, holding the mask silently for a moment before shoving it behind his mask.

“what are you doing here?” he coughs awkwardly.

you gaze at him, blinking dumbly.

“we.. had.. a study da— session.”

“..right.” he gulps hard. he didnt forget, of course he didn’t. he had been freaking out all week about having the perfect night with you. he was gonna play a movie and study with you and play some games— not whatever the hell this is.

“..you’re.. the ghostface.” you mumble and step forward, shutting the door behind you. he blinks in surprise at your easiness and how you weren’t on your knees crying. you were calm. collected. it freaked him out a little.

“you’re not screaming and crying.” he comments, dark eyes staring you down as you finally step face to face with him. a small smile tugs at your lips, hands going to gently pull the mask from his hands to look over the white plastic now stained red.

“i’m just glad you’re okay,” you mumble, rubbing the blood smudge, “i saw the blood trail and assumed the worst.” you smile up at him. he shudders.

this was weird. you weren’t scared at all. no, you were giving him bedroom eyes and showing your pretty little smile at him. he wants to scoop you up already.

“you do realize i’m the ghostface, right?” he scoffs, one hand going to gently take your chin. his robe and bloody appearance gives him more confidence, letting him take ahold of your face to pull him closer. “the same dude who’s been trying to kill all our friends.”

he doesn’t miss the way your cheeks burn up at his touch. a small grin appears on his face. he couldn’t of fallen in love with a more perfect woman.

“as long as you don’t hurt me.” you smile sheepishly and look him up and down, scanning his attire more clearly now that you’re up close. it’s slightly sparkly, the fabric glistening from his led lights.

“i would never hurt you.” he coo’s, gently rubbing his thumb against your porcelain skin. his gloves are thick but you can still feel his warmth against your skin, rubbing a small amount of blood onto your skin. he smiles at the contrast of your cute face with the blood stain.

your lips part by themselves as you look up at him, lashes batting. he takes one good look at your face and immediately knows what you want. one hand wraps around your small waist and the other tangles itself in your hair, pulling you against his lips with a small moan.

the kiss is gentle and slow, soft pants leaving the two of you between each kiss. your skin felt milky in his hands. you had imagined the two of you kissing many times— during your lunch break and when you had movie nights with the whole friend group, but you never imagined it like this.

with blood all over him, the ghostface mask in your hand and his rough hands gently scooping you up into his arms. his muscles have never been more prominent, making you cling tighter and let out a small moan into his lips. he groans at your soft little noise, pulling you closer and starting to walk you towards his bed.

with a soft thud your back hits the mattress, blinking up at him with a flushed expression and a smile creeping onto your lips. he begins to put his mask off to the side before you quickly catch his wrist, “wait, don’t.” you say. he frowns down at you in surprise, brow raising up.

“don’t what?” he hums in amusement.

“keep.. it.. on.” you mutter hesitantly.

oh, you were gonna be the death of him for sure. your cute little smile and big eyes blinking up at him innocently, as if you didn’t just ask him to fuck you in his mask. he can’t help but immediately smash his lips back onto yours, taking advantage of the last few seconds he’ll be able to kiss you.

his hands are gentle with you but in a hurry as he tugs down your clothes, pulling down your bottoms and yanking your top off you. he’s trying be careful— but he can’t wait any longer for your sweet taste.

“i’m gonna use my mouth on you and then i’ll put the mask on, okay?” he whispers, glancing at you with pleading brown eyes. you nod meekly and part your thighs, watching as he lowers his head between them and presses a soft kiss to your folds. you let out a soft exhale at that, your hands going to tangle themselves in his soft hair. you make sure you don’t accidentally pull his hair too hard.

his lips aren’t very experienced when it comes to pleasing women but he tries his best, sucking at your clit while his gloved fingers prod at your hole, gently sliding in a finger and curling it up into your g-spot. the noise you make motivates him further, his sucking increasing in its pressure as he wiggles his finger.

“please, just like that-“ you gasp, your legs finding their way over his shoulders. your feet kick lightly against his muscular back, eyes fluttered shut in bliss and mouth agape with noises falling out like a broken record.

he hums, muffled by your pussy. the vibration makes you shiver and clench down on his fingers. he notices and decides to add in his second finger, giving your clit a few little nibbles to distract you from the stretch. you whine lewdly and he chuckles lightly.

a few more minutes are spent of him slowly building you up until you fall over the edge, moaning happily as he drives his thick fingers deeper and deeper until you cum on his fingers, some of it getting on his chin. his lower face glows with your essence, parting after a moment with a slow breath.

“so perfect for me.” his lips perk up, hands going to tug at your waist, pulling you further down the bed until your right under him. he kneels over you, grabbing his mask and pulling it back on. your reaction is immediate, cheeks flushing at the sight of the tall masked man, bloody mask and robe looming over your naked form.

“never thought you’d be into this, doll.” he muses, feeling a switch in his personality with the confidence the mask gives him. his hands are quick to pull his robe aside, pulling his hard cock out from his sweatpants. it slaps against his abdomen with a soft squelch, the pre cum glistening with his tip throbbing red.

“gonna be a good girl and take this cock?” he asks gently, crawling over you.

“yes ghostface..” you giddily smile, grinning up at him as he presses your thighs to your chest and giving him access to your core. he smiles under his mask in approval, gently rubbing circles on your thighs, before pressing his head against your opening. he watches your face as he slowly inches it in, going deeper and deeper into your gummy walls, splitting you apart in his girth.

“fuck, feels s’good ethan.” you say in an almost whiny tone, gawking at the stretch and how good it feels to have your best friend finally dick you down the way you’ve been imagining for months. you’re rendered speechless as he impales you slowly and gently, relishing in how you moan so pretty.

“it’s ghostface to you, baby.” he corrected with a cocky tone. once the words leave his mouth, he delivers a harsh thrust into you, making you bite down and squeak. the stretch is barely there anymore— your wetness letting him easily make his home inside you.

“s-sorry, sorry, please ghostface—“ you quickly replied, chest heaving up and down as he starts a pace. your mouth falls open as his fat head slams against your cervix, hands holding your thighs tightly down with an almost bruising grip. when you imagined finally having sex with him, you pictured gentle and slow love making, not this.

his shrieking expression stared down at you emotionlessly, the blood reminding you he had just murdered someone before pushing his cock inside you. their blood was all over the room, staining the floor and now your porcelain skin. and for some odd reason, your pussy clamped down on him harder at that.

“you’re— so— so damn, tight—“ he hisses lowly, a guttural groan coming from him. he harshly slams inside you, one of his hands going to wrap around your throat and squeeze. the choking catches you off guard, blinking up at him in distraught before whimpering pathetically.

he snickers at that. “such a god damn whore,” he laughs, squeezing your airway gently while thrusting harder and harder into your pussy. “moaning like a slut while the blood of an innocent person gets all over them.” he huffs.

he pulls himself down, pressing his chest against your thighs. “my slut, right?” he coos in an almost sweet tone, mocking you no doubt. you nod with a muffled cry, feeling your orgasm near once again. he could feel himself growing close to his climax as well, his cock throbbing intensely inside you.

“fuck— fuck, gonna cum? gonna cum for me?” he gives your thigh a little swat before pressing his rough fingers against your clit, pinching and rubbing it harshly as you squeal. he doesn’t let up on his pace at all, rather taking your choked up noises as more reason to go harder.

your nod is eager and messy, big watery eyes gazing up at his mask. your pussy was too tight and he could feel himself cumming already, his thrusts slowing down until he gives you one last little jerk of his hips. a soft sigh leaves him as your walls spasm around him tightly. his eyes widen in shock as you squirt all over his cock and robe, a gasp leaving the two of you.

it’s silence for a moment before he starts snickering, staring down at the mess you made of his robe. your cheeks turn red and you weakly sit up, blinking at him with dazed eyes and swollen lips. he could see the light mark his hand made around your neck, making him almost harden again.

“s-shut up, i didn’t know i could do that!” you hiss defensively, blushing and squeezing your thighs shut. he laughs and shakes his head, pulling his mask off and shaking his curls free.

“dont worry about it baby, just lay back. lemme clean you up and then maybe we can do that studying.” he snorts. you roll your eyes and reluctantly lay back down, staring at him.

“are you, uh, actually ghostface?” your small question breaks the silence as he fixes you up. he scowls down at you.

“yeah, dumbass.”

[sapphicmsmarvel]

acotar: feeding my complex

If you know me irl 🎶no the fuck you dont 🎶

This is azriel x reader x feyre x rhys smut. Everything is under the cut. (i'm so nervous posting this omg) 

(3.7K YALL WTF POSSESSED ME)

title is from complex by xana pls listen xana is one of the best artists ive ever heard!

‼️Minors Do Not Interact‼️

(i already know minors are gonna ignore that bc i have common sense)

notes: probably ooc rhys and az. i do not see them as the type to share mates but like, it’s hot. you could see this as wlw fetishization but as a pan/bi/queer woman this is a goddamn wet dream so i approve it. (duh i wrote it) 

This is mainly porn with no plot, but i snuck some in. 

kinks: ass play, tongue sucking, female worship, voyeurism, switching from top to bottom real quick, dirty talk (i tried), praise, oral (fem receiving), mating press, pussy slapping, edging, mentioned past knife play. I think i got it all folks. 

It all started from a dinner with Feyre and Rhysand. Aka your childhood best friend and her husband. You and Feyre dreamed of double dates with your spouses as children and now you finally have it. 

You four occasionally had these dinners, typically once a month. 

After the meal, you four were in the living room area, Azriel was on his second glass of wine, Rhysand and you weren’t drinking. Feyre was on her first glass. The fire was crackling with life, causing the room to warm. 

Then you four began sharing silly secrets. It started with Feyre and Rhysand fucking in paint, which gave your husband ideas. Then you and Azriel admonishing them for fucking in the literal sky. But then they scolded you two for knife play. Especially when they found out Truthteller’s handle was used to fuck you. 

“How did you even grip that?” Feyre asked. 

Azriel smirked, “who said I was the one holding it?”

“Who the hell did you invite to your bed and why wasn’t it us?” Rhysand asked, jokingly but you warmed at the idea. 

“The shadows you fool.” You laughed, sipping your water. “Az pinned me down and sucked my tits while the shadows pinned my legs down and used Truthtellers handle to fuck me. 

They were silent and then, “I love how you have no filter, baby.” Az coughed. 

“So do I. Damn.” Feyre said. “That’s spank bank material.”

You snorted and Rhysand just tipped his glass to you. 

Which then the conversation turned into friends having sex, and then: 

“You mean to tell me, you and my High Lady would have sex?” Azriel asked, surprised clearly. He knew you were into women but it was different knowing the object of your past affections was his close friend and High Lady. 

“I mean, yeah.” You shrugged at your mate. “Two girls that the village wanted nothing to do with. Might as well do each other.”

“And by the way, it was a loving and very respectful relationship. Platonic sex!” Feyre declared from her spot on the couch. 

“Huh.” Rhysand said. “You know, I expected not to like that but…” he trailed off. “The thoughts are nice.”

You snorted and looked at Azriel, who was looking at you with an expression that could only be described as eye-fucking. 

“Are you serious?” You asked him grinning. He had the decency to blush. 

“What?” Feyre asked, looking towards you. 

“He’s into it too!” You laughed. 

Feyre laughed as well, “I mean I don’t blame them. We are quite hot together.” She scooted closer to you on the couch. 

“That we are.” You grinned and clinked your glasses together. 

You all quickly went onto other topics, but you both could tell that the boys just could not stop imagining you two together. 

“Okay, how do we bring you two back to the present?” Feyre asked. 

“What do you mean?” Azriel asked. 

“You two have been acting so weird since we said we used to hook up. So how do we stop that weirdness?” Feyre asked. 

“We just never imagined our wives with equally attractive women.” Rhysand shrugged. 

You gasped, “are you saying I’m as hot as Feyre? That's the best compliment.” 

He was silent. He actually looked sheepish, he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck and everything. 

“What?” You asked. 

“He’s saying you’re as hot as him.” Azriel said. 

You gasped even louder. “Seriously?!” 

“I mean, you are,” Feyre shrugged. 

“And Feyre is….as attractive as you are, love.” Azriel said. 

“Awww Azzie..” Feyre cooed teasingly. “That's so cute.”

The tips of his ears became bright red. 

Rhysand stuttered out, “it’s just, hard to imagine so…” He trailed off 

You turned and looked at Feyre. “They wanna see us smooch.” You giggled. 

Feyre rolled her eyes. “Come here.” She grabbed your face and pecked you on the lips. 

When you turned towards the boys, they were wide eyed but not satisfied. “You’re blue-balling us.” Rhysand huffed. 

“Oh? You wanna see us do what?”

Rhysand was silent and looked at Azriel then you two. Feyre coaxed, “words baby.” 

“We want to see you two make out.” Azriel ended their misery. “And maybe…” He shrugged. 

“Maybe?” You prodded. You knew exactly what that voyeur wanted to see. But gods, this was fun enough for you. And it was turning you the fuck on. 

“Maybe if it’s hot, then we fuck you both together.” Azriel snapped, but it wasn’t malicious. Your mate snapped when he was flustered, which was rare. So you were eating this shit up. 

“If?” You chuckled. “Baby, it’s gonna be.” 

“Yeah yeah you know you two are hot.” Rhysand muttered. 

You giggled, “then we have to go to bed, don’t we?” You asked Feyre. 

“Duh.” She laughed, downed her drink then grabbed your hand. You both took off down the hallway, the men nearly tripping over themselves to follow you two. 

You two beat them to the bed. You both fell into a heap of giggles as they ran up the stairs. 

“Is it weird if I’ve missed kissing you?” Feyre asked. She threw off her baggy shirt, so her bra was on display. But left her shorts on. “As much as I love Rhys, kissing girls is just.” She kissed the air. 

“I feel the same.” You giggled into your shared air. You shucked your shorts off, revealing the granny panties you were wearing. If you knew this was coming, you would’ve worn a hot set. You left the big tee shirt on. 

“I’m not wearing panties, I wanna leave some mystery.” Feyre said. 

“I would’ve worn a hot set if i knew this was happening.” You laughed, you could hear the boys were close to the bedroom. 

“It’s not fair you look hot in granny panties.” Feyre groaned. 

You laughed as the boys arrived, now the fun could begin. 

“C’mere.” You grinned and Feyre did as well. 

The two of you sat on the bed, facing each other. Your knees touching. Very much aware of your husbands at the end of the bed waiting for you two to kiss. Their heated gazes stroked the inferno that was in your cunt. Throbbing. 

When you and Feyre’s lips met, the world went silent. Kissing Feyre was always like falling into a comfy bed. Soft, plush and safe. As much as you loved Azriel as he was your mate, and you obviously were sexually attracted to men. You also were sexually attracted to women. There was never a worry with Az. He never wanted to invite anyone to the bedroom because he didn’t trust anyone. 

But these, these were two of the people he trusted most. 

Nothing beats kissing a girl.

Your mouths opened for each other, your tongues caressing each other. Lewd sounds were the only sound in the bedroom aside from Azriel and Rhysands heavy breathing. Feyre pulled you against her, your tits rubbing against each other, you wore no bra underneath so the contact caused your nipples to pebble. She ran her hands underneath your shirt, scraping her nails against your back. Your hands wove into her hair and pulled her even closer. Her nails dug into your plush hips. 

She pulled away, “Gods, I missed these hips. Fucking perfection. So soft.” Between each sentence she pressed a kiss to your swollen lips. “Felt even better sitting on my face. Remember that?” 

“Gods how could I forget?” You whispered. You smelled the musky, manly scent of Azriel and Rhysands arousal, you felt your pussy throb at the aroma of them and the sweet smell of Feyre’s mixing.  

You captured Feyres lips between your own. Better than a drug. More addictive and exhilarating. 

You heard rustling and then the sound of clothes hitting the floor. 

You felt warm heat radiate at your back as large thighs cradled your butt and hips. Azriel’s warm hands went around your waist to hold you. He kissed your neck. You felt his cock in bump into your plush thighs. Rock hard. 

How far are we going with this? Rhysand created a link to all of your minds.

As far as you boys would like. This isn’t new for Y/N and I. Feyres throaty laugh echoed in your minds. Safe word? 

Peach. Like Y/N’s ass. Azriel said as he spanked you. 

No ones gonna get possessive and rip out someone’s throat? You asked as your tongue licked down the side of Feyres throat, your teeth scraped her skin. She let out a breathy moan. 

Nobody else I trust to fuck my wife than these two. Azriel responded 

Glad you have so much faith. Rhysand said. Can’t wait to make your wife see the galaxy. 

yeah watch me make your wife come. Was all you said before your fingers dipped into Feyre’s shorts. 

Azriel chose that moment to slip his hand into the back of your panties and spread your ass cheeks with his long thick fingers. Just rubbing outside the tight ring made you quiver. You weren’t a fan of penetration there, but a little bit of ass play never hurt. 

You snuck your hand into her shorts, her smooth, wet pussy was warm and inviting. You wanted to sink into it with your tongue and fuck her so hard she didn’t know her name. But, you’d do that another time, either with Rhys coming down her throat or just watching while Azriel pounded into you from behind, you weren't picky. 

You gathered her slick and brought it up to her clit and continuously rubbed circles on the bundle of nerves. 

Based on the way her thighs clenched around your hand, you knew something was going on in the back. Then you saw the lube in Rhysands hand get thrown onto the bed and knew that she was also getting some ass action.  

“Is he fucking your ass?” You asked her. She groaned. “You got my fingers on your clit, your husbands in your asshole and you’re giving my husband a filthy fucking show? You grabbed her face with your free hand, “open.” You ordered. 

She did so without complaint, her tongue sticking out as you took her tongue between your lips and sucked on it like it was your favorite candy. 

You pulled away long enough to say, “dirty fucking girl.” You saw her eyes roll back into her head as you took her tongue in your mouth again and sucked it. 

You moaned around her tongue as Azriel began pressing harder against your tight asshole. He began rubbing faster. You whimpered. You weren’t afraid to admit that it doesn’t take much to make you finish. But you also have a faster turnaround time than most. It helps that this sight, this situation was the hottest thing you’ve ever experienced. 

You let go of Feyre’s tongue. “Wanna sit on my face baby?” You asked Feyre as she pitched forward into your shoulder. “Huh? You can sit on my face while Az fucks me and you can suck Rhys’ cock. How does that sound?” You rubbed her even faster. 

She let out a louder moan as you felt her thighs quiver around your hand. 

“Or maybe you wanna see what the biggest wingspan feels like.” You grinned, you saw Rhys’ eyes flash a stormy violet. “His cock is so thick, baby.” You panted against Feyre’s temple. “You can feel every vein as you bounce. I bet it’d stretch you out so ni-“ 

You were cut off when someone threw you down on the bed. You looked up to see Rhys’ eyes pinning you down. One of his hands pinning both your wrists down. “Azriel.” Was all he said. 

“Yeah?” He asked, still discombobulated from the shift in position. 

“Pleasure my wife out while I eat yours out.” 

Your husband, your mate, let out a dark chuckle. “As you wish, My Lord.” Your mate sent a gentle caress down the bond. It was almost mocking. 

It was fucking hot. 

Rhys let out his beast form enough that his wings spread even wider, his right hand that wasn’t holding your wrist turned into his beast claws. And his cock was a hard rod against your inner thigh. 

“You know, it’s because of you my wife didn’t get to cum.” He said, one single talon cutting your shirt open. The cool air brushed against the swells of your tits. “If you just kept your fucking mouth shut, she would’ve finished.” He scolded as his wife's moans were in the background, you quickly glanced over Rhysand’s shoulder to see Azriel fingering his High Lady. 

“Am I supposed to be sorry?” You cocked an eyebrow. 

You had no idea what possessed you to say that to him. You’re only mouthy with Azriel, but not all the time. 

You were in a brat mood because the next thing you said was, “you mad that out of all of us I got to fuck her first?”

“Are you always this mouthy?” He asked. 

“You have no idea.” Azriel said, taking a break from sucking on Feyre’s tits and fingering her cunt. You were jealous of your husband. Feyre’s tits were spectacular. 

Rhysand pinned your waist down and began mouthing at one of your tits. His tongue circled a nipple and he grazed his canine against it which caused your back to shoot up off the bed. 

You felt Rhysands claws tap your mental shield, you let him in. 

“Praise or degradation?” He switched to the other breast. 

“Both. But, don’t overdo it with the name calling please.” You requested. You were bullied as a kid so name calling is a toughie to navigate. 

“What words are you against?” He then tore the rest of your shirt off completely. The cool air causing goosebumps on your exposed skin. 

“I don’t like being told I'm ‘just a cunt’. Degrade me by roughing me up. Praise my looks while you do it.”

His chuckle echoed in your mind, “oh I can certainly work with that.” 

“These beautiful thighs are meant to be parted.” He said as he trailed down your curvy body. “Curves of a goddess too.” He pulled your granny panties off and threw them somewhere. 

Azriel always told you how beautiful you were, but you weren’t gonna lie, hearing it from a guy like Rhysand was pretty nice too. 

“The prettiest woman I've seen.” Feyre said off in the distance. She was moaning as well. You didn’t know what your mate was doing. But you knew it was good. 

You hummed as he spread your legs, he blew on your clit and the air made your thighs twitch. 

“Your stretch marks are so beautiful.” He said into your mind. 

He licked a stripe between your folds and moaned. He started sloppily eating like a man starved. Your toes were curling, your heels pushing into his shoulder blades and pushing him further into you. Your hands curl into his hair. 

“You taste like fucking heaven. Our perfect, beautiful, otherworldly little slut.” 

“How does it feel knowing everyone in this room has tasted this perfect cunt?” The breath from him speaking felt like ecstasy as it went over your puffy red cunt.  

“Fuck.” Your eyes rolled back. 

He pulls away and you whine, then squeak when he slaps your pussy. “I asked a question.” He was just adding fuel to the flame. 

“It feels so fucking good. Like I'm a God.” You couldn’t help the truth bubbling out. Anything to get his tongue back inside you. Your pussy was throbbing so hard you were sure they could all hear it. You were a greedy little thing. 

“You are a God, you are our God that tastes so fucking good it’s addictive.” He whispered as if the sentence was a prayer. 

He then put his mouth to use. He rolled your bud around with his tongue. Having the raw, targeted motions made you more sensitive. Causing pleasurable shocks to go through your body. 

“Only we get to make you feel like this, only us. You are ours.” 

“Your curves, your plushness, Gods. Perfection.” 

Right as your thighs began to shake, right as your stomach began to clench and twist, he stopped. 

You could not help the whine. Feyre whined too. It seems the boys had planned something. 

The little bitches had edged you both. “She’s ready for you.” Rhysand smirked at your husband, his lips coated in your slick. 

Azriel grabbed your legs and pulled them onto his shoulders so quickly it caused you to yelp. The head of his cock slapping your pussy lips. 

Feyre was then laid right next to you, both men were now on the bed on their knees. 

Realization set in, these bastards were putting you two in mating presses. 

Rhysand bent down to kiss his mate, when he pulled away, she smirked. “You taste so good with Y/N’s pussy smeared all over your lips. My new favorite dessert.” 

Before you could see Rhysands reaction, Azriel pulled your attention towards him. “Look at you being the favorite slut of the group.” 

Your pussy clenched around nothing which caused you to pitifully whine. “You want me to fill that pussy, baby?” Azriel asked. “Show who has the biggest wingspan?” 

“Mhm.” You whined again. 

“Your wish is my command, baby.” 

And together, both him and Rhys, pushed into their wives pussies. 

You let out a guttural moan as the delicious stretch came. Then the feeling of being pleasantly full. Almost to the point of too much. You couldn’t help the tears that came out of your eyes. Since the beginning of the night you’ve been pent up and to finally feel the release and that all the build up was coming to an amazing moment. 

Your cunt greedily sucked him in, as if welcoming him home. “You’ve always been made for me.” You whispered. You two together were truly like a puzzle, the way your bodies reacted to each other was proof of that. 

The fat head of his cock hit your g-spot and the world went white. Your gummy walls felt like heaven to him. And this felt like heaven to you. 

“Fuck.” You moaned as he began pounding into you. He curled in on you, his arms came around to your back and up to your shoulders, holding you in place as his harsh thrusts dove into you. Azriel’s balls were slapping against your ass, a feeling that will never get old. His head going to your neck. 

Sounds surrounded you, Azriels panting against your skin. Azriel and Rhysands grunts. The sounds of skin slapping, gasps and moans that fell from Feyres lips like a prayer. You could feel the sweat from your back clinging to the bedding on top. Azriels breath against your neck, adding to the pleasure. Your nails clawing at Azriels back. 

The bed was moving with all four of you on it. You heard something in the frame snap but you didn’t care. You didn’t care if the bed fell through the floor. 

You turned your head to the side to see Feyre getting pounded into so hard her eyes were rolling back. Rhysand had pinned her hands to the bed with his own and practically flattened her against the bedding. 

It was so fucking hot. 

She turned her head, her mascara smeared and her lips puffy and red. Skin so beautifully flushed. You knew you looked the same to her. Beautiful. You two held eye contact as you were pounded within an inch of your lives, the act alone felt more intimate than kissing. 

All of it together made the rope finally snap. 

You clenched around your husband's cock hard. Hard enough that it caused him to gasp. 

“Fuck, you always clench around me so good, baby. I’m almost there, yeah?” He murmured. Making sure it was okay to continue pounding into your g-spot. 

“Use me, Azriel.” The overstimulation didn’t scare you. It thrilled you. You loved squirting and you were ready to do it. “Use me like a fucking toy.” 

You didn’t know he could thrust harder in the moment, but he did. You held his sweaty head against your neck. It felt like he was going even deeper, which you didn’t know was possible. He bit into the area between your shoulder and neck, causing you to throw your head back in pleasure. 

You heard Feyre’s tell-tale noise and then both her and Rhysand finished. You could tell based on their sounds and the smells. 

Then you felt the tingly feeling of when you’re about to squirt. “Az.” You whined and clenched him hard. 

His lips grazed your neck as he spoke. “I know, I’m there.” You felt his cock release and then let yourself go. 

Your pussy clamped down on him so hard he groaned and collapsed on top of you. The release with Az always felt like you were reborn. Free. Cherished. You knew you had absolutely soaked Feyre and Rhysand’s bed, but you couldn’t be bothered to care. 

“Did so fucking good baby.” You said and kissed his temple. 

Rhysand rolled over onto the other side of Feyre, Azriel eventually pulled out of you and just flopped on the other side of you. Rhysand snapped his fingers and all of you were in clean sheets and were clean. Still felt grimy but you could live with it until you could bathe. He had the courtesy to magic a blanket over the four of you. 

The room was silent except for your panting. 

“So.” Rhys began. 

“We’re doing that again right?” Feyre finished. 

“Yeah.” Azriel panted. 

“Fuck yeah.” You agreed. “I already have ideas.” 

Feyre snorted, “of course you do. Can’t wait for you to experience the wonders of Y/N’s perverted mind, babe.” She said and you heard her punch her husband's shoulder. 

Azriel chuckled, “The shadows fucking her with Truthteller was her idea.” 

“Fuck.” 

[extinctlesspains]

heyy can you pls do a kwon x y/n story, that y/n and Kwon are already dating and their in the Sekai Taikai as captains, and y/n is kreeses granddaughter and she’s a literal SOCIOPATH and blud is insane 💀 and she saves him from his death by taking the knife before he grabs it and running with it with another guy (probably Diego from the spanish dojo) from a dojo chasing her upstairs and she casually just pushes him off the railing and he’s the one that dies and y/n gets away with it and she’s like ‘it’s not my fault, he shouldn’t of chased me and he knew about the knife) and Kwons kinda like ‘wtff’ but he’s so in love 💀💀

A/n: LMAOOO THIS IS GOOD😭 I worked really hard on this y'all... I hope u enjoy 😓💕

𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝐷𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔

𝐵𝑦 𝑒𝑥𝑡𝑖𝑛𝑐𝑡𝑙𝑒𝑠𝑠𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑛𝑠

»»——⍟——««

»»——⍟——««

𝑃𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: 𝐾𝑤𝑜𝑛 𝐽𝑎𝑒-𝑠𝑢𝑛𝑔 𝑥 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑑𝑒𝑟

𝐺𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: 𝑡𝑏ℎ 𝑖𝑑𝑘... 𝐻𝑂𝑅𝑅𝑂𝑅? 𝑇𝐻𝑅𝐼𝐿𝐿𝐸𝑅?

𝑆𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: 𝑆𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒 𝑐𝑎𝑛 𝑏𝑒 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑛 𝑖𝑛 𝑚𝑎𝑛𝑦 𝑓𝑜𝑟𝑚𝑠, 𝑎𝑡 𝑙𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡𝑠 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑔𝑟𝑎𝑛𝑑𝑓𝑎𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟 𝑡𝑎𝑢𝑔ℎ𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢. 𝐼𝑓 𝐷𝑖𝑒𝑔𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑛𝑡 𝑡𝑜 𝑑𝑖𝑒, 𝑤ℎ𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑 ℎ𝑒 𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑠𝑒 𝑦𝑜𝑢? 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠𝑛'𝑡 𝑦𝑜𝑢𝑟 𝑓𝑎𝑢𝑙𝑡 𝑒𝑖𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑟... 𝐼𝑡 𝑤𝑎𝑠 𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝑑𝑒𝑓𝑒𝑛𝑠𝑒.

𝑊𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 𝑠𝑡𝑎𝑏𝑏𝑖𝑛𝑔, 𝑐𝑟𝑎𝑧𝑦 𝑏𝑒ℎ𝑎𝑣𝑖𝑜𝑟, 𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑜𝑓 ��/𝑛.

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

Kwon loved you. You were his partner, his love, his everything. Being the granddaughter of Kreese meant you were amazing at manipulation, combat, and you had ruthless intelligence. Enough to break a man in both body and man.

The way you carried yourself—poised, dangerous, and utterly indifferent to the weight of lives—was something that both terrified and fascinated him.

Today was no different. You stood tall at the forefront of the Cobra Kai team, your eyes scanning the other teams. Your expression was unreadable, but Kwon had learned to understand the little things—the subtle flickers of excitement behind those cold eyes, the way you moved ever so slightly when she was truly intrigued. He couldn’t help but admire you.

He thought today was no different yet it had become different.

It happened in the blink of an eye. As the match ended, a sudden commotion erupted behind you. A figure lunged at you from the shadows—Diego, the most dangerous fighter from the Spanish dojo, a man who’d been gunning you since their last encounter. He’d seen the way you moved, the way you fought, and he didn’t like it.

Kwon saw it all happening too fast and wanted to reach out and help you, but he already his hands full.

Diego was coming for you.

You didn't flinch, making your movements fluid, almost graceful, as you swiftly disarmed Kwon, who was holding a knife, when running past him. Your hand snatching the blade from his grasp before he could even comprehend what was happening.

In one smooth motion, you were on the move again, darting down the hallway with Diego hot on your heels.

Kwon’s heart raced as he began to follow, completely ignoring hi fight with Axel and leaving him baffled. There was something in the way you were moving now that made him hesitate. You weren't panicking. In fact, you were calm, almost too calm.

"Y/N!" Kwon shouted, running after you, his feet pounding on the stairs behind you. He saw Diego just behind you, the knife in his hand now, desperate to finish what he started.

You reached the staircase that overlooked the main arena, a steep drop to the lower level. You were running with fluid speed, effortlessly leading Diego up the stairs. But then, in an unexpected flash, you turned.

Kwon barely had time to process the movement before your hand shot out, shoving Diego in the chest. He didn’t even have a chance to scream before his body was sent careening over the railing, falling to the floor below with a sickening thud.

You casually brushed your hands together, as if nothing had happened.

You didn’t even look back.

Kwon stood at the top of the stairs, frozen in disbelief. His eyes locked on the twisted body of Diego sprawled at the bottom, blood slowly pooling beneath him. His thoughts were racing. What the hell just happened?

It was then that you turned to face him, your face eerily calm as you strolled back toward him, the knife still in hand. Your smile was so unsettling that it made his blood run cold.

"It’s not my fault," you said, tone utterly matter-of-fact. "He shouldn’t have chased me. He knew about the knife. He made his choice."

Kwon blinked, still processing your words. His heart was thudding in his chest. He knew exactly what you were saying, and part of him understood it, but the other part—the one that had been so in love with her—was beginning to unravel.

"You… you pushed him," he said, almost in disbelief.

You raised an eyebrow, expression never faltering. "Yes, I did," you replied simply. "But don’t worry. It’s not my fault. He was going to die anyway. If I hadn’t done it, someone else would’ve. It’s survival."

Your gaze softened for a moment, and Kwon swore he saw a flicker of something—regret, maybe? But it was gone just as quickly as it appeared.

You stepped closer, and for a moment, Kwon didn’t know what to do. Part of him wanted to shout, to be furious, but the other part—the part that had fallen for you, that couldn’t resist you—just melted under your gaze.

You were a monster, but you were his monster.

"I had to," she added with a shrug. "You understand, right?"

Kwon blinked, his mind a whirlwind of conflicting thoughts. He had always known you were dangerous—hell, he'd seen you kill before. But seeing you do it so... casually, as if it were nothing, unsettled him. And yet, he couldn't bring himself to be angry.

He reached out to you, pulling you close. His voice was soft, but there was a hint of something dangerous in it as he spoke. "You’re insane," he muttered, his forehead resting against yours.

You smirked, your hand trailing up his chest. "I know," you whispered. "But I’m your insane."

Kwon sighed, his heart still racing, but he couldn't deny the pull between you guys. You were a sociopath. You were ,terrifying. But you were his—and no one else would ever be able to tame you.

"Let’s go," You said, your voice light. "I’m bored of this place."

Kwon didn’t know whether he was going to survive this relationship. But he knew one thing for sure: He would follow you anywhere.

As you two walked off into the chaos of the Sekai Taikai, the crowd oblivious to the brutal death that had just taken place, Kwon couldn’t help but wonder what his life had become. But as long as he had you by his side, the world could burn, and he would still choose you.

After all, it was just self defense.

[leahrintarou]

Suna with an s/o who's really scared of thunderstorms pls?? Your work is always so awesome btw-

✩₊˚.⋆ SAFE & SOUND - suna rintarou

CW: y/n is scared of thunderstorms ofc, suna being a sweetheart, fluff, she cries just a teeny bit, reader with she/her pronouns.

Word Count: 1k

Author's Note: hi guysss, i hope that you enjoy reading this! i found it sweet and cute to write so i hope you enjoy it anon. (i'm so happy that you like my works btw!) ty for reading ;D show your support by leaving a like or reblogging :P

ever since she was a child, a mere girl in grade school, the reverberations of thunder and the harsh flashes of lightning that bled through her window panes had filled her with dread, a fear that dug deep into her very being. the tremors of anticipation, the oppressive silence before the crackling sky split open, and the way the air itself seemed to hold its breath—all conspired against her peace, robbing her of sleep. those sleepless nights became a constant companion, gnawing at her young mind with a persistent unease that lingered long after the storm clouds had passed. tonight was no different.

y/n lay beside suna, her eyes wide open, pupils dilated against the darkness. exhaustion weighed heavy on her bones, yet her mind refused to surrender. though her body ached for rest, her thoughts churned restlessly, denying her the release of slumber. beside her, suna embodied tranquility, his form rising and falling with each untroubled breath. he was a man who could sleep through any chaos—be it the squabble of the twins or even the catastrophic shockwave of a sonic boom. he seemed impervious, shielded from the disquiet of the world by some blessed indifference.

his arms were folded beneath his pillow, his broad back exposed and facing her, a silent wall between his peaceful dreams and her waking nightmare. his head, cushioned against the soft fabric, was turned away, as if even in sleep, he sought to shield her from his contentment. the room lit up briefly as lightning cast spectral shadows against the walls, and y/n stiffened, every muscle bracing for the inevitable roar that would follow. the thunder did not disappoint, crashing through the silence like a judge’s gavel, making the house shudder beneath the sound. her hands trembled as she curled into herself, seeking comfort where there was none.

she stole a glance at suna, his features serene and undisturbed, and guilt twisted in her gut. he had been through so much this week—long hours, relentless days—and waking him for something as trivial as this felt selfish. she should have outgrown this irrational terror; it was a childish fear, something to be dismissed like nightmares in the light of day. yet, here she was, her heart racing with each peal of thunder as if it were some primordial beast come to claim her. each fresh rumble tore another sob from her throat, her arms tightening around herself in a futile attempt to hold it together. her breathing was ragged, panic prickling at her lungs, and tears gathered at the corners of her eyes, spilling over to stain the sheets below.

a sob broke free, soft but sharp, piercing the quiet. though suna was impervious to the clamor of the world, there was one sound he could never ignore. his eyelids fluttered open, his gaze bleary and unfocused, drawn to her shape beside him. “sweetheart?” his voice was thick with sleep, rough around the edges, like sandpaper against silk.

for a moment, confusion clouded his eyes, but comprehension dawned swiftly as the storm outside roared its fury, shadows of the tempest dancing across their room. “shhh, it’s alright. you’re safe, y/n,” he murmured, the haze of sleep dissipating as he reached for her, drawing her trembling form close. his voice, though still laced with fatigue, was warm and reassuring, an anchor in the midst of the storm.

“it’s so loud,” she whispered, her tears falling freely now, soaking into the pillow they shared. he felt a pang of guilt, a knife twisting in his chest, for her suffering. “why didn’t you wake me, sweetheart?” he asked gently, his thumb brushing away the wetness on her cheeks.

“you’re tired,” she mumbled, shaking her head, her voice laced with resignation.

he huffed, a sound that was half-amused, half-exasperated, and he found her chin, tilting her face up towards his. “and so are you. how long have you been up?” she shrugged, the movement small and helpless, and his hand slipped beneath her shirt, tracing soothing patterns along her lower back.

“a few hours,” she admitted, her voice barely more than a breath.

suna cursed himself silently, frustration simmering beneath his calm exterior. he should have known. he had been aware of the storm’s approach, but the knowledge had slipped away, lost in the depths of his exhaustion. another roll of thunder reverberated through the house, and y/n flinched, pressing closer to him as if seeking refuge. he pulled her nearer, her head resting against his bare chest, his heart beating steadily beneath her ear. “it’ll pass soon, okay?” he promised, his voice a low murmur against the crown of her head.

she wanted to believe him, to let his words soothe her frayed nerves, but it wasn’t about how long the storm would last. it was about the fact that it was happening at all, that the fear was still there, alive and pulsing, even after all these years. suna’s hand left the warmth of her skin, and she looked up, startled, as he placed both palms gently over her ears.

her world muffled, the roaring tempest outside reduced to a distant murmur, and she blinked up at him, eyes wide with surprise. the thunder rolled again, a muted tremor through the house, but the sound did not reach her. only the soft vibration of the walls registered, the storm’s voice silenced by his touch. “better?” he asked, his lips brushing against her temple.

she nodded, a sigh of relief escaping her lips. suna leaned down, his breath warm against her skin, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead and then to her lips, the gesture gentle and comforting. he guided her back down, her head resting once more against his chest, his hands still shielding her from the storm’s wrath.

she could hear his heartbeat, a steady, soothing rhythm beneath her ear, even as his hands softened the world around them. “thank you, rin,” she whispered, her voice heavy with fatigue.

he hummed, a deep, resonant sound that she felt more than heard, the vibration echoing through his chest and through her, anchoring her in the present moment, safe in the circle of his arms. for the first time that night, the fear began to ebb, her eyes growing heavy as the storm raged on outside, distant and far away, a mere echo of the terror it once was.

“get some sleep now, sweetheart. I’ve got you."

got a request? send it in and i'll write it :D

Taglist: @nemoo888 @delicatexmoonchild @flowerpjimin @tedcruzumakii @sugacor3 @selysixn @mitsuyas-version @matchaismylove @cyberrthegreat @ivydoesit23 @riririntaro @ilovechickfilasauce @sincerelyzee @daydreamteardrop @satorusluvrgirl @tired-jaz

[luv-unknwn]

Serene

daryl dixon x fem!reader

summary - ♡ you and daryl go on a run and things dont go entirely as planned....but in a good way

SMUT SMUT SMUT

a/n - ♡ ik this isnt that good i haven't slept and its almost 6 am so i aint editing it anywaysss, im watching the show for the first time rn and i just could NOT resist writing smth for daryl so enjoy!! 🤭

(changed the name cause i realized i forgot to change it so it didn't make sense pls)

"no- god damn it girl gon get us killed out here if you keep lookin round so much" daryl grabbed your wrist to pull you along the muddy trail, nearly falling on your ass from his fast pace. "keep up, quit draggin your feet"

"fuck off man its nice to get out of that damn prison sometimes and see the world even if it is filled with walkers and assholes like you" you snort, pushing forward so you're walking ahead of him. "besides, the slower i walk, the more time we spend together, and i know that you love hanging out with me so much, dont you, D?”

going on runs had become a favorite activity of yours, somehow even with daryl being such a grumpy gus, it was serene. walking through completely empty towns; the opposite of the now packed prison you were living in.

“oh come on, don’t pretend you don't love me” you giggle at daryl's annoyed look. you'd grown somewhat of a crush for daryl in the last months, as much as you wish you hadn't, it's been nice having something to focus on rather than the overwhelmingly loud but silent nights in the prison.

it was the simple head nods as you pass each other, and him asking specifically to take you on runs, always staying in front of you when something goes wrong. those were the things that really fueled this crush, which carol had pointed out to you. you'd honestly always thought there was something going on with those two but when she asked you about how close you and daryl had gotten she assured you they were only best friends.

“ain't got time for your wanderin today girl, lets go-” a twig snaps to your left. “get behind me”

the walker stumbles out from the trees grunting, growling, and drooling toward daryl before he shoots an arrow right into his left eye. not so aware of your surroundings a walker comes out of the trees behind you grabbing onto you, you fight against its hold. just as you get a hand free to reach for your knife, daryl shoots the walker and it falls loudly to the ground.

“-shit” you gasp in big breaths of air. you reach for daryl's arm grabbing hold for stability, “thanks, D.”

“‘course, won't let nothin’ bad happen to you” you practically melt at his words and the vulnerable look in his eyes when he says it, like he's telling you an important secret he's never told anyone else.

you're so close you can feel the heat coming off his body as your eyes move from his to his mouth. never wanting something so bad in your entire life.

he's pulling away before you can even think to move toward him.

“best keep goin ‘fore it gets dark” his words are dismissive, completely ignoring the clear sparks flying between the two of you just seconds ago.

“right, you're right” clearing your throat a bit awkwardly, you speed up so you're walking ahead of him, trying to focus as hard as you can just on the task at hand.

the first few houses you search were pretty much empty save for a can of beans. the next one however had an entire cabinet filled with things you could take back to the prison, but not before you and daryl have a few snacks to refuel for the trip back.

“maybe we should stay the night here? we can hit a few houses on the way back in the morning, it's getting late and i dont wanna be walkin’ back in the dark” you suggest to daryl from the living room of the house.

“‘kay, lets find some blankets n stuff we'll camp out in here” daryl's voice is right behind you when he speaks, startling you from looking at broken picture frames of the family who used to be here.

you managed a makeshift bed on the floor with the few blankets and pillows you found in the bedrooms. you and daryl now laying there staring quietly up at the ceiling.

“were-” daryl starts to say something but stops before he can even get the first word out.

“what is it, D?” you whisper, turning your body so you're laying on your side facing him.

“were you gonna kiss me earlier?” daryl's uncharacteristically hesitant voice whispers into the quiet room.

the air in the room is suddenly thicker than before and the closeness of you and daryl seems almost too close.

“was i- was i gonna kiss you? i mean i don't know you were so close and just you know it's not like i meant t-” you're cut off by daryl suddenly pressing his lips against yours gently, staying unmoving for a few seconds until your brain catches up with you enough for you to kiss back.

the kiss deepens when you reach your hands around his neck to pull him impossibly closer to you, his own hands sliding down from your cheeks to your shoulders to your hips.

“daryl i- i need you,” you whisper against his lips when you pull away a bit for air.

he pulls back farther to look into your eyes.

“you sure ‘bout this?” his voice is genuine, even as his hands are already under your shirt going farther up until he reaches your bra, stilling there while he waits for your answer.

“yes, please daryl” you'd be lying if you said you hadn't thought about this many times. daryle above you while you're begging for him.

the moment the words left your mouth he was sitting you up to pull your shirt over your head, quickly reconnecting your lips with a moan so low it could have been a growl.

daryl pulled away to reach around you and unhook your bra, letting it fall between you.

“fuck,” he sighed, letting his head fall to your shoulder at the sight of how perfectly your boobs fell naturally.

seconds later you were pushing his vest off and pulling his shirt over his head, throwing it across the room and leaning down to kiss over his muscular shoulders. daryl's hands fell to your boobs while you left reddish-purple spots all over his throat and shoulders.

“lemme get these off baby” he was already unbuttoning your jeans when you rose to your knees to help him pull them down off your ass, sitting back on the floor so he could pull them and your shoes completely off. he was feeling up and down your soft legs, the way he was squeezing your thighs making your core tighten around nothing. “so pretty f'me.”

daryl's hands trailed up your legs to the soft cotton of your panties, he groaned when his rough fingertips grazed the wet spot leaking through them.

“lift ya pretty legs honey” he grunts out, when you listen he pulls your panties down your legs. the cool air of the room hitting your wetness makes you whimper quietly. “s'even prettier than i imagined,”

daryl pushes your knees farther apart to get a better look at you before he bring a finger up to graze your wet entrance, sliding it up to press gentle circles against your clit, making you gasp from the stimulation.

“god that feels good, please don't stop” you're whining when he finally pushes two fingers into you, starting a steady pace while keeping his thumb on your clit moving quicker each second. you're an absolute moaning mess below him, your back arching against him.

“y'like that sweetheart? like how m'fingers feel inside you, yea? y’gonna cum f’me baby?” his words are only pushing you closer and closer to the edge, your legs shaking around his hand.

“fuck- shit you're g-” you cut yourself off with a louder moan when he quickens the pace of his fingers, “s’good at this”

“c'mon baby, cum f'me, all over my fingers. thats right, good girl.” his words are what push you over the edge, the filthy words mixed in with his gentle praise has you shaking as you ride the intense waves of your orgasm. “such a good girl f'me”

when your breathing starts to slow back to a normal pace you feel daryl pull his fingers out of you and being them up to his lips, sucking your juices off his own fingers.

“that was- wow” you saw still trying to catch your breath, legs not fully stopped shaking either. before daryl can say anything else you're reaching for his belt to undo it.

“no, s'alright. wanted to make you feel good, go to sleep” he says grabbing your t-shirt and pulling it over your head.

“but-”

“nah if ya really feelin’ up for it, in the mornin’ you can, but we gotta get some sleep tonight” daryl leans over and kisses your forehead and pulls you down to lay on his chest.

and that's exactly how you woke up in the morning, cuddled up on the floor, clothes thrown around the room, hickies everywhere.

[lunabug2004]

Why the Troy and Angela Situations Should Not Be Compared (+ Why Mike's Reaction Is Valid)

One of the things that gets my blood boiling as a Mike defender is when people try to compare the bullying/El's reaction to said bullying between the Troy and Angela scenes. They are not the same thing, not even close! Yes, they're both cases of bullying, but two very different levels of extreme.

Yes, I understand that words can hurt just as much, if not more, than a physical weapon, and Mike understands this too, that's why he tries to connect with El the morning after. But in the real world, one without monsters or powers, the one they believe they're living in at the time, violence is almost never the answer, it only makes things worse, as it did. Mike also understand this. Now, yes, it took him a minute to figure out that El didn't quite understand this yet, but he works to fix his mistakes as soon as he does.

Now, let's look at season 1's incident. Troy is threatening to cut Dustin with a knife if Mike doesn't jump off the quarry cliff. Two lives are in immediate and direct danger in this situation. El, literally at the last second, saves Mike as he's falling, so that's one problem fixed and one less life at stake. By this time, yes, Troy has moved away from Dustin, but he is still holding the knife! And then he aggressively steps towards El, threatening her with it, so she snaps his arm and makes him drop it. This is self defense, as well as defending her friends from a dangerous situation.

In season 4, Angela publicly humiliates El. Yes, it's awful, and yes, she deserves the smack that she gets for it, but it's nowhere near as bad as what Troy was doing. Angela isn't putting any lives in immediate danger, she's not brandishing a weapon! Legally, El smacking Angela is assault, because at the point of the roller-scate-smack, the ordeal is done with, and there was no physical harm done. I'd like to add that I'm aware of El falling, and that she may have been hurt, but technically no one touched her, so it still isn't technically self-defense (I may be wrong here, pls correct me if so). This is a very unfortunate situation, and I feel terrible for El, as should everyone, but I'm a firm believer that when it comes to bullies, you shouldn't fight fire with fire, and Mike seems to carry this belief as well, as he repeatedly tells the boys to just ignore their bullies in s1. @foodiewithdahoodie has an old post (can't find it irl, but it's stuck in my brain) in which they say El treats Angela, a normal girl who is not a serious threat, with the same extreme hostility she shows the UD monsters, and I completely agree with this. El is flawed, and Mike's not a bad person for reacting to those flaws, that just happen to include unnecessary violence, the way a normal person would.

Anyways, what I'm getting at here is that these two situations are completely different (again, Troy has a literal weapon, two peoples' lives were being actively threatened!) and Mike's reaction in both circumstances were completely valid! In season one, he was seconds away from death, and so when El saved him and made the threat go away, he was eternally grateful for her defense. In season 4, he tries so hard to get to her when he realizes what's going on despite having just found out she'd been lying to him for months, and he was even completely on El's side, trying to find and comfort her, until she hit Angela, then he believed she went too far (she did), so he made that known. He's never been one to sugarcoat when he disagrees with certain behaviors, and he doesn't start here, he tells it like it is: Angela doesn't look fine. It also is just a lot to process, so it doesn't surprise me that it takes an overnight thought-session for him to figure out where he went wrong, and again, he tries to make it up to her! To connect with her, bringing down some of his walls in the process! She just disregards his experiences, then brings up him not saying ILY, so he gets defensive and puts back up his walls, and they never get to continue this conversation! (This is an analysis for another day in and of itself tbh)

To reiterate, it just irks me when people compare these scenes to try and make Mike out to be a bad person, when they are nowhere near the same situation! His reactions being different makes total sense, esp when adding the shock-factor of it all! I'll stop talking now cuz this could go on forever and I lowkey feel like I'm just repeating myself now.

Pls tell me your thoughts on this!

[in-my-feels-probably]

I can’t remember fr 😭 but here’s maybe another idea? Carmenxreader where the reader works as a chef at the restaurant as well and one day when they’re specially stressed out carmy blows up on her face (kinda like how he does to Sydney on ep 7) and she straight up walks out as well, the difference here is that they live together and obviously they can’t exactly ignore each other at home OR as an alternative, he blows up in her face and she has that kinda silent anger that’s even scarier than when someone has a screaming match with you, so when she simply turns around and goes back to work, Carmy is afraid for his life because he can practically see the anger radiating off of her, either one is fine! And ending is up to you! (But make is happy pls because I am a baby and will cry at too much angst :’)) thank you!!

Crash and Burn

Request: Carmenxreader where the reader works as a chef at the restaurant as well and one day when they’re specially stressed out carmy blows up on her face (kinda like how he does to Sydney on ep 7) and she straight up walks out as well, the difference here is that they live together and obviously they can’t exactly ignore each other at home OR as an alternative, he blows up in her face and she has that kinda silent anger that’s even scarier than when someone has a screaming match with you, so when she simply turns around and goes back to work, Carmy is afraid for his life because he can practically see the anger radiating off of her, either one is fine!

Hi! I’m so sorry for the long wait, I’ve been so busy but I’ve got some time now. I’m still getting the hang of writing for Carmy, so bear with me if it’s a little bit rusty. Anyways, I hope you enjoy it!

(Warnings: swearing, shouting, slight angst, let me know if i missed anything)

—

Today was not your day. It wasn’t anyone’s day at the Beef’s, to be more specific. 

And to make it worse, you were prepping for a catering event Carmy couldn’t say no to. You needed the cash, and so it had to be done. But—of course—everything had to go wrong, one shitty situation after the other. 

First, the meat delivery man dropped off fifty pounds of the wrong kind of meat, which immediately put Carmy in a bad mood. Then, he accidentally scorched the bottom of a pan after he forgot to check it while he was whisked away doing other things, and he had to start his stock sauce over completely. Unfortunately for you, it was a new recipe, and he was the only one who knew how to make it. It set him back at least an hour, and now you were rushing to pick up the slack of his duties on top of yours while he continued his.

It seemed as if everyone was having a bad day. Marcus couldn’t get the consistency of his cake batter right. Richie left his cigarettes at home and was forced to work through his smoke break, loudly griping about it to you while he chopped vegetables. Tina was late to work because of an appointment she had to take her son to, and she refused to cancel it and make another. Not that you blamed her.

You could overhear the phone call she had with Carmy letting him know she was stuck on the L train. When he asked why she couldn’t have just rescheduled, her scolding could be heard even from outside his office door. 

“It took me three fucking weeks just to even get the place to answer the phone without putting me on hold, I’m not about to wait another month!”

Carmy sighed, wiping a hand down his face. “We’re really busy today, Tina, if you could just please hurry—”

“Yeah, I’ll tell the conductor to step on it. Give me a minute, kid, I’ll be there soon.”

She arrived shortly after her phone call, making herself scarce when she saw Carmy hunched over a pot, muttering fragmented sentences to himself that would make a sailor blush. You quickly hurried her over, telling her to grab a knife and help you chop. 

The icing on the fucking cake—metaphorical of course, since Marcus had yet to actually bake any cake—was the client calling Carmy in the middle of the lunch rush and demanding the event’s catering be pushed up half a day, or else they would cancel entirely and expect a refund. A refund you didn’t have, as you had already spent the moneyt, so you had no choice but to oblige them. Meaning that instead of the extra time in the morning everyone had to prep, they’d instead have to finish that evening. And as if that couldn’t get any worse, Richie was going to have to leave halfway through the dinner shift to go pick up his daughter, which was unmissable. 

It would be you, Carmy, Tina, Marcus, and Sydney after the restaurant closed, working overtime and scrambling until you finished. 

Although, it was hard to ponder the next few hours when you were up to your neck in to-go orders, wrapping up sandwich after sandwich that Richie was making and sending your way in between taking orders at the counter. In fact, everyone was up to their necks in duties, frantically working and bustling around the kitchen. 

“Sydney, I’ll sign the lease to my apartment over to you and my savings account for rent if you take that meat cleaver and hit me over the head with it. If I don’t die, at least I’ll get sent to the hospital and be able to get the fuck out of here,” you groaned, wrapping yet another sandwich and sliding it back to Richie at the counter. 

Carmy tsked, not looking up from the now four separate pots on the stove he was managing. “Considering I live there, too, I think you’re gonna have to tough this one out for me.”

“For fucks sake,” you whined, heading into the front of house to grab more wrappers. 

Richie patted your shoulder on your way back into the kitchen, chuckling when you glared up at him. In a rare moment of peace when there was a gap in customers, he headed back into the kitchen to help you with the online orders. 

“Hang in there, kid,” he said, reaching into his back pocket before he groaned. “Shit, do you have any smokes?” 

“Nope,” you replied, immediately souring his relatively calm mood. 

“Fuck!”

He then took to angrily assembling and wrapping orders, shooing you away from the to-go station. Not that you were complaining, you could practically feel the anger radiating off him as he worked. 

You chose to help Carmy, who looked like he was about ten seconds from a mental breakdown. You rested a hand on his back as you approached him, gently rubbing up and down. 

“Where do you need me, love? Can I help?”

He sighed in frustration, shaking his head. “Nah, I’ve got this. Can you help Tina in the walk-in? She’s been in there a while.”

“Yup,” you smiled, hooking an arm around his middle giving him a quick hug, before heading into the back where the freezer was. 

When you opened the door, Tina was standing on her tippy toes, trying to put a big container of sauce on the top shelf. You furrowed your brows in confusion, wondering why she hadn’t asked someone a bit taller, like Marcus, to help her lift it up. She’d been gone from her station for what was probably twenty minutes now, and it was hard to imagine her standing like that instead of simply asking for help. 

You let the door close behind you, stepping in to help. “Tina, what are you doing?”

“I’ve got it, it’s fine. I’ll be right out,” she replied, taking a step up onto the bottom rank of the shelf. 

“Tina—” you gasped, eyes widening. 

She quickly turned towards you, one hand clinging to the shelf, the other supporting the container. “Y/N—”

Suddenly, her foot slipped down off the shelf, and she lost stability. The container came crashing down, splashing sauce all over the floor and across your shoes and the bottom of your pants. You quickly jumped over the puddle, offering your hands for Tina to take. 

“Come on, then. Get down, I’ll get us a few rags and we can clean this up,” you said, taking her hands in yours as you helped her step down. “We only lost the top bit, I think the rest of this is salvageable. I’ll ask Marcus to put this up on the shelf once we get it cleaned up in here.”

“Damn it,” she muttered, slipping her shoes off at the door so she didn’t track sauce all over the kitchen. 

You did the same, opening the door for her. “It’s alright, I’ve done this at least twice since I started working here. Sydney, too. It’s not our fault these shelves are so fucking high.”

Tina managed a chuckle, grabbing the mop bucket. “What a shitty day.”

“Agreed,” you replied, heading over to where you kept the clean towels and rags stocked.

You passed by Carmy on the way, who raised a brow at your disheveled appearance. “Drop something?”

“Not me, just in the splash zone. Don’t worry, I’ll get it cleaned up.” 

He was slicing meat now, and he frustratedly paused, setting his knife down. “Which sauce?”

“Uh, the garlic aioli, I think. I’m not sure, they’re all the same color, but it currently reeks of garlic in the walk-in, so I think my guess is pretty accurate.”

“Shit,” he sighed, picking the knife back up. “Could you be more careful, please?”

You raised a brow. “Well, I wasn’t the one who dropped it, but—”

“Yeah, yeah, just be fucking careful, alright? I don’t think we’ll survive any more shit today, we’re barely gonna make it as is.”

You flinched back at his sharp tone and raised volume, trying not to look too affected by his words. Suddenly, Richie called over his shoulder, scolding Carmy. 

“Cousin! Be fucking nice, leave her alone. Don’t be a dick, it was an accident.”

Carmy’s face fell as he watched your falter, and he cleared his throat, sniffing. “I’m sorry, I know it’s not your fault. There’s just too much shit to deal with today.”

You nodded and went to grab the towels, circling back by him as you walked past. You spoke carefully, not wanting to make him feel any worse than he already did. You knew he was under a lot of stress and didn’t mean to snap at you, but you’d much rather avoid any further potential snapping if you could, letting him be. 

“Take a breath, Carm. We’re gonna be fine, we still have all evening.” 

He nodded, mustering up a small smile. “I know. I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright, really,” you said, rubbing his shoulder as you walked back into the walk-in. 

Sighing, you got down on your hands and knees and started wiping up the mess. Tina stuck to the higher bits of the shelf that the sauce splashed onto. It took about ten minutes, but you finally managed to get everything up. You wiped the bottom of your shoes last, and then all the sauce was gone. Tina ran a mop through the freezer one last time, and you were finished after you got rid of the dirty rags. 

You joined Sydney at her station, tying a new apron around your waist. 

“Shitty day?” She asked, reaching for a sharper knife. “Twenty bucks on it getting even shittier.”

You huffed out a laugh. “I’d lose that bet. I guarantee we’re all gonna want to quit by tomorrow morning.”

“Fantastic,” she said, plastering a fake exaggerated smile on her face.

—

The rest of the dinner shift was—as predicted—miserable. Richie practically danced as he clocked out, saluting everyone before running out the back door to his car. Thankfully, he closed the front of the restaurant before leaving, which saved you all an extra half hour.

Everything settled down a bit once you all were steadily working in the back, but you were still rushing to make your new deadline. Everyone stuck to their own stations, in the zone as they worked. 

You finished your first round of work, deciding to see if anyone else needed help with getting theirs done. 

“Hey, Tina—”

She put a hand up, stopping you. “I’m good, mija. Talk to Jeff.”

“Heard,” you grinned, before walking over to Carmy. “Need me to do anything here?”

He took a breath, eyes scanning over his work before he nodded. “Yeah, uh…I braised the beef earlier. Could you slice it up thinly, and then pass it to Sydney? She needs it for prep.”

“Yup,” you nodded, grabbing a knife and the tray of meat. 

You began to make small talk as you worked, first with Carmy, then with everyone else. It was beginning to get late, and you all were a little delirious. Soon enough, the kitchen was full of laughter and scuffling feet as you moved around, telling joke after joke. It was a little loud, admittedly, but everyone seemed to be in high spirits. 

“Alright, alright, I’ve got one,” Marcus said, loading a tray into the oven. “When does a joke become a dad joke? When it’s apparent.”

You stifled a laugh as best you could, but you failed when Tina burst out laughing, crossing her legs. 

“Stop it, I'm gonna piss myself!”

That got Sydney, who’s laughter was practically echoing off the walls. “That’s some popsicle stick shit right there.”

You wiped your eyes with the back of your hand, tears falling as you chuckled. You could feel the heat in your cheeks as you laughed, your stomach beginning to ache. You looked over at Carmy, and realized that he had stopped laughing. He had smiled and chuckled at the first few jokes, but now he was quiet, working with tired eyes. 

“You got any jokes, Carm?” You asked, taking a step closer to him.

“What?” He asked, finally looking up at you. “Uh…no, no I don’t.”

“Oh, come on,” Marcus drawled over his shoulder, turning to look at Carmy. 

“No.”

You nodded, urging him along. “Yeah Carm, just give it a shot.” 

“No,” he said curtly, turning back to his work. 

You gave him a grin, trying to put him in a better mood. “Carm, just try—”

“Y/N! No!” He shouted, dropping his knife on the counter with a loud clang. “Could you just leave me alone for a minute, please? I mean, fuck! What’s with you today? We’ve got shit to get done. Just work! Without all the yammering, preferably.”

“Woah!” Tina shouted, immediately coming to your defense. “Take the stick out of your ass, leave her alone!”

Your jaw slacked at his words, but you quickly recovered, standing up straight. You could feel the ache in your heart at his scolding, and the tinge of embarrassment heating up your cheeks. But you steeled your emotions, setting your shoulders back as you picked up your knife, continuing to chop. You could hear arguing around you, but you ignored it, keeping your head down. 

Carmy immediately regretted his outburst, and he would have reached out to you if Sydney and Tina hadn’t immediately put themselves between you and him. 

“You alright?” Marcus said quietly, coming to stand by your side. 

You nodded, giving him a small smile. “I’m fine, I promise. Thanks.”

“Y/N,” Carmy started, and you could see the regret in his eyes. 

He dropped what he was doing, trying to come over to you. But you raised a hand, stopping him in his tracks. 

“I said I’m fine,” you replied curtly, turning to Sydney. “Syd, I’ll finish slicing the beef so I can give it to you, and I’ll finish up with anyone else who needs me for something. But I’m leaving the second I’m done.”

Sydney gave you a look of sympathy. “You don’t have to, I can finish this.”

“I’m not gonna throw a tantrum and make your job any harder just because I want to leave,” you sighed, throwing a sharp glare towards Carmy. 

You could see his jaw clench, and he cast his eyes to the floor. You scoffed, quickly going back to your work. Working as fast as you could, you finished within the next half hour. Walking over to Sydney, you placed the tray of sliced beef in front of her. 

“Here,” you groaned tiredly, pinching the bridge of your nose. 

She frowned, patting your arm. “Go home, babe. Get some rest.”

“I will, let me just ask Tina—”

“I’m fine,” Tina interrupted, holding her hand up when you tried to speak again. “Marcus, too. Seriously, mija. Go home.”

You finally relented, nodding. “Alright, fine. I’ll see you guys in the morning.”

“Love you,” they called out in sequence, watching you grab all of your things and head for the door.

You called back to them telling them you loved them, passing Carmy on your way out. He looked up at you as you walked past, his face full of regret, and a slight bit of fear. You smiled sweetly at him, making him shift back and forth uncomfortably. 

“See you at home.”

He visibly paled, and you choked down a sinister laugh as you walked out the door. 

—

Hours later, Carmy gently opened up the front door to your shared appointment. He was practically tiptoeing, trying not to wake you up. As he flicked on the lights, he took a startled step back when he saw you sitting on the couch, a book beside you that you had long since abandoned. The TV dimly lit the room, on a low volume.

“There’s leftovers in the fridge,” you said quietly, not taking your eyes off the TV. “Eat.”

You may have been pissed—beyond pissed—but you didn’t want him to starve. The whole day, and you couldn’t remember seeing him eat even once.

“Y/N—” He started gently, but you cut him off. 

“Eat…then we’ll talk.”

He sighed, nodding as he walked over to the fridge. After a few minutes of dawdling around the kitchen, he finally joined you, cautiously taking a seat next to you. 

You didn’t turn to him as you spoke. “Did you finish? Everyone get home okay?”

You could hear him fidgeting next to you, which led to you finally faltering and looking over at him. The look on his face almost made you take pity, but you waited for him to speak first. He finally did, breaking the silence. 

“I’m sorry,” he said, fiddling with his hands in his lap. 

You raised a brow, having to urge him to continue. “For?”

“For being an asshole,” he finished, his eyes softening on you. 

You nearly smiled, raising a brow. “You really mean that, don’t you?”

“You were trying to help, and I was being a dick about it. You were under just as much stress as I was, and it was out of line yelling at you in front of everyone like that. I shouldn’t blow up on anyone like that, but especially not you. I’m sorry.”

“You really embarrassed me, you know,” you said, your voice beginning to waver. 

Carmy winced as you spoke, nodding. “Yeah, I know. I’m sorry for that, too.”

Sighing, you gently took his hand. He immediately clung to yours, squeezing it as he turned to face you more. 

“You could just talk to me,” you whispered, rubbing your thumb along the back of his hand. “Tell me if I’m being too loud, or if you want me to do something else. I just want to help you. We all do. And we can’t do that if you don’t tell us what you need.”

“They all think I’m an asshole, don’t they? I would if I heard someone yelling at their girl like that.”

You shook your head, squeezing his hand again. “No, Carm. They don’t think you’re an asshole. They know you’re under a lot of pressure, and honestly, I think they’d say you’re handling the change of pace really well. Marcus and Sydney would, at least. Not sure about Tina. Definitely not Richie.”

Carmy let out a laugh at that, leaning back into the couch. “Yeah, well…he’s an asshole, too. Takes one to know one.”

You grinned, resting your head on his shoulder. “You’re not an asshole…at least, not all the time.”

“Fuck you,” he spat, although he was grinning, too. “And yes, by the way. We finished up, and everyone made it home safely. It’ll be a long day tomorrow, but we’ve done the hard part.”

You hooked your arm under his, leaning against his side. “I’m glad. It’s good money. We needed this job. Not sure it was worth all the rage, but I’m sure I’ll be saying differently tomorrow.”

“It’ll be worth it,” he said, leaning over to press a kiss to the top of your head. “Thank you.”

You smiled, grinning dramatically. “What would you ever do without me?”

He shrugged, leaning further into you as he let out a deep sigh. “Crash and burn, probably.”

“Well, we can’t have that, can we?”

—

A/N - Hi! So sorry again for the wait, I hope this is what you were looking for. Let me know what you think! Thank you again for requesting :)

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 10

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.6k

Warnings: ANGSTTT. Descriptions of blood and wounds. Brief (very brief) mentions of SA (not described).

Author’s Note: Another ✨Woops✨make sure you read PART 9 first!!

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Dagger

Her arrival on Senex was not one of celebration. 

Perhaps for her people it was; they were so excited for her to return to them. It seemed that her mother had put out word that she was taken by Din, and that she was saved by Silas and Calisto from an uncertain future. If only they knew the truth; if only they knew what Calisto had done to their Senator, to their princess.

No, her arrival on Senex was not one to celebrate. 

When the doors of her home slammed shut, Calisto pushed her towards her childhood bedroom. Two guards –storm troopers, dawned in their white suits and helmets, with blasters in hand –were posted outside her door. It was an easy thing to avoid; troopers were notoriously bad shots and she had snuck past them before. 

However, she wouldn’t be so lucky again.

“This time,” Calisto hissed, grabbing her daughter’s arm and yanking it forward. “You will not get nearly as far as you did.”

Her lady-in-waiting, Isowen, stepped forward with a tray. The young woman looked sick to her stomach, distraught as she removed the covering. A scalpel and bacta spray sat waiting, with a chip that flashed intermittently. Her eyes widened as she realized what her mother was about to do, and with everything in her, she tried to fight back and drag herself away.

“No, no, no,” she begged, but Calisto didn’t loosen her grip. “Mother, please. Don’t. I’m begging, please. Please, please!”

“You should have thought about the consequences of your actions,” Calisto snapped, calling the guards in. They pinned her down, holding her arm down as Calisto lifted the scalpel. “The less you fight, the less it will hurt. Hold still.”

She started crying, screaming out as the knife sliced into the skin of her forearm. The guards held her down harder, no doubt bruising her shoulders as they pressed their armor clad knees into her. The knife was not the worst part –the chip, which was then literally pushed into her wound, was jagged and sharp. Her body shook from sobs, begging her mother to release her, to stop, to let her go. But Calisto ignored her as she sprayed the open wound with the bacta. 

Isowen handed Calisto bandages, offering to finish the stitches with a soft, shaking voice. Calisto, with her daughter’s blood on her hands, stood and snatched the towel. There wasn’t a response; just a wave of her hand and a release of the guards. Calisto and the guards exited without a word, leaving her sobbing on her bed –blankets stained with blood, the wound on her arm slowly being stitched together by the Twi’lek beside her. 

“Milady,” Isowen whispered, trying to sooth the sobs coming from her mouth. “I am sorry, I did not want to. But your mother –Lord Credence –,”

She just shook her head, eyes screwed tight as tears fell. She didn’t want to talk, she didn’t want to hear excuses. She just wanted this to end. Nothing could fix what her mother had done, and now she was trapped in that Maker-forsaken house with guards at her doors. Even if Din managed to save her, there would be nothing that could stop her mother from finding her again. Not with a tracking device literally embedded in her arm.

“All will be well,” Isowen promised, finishing off the stitches with wrapping her arm in a bandage. She ran a soft, blue hand over her hair. “I know why you ran away, milady. I know you were not taken by the Mandalorian.”

“Pl-please leave,” she whispered, voice broken as she curled into herself on the bed. Her eyes were stuck on the blood that stained her sheets, heart threatening to burst from her chest. 

Isowen hesitated before standing, giving her one more pitying look before she slipped out of the bedroom. She thought of Din, and Grogu. Thought back to that night in the hut, with her gown and tiara. Where Din wrapped his arms around her and swayed to invisible music, whispering words in a language she didn’t understand. How he rested his forehead against hers, explaining what the touch meant to his people and why he did it so often. When Grogu returned to the house, tugging at her skirts to be picked up and cooing at her with his wide eyes and smile. 

It all felt so far away suddenly. Like a dream that she could not reach anymore. 

No, her arrival in Senex was far from a celebration. 

*****

The days that followed were a blur. The gowns she wore were long sleeved, covering the scar that had been left behind. People –members of the court, members of the Senate, friends of hers –were in and out of the home. They greeted her, they spoke at her but not to her. Congratulations were given, half meaningful and half just because it was expected. If they asked her questions, they didn’t truly want an answer. They just wanted her to nod and smile. She hardly did that, though her mother would prod at her when she didn’t. Sharp nails would dig into her spine, a silent reminder to behave herself. 

A party was planned to celebrate her engagement to Silas, and her mother warned her that he would make his formal declaration at the party at the end of the week.

“You will say yes. And you will pretend that you are happy,” Calisto warned, pointing a dinner knife at her. “Do you understand me?”

“Yes, mother.”

“Good,” Calisto concluded, lifting her drink to her lips now. “I have invited Princess Leia and her husband as well. They have a child –you can play with it; I’m sure that will make you feel better.”

She glanced up at her mother, giving her a wary look before excusing herself from the meal. Calisto did not question this, simply returning to her meal without a word. It. The child was it, not him. Not her. Truly, her mother was a cold, unloving person deep down. She always knew that. But stars above, she never thought she was so heartless.

Isowen tried to speak to her as she moved through the empty halls, but she still couldn’t bring herself to interact. The lady-in-waiting mentioned a dress and her circlet, but couldn't find the latter. 

“It doesn’t belong to me,” she said simply, opening her bedroom door. “It never did.”

“Milady –,”

She shut the door, pressing her forehead against it and closed her eyes. If she tried hard enough, she could picture it was Din’s forehead pressed back, promising it would be okay.

*****

It wasn’t difficult to get through the Senex atmosphere without detection. The Crest was old enough, easily forgotten because it was undetectable. It was getting through the capital city that would be the more challenging part. It was infested with storm troopers, carrying their blasters as if they had any sense on how to use them. But he slipped through without detection, keeping close to the shadows.

Finding the palace wasn’t hard either –it was the largest building in the city, ornate and a bit overdone. It was determining which room was hers that gave him the hardest time. With the scanner within his helmet, he shot himself into the air with his pack, scanning each room until he settled on a room that felt like it would be hers, though it was empty. Landing on the balcony, he broke the latch on the doors and pushed them open, slipping into the room without a word.

It was definitely her room. While dark, it showed clear signs of being lived in with an unmade bed and a stack of books on the nightstand. His steps were careful, light, as he made his way into the room further. He glanced at the bedroom door, scanning through to pick up on the guards that waited outside. When he turned his attention back to her room, his eyes caught a glimpse of an imperfection against the otherwise tidy space.

It was close to her bed, and when he stepped over to it –he could see the stain of blood on her sheets as well.

His breathing turned ragged, trying to control himself. There was no way he could take on every guard in this palace if he stormed out now. But Maker help whoever did this to her –they would not make it out alive. Din needed out of the room; needed away from the space and slipped out the door to the balcony once again.

After a while of peering into her bedroom, light flooded the room momentarily and there she stood, head pressed against the door. Her dress was a dark red, loose on her frame with sleeves that went past her fingertips. From behind, he could see she was trying not to cry.

“I think I preferred the green dress,” he whispered, announcing his presence as he stepped back into the room. She whipped around, back against the door, and stared at him with watery eyes.

“Din,” she breathed, tears falling as she crossed the room in two long strides to throw her arms around his middle. He wrapped his arms around her shoulders, pulling her close to him with his hand on the back of her head. Her entire body shook from the sobs that overcame her. “I’m sorry, I —,”

“Don’t apologize,” he interrupted, pulling back to look at her properly. “The ship is waiting, we can go —,”

“No, I-I can’t.” 

He froze, staring down at her. He didn’t understand –she couldn’t go with him? He had come to save her, he had risked –

But she continued, shaking her head. “I mean, I can’t. I can’t leave the palace, Din.”

She held her out her arm, tugging open the button that held her sleeve. Once it loosened, she slid it carefully over the bandages, trying to keep it from getting caught. His heart pounded in his ears, and he knew now where the blood on her floor and bed came from.

“My mother, she…my first night home —there’s a chip,” she explained, hands trembling now as Din took her arm cautiously in his hands. “If I step foot anywhere she doesn’t seem appropriate, it shocks me and notifies her.”

He unwrapped the bandage, noting it needed to be changed more than anything to avoid infection, and examined the scar that now took up the length of her arm. The skin was healing, luckily, but the bacta spray had not been reapplied, suggesting that whoever did the shoddy job of stitching her up was inexperienced.

“I’m going to kill her,” he whispered. It shouldn’t have been audible, but his modulator picked it up and he felt her tense. 

“Din, you can’t be here –Grogu, Sorgan –,”

“Will be safe,” he promised, looking back at her finally. Her eyes –wide and shimmering with tears still –bore into his and he wanted to steal her away from this forsaken place. But with the chip implanted in her arm, he had to come up with another plan of attack. 

Din guided her to the bed, sitting her down. He kneeled in front of her as he reached for the med kit that sat on her floor, having been left there from when she last changed her bandages. While there was no bacta spray, there were clean wraps and disinfectant cloths, so he settled on simply covering what was there for the time being. She winced as he pulled the old bandages off entirely, setting them to the side. Her good hand rested on his shoulder, squeezing the exposed part of his flight suit as he worked the tender flesh. He wrapped the bandages around her arm again, pulling them tight to protect the wound. 

For a moment, he hesitated. Then slowly, he lifted the bottom of his helmet over his chin and pressed his lips to the bandages. Her hand on his shoulder tightened, surprised by the touch. When he glanced up, her eyes were closed tight —trying to ensure she saw nothing.

“I’m sorry, cyar'ika,” he whispered, lowering his helmet once more before looking up at her through his visor. “Has Credence touched you?”

She shook her head, reaching out to touch the cheek of his helmet. “No, I…I’ve avoided him. But the wedding –,”

“Won’t happen,” Din stated harshly, reaching behind him to pull a sheath from his belt. He held the weapon out to her. When they were on Sorgan, he had considered what it meant to present the blaster to her, if she knew the importance. But the blaster was nothing compared to the dagger that rested in his hands. When he unsheathed it, the plated gold caught the lights of the city and her brow furrowed as she reached for it. It bore the mudhorn signet that he wore on his armor, etched into the blade. 

“Din…,” she whispered, holding the weapon in the palm of her hand cautiously. “Are you…the stories…are they true?”

“Yes.” He nodded once, wrapping his hand around hers to hold the dagger together.

“You’re…you’re asking me to marry you?” Her voice was laced in disbelief, as if she couldn’t understand what was happening.

“Only if you’ll have me,” he murmured, squeezing her hand tight around the dagger. “It’s not an elaborate experience. We exchange vows and that would be it –we can do it now –we’d be married. Then Credence won’t be able –,”

She looked up at him, mouth opening to say something, then she shook her head. “Din…” Then she pulled her hand from his. “I can’t marry you; not like this.”

He thought he stopped breathing. It was like his world had suddenly crashed down around him, and he held the dagger in his hand limply. But she reached forward, both hands resting on the chin of his helmet as she made him look at her.

“Do you love me, Din Djarin?” She asked, searching for any sign of expression behind his visor.

“I do,” he promised, staring up at her. More than anything, he wanted to rip the helmet off so she could see his face. So he could kiss her, and show her how much he truly loved her. “I love you.”

“Then you don’t want to marry me like this,” she concluded, tears in her eyes as she leaned in to press her forehead against his. “You want to marry me when your child can be here to become our child. When your hand is not being forced by my mother, but by your heart.”

“I –,”

“Din, please,” she begged, closing her eyes as the tears finally fell over her cheeks. “I want to marry you. But I want to marry you on my own terms, not anyone else’s.”

He stared at her for a long time before he removed his gloves, tossing them to the side, so he could wipe her tears away. His other hand lifted the dagger once more, wrapping their hands around the hilt once again. 

“Then we won’t get married today,” he whispered, squeezing her hand tight around the handle of the blade. “But this dagger is yours; made from a piece of your life into a piece of mine. If you accept it, then you’re accepting that I will marry you the moment I can.”

“Of course I accept it, Din.”

———

Taglist (CLOSED): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double—take @sunshine96 @demisexuallover @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne @sl-ut @munsons-queen @intense-sneezing @geekrenaissance @dancealongthelightofday @tizylish @ruleroftides @aheadfullofsteverogers

[manias-wordcount]

hello :) can you write a black butler oneshot w/ sebastian michaelis x fem reader?

reader is a succubus demon and she and seb are ex lovers of some sort then one day seb is surprised to see reader working as a servant in the manor. ciel accepted her without seb's knowledge but ciel also did not know about their history. seb is a bit skeptical of reader cause he does not know her motives so he acts a bit cold towards her but reader actually did it just cause missed seb (but not that she'll admit it cause she is too proud for that. also maybe seb feels the same who knows lol) reader is the teasing and provocative type if thats ok. pls ignore this request if ever its complicated to understand, i just based this on some random imagination i had hehe. anyway thank you :>

What You Couldn't Do (Sebastian Michaelis x Reader)

𝗔/𝗡: 𝗵𝗲𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗴𝗼!! 𝘀𝗼𝗿𝗿𝘆 𝗶𝘁 𝗴𝗼𝗱 𝗸𝗶𝗻𝗱𝗮 𝘀𝗮𝗱 𝗹𝗼𝗹

𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚: 𝘀𝗼𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗲𝘅𝘂𝗮𝗹 𝗹𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘂𝗮𝗴𝗲 𝘂𝘀𝗲𝗱

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

The door to the kitchen shuts behind you with no fanfare. That is to say, there’s no light-hearted, half-shouted greeting from one of the other quirky members of staff. Nor was there a harsh, barked order from the young master of the household. There wasn’t even a small, near silent yet warm grunt of acknowledgment from your favorite tea-sipping house steward. 

  So naturally…

  “Oh, Sebastian!”

  …you knew who it was…

  “To what to owe the pleasure of this-”

  …and all that it entailed.

  In an instant, you find yourself cutting off your own words with the swiftest of tongues. You suppose it truly is the smartest choice. You had only been working at the Phantomhive Manor for a mere couple of days. You were still in all sense of the word. You didn’t yet have the young master’s good favor. Nor did you think you could ever be on the receiving end of any sort of sympathy from a boy such as him. So it’s only right you learn your place and you learn it well. Because while such a feeling make be odd and discomforting, you imagine it’s still better than the feeling of the knife being held between Sebastian’s gloved hand plunge itself into your throat.

  “What is your aim.” His low murmur comes from behind as he traps your body from behind between himself and the counter. Despite his words, you know to take everything as a demand rather than a question purely based on the dull pressure of the boning knife pressed lightly against your jugular. That, among other things of course. “Why are you here.”

  You pursue your lips, fully aware of the way his eyes would follow your every action through your faint reflection in the mirror. His voice is as cold as you remember it to be. Unfeeling and so very cruel. The unspoken threat to you is loud and clear. His utter disdain for you? Even louder and even clearer. Yet, you find that it’s terribly hard to hide your excitement. The arm that crosses over your chest to hold the knife to your throat brings up so many memories. The way his body presses and molds into yours reminds you so much of the past. When the two of you weren’t so-called co-workers serving under the most irritating of charges. When the two of you weren’t so-called enemies who spent your days and nights, far, far apart. When the two of you weren’t anything to each other. 

  But when the two of you were lovers.

  “Knife play, Sebastian? That’s a new one…” And fueled by those resurfaced memories, you respond to him. It’s obvious in the way that his eyes narrowed into dangerous slits through the window’s reflection, you know you’re not exactly giving him what he wants. But you hope- no, you don’t hope, you know- he’ll play along with your typical game. Just for a little longer. Just one last time. “You certainly seem like a much different man than from what I remember…I wonder how that little brat managed to whip you into-!”

  Once again, you found yourself cutting your words short in favor of a long life. Your murmured words were meant to be heard. Meant to rock the boat. Meant to get yourself in trouble. They always were. But you know when enough is enough. Even when your entire life is about toeing the line and saying the things that men and women wish they could say- you when it’s not your turn to speak. At least, not your turn for the moment. 

  Though you can’t help but feel pleasantly surprised now that the threat you’re faced with is being phrased a little differently than before. No, the knife is not being pressed further into your skin. It still sits where it was originally- relaxed in a comfortable grip as it delivers the lightest of kisses against your skin. Rather, it’s Sebastian himself who has changed. It seemed that with your bold words, he was no longer content with just trapping you with weight. The arm that had now snaked against your lower waist and was holding onto your hip with a vice-like grip tells you as if the action was words itself. 

  “I won’t ask you again.” He bites out behind you in a harsh whisper and it’s almost shameful how your body instantly reacts to the feeling of his breath just dancing over your ear. “Why have you followed me here.”

  The way you just shivered at his words? The way you just gasped at his tone? You’re worse than you thought. God, what are you doing? Chasing a man like you weren’t the one who should be chased in the first place? All while trying to play coy as if you weren’t practically shaking with excitement at the thought of seeing him again. All while trying to play powerful as if the first thing you wanted to do when you saw him after all this time was to get on your knees and listen to his every command. 

  You’re not going to last like this. You’re not, you’re not, you’re not. So with one last selfish act for yourself, you decide that you won’t That you had come all this way. That you had pulled all these strings to get here. And the very least you could do for yourself after all this time running and running and running after a man you know doesn’t deserve you was to be kind to yourself. That’s all you could do. Be kind to yourself. Because if not today? Because if not now? Then when?

  “I missed you…Sebastian.”

  As if you could ever be kind to yourself at all…

  “What…” For once, he sounded stunned. This great and powerful demon that you knew so well sounded like he was taken by surprise. But even then, you couldn’t enjoy the feeling. Even then you couldn't look in the eyes- even as he released you from his hold and stepped away. You couldn’t. Not with your heart beating so fast you could have sworn you were alive in this moment. Not with your throat shaking so much you could have sworn that you were truly the blushing virgin you tried to appear as. “No. No, that cannot be true.”

  Not with the way he denies you after all this time.

  “Oh, but it is, Sebastian. Even after all this time…” You murmur softly, a sad smile crossing taking over your beautiful face. Words left unsaid. Memories left on repeat. And heartbreak that begins to take shape. You couldn’t look him in the eyes now that your life has been spared. You couldn’t look him in the eyes now that the two of you are no longer close. You couldn’t look him in the eyes when you feel like this. “Even after all this time, I…I continue to miss you.”

  And you certainly couldn’t look him in the eyes right now.

  Because how could you stand to see such a handsome face through the blurry mess of tears?

  You just couldn’t. 

  You just couldn’t.

[dizscreams]

hiii love, i hope you’re having a great day/night! i’m back at it again with another mindy request! (for this the reader and mindy have been pining after each other for awhile!)

okayyy so i’m thinking this is where ghostface attacks everyone in the apartment and instead of anika, the reader gets stabbed, along with mindy ofc. while danny sets up the ladder, the reader and mindy start fretting over each other and trying to put pressure on each other’s wounds because they’re panicking and don’t want to lose each other. the readers wounds are so bad that they think they’re gonna die at this point so they convince mindy to cross the ladder first. but when the reader is crossing it, ghostface starts shaking the ladder. mindy panicks and tries to cross the ladder again to pull the reader through the window. ofc mindy saved the reader cuz she’s a badass <33 afterwards they’re finally confessing bc they were so scared the other would die:(( just angst to comfort and fluff!! and pls feel free to add anything to this! i like when we collab with our ideas :D

🧚🏽

HI DARLING! :) I love that you don’t mind me adding random things to your requests 😭 your ideas are just so brilliant that you get my brain and my own ideas flowing 🤭 but anyways this idea is beautiful and I love it! hope you enjoy <3

I wont let anything happen to you — Mindy Meeks ★

PAIRING: Mindy x gn!reader

SUMMARY: It’s the apartment scene and instead of Anika getting hurt really bad it’s you! You go across the ladder Ghostface tries and kills you but Mindy saves you. After all of that you both confess to each other and it’s a happy little ending :)

WARNINGS: stabbing and blood

(btw there are definitely tons of mistakes just ignore them 😭)

You were sitting on the couch with Anika, she was studying while you were watching TV. The Core 4 were talking and laughing at the dinner table. Mindy always looked so pretty when she laughed. You’ve had this enormous crush on her for like forever but always assumed she never felt the same since there were no signals telling you otherwise.

Everyone had turned silent because of the noises in Quinn’s room.

“My god Quinn and her gentleman caller are back at it again” Tara says and they all begin to laugh. The notifications of everyone at the tables phones puts a stop to their laughter and they all give each other a confused look.

Immediately after that Quinn starts screaming and shouting from her room and you all stand up running near her door. Chad is behind Tara protectively and Mindy is beside you. The noises become silenced and all Mindy says is

“Run”

In a flash, Ghostface pushes Quinn’s dead body out the door and it lands on Anika knocking her over. She starts screaming and Tara and Chad make a run for it out of the door. Anika quickly gets up and runs after them, not wanting to be apart of what’s happening.

Ghostface is standing there watching while Mindy mutters a curse under her breath. Ghostface quickly slashes Mindy’s arm and she falls while Sam moves out of the way. “Mindy!” you shout and then turn to Ghostface “You stay the fuck back!” You’re on the ground too at this point and try your best to hit and kick him away.

This Ghostface is so much stronger than you however and they end up pinning you to the ground and choking you. Sam runs to get a knife from the kitchen but they’re all gone so she grabs the knife block instead. Ghostface lifts you up and holds you against the fireplace while Mindy’s holding her arm and groaning in pain.

He stabs you in the stomach and you cry out in pain. “NO” Mindy says while she struggles to get up. Ghostface starts pulling the knife upwards in your stomach. You yell out even louder and you’re pretty sure the whole apartment can hear you.

Mindy’s screaming and crying at this point and Sam comes running and hits Ghostface with the knife block. Ghostface drops to the ground while you stand there and hold your stomach with tears rushing down your face.

Sam and Mindy help you run into Quinn’s bedroom and Sam locks the door while Mindy sits you on the edge of Quinn’s bed. Ghostface is banging and kicking on the door and Sam’s trying to keep it shut. You and Mindy are holding your wounds and Mindy put her arm around you without her realizing it.

Ghostface suddenly stops pounding on the door and Sam gets worried.

“Mindy! Close the bathroom door” she whispers while Mindy’s nodding and getting up from the bed. She makes it in and yells “FUCK! That guys dead!” As Ghostface runs in the bathroom and Sam rushes in to help Mindy close the door. They end up going to close the other bathroom door that lead back into Quinn’s room.

Mindy locks it and Sam scoots Quinn’s dresser in front of it to keep Ghostface out and buy her time to think of a plan. You can’t do much other than hold your stomach and look at all the blood rushing out of you. You couldn’t survive this there was no way.

Ghostface kicks and punches the door trying to get it open while Sam and Mindy are putting their back to the dresser to try and put more force. Sam notices her boyfriend out of his window from the other building waving his hands and goes towards the window in Quinn’s room to try and find a way out of this.

“Mindy- Mindy are you doing” you trail off not being able to focus “-okay are you okay?”

“I’m fine! Don’t worry about me please just try and keep pressure on your stomach!”

She struggles to speak as Ghostface is still kicking the door trying to get it open and your hands are shaking so bad you think they might fall off. You look over at the window to see Danny putting a ladder across both apartment windows.

Sam speaks quick not wanting to waste any more time “You two go first!”

“No, I need to hold the door! You go and I’ll get Y/N next!”

“Mindy-“

“GO!”

Sam crawls across slowly and starts leaning a bit until Danny helps her level the ladder evenly.

“You’re losing a lot of blood!” Mindy tells you

You struggle to respond but come up with “Say something more POSITIVE!”

Sam makes it across and starts yelling at you to come across next. Mindy gets away from the door and goes to you saying, “Listen to me you have to go first”

“I cant- i cant”

“You have to!”

“No Mindy no! You go I’ll be right behind you I promise”

Ghostface starts kicking on the door with more force and Mindy looks at the door and back to you with panicked eyes before chastely kissing your head. She climbs out the window and starts crawling on the ladder.

Ghostface gets an arm out of the door and into the room swinging the knife around trying to cut something.

You start crying even more and look to see Mindy making her way up across the ladder. You go to get up and you turn to now see Ghostface in the crack of the door as he’s still trying to kick it open. With horror you move as fast as you can out the window.

You look at how high up you are and start shaking your head “No- No I cant, I can’t do it”

A bunch of ‘yes you can’ and ‘hurry’ comes from the others and you slowly start to move across the ladder. Without you knowing Ghostface had made it into the room. Everyone immediately shut up and that alarmed you.

“What?”

“Y/N YOU HAVE TO MOVE RIGHT NOW” Mindy shouts. You turn around to see Ghostface standing there looking at you. You start yelling ‘NO!’ in terror.

Everyone was yelling at you to move, your stomach was screaming in agony, and you were making small progress on the ladder not thinking you would make it.

But regardless of your doubts and your anxious thoughts you kept moving and were halfway there before Ghostface plunged his knife at the bottom of the window and grabbed the ladder.

He began shaking it and you were screaming in terror along with everyone else.

“Guys I don’t want to die!” You sobbed.

“You wont!” Mindy yells back to you as she goes out the window ignoring Sam’s screams for her to turn back. She wasn’t going to let you die. She couldn’t. She goes back on the ladder and grabs your hand.

“Cmon!”

Ghostface starts shaking more aggressively but you guys are so close Mindy won’t back out now. You guys quickly crawl and Sam and Danny do their best to hold on to the ladder and Mindy so you both don’t slip.

You’re dizzy from all the blood you’ve lost and all the screaming and all the commotion that’s happening right now. With a slight tilt of the ladder you freeze as you think this is the end but Mindy had made it back into the window and was now dragging you in.

Sam and Danny help you onto the ground and Ghostface gives the ladder a few hits in defeat before grabbing his knife and turning away.

You’re immediately in Mindy’s arms as she’s crying and hugging you tightly not wanting to let go. You both couldn’t believe you were alive right now. You sobbed into her chest and let her hold you not caring that you were in so much pain it was unreal.

“Mindy I was so scared” you weep.

“I know, I know you were. I was too.”

Sam quickly gets you both and says “cmon I think the police are here.”

fast forward a littleee!

.・゜゜・★・゜゜・．

You woke up in a hospital bed with Mindy by your side.

“Oh thank god, I’m so glad you’re awake” she squeezed your hand. “Hi” you smile and she smiles back at you.

“Is your arm okay?”

“With all the pain you’re probably experiencing right now you’re still worried about me?”

“Of course I am, min. I really care about you.” A shy smile creeping on both of your faces.

Right. This was the moment. This was when Mindy was going to confess to you. She thought it’d be kinda romantic-ish you both almost died together but she saved you and now you were both in a hospital room alone! What could go wrong? Besides the fact you probably didn’t feel the same but she was willing to risk it.

“Y/N, I need to tell you something.”

She sounded serious. “Yeah? What’s up?”

Here goes nothing

“I like you. I like you as in more than a friend. You’re just so charming and funny and just gorgeous. You’ve always been by my side and you’re such a compassionate person. I don’t think I’ve met anyone like you before and that’s what makes you stand out to me.” She looks at your stunned eyes and panics “This was so stupid of me I’m sorry I know this isn’t the right time-“

You cut her off by kissing the hand she was still holding yours with. “I like you too, Mindy. In a more than a friend kind of way.” You said teasing her a little.

With both of you grinning she leaned in and you followed her movement causing you both to share a kiss.

She pulls away and said “I’m so glad you made it, you don’t know how long I’ve wanted to tell you that.”

You giggled before responding, “me too.”

OMG IM SORRY THIS IS SO LONGG. I hope you like it and that it wasn’t too much 😭 this is probably gonna be the only thing I write tonight I’m sorry :(

[aliidarling]

hey alii it’s your fav riooo!! :3 anyways no more silliness.. can you write where your getting stalked by Michael and he breaks in and fucks the brains out of u, oh and has a size kink/bondage? thank you i love u and your fics!!! 🩷

enjoy the silence

MICHEAL MYERS x fem!reader

nsfw content — pls scroll if uncomfortable

summary: myers decides to break in while you’re babysitting your friends younger brother

warnings: smut, p in v, size kink, bondage, knife play, sadism/masochism, blood

reminder reader doesn’t know the myers iconic mask because this takes place the night of his return in the og movie :)

nsfww content below !!

this years halloween wasn’t like last years, the year before and all the halloweens you’ve lived through. normally it was cheery, bright, with lots of candy and spooky costumes jumpscaring you at every corner. you’d always look forward for october 31st, the scariest day of the year.

your favorite day of the year. you were a horror fanatic, always binge watching horror movies and buying merchandise. friday the 13th was one of your favorite franchises, the slasher and gruesome scenes catching your eye from a young age. ever since then you’d always get excited at the mere mention of horror aspects.

you remembered years ago when the myers incident happened— when the perfect family down the block broke apart and crumbled into mere names you’d see on the newspaper. you were friends with the daughter, having a few classes with the upperclassmen which you two shared.

she was so sweet. always giving you pencils, helping you braid your hair, sometimes walking you home. she was too young to leave the earth. the reminders of that terrifying night rung in your head every halloween, slowly ruining the once colorful holiday for you.

now even fifteen years later, flashes of red and blue tainted the back of your mind as you sat on the couch of your best friends house. you had been ‘hired’ by your best friend to babysit his little brother. you didn’t mind— her brother, kilo, was a sweet boy. he was barely passing second grade, but you weren’t one to judge.

“you finish your homework, bud?” you ask the little boy who sat across from you. he looks up from his papers, crayons at his side with his papers covered in scribbles and his bad handwriting.

“almost!” he smiles, returning back to his homework and doodling. you hum and glance back at the movie playing in front of the two of you, the street lights illuminating the living room subtly through the blinds. you could hear the kids from the streets chatting, the giggling and the sounds of halloween night.

you hear a thud from the kitchen, making you frown. you pat the kids back and tell him to stay out, standing up and walking to the hallway. you enter the kitchen and look around, your eyes catching glimpse of a fallen plate on the ground. you shudder. your friend and her parents weren’t gonna be too happy with you about that.

“hey, kilo?” you call out, grabbing the broom and sweeping it up into a bag.

“yeah?” he calls back.

“i’ll let you keep your ipad in bed if you take the blame for me about this.” you hold up the bag of shredded glass sheepishly, trying to win over the little boy with the bats of your lashes. he hums in thought, tapping his chin before nodding eagerly.

you grin and give kilo a hair ruffle before ushering him up the stairs. he takes two stairs at a time before skipping into his room, the dark blue walls painted and his bed having star wars bedding. it was cute, you could tell his parents loved him.

“night night, kiddo. you need anything i’ll be downstairs, alright? i’m gonna be sleeping in your sisters room tonight.” you tell him gently, keeping up on your promise and handing him his ipad. he giggles and nods, quickly opening it up and ignoring every other word that drops from your mouth. you sigh and walk off, leaving the door open with a small crack. damn ipad kids.

the next hour is calm. you’re downstairs, handing out candy while catching up with your shows in her television. you’re happy she has cable. you’re quite comfortable in her house, you’ve been over so many times a part of you considers it your second home.

the sound of another thud grabs your attention. at first you think maybe kilo was being kilo and caused some ruckus, but you quickly realize it came from downstairs. you get up from your couch and walk towards the kitchen once again, blinking dumbly at the sight of the pantry door wide open. you swore you closed it earlier.

“this is creepy.” you grumble to yourself, stepping forward to slowly close it. once the click echoes, you stand there for another moment, a part of you expecting a loud jumpscare. the silence is anticlimactic and you sigh tiredly, dragging yourself back to the couch.

slumping back against the cushion, you wrap yourself in the throw blanket they have and hum, focusing your eyes on the television in front of you again. the streets have quieted down, leaving only a few determined trick or treaters that you’ve started to ignore when they ring. you’re too lazy to get up.

another few long minutes pass before you hear footsteps down the hall. you stiffen immediately and sit up, peeking over the top of the couch down the hall. no way kilo made those footsteps— they were too heavy.

fuck. did someone break in? it’s halloween night, you wouldn’t be surprised. lots of people always engaged in reckless behavior this night of the year.

“hello?” you call out, sitting up sheepishly and hugging the blanket around you. you peek down the dark, luring hall and shiver. you gulp down your nerves and let out another call. “kilo? i thought i told you to stay in your room, kid.”

silence answers you.

it’s creepy. too creepy. you don’t like this anymore. you want to go upstairs and check on kilo, make sure he’s okay and maybe sleep next to him in his bed. you were creeped out and wanted to make sure he was safe mostly.

a shaky exhale leaves you as you turn back forward, preparing to stand up to make your debut upstairs. you’re met with the terrifying sight of a man over six feet standing over you, his mask staring down at you emotionless.

you don’t scream. no. you stare up at him with a gaping expression, mouth open and eyes wide in terror. your heart skips several beats and your entire world goes radio silent, a ringing noise in your ears. you were paralyzed. paralyzed from fear. you don’t know what to do, your fingers suddenly feel like twenty pounds and your throat is dry.

oh fuck. he’s gonna kill you now, move dumbass!

another long second passes before you quickly move, sitting up and trying to jump over the back of the couch. he’s blocking the front, and his hand comes down to grab your shirt and manhandle you down onto your back again. the couch is a pull out so you’re thrashing around with your legs stretched out, fist throwing weak punches. he easily holds your wrist down and stares silently down at you.

tears fill your eyes, trembling in fear. you try and muster up the courage to speak but each words stays on the tip of your tongue, wavering shakily in your head.

“who are you?!” you finally managed to to shriek, fist clenched and your wrists being held by his large hands. his fingers were thick and long, his body well over six feet with a large amount of mass. the size difference was laughable.

his heavy breathing echoes in your ears, taunting you. he doesn’t answer your question, instead he slowly picks up his knife and drags it down your neck. the tip of his knife catches into your skin lightly and you whimper at the feeling. it stings.

his knife is dragged from your neck to your collarbone, tugging aimlessly at your collar. his movements hold no rush, instead ease and stealth. his mask is staring down at you as you bite your lip, muffling your pained sniffles as the knife nicks at your collarbone.

“why are you doing this?” you croak. he doesn’t answer.

the knife along your skin continues its journey down your stomach until it drifts along your pajama shorts, slowly creeping underneath the waistband and letting it snap against your skin. he’s inhuman, not making a single noise and instead drinking in each of your cries and reactions to his touch.

his grip around your wrists stiffen, gripping you tighter and holding you down firmer onto the couch. your hips squirm weakly before you’re shut up by the small nick he delivers to your soft skin. a silent warning.

the knife against your neck and the rope around your wrists is a reminder to stay quiet and still as he slowly sinks his cock inside you. it’s thick and girthy, the size belittling all the other boys you’ve ever touched. it hurts, the feeling of having your walls getting stretched by his mushroom tip.

a small sob leaves at the feeling, your hands tugging weakly at the rope, pretty tears covering your flushed cheeks. a burn in your pussy aches your lower body, thighs tensing up as he inches his way deeper and deeper. your cunt squeezes him tight and he doesn’t give any reaction other then his fists grabbing the cushion around you tighter, the fabric wrinkling.

“t-that hurts, hey— stop, slow down at least,” you plead pitifully. your voice is smaller then intended, your mouth forming an ‘O’ shape as the thickness has you going silent. you don’t have the bravery to complain any further, not after he pushes his knife a little closer to your neck. you go silent immediately.

the feeling of him sitting inside you still is only temporary before he slowly pushes out, leaving just the tip, before slamming back inside. he’s brutal with the way he buries himself deeply, making sure every centimeter of himself is squeezed tight. a moan you do your best to muffle escapes your throat.

he repeats the action again, slowly pulling out only to slam himself deeper again. somehow his tip presses against your g-spot, making you clench down and gasp. his hands grasp your waist, the difference in his fingers and your torso noticeable— he can almost fit his entire two hands around your stomach.

you were nothing compared to this big, burly man. not with the way he was holding your waist down and slamming his cock in and out, knife discarded by your side. your eyes roll back as you moan, lips quivering and producing noises you can no longer stop. not when he was this good at fucking you.

more slams of his hips had you clenching down, crying out for him to slow down and give you mercy. he was mean, battering your insides and plummeting his cock inside, like he didn’t wanna go a single second without being sheathed inside your warm cunt. he can feel the way your walls squeeze him and a low grunt escapes his throat, squeezing your waist tight.

one if his hands grabs your neck and squeezes, not gentle at all. you can feel your air ways get cut off and your eyes go wide. and your pussy tightens even more, making him cum deep inside. his load is thick and hot, painting your insides the creamy white color. it’s not surprising you immediately cum afterwards, the penetration and the warm stickiness making you cry loudly and release in his cock.

he slowly pulls his cock out and watches as the cream pie leaks out of your pussy, staining the couch fabric a dusty white. you shudder at the feeling of emptiness after being used to being stuffed full. a small hiccup leaves you, trembling still.

you gasp as one of his hands grab your thighs, holding it still while his hand slowly grabs the knife beside you. you stiffen in fear and shake your head, whimpering and pleading.

“please don’t— i was good— don’t hurt me—“ you’re shut up by him squeezing your thigh hard, a silent warning. you shut up, muffling your hiccups and cries. you watch as he slowly drags his knife to your meaty thigh and presses down with a little bit of pressure, making little lines. small droplets of blood drip down your thigh and you want to vomit.

he tilts his head down at you, silently wondering so many things. why were you crying? if you looked closely, he had marked his name. that was no reason to cry.

[tachimichishrine]

Please I am begging, I can’t get over just how perfect Tachihara would be with the whole ghost face trend. Please please please

<what. what if I told you I wholeheartedly agree. throws my headcanons and love at you>

"scream for me"

⫭◦⨝◦⫬

tachihara michizou x fem! reader {ghostface trend} hcs

warnings: nsfw ; kitchen sex ; knife play ; intended lowercase ; cursing; unedited so unedited i wrote this half asleep thinking abt being pussy drunk on tachi pls forgive me

manz is a SPY. he's done undercover work and wears a disguise 24/7 (his disguise is a goddamn bandaid but he's hot so we let it slide) he adores getting dressed up

I think he'd be really bad at taking it serious though

100% he gets very childish about things like birthdays, holidays, halloween bc he didn't get that kind of experience with his family when he was younger (womp womp :/)

the hunting dogs obviously don't have anything to do with halloween so imagine his surprise when he caught the port mafia hq covered in spider webs and blood.

the blood was likely real

elise was the one who insisted on it, and if she insists, everyone is wearing cat ears and fake vampire fangs.

chuuya was a vampire the dude definitely had practice

he was definitely in the spooky scary spirit when he had his head on your lap, one hand sliding under and up between your thighs like a pillow and watching scream

i KNOW he felt just the teeny tiniest insecurity when you started calling certain scenes really hot but he tried, really hard, to ignore it.

got a little too comfortable and sleepy when you starting running your fingers through his hair and found himself letting out a yelp at the stupidest jumpscares

you teased him for it all night

"do you think I'd survive in one of those horror movies?" you asked later that night, curled up in bed.

"your dumbass would probably trip and kill yourself on a kitchen knife while making breakfast."

"well, fuck you."

"only if you insist" said with his trademark grin.

you got him back by playing into his jumpiness and hiding around every corner, even when you're on missions

you sprung out with a dramatic ghost-like scream (holding back laughter) on one important mission and the man almost shot you

like he pulled the trigger and everything and had to use his ability to keep the bullet from drilling a hole in your stupid skull.

you toned down the pranks after that.

however, it did give him an idea.

he started using his ability to set up the mood for payback by making metal doors creak or scraping chair legs on the ground slowly

a chill physically ran up your spine when you were walking hand in hand and the front door of an empty "for sale" store slammed open, then shut.

maybe he liked it a little how you squeezed his hand when he did that

maybe he liked it a little when you punched him on the shoulder as you realized it was just his antics

but he sure as hell liked it when you roughly smacked his naked ass and shoved his face into the sheets later that night to teach him a lesson

you liked his screams more like that anyways

tachihara was nowhere to be found after you disappeared into the shower trying to wash off all the smeared cum he'd left on your body. you already thought it was strange that he didn't join you even when you offered, but it was even weirder when you came out in nothing but a towel, and the bed was empty.

"michi, I know you're tryin' to be cute or whatever and scare me, but you're not very subtle about it," you giggled, ditching the underwear to just put on some shorts and one of his shirts. your body bounced onto the mattress that was still warm from your bodies, still smelling like sex and gunpowder. the covers were thrown over you and snuggled into and you waited patiently.

it was amusing, at first.

it was annoying after 10 minutes.

you'd gone on your phone, scrolling listlessly to pass the time while you waited for him to finish up whatever stupid prank he was planning so you could get back to sleep, but a whole half hour had passed and it was beginning to feel a little wrong. you weren't worried (he kicked your ass in training too many times for you not to know how strong he was), but sure as hell curious as to what was going on. it was the spooky season, after all, and there was no harm in indulging a little bit; you dialed his number and heard it ring from somewhere in the apartment.

he was really trying to set it up for you, huh? cute. you figured you'd play along.

the phone was vibrating from the kitchen counter, and you picked it cautiously, glancing around you to find out from where your boyfriend was inevitably going to try to jump at you. you heard a chair move, and your eyes darted to look over in that direction out of instinct.

of course a hand clasped around your mouth and another pulled your waist backwards. you bit his gloved hand playfully to get him to let you go and just giggled, shoving your hips back onto him teasingly and trying to flip around to get a look at him.

your entire body got slammed onto the kitchen counter, hair pulled back in one harsh movement

oh fuck.

you didn't think you'd be bent over so fast, his hips already grinding into your ass while the thin, cheap plastic of his mask rubbed against your cheek, his husky voice laying out every lewd thing you both knew you were thinking. from the way his body was leaning onto you, you guessed that he was shirtless and wearing just about the tightest, low-cut pants known to man being held up by a belt (there was definitely a thick belt; you felt the buckle poke into your lower back every time he'd grind too hard)

"michzou..." you didn't have any problems with what he was doing, but loose fingers were touching your body all over and the thin shorts you'd thrown on previously without a second thought were soaking with every word he'd rasp out. "michi, stop playin' around, I-"

it seems your simple ask got you manhandled again, and both gloved hands were now on your thighs, lifting you up to sit you down on the counter so he could rub against you from the front. it was hard to take it seriously and you let out a giggle when you watched him loom over you with the ghostface mask on, trying to be serious. your fingers went to dig into his shoulders as your hips rolled, back arched trying to feel him better.

he sighed, groaning and trying to slip off the mask when he realized it wasn't having the effect he wanted, but you flicked it back on.

"just because I'm laughing doesn't mean I don't think this is fuckin' hot," you reassured him, ironically chuckling again, and this spurred him to grab your hands and pin them above your head on the cabinets above.

"can't believe you liked gettin' fucked by a masked man this much." his voice was deeper than it usually was but god did it get you throbbing. your legs wrapped around his hips, trying to regain control without your hands.

you quipped back with a sly grin. "would be better if you actually fucked me."

shit, you knew just what to say to get him riled up. he let your hands go to pull off your useless shorts which already had splotches of your arousal, and you seized the opportunity to unbuckle his belt, slide your fist into his pants and pull him out.

getting fucked senseless by your masked boyfriend on the kitchen counter at 3 in the morning was not on your schedule for halloween.

"you know," you mused, your pace slowing once the build up had passed but still rocking yourself on him, "usually the victims try to fight back."

"the fuck does that me-"

the cold metal of a knife poked and teased the exposed skin on his neck, and you felt a little irritated you couldn't see his shock through the mask. "c'mon, you've had your fun, baby, it's my turn."

he wanted to play the part, he really did, but before he could try to resist you had him gently sliced into streaks of red, teeth marks coating his body and his tongue gagging on blood-stained fingers from under the mask. your legs were still secured around his hips, fucking into him slowly and deeply, and every guttural groan that echoed out in the hollow apartment was good enough to keep you going while his body tensed up with rigid muscles and heavy breaths.

he couldn't take it anymore once the searing sting of you smearing his blood on his skin mixed in with the pleasure of dragging against your tightly clenched walls, and he murmured a curse before discarding the mask, messily kissing you with groaning lips buried into your neck once he finally got enough air to pant your name.

ah, the dumbass. he really tried to get you to play along but it was hard when you had him under your thumb. maybe next year, he'd try again.

[tiyawnyana]

"I'll be good"

Request from @hislaevv :

Ao’nung trying his hardest not to bully Lo’Ak bc his protective, sensitive, blueberry bf— Neteyam, gets very moody when any of his siblings get picked on.

“Teyam, I’ll make it up to you. I promise I’ll never do it again. I’ll be good” ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) u can take it from there! ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) very light to moderate nsfw if u can.

Please Ibeg u 😣🙏🏽 tyvm

When I tell you this was a bit of a toughy I'm not kidding but I loved this request, definitely challenging on the bullying part (I hope it turned out OK, I picture Lo'ak as an instigater when it comes to Ao'nung in the future) pls lmk if you like!

Warnings: uh anger, slight fight, lo'ak being a turd, aonung being dumb and some nsfw spice! Also aged up characters, neteyam is 20 Ao'nung is 21

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Ao'nung has learned that in order to stay on his love's good side, he must be kind and helpful with his love's younger siblings. Has he followed through with that? Mostly. Somewhat.

Look, he's been respectful and kind with Kiri. He helps with whatever she needs, and often goes diving with her. Sometimes he has trouble keeping up with her!

He also helps watch over Tuk, often playing with her in the water or teaching her new things.

It's the youngest son that's putting a (metaphorical) knife in his side, Lo'ak.

"Lo'ak no, don't do-"

Ao'nung chuckles as Lo'ak throws the netting a little too hard, toppling over off of the deck. He lands in the water, resurfacing and spitting, only to glare up at him.

"What?"

"You ass-"

"You're not messing with my baby brother, are you, ma' yawne?"

Neteyam approaches them, the two turn to look and Ao'nung smiles so wide while Lo'ak fake gags.

"He pushed me in!"

"What? No I didn't, you fell." He sighs,"I tried to warn you."

Neteyam scowls at the both of them, and they both shut up,"Please be nice."

Ao'nung glares down at Lo'ak, only to receive a light smack on his bicep.

"I mean it, Ao'nung." He's throwing a glance down at Lo'ak before walking off.

Ao'nungs shoulders sag, before he glares and throws a fish at Lo'ak as he snickers.

The next few days it seems that Lo'ak is really testing his patience.

He continuously doesn't listen to directions, specifically when Neteyam shows up to paint Ao'nung in bad lighting when he does get angry. And those nights, Neteyam gives him the silent treatment.

This happens so much throughout the next few days, Ao'nung tries to hold his composure.

And of course, he finally snaps at the worst time.

"NO, Lo'ak, you couldve gotten hurt worse."

He just won't listen to Ao'nungs instructions on the hunts they go out on. He won't stick to the pattern, he just goes off on his own and this time he got hurt, slammed into a coral formation and his back was scraped up. He had to be dragged up out of the water, the wind having been knocked out of his chest.

"I have told you time and time again, stick to the circle." He's angry, dragging Lo'ak to his mother Ronal to have him patched up.

"I tried to this time!" Lo'ak argues, wincing at the vice grip around his bicep.

"No, you didn't! It doesn't help that you still have not improved on your swimming as of late," the next words are sour on his tongue,"You are acting like the demon you were before."

He regrets it as soon as it spills from his mouth because Lo'ak stops abruptly, yanking his arm out of Ao'nungs grip, and to make it worse, Neteyam rounds the corner at the worst time.

"What did you just call him?"

Ao'nungs heart drops into his stomach and his head drops in shame and embarrassment.

"Lo'ak, what happened?" Neteyam checks his brother, a soft gasp leaving his lips and he turns a freezing glare to Ao'nung,"my brother is injured and you call him a demon?"

"Ma'Teyam, please," Ao'nung reaches to him, trying to explain.

"No, we will talk later. Let's go, Lo'ak," and he's dragging him off to their mother.

Neteyam ends up ignoring him the rest of the day, sticking with his brother and family. Ao'nung feels horrible for what he's done.

Ao'nung is sitting on the beach, hours later and trying to figure out how to apologize. He shouldn't have said that, why did he say that? Sure, Lo'ak was impulsive and sometimes reckless but he was not a demon. He was just so angry in the moment; no, it was inexcusable.

He quickly gets up, going off to find Lo'ak and apologize but stops as he sees Neteyam in their pod. He's visually upset, folding fabrics only to throw them across the pod.

Ao'nung silently steps inside before closing the opening flaps, leaving them alone.

"Ma, yawne," he speaks softly.

"Do not sweet talk me, Ao'nung."

He flinches at the tone before clearing his throat,"Please, Teyam, I'm so sorry. Is Lo'ak alright?"

Neteyam stands, turning around to face him and his brows crease.

"Thankfully yes, he's been patched up." He pauses,"I told him to train with you because I thought you could help him, he's wanted nothing more than to fit in over the years but now," he sighs, rubbing a hand down his face,"You called him a demon, just as you did all those years ago."

"I know, I honestly don't know why I did but I am so, so sorry. He got hurt because of my hunting circle and I just," he steps closer,"I don't want him to get hurt because of me. I mustve lost my temper."

Neteyam shakes his head,"You are not supposed to apologize to me, Ao'nung," he points,"You have to apologize to Lo'ak. He needs to know you do not see him as a demon."

"I will, ma' yawne."

Neteyam sighs, crossing his arms. His ears flick back and tail swishes behind him, showing his frustration,"How can I forgive you, when you've hurt my brother? I see you, more than anyone, but this hurts me so."

Ao'nung steps closer, they're nearly touching, and drops to his knees,"I will not do that again, I promise you, I'll apologize in the morning," he reaches for Neteyams hands, kisses along his knuckles,"Ma'Teyam, please, I'll make it up to you. I promise I won't do it again," he kisses his wrists before looking up and locking gazes,"I'll be good."

Neteyam gulps, feels his heartbeat speed up and all his resolve melt away. His ears flick back and tail swishes behind him more, he can't seem to pull his gaze from Ao'nungs needy eyes.

He releases a shakey breath as Ao'nung lifts himself a little, just enough to press a soft kiss to his naval, his hands coming up to gently hold behind his thighs. Neteyam lifts his hands, grasping onto Ao'nungs shoulders.

"Ma' yawne," he gasps at the light nip of teeth over his hip,"You cannot just do thi-" He's stopped, a moan releasing from his throat and he quickly covers his mouth.

Ao'nung grins, having had lifted one hand and stroked the base of Neteyams tail.

"Please, let me make it up to you," he kisses an open mouth kiss right above the band of his loincloth, before licking up his abdomen in one long stroke.

Neteyam gasps once more before grunting, bending at the waist and gripping Ao'nungs jaw, dragging him into a needy kiss.

"You better," he breaks the kiss, staring into his lust filled eyes,"apologize to Lo'ak tomorrow."

"Of course, just let me," Ao'nung groans as he's dragged into another kiss. He stands, gripping Neteyams waist and guides him to their little nest and ushers him to lay down, he finally breaks the kiss,"let me take care of you, ma'Teyam."

He crawls up Neteyam, leaving kisses and little bites along his frame, their bodies grinding against one another. Open mouthed kisses, hickeys and bites are littered amongst eachother, moans filling their pod.

The night continues, and Ao'nung makes it up and then some to his mate.

•••

The next day, Ao'nung apologizes to a smirking, cocky Lo'ak and he prays to Eywa for strength not to, as Neytiri said it once, pluck his eyes out.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

AAAAAAAAAAAAA

Ok again I had a lotta fun writing this so thank you @hislaevv !

Keep challenging me yall, send in more requests! I'm having so much fun writing about these boys (but also send others too!!)

[elviraasstuff]

Sneak peak teehee

Pls ignore any spelling mistakes im in the middle of exams rn

“Mom, I want to be a scientist.”

Miriam stopped what she was doing, knife halfway through a pumpkin. Her mouth hung open, just barely, then closed. Miriam's jaw was tense, the silence of the kitchen deafening. The only sounds were from the quiet tick of a clock in the dining room, and the hum of the fan above the dining room table. Miriam's daughter, Caroline Marie Callhourn, wanting to be a…scientist. Absurd, unladylike, a man's job. Miriam eventually went back to cutting the pumpkin, her demeanour a little more hostile than before.

”That’s a man’s job honey. You shouldn’t be thinking such nonsense.” Miriam spoke through gritted teeth. “You're still a child, you don’t know what’s best for yourself.”

Caroline sighed, turning to look down at her history homework. She took her glasses off, the thick black frames not doing her face any favours. Miriam was stern, set on what she thought was right. Modesty, marriage, children. Education wasn't important for a girl, let alone something like science. That was best left to the men, like fighting in war. Miriam raised Caroline to be the image of a future housewife: Neat hair that was always styled, her head adorned with curls from when she was 5 years old, dresses and skirts that went below her knee and hid her figure, a pair of simple silver studs for earrings. Caroline knew how to cook, and sew, and be in the presence of large crowds of adults. She knew how to smile well, how to stand, and how to sit to be ladylike enough. She knew bible verses, knew only what a woman in 1946 should be worried about knowing.

She also knew the senior school material that was taught in the physics and chemistry classes.

”I’m 16, I know what I want. You’re just trying to make me bored and stuck at home. Like you.”

Miriam stopped again, turning to her daughter. The tiredness was showing in her face and body language. She was tired of her daughter thinking she knew a thing about what she wanted.

”You do NOT speak to me like that! I am your mother and you will treat me how daughters are supposed to treat their mothers! Ungrateful, stupid girl-“ Miriam spat, the knife now pointed directly at Caroline. Her hair, normally done so neatly in a bun, was slightly loose.

Caroline didn't flinch. She was used to this, used to her mom thinking the worst of her. She simply went back to doing her homework, not paying attention to the woman who was still glaring daggers into her from the kitchen. Once again, it was silent, with the exception of the clock that was a tad too loud and the fan that sounded like it was going to fall. Miriam just sighed, letting out a small curse under her breath, then went back to preparing the pumpkin for dinner.

”You ought to get a hold of yourself. If your father were here, he would have smacked you stupid.”