#this one was a lot shorter but the tags won’t be | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

genshinluvr · 8 months

Text

Watch the World Burn

Pairings: Various Genshin Men x Villain!Isekai'd!Reader

Summary: Those who have wronged you, chased you out of the region, and ostracized you will all go down with Teyvat. You will watch the world burn as bodies around you fall to the ground one by one.

Note: This is a lot shorter than the first part, mainly because there's not much to really type about. Plus, I mainly wanted this fic to be graphic and depressing. It's an angst and villain!isekai'd!reader, so I might as well make it all angst and all death. I don't recommend reading this if you were hoping there would be a happy ending. Not every man speaks in this story, but uh, everyone tagged is gone. Not sure about how I feel about this fic, but oh well. It is what it is. Anyway! I don't post anywhere else but on Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and on AO3 (Aaliah_exo).

Warnings: Beheading, suicide, torture, blood, decapitation, betrayal, lots and lots of death

Word Count: 3.8k

This is part 2 of Where I Truly Belong.

You hear nothing but the ocean waves crashing against each other. You’re waist-deep in the ocean, letting the cool water hug your body. It has been four months (Abyss time) since you have seen Dainsleif and four months (actually four days) since you have dealt with the former Geo Archon of Liyue. The Abyss Order has yet to cause any further damage to Teyvat. However, it doesn’t mean the people of Teyvat get to feel at peace. You and the Abyss Order were just getting started.

Splashing and squeaking pulls you out of your thoughts. You blink and look down to see three leisurely otters floating around you, their bellies facing the sky while gazing at you curiously. You stare back, watching them float closer to where you stand. As the otters swim closer, you hesitantly reach out to pet them, only to stop. You don’t want to taint something as innocent as the creatures of Teyvat, but it’s too late now, isn’t it?

You have destroyed many environments of these innocent creatures. Yet, you worry about tainting the three others that are now floating in front of you? The otters squeak curiously, hugging the seashells to their chests, their little noses twitching as they sniff you. One otter swims closer, leaning up to nudge you with their nose. You hold your hand out, and the otter presses their head into the palm of your hand.

For once, you smile and stroke the otter’s head while they squeak happily. The other two otters mimic the first otter— swimming closer and nudging you for attention and pets. You feel at peace in a region you’re not welcome in. Despite not meeting the Hydro Archon and the citizens of Fontaine, you know you’re not welcome in the land of the Hydro Archon. You don’t need to step into the region to know your presence is unwelcome.

A shadow looms over you and the three otters, causing you to freeze, and the otters look up and squeak. You turn to see the Chief Justice of Fontaine standing before you, thighs deep in the water. You size him up, taking a step back to keep the distance between you and the mysterious man. The Chief Justice of Fontaine holds both hands up in front of him.

“I am not here to hurt you,” says Neuvillette.

You clench your hands into fists. “How can I be so sure that you won’t?” You demand, glaring at Neuvillette.

The otters squeak happily, swimming over to the Chief Justice of Fontaine. Neuvillette looks away from you, and a soft smile appears on Neuvillette’s face as he squats down and starts petting each otter. The otters toss their seashells in the air, presenting the pink and vanilla-colored seashells to the long-haired man. While Neuvillette is distracted with the three otters, you’re surveying your surroundings to make sure there aren’t any people lingering around the area.

Once you double-check to make sure Neuvillette is alone, you look over at the Chief Justice of Fontaine, only to see him now standing tall and gazing at you curiously. You clear your throat and cross your arms over your chest, hands itching to open a portal for you to return to the Abyss. It was risky of you to leave the Abyss on your own without Enjou, Agnarr, and Egill at your side to protect you from those who want your head on the silver platter.

You look away from the tall man. “It’s best you leave, Chief Justice of Fontaine. It’s not safe for you to be seen with me… unless the Hydro Archon sent you to kill me,” you mutter bitterly, narrowing your eyes at the white-haired man.

A smile ghosts over Neuvillette’s face. Despite being the Ruler of the Abyss Order, you still cared for his safety. Maybe you’re not as hostile with Neuvillette because you didn’t step foot in Fontaine, nor were you chased out of the region by angry mobs of vision holders. Or maybe, just maybe, the Abyss Order has yet to fully consume you entirely. You still have a small chunk of humanity in you. At least, that’s what Neuvillette is assuming as he continues to analyze you. A squeak and nudge pull your attention away from the Chief Justice of Fontaine. The otter holds up a seashell toward you, gazing at you curiously.

You’re about to grab the seashell when the air suddenly feels out of place. You turn to see Wriothesley charging toward you, prepared to attack you. The three otters dive into the water and swim off in fear. Wriothesley lunges in the air, his fist raised to hit you. You jump out of the way and open a large portal where you previously stood.

“You are under arrest in the Court of Fontaine for— AH!” Wriothesley falls into the portal, and the portal closes up behind him.

Neuvillette narrows his eyes at you, gripping hard on his cane. “Where did you send him?” Neuvillette demands.

You point over to the east, and Neuvillette follows your gesture. A hole opens up in the sky, and Wriothesley plops into the ocean, creating a moderate-sized splash. You sigh in defeat, rubbing your neck. So much for wanting peace— unfortunately, as the Rule of the Abyss, you will never see peace unless you’re in the Abyss.

“I’ll take my leave now,” you say, preparing to leave when an arrow whizzs past you, nicking your neck.

A familiar obnoxious laugh rings in the air, sending chills down your spine. Neuvillette glares at the perpetrator and criminal of Fontaine. The ginger-haired Harbinger struts toward you and Neuvillette with his hands on his hips and head held high. Childe’s bow materializes in his hands, aiming another arrow at your face.

“Think you can get away from me easily?” Childe asks, the corner of his lips quirking up.

Great, more trouble to deal with. Childe lunges toward you and starts attacking. Somehow, Wriothesley is beside Childe, aiding him with the attacks toward you. The strange thing is that Neuvillette isn’t joining in on the fight. Instead, he’s watching from the sidelines.

You roundhouse kick Childe in the face, causing the ginger to stumble back against Wriothesley. Before the two men land on the ground, you open a portal below them and quickly shut it. You don’t look at Neuvillette; instead, you open another portal and step into the galaxy-like portal, leaving the Chief Justice of Fontaine alone.

— Somewhere in the Abyss —

Chained to the wall, Dainsleif leans his head against the wall, closing his eyes with a defeated sigh. A strange sound fills the prison cell, causing Dainsleif to open his eyes. Dainsleif hears a faint scream echoing in the portal, although the same screams are getting louder and louder. Before Dainsleif knows it, Childe and Wriothesley tumble out from the portal, landing on the cold, hard ground.

Childe and Wriothesley quickly get off the ground and look around, still disoriented from their journey through the starry wormhole. Dainsleif looks at the jail cell bars to see two Abyss Lectors standing there, their arms over their chests. Dainsleif frowns and closes his eyes, tilting his head back against the wall.

“I didn’t ask for a cellmate,” Dainsleif mutters.

Agnarr and Egill look at one another before cackling, their laughter echoing through the dungeon. Childe and Wriothesley grab the metal bars, glaring at the two Abyss Lectors as the two Abyssal beings continue to cackle maniacally.

“Those who try to harm the Ruler of the Abyss shall suffer the consequences,” Agnarr thunders, electro crackling in the clenched fist of the Abyss Lector.

Egill and Agnarr soon open a portal and disappear through the celestial door. Childe growls and punches the bars, making Wriothesley and Dainsleif stare at the angry ginger Harbinger. Childe plops on the ground and sighs, resting his head against the wall and closing his eyes. Wriothesley leans against the wall, not saying a word. Killing you is going to be a lot harder than they thought.

Meanwhile, somewhere in the Abyss, you stand before the Anemo Archon. Kneeling before you, arms chained behind his back, the Anemo Archon glares up at you while you smirk at him. You would comment about how pathetic he looks, but his face doesn’t even belong to him. You squat down and grab him by the chin.

“If I kill that traveler, would you also steal his body and parade around Teyvat like how you did with that poor, poor, nameless bard?” You coo, digging your sharp nails into his flesh. “You enjoy stealing someone’s corpse and playing dress up, don’t you?”

Venti glares at you. “Don’t you dare speak on the name of—”

“Name? Oh, please. I never said anyone’s name, Barbatos. You have to be foolish to think I said someone’s name when I didn’t name anyone,” You scoff, releasing the Anemo Archon’s chin and walking to your throne.

Enjou stands beside your throne as you sit down and cross your right leg over your left. You look at two Abyss Heralds and nod. The two Abyss Heralds tighten their grip on Venti’s shoulders, holding him down as Enjou and Egill levitate over to the weak Anemo Archon. Agnarr stands beside your throne, watching the scene unfold.

You lean back in your seat, nodding. “You may begin,” you say nonchalantly.

Flames engulf Enjou and Egill’s hands before they grab the Anemo Archon’s arms, burning through the thin fabric of his clothes. Venti cries out in pain, writhing and trying to escape from their grasp. You yawn and stretch your arms in the air before snickering.

“I’m not sure if you’re screaming and crying in agony because you’re in pain or if it’s because the body of the nameless bard is being harmed,” You tease, tapping your fingers on your biceps and smirking at the writhing Archon.

Agnarr leans down, whispering in your ears, “Your Highness, what do you wish for this Archon’s fate to be?”

You close your eyes, tapping your cheek while trying to block out the sounds of the Anemo Archon screaming and screeching in agony as he continues to burn alive. What shall his fate be? Should you let him live or watch him burn?

You smirk bitterly. “I would say kill him, but Barbatos is a wind spirit cosplaying as his dead friend. Kill the vessel and the wind spirit,” You order. “If it’s impossible to kill the wind spirit, then let the power of the Abyss course through his veins.”

The sounds of Venti’s anguish screams echo through the corridor of the Abyss Order temple, sending chills down the spines of three prisoners. You prop your arm on the armrest, watching the sleeves of the bard’s clothes wither away and his pale flesh turning into an angry red before melting and dripping on the ground. The scent of burning flesh fills the air, causing you to scrunch your nose in disgust and pinch your nose. Agnarr opens the portal beside you and gestures for you to enter the celestial doorway. You shake your head, insisting that you want to watch the Anemo Archon fall before your eyes. Agnarr chuckles and closes the portal, watching you pull out a popcorn bucket from thin air and begin munching away. One Archon down, six more to go.

“I will be watching the world burn as the bodies fall around me one by one,” You say softly.

Agnarr looks at you. “Is that your wish, Your Highness?”

You smirk. “Of course. Those who go against the Abyss Order shall watch their friends and loved ones perish in the hands of the Abyss Order,” you state.

And who are they, the Abyssal beings, to deny the wishes of their dearest Ruler? Your wish is their command. After what felt like hours, you retreat to your bedroom and collapse on your bed, closing your eyes. The torture and the death of the Anemo Archon was quite a show.

Although it’s a shame that he didn’t fight back. I mean, it’s not like he can fight back anyway. If his arms weren’t chained and bound behind his back, he still wouldn’t stand the chance. Barbatos is a weak Archon— nothing more than a wind spirit who loves to cosplay as the dead. How shameless.

Enjou stands at the foot of your bed. “Your Highness, are you headed off to bed now?” asks the Pyro Abyss Lector.

“I am, Enjou. Despite having the power of the Abyss Order coursing through my veins, I, unfortunately, still need to get some sleep,” You lament.

Enjou nods and bids you a goodnight before exiting your bedroom. You lay on your bed, pulling the blankets to your chin before drifting to sleep. Meanwhile, on Teyvat, flames continue to kiss every surface it nears. There’s not enough water in the world to extinguish the raging flames of the Abyss Order. Abyssal beasts and beings lurk in the corners of Teyvat, stalking their prey before striking when the victim least expects it.

“Where is Thoma?” Lord Ayato asks, walking through the Kamisato Estate, searching for the blond man.

The blond man pops up from the end of the hallway, waving to the Kamisato heir. “I’m right here, my Lord. Is there anything I can help you with?” Thoma asks, smiling at the blue-haired man.

The Kamisato Heir sighs in relief, glad to see his retainer amidst the chaos running amok on Teyvat. While the flames have yet to kiss the City of Eternity, the orange and red glow of the blazing fire illuminates the night sky. The smoke suffocates and buries the glimmering stars.

Ayaka peeks her head from the corner, curious. “Did something happen, big brother? You look… shaken,” Ayaka says cautiously, approaching her brother and blond retainer.

The head of the Kamisato clan looks over at Gorou and Heizou, who gulp and nod. Gorou lets out a shaky sigh, crossing his arms over his chest and looking at the ground. Due to the chaos running rampant on Teyvat, the death toll skyrockets.

“We have found several bodies of… familiar faces,” Gorou says, his voice shaking.

Heizou looks at the list of names. “Arataki Itto was found dead in Chinju Forest— his horns were ripped out of his skill and plunged into his eye sockets. Kaedehara Kazuha was found dead in the ocean. His death has been ruled by accidental drowning,” Heizou says, his hands shaking.

The lights in the Kamisato Estate flicker before plunging the five Inazumans into total darkness. Ayaka whimpers and stands close to her brother, grabbing onto his sleeves tightly. Two portals open in the center of the Kamisato Estate, and out comes the two Abyss Heralds. Everyone in the room draws out their weapons, backs pressed against each other, preparing to attack the Abyss Heralds. The first person to go is Thoma— the Cryo Abyss Herald throws shards of ice in Thoma’s direction, piercing him in the chest, neck, and head. Thoma’s body drops to the ground as Ayaka and Ayato let out a piercing scream.

The Hydro Abyss Herald slams the Kamisato Heir against the wall before slicing the heir in half at the torso. Gorou, Heizou, and Ayaka were soaked to the bone and frozen multiple times before ultimately dying of hypothermia and decapitation.

Just as the two Abyss Heralds return to the Abyss, the Cryo Abyss Herald grabs the head of the Kamisato Heir and tosses the head in the air.

“What are you doing with that? Leave it at the Estate,” the Hydro Abyss Herald says, irritated.

The Cyro Abyss Herald snorts. “I think Their Highness would appreciate us bringing back a souvenir from Inazuma,” the Cryo Abyss Herald retorts, stepping into the portal with the head of the Kamisato Heir.

“If we’re going to do that, we might as well return with all their heads,” groused the Hydro Abyss Herald.

The Cryo Abyss Herald stops halfway into the portal and turns around. “Oh? And what’s stopping you?”

In the Chasm, you stand before the Geo Archon, his face in your hands. His arms are bound behind his back. Enjou and Agnarr hold Zhongli by the biceps, watching the former Geo Archon fight against their grasps pathetically. You giggle and stroke his cheek with your thumb.

“Oh, Zhongli. What’s so bad about joining the Abyss Order, hmm?” You coo.

Zhongli is trying to fight back, but he can’t hold on any longer. Zhongli’s amber eyes slowly turn pitch black, black veins creeping up his face. Zhongli growls and thrashes around, only for Enjou to hit him in the back of his head to immobilize him.

You whisper, “Don’t fight it, Morax. Embrace the power of the Abyss Order coursing through your veins.”

Zhongli goes limp, breathing heavily. You take a step back and watch Zhongli curiously, head tilting to the side. Zhongli suddenly breaks out of Enjou and Agnarr’s grasp, charging at you like an angry Lawachurl. You remain still, waiting to see what the former Geo Archon is going to do. Enjou and Agnarr are about to attack Zhongli, but you hold your hand up, shaking your head. Enjou and Agnarr watch anxiously.

Zhongli stops before you, staring you down. His body is shaking, hands clenched at his sides. Zhongli’s polearm materializes in his hands. He raises the weapon in the air, and before you know it, Zhongli plunges the blade into his chest. You gasp in horror, watching the former Geo Archon sink the polearm further into his chest cavity, blood spurting out of his chest like a water fountain. Zhongli looks up at you, blood spilling out of his mouth as he smiles at you ruefully.

“I do not wish to harm you, [Y/N]. I would rather die than hurt you,” Zhongli coughs, falling to his knees.

You run toward Zhongli, only for Egill to hold you back. “Zhongli….” You whisper.

The ex-Archon coughs. “I’m sorry things have to turn out this way,” Zhongli rasps, closing his eyes.

You stare at Zhongli in disbelief before laughing weakly. You don’t know how to handle all of this. Zhongli claims that he chose to kill himself because he didn’t want to hurt you, but you don’t know if Zhongli’s telling the truth or if he’s trying to get you to crack. Enjou offers to dismember Zhongli’s limbs, but you protest against the idea of dismembering Zhongli. As much as you would love to scatter the remains of the former Geo Archon throughout Liyue, you decide not to do it. Instead, you have his corpse on display in your throne room. It, dare you say it, hurts you that you can’t give the deceased Geo Archon a proper burial. However, out of all the people you dealt with on Teyvat, the only person who deserves a proper burial is the former Geo Archon. Perhaps with Abyssal magic, you’ll find a way to preserve the deceased Archon’s body.

You step out of the gloomy palace of the Abyss Order, looking around the vast darkness. You have yet to return to Teyvat, but you don’t see the need to. You pinch your nose in disgust and turn to Egill, who’s levitating toward you.

“Perhaps the biggest mistake I have made is choosing to display the corpses of my enemies,” you sigh, shuddering with disgust.

Angry shouts grab your and Egill’s attention. You turn to see a black-haired Harbinger struggling against Klingsor’s iron grip. You and the black-haired Harbinger make eye contact, and he shouts for you.

“I betrayed everyone in the Fatui and helped you carry out your plans! This is what I get in return?!” shouts the Regrator, his eyes blazing with anger.

Klingsor levitates toward you and Egill, dragging the Regrator, also known as Pantalone, along. The black-haired Harbinger isn’t too pleased to find out his assistance will not spare him of his impending doom. Heck, everyone in Teyvat— at least, those with visions— have been slain. You stand before Pantalone, chuckling.

You grab Pantalone by the chin and tilt his head upward. “Out of all the Harbingers, you treat me the worst. You put a bounty over my head, offering up to almost two hundred million Mora. It’s comical to see you switch sides so fast after realizing the Abyss Order has taken over Teyvat,” you chortle.

You release Pantalone’s face and walk away. “Klingsor, you can do as you please with Pantalone. I have three prisoners to visit,” you say nonchalantly, waving your hands around.

Klingsor drags a screaming Pantalone away as you and Egill walk to the palace. Walking past the display, you tap on each head, humming contently.

“This place is really coming together, don’t you think? At first, I thought about having them hold their severed heads on their lap, but having their heads on stakes is way better,” you say, turning to Egill.

Egill clears his throat. “Your Highness, is it too late for me to inform you that two out of three of the prisoners have killed one another due to being driven to the point of insanity?” Egill asks, peeking at you.

You stop in your tracks and sigh. “Is that so? Darn, I was hoping to have them fight to the death in a ring,” you kick the nearest marble on the ground. “What about Dainsleif? Is he still alive?”

Egill doesn’t reply and leads you to the dungeon where Dainsleif was kept. Upon arriving at the jail cell, you stop in your tracks.

“Egill?” You keep your eyes on the jail cell, “Where is Dainsleif?” You ask through clenched jaws, now looking at the empty jail cell aside from the chunks of flesh and pool of blood on the concrete floor.

A portal opens before you, and Dainsleif lunges from the portal, tackling you to the ground. You glare up at Dainsleif. Dainsleif plunges a knife into your chest before crying out in pain. Dainsleif looks down to see a polearm impaling his chest. Dainsleif collapses on top of you as your vision becomes blurry. If this is how it ends for you, then so be it. At least you were able to watch the world burn. You close your eyes and prepare for your impending death, but it never arrives. You open your eyes to see Egill, Agnarr, and Enjou hovering over you.

“Did you really think we would let our Ruler die?” Enjou asks smugly, crossing his arms over his chest.

Agnarr helps you up and kicks Dainsleif’s body to the side. You place your hand over where Dainsleif stabbed you, only to see that the wound is gone. You point at Dainsleif and gesture for Egill to leave with the body. Egill bows and tosses Dainsleif’s body over his shoulders and walks off.

“How many times did we save your ass, Your Highness?” Enjou teases, nudging you with his elbow.

You roll your eyes and pinch the bridge of your nose. “Shut it, Enjou,” you grumble, walking out of the dungeon. “Make sure someone cleans up the mess in the cell.”

“Yes, Your Highness,” Agnarr and Enjou murmur, following you out of the dungeon.

Note: Now that I got this out of the way, I do have school coming up very soon. Because this is my final year in university, I really need to focus on school and do well so I can graduate on time. I am going to be on hiatus, meaning the Genshin and HSR isekai fics will be put on pause. I will try to post something every now and then, but I (and the isekai fanfics for both Genshin and HSR) will be on hiatus. Tbh, idk who reads the notes at the end of my fics, but I'll announce my hiatus separately very soon. Since school is starting soon, this will be the last time I post invite links to my Discord server, and I will not be giving out invite links after the link expires. If you want to join, you can click the temporary link to [Zhongli's Abode]. Anyway, to all my new and returning readers, keep in mind that I ONLY post on my Tumblr (Genshinluvr) and my AO3 (Aaliah_exo)! Nowhere else except Tumblr and AO3!

Taglist for my Isekai'd!Reader one-shot series and my overall taglist: @yoru-trash, @kaoyamamegami, @deartoru, @luminarymoonlight, @ins4nebish, @bokuto-kinnie, @exhaustedcommunist, @jadedist, @chalksdreams, @thelost-in-time, @ventisweetheart, @hispasian-otaku, @samarill, @testsubject0012, @kazuhaprnt, @lunarapple, @vinnie-w, @heyimkay, @eliciana, @jjvr4yxc, @sovermike-21-blog, @nightlysunn, @thelovebuggs, @urlocalheizousimp, @sunlightstarr, @asoulsreverie, @immahuman, @inapileofbooke,(Accounts that I was unable to tag have been removed. Those who don't want to be tagged in certain stories are not tagged in this particular post. Remember to check your settings to see if you're allowing people to mention you/tag you in posts or not)

Read more of my works on my Masterlist / Masterlist 2 | Maybe support me by tipping me on Ko-Fi or by reblogging my fanfics! ^^ I will also be posting exclusive fanfics on Ko-Fi as well very soon! I might post all of my stories on there too, but who knows. You can also tip me on Tumblr if you'd like as a way to show support! ^^

419 notes · View notes

clockwayswrites · 1 year

Text

A Broken Sort of Normal Part 4

WC: 439 Materpost CW: Mild Family Drama

Thankfully it wasn’t long before Danny could get home and take a hot shower. The casserole he’d taken out of the freezer was fine to go in the oven at that point, and he tossed it in as he finished drying off his hair. It was getting long again. He’d kept it a bit shorter since he’d started working and figured he’d be due for another cut soon. He grabbed his phone and sent a message to schedule it, or else he’d just put it off until it was unmanageable.

And then he was left staring at his phone.

Thinking about Jazz.

Maybe he should give her another call— another chance.

The phone was ringing before he had thought much about it.

“Danny?”

“Hi Jazz— Jasmine, sorry.”

“It’s fine, Danny,” she said, but Danny could hear the reprimand in her tone. “What going on?”

“I just…” Why was this so hard? “…wanted to call back? Our last call cut short and I didn’t get to tell you everything.”

“Lacey needed me.”

“That wasn’t— I wasn’t trying to say you shouldn’t have ended the call, I just thought I’d try again. I know you’re busy there. You’re still planning the baby shower, right? I’ve got some vacation—”

“Lacey and I talked, and we don’t think you should come,” Jazz said over him. “And not until the baby has been through all their major shots either. It’s just, you’re around disease a lot and we don’t want to take any chances. You get it, right?”

No, he really didn’t. He was emergency response. Jazz would know that if she ever listened to him.

“…Can I at least get the baby something? Do you have one of those list things?”

“It’s called a registry, Danny.”

Danny held back a sigh. He didn’t want this to end in a fight. “Okay, do you have a registry, Jasmine?”

“Of course we do. But we don’t expect you to get us anything off of it,” she said quickly. “We’ve picked out everything based on the latest research into cognitive development and reviews so nothing on it is… cheap.”

“I have a job.” This was going to be like the fight about his schooling all over again— where Jazz called his paramedical degree a trade school. Like there was something wrong with a trade school anyways. “Just send it through, okay? I’ll see whats on it and I won’t send anything that’s not. And I won’t try to visit.”

“Danny…”

“Give Lacey my best, I’ve got to go,” Danny said, hanging up before he could say the angry words that were bubbling up in his throat.

----- AN: So maybe I'm still not over my sil calling my masters of science a trade school. Though there is nothing wrong with a trade school at all and I'll fight anyone who says so. I honestly wished we had more of them in the US. But yep- I might have picked some of the less lovely traits of my sil and a friend to put into Jazz here. I'm not trying to bash her, I just think it would have been so easy for her to go this way if nothing ever came of her parent's research and she didn't have to adjust her world view to helping save her little brother's life nightly. And if all she saw in that little brother now was someone who supposedly didn't try and maybe resents for having to always be the Big Sister.

Danny could sure use some hugs though.

Due to the new post editor and being shadow banned, I no longer tag! You can subscribe to this post instead to be notified in the same way.

#dp x dc #though dc really isn't in this part #I said it was a one shot as long as it was one chapter #but man would this be a great place for a chapter break...#I'm my own worst enemy #quick death #abson

667 notes · View notes

supervillain-smut · 2 years

Text

How do the slashers react to orgasm denial?

You’ve managed to get the jump on them and successfully restrain them. How you did it, you don’t know, but now that you think about it, they’re kind of hot, and completely under your control… It’s your turn to torture them. Give them a taste of their own medicine, in your own special way.

(THIS WORK FEATURES NON-CON ELEMENTS (MOSTLY SLASHERS RECEIVING), CURSING, DUBIOUS CONSENT, AND ORGASM DELAY/DENIAL. 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!)

FEATURING: BO & VINCENT SINCLAIR, BRAHMS HEELSHIRE, BUBBA SAWYER, GHOSTFACE (GENERAL PERSONA, WHICHEVER YOU FANCY), DR. HANNIBAL LECTER (ANTHONY HOPKINS), MICHAEL MYERS, RUBEN “RUVIK” VICTORIANO, STEFANO VALENTINI, THOMAS “TOMMY” HEWITT, AND HARRY WARDEN/TOM HANNIGER

AO3 LINK

If you like this, please consider commenting and/or tagging, it helps a lot. Tipping is optional and helps support me as a creator, if you’d like me to continue these send an ask to my inbox, and commissions are open and pinned if you’d like something all for yourself!

Bo Sinclair: He’s at a loss for words.

“F…Fuck! Will you just lemme… Ahhh! God…”

The man who was just about to torture you in this dingy little basement, who’d seemed like such a sweet-talker only hours ago, could not form a complete sentence. The anger was still in his eyes, oh was it ever, but he’d given up on getting out around an hour ago and had only focused on convincing you to let him cum.

He wasn’t about to beg, oh no he was far too proud of that, but if he wasn’t going to before he is sure as shit he might now.

You could tell he was getting close again, the time it took was becoming shorter and shorter, as he leaned his head back, his breath came in short gasps, and his hips strained against the rope you had used to tie him down after he couldn’t stop bucking into your hand in a vain effort to reach completion.

He swallowed hard, his mouth dry from hanging open, panting, and attempting to talk for the last half hour, his voice beginning to sound hoarse. “Pl… GOD will you just let me cum? FUCK it hurts… Aaarrggh!!” He growled as you took your hand off his cock again.

“I don’t know. Maybe I should think about it.” Bo’s eyes widened in fear at your words, and he began to fight his restraints again desperately.

You walked away to the beginnings of his screams of threats, the last one fading in volume as you shut the door.

“DON’T YOU FUCKING WALK AWAY FROM ME! DON’T LEAVE ME LIKE THIS!!”

Brahms Heelshire: He begs.

You didn’t really have to restrain him at all. More like telling him to stay like a dog and he reacts like he’s bound. Even still, you’ve tied him to the headboard, and not once has he fought it. He’s been surprisingly good.

“I’ll be good, I promise!” He whines as he tries to buck his hips into your hand. “I won’t hurt you! I would never! I wanted to protect you! He hurt you!” He cried out as he let his head fall back into the pillows. You could see him swallow thickly and feel his hips still in an attempt to ‘be good’ for you.

You almost felt bad for the last four times he was close. Almost.

You stilled your hand again and heard him whine. He was almost pathetic with how easily he submitted to your demands, how he’d let you tie him up and tease him for this long, even though you could see it in his body that he wanted to fight back, to take control back, and yet he didn’t. Not once.

You watched him steady his breathing and pick his head up to look at you. You made the mistake of meeting his eyes; the biggest brown puppy dog eyes looked straight into the empathetic part of you. He was so patient, and he was being good… You resumed your pace, running your thumb over the head of his cock and he keened in return. His hips thrust forward just slightly, and you corrected him.

“Ah-ah! Be good and you can come. Don’t move.” He groaned, but still, you felt his hips stop.

You pressed just behind his balls and his back arched before he slammed back down onto the bed, remembering your order; he was really trying, you could tell. You felt him pulse and twitch in your hand, signaling he was close as precum oozed from the tip. You didn’t stop this time and watched as thin, watery jets of cum erupted from his cock, coating your hand and his stomach as he cried out again and again.

“Good boy, Brahms. Such a good boy.”

Bubba Sawyer: He’s obedient.

“So you’re going to be good, play nice, and help me out of this place, right?” You needed to make sure he was going to help you, but at this point, you were pretty sure he’d do anything, probably including chopping off his own hand just so he could come. You pressed your foot harder into his erection and he moaned, hanging his head as the ropes that bound his hands behind his back and around the metal pole took his weight.

He was drooling and bucking his hips into whatever touch you gave him. You knelt down and tipped his head up. His eyes pleaded with you. You slowly slid your hand up and down his shaft, and he began to hit his head on the pole in frustration. You quickly brought your free hand to the back of his head and did your best to stop him.

“Hey, hey! Don’t do that. I’ll let you come, and then you help me out of here, okay?” He met your eyes and nodded frequently and mumbling something you could never understand. “Okay, then.” You picked up the pace and he was breathing hard, his noises were getting louder and louder. Finally, he came, his sounds muffled in your hand covering his mouth, his cum blending in with the rest of the mess that covered his apron.

“There. Now, your end of the bargain.”

Ghostface: He screams for hours.

You needed earplugs or something. What started out as a good idea in your mind now that you had the bastard that had tried to kill you tied up in a chair and completely at your mercy had eventually turned into a goddamn banshee of threats and insults. He sounded like the one being murdered now.

“You fucking bitch! I’m going to kill you! I’m going to gut you like a fish and skip rope with your intestines!”

Yeah, you stopped having fun a while ago. Around the third time you didn’t let him come.

“You know what?!”

“What?!”

“You can fucking stay here and rot for all I care. I’m grabbing a drink from the store, and you get to stay here. Scream all you want, you’re caught red-handed by the security cams trying to kill me, and I stopped them before I started to have my fun, so as far as they know you were just some pervert that was trying to kill a defenseless person!”

Silence. For the first time in two hours, complete silence from both of you. He sat there and, what you assumed, was staring at you. You grabbed your bag from the floor and pulled on your shoes.

“Wait, where are you going?” You didn’t respond. “You’re not seriously leaving me here, are you?” You continued towards the door and opened it, turning to look at him. “You wouldn’t dare. You get back here!” You backed out of the doorway. “Don’t do it you little bitch!” You slammed the door. “GET THE FUCK BACK HERE!” He was muffled from down the hall and behind the door, but not by much. Man, that guy could scream.

Dr. Hannibal Lecter: He acts unfazed.

You had stopped him from coming four times now. You wouldn’t be able to tell by looking at him, the only evidence you’d even so much as started to have your way with him was the slightly red flush to his cheeks and the small beads of sweat on his forehead.

“How?” He lifts his head to look you in the eyes, his baby blues as stubborn as they were intrigued at what you’ll try next.

“How, what? Be specific, otherwise, I can’t answer the question.”

“How have you not gone crazy yet? Surely you want to come.”

He stayed silent for a moment before answering, looking you up and down. “Why? Would you have? Besides, if I admit what I want you’re just going to keep taking it from me. Best to keep you guessing whether that’s what I want or what my body wants.” You tilted your head in confusion.

“What’s the difference between what you or your body want?”

He smirked at you. “The difference, my dear, is that your body merely reacts to stimuli, meanwhile your consciousness and your wants make all the difference as to whether it truly affects you.”

You thought for a moment. “So you don’t want to come?” You smirk back at him, leaning into his game. “I didn’t say that. Then again… I didn’t say suggest anything to the contrary, merely stated a fact.”

As he was talking you began to stroke him again, running your thumb along the prominent vein on the underside of his cock. You finally noticed something you hadn’t before; he gasped when you did.

You paused everything. “Thank you for that fact, Doctor Lecter. It’s given me a great deal of insight.” It was his turn to tilt his head at you, as much as the hand truck dolly he was restrained to, as well as the mask to keep him from biting you, would allow him.

“You do want to come.” He stayed silent, but his eyes betrayed him.

“Clever girl.”

Michael Myers: He never stops trying to escape.

You had dodged death many times on Halloween night. Once by avoiding death via The Shape, otherwise known as Michael Myers, and about seven more times since you’d somehow, by some miracle, managed to restrain him. If you weren’t dead before, you’d absolutely be if he caught you. He hasn’t stopped struggling since he noticed he was trapped, wrapped up in extension cords and strapped to the table with his arms pinned at his sides.

You’d been taking advantage of this new and exhilarating scenario heavily, starting with merely feeling him up while you had the chance, then palming him through the mechanic's suit, until you were jerking him off and had even dared to deny him release. He was not happy about that. Not at all, given the amount of struggling he was really doing now.

You were hypnotized by every muscle, every muffled grunt of effort, frustration, and fury that escaped his lips that you couldn’t see, obscured by his iconic mask. You moved to take it off, and you could’ve sworn he’d nearly given himself whiplash with how hard he jerked his head away from you. He began to struggle again, and you leaned back in your chair, expecting it to be another fruitless endeavor of his. That was until his arm came shooting out toward you, stopping just before your face.

You launched out of the chair, unsure what to do; you couldn’t restrain him again. You thought too long about it, and by the time your mind had caught back up with reality, his hand was around your throat. Finally, as he brought his face centimeters away from yours, could you see his eyes. Something in them told you he wanted revenge. How he was going to get it was the terrifying part.

Ruben “Ruvik” Victoriano: He threatens.

“Let go of me. Now.”

That was how it started, anyway. His voice was as calm yet deadly as the sea. Now, however, it shook with desperation.

“Once I get out of this… I’m going to… Ahh! Fuck!” You started to stroke him just as he began another empty threat, staring him down as those icy blue eyes glared a hole straight through you.

“We both know you either won’t do anything, or you can’t do anything. If you could’ve, you would’ve by now. I’ve got you right where I want you, and there’s nothing you can do about it.” You spoke calmly as you stopped moving your hand, opting to instead circle the head of his cock with your thumb, watching as his chest rose and fell as he watched you, a moan rumbling from his throat. The gurney wasn’t the most ideal thing to strap him to, but unfortunately, the only thing you had.

“I can absolutely get out of this. This is my world. You’re in my world!” You raised your brow at his words, feeling his cock twitch, threatening you of its release.

You let go of his cock and walked away as Ruben gawked at you from the gurney.

“Alright then, get out. Or off.”

Stefano Valentini: He bargains.

“Oh, tesoro per favore non fermarti*!” Stefano whined from under you as you held the knife to his throat, pressed your knee harder into his chest, and stroked his cock at a fast and relentless pace, watching as his face scrunched up in pleasure. His mouth was agape, panting and pouring honeyed words in Italian as he gave in to your demands at knifepoint.

You had somehow managed to get his knife off of him and his camera lay forgotten, at least for now, a good five feet away from you both, unharmed. You had left him on the edge of euphoria three times now, and the view was incredible. He sat in front of you with his back pressed to the wall as you held him steady with his own blade, your knee pressed flat to his chest as if he needed any further reinforcement not to move, and your other hand was on his cock.

“You know, if you let me go I can really fuck you properly. I won’t lay a finger on you that you don’t want to be there, I swear.”

You couldn’t lie that his propositions weren’t making you incredibly wet; you wanted him, of that there was no doubt, but you did doubt if he’d hold up his end of the bargain. You considered his offer, slowing your pace, but hardening your grip on the knife. You had decided as you removed the knife from his throat, much to his delight evident in his eye, and you slid it across the floor far away from you both. He smiled earnestly at you, and then he was on you in a flash.

*Honey please don’t stop

Thomas "Tommy" Hewitt: He glares.

His body shudders violently and he groans as he nearly reaches his peak before you take your hand away and pull harder on the ropes tying him to the chair he had in the basement. You can’t look at him and those chocolate eyes filled with hate and murderous intent, solely for you. He hasn’t taken that gaze off of you since you managed to tie him up.

You let him sit for a little while before working his cock again, pulling an animalistic growl out of him as his hips desperately tried to thrust upwards into your hand, but his position wouldn’t allow him. You ran your thumb over the head, causing his head to fly back as he moaned hoarsely. Maybe if you stopped teasing him, he’d stop glaring at you like that.

That was your plan as you worked him over the edge, as he gasped and whined, jets of cum hitting his apron and oozing onto your hand as you gave him a few moments to catch his breath. Once his breathing had slowed back to normal did you lift your gaze to his. He was still glaring at you like a big cat in a cage, unrelenting in the slightest. You couldn’t let him go or he’d absolutely kill you, so you tied the ropes into knots behind him and began working on your escape.

Vincent Sinclair: He writhes.

He despised the fact that he was currently strapped down to his own bed, in his own workspace, with his twin brother just upstairs, completely unable to hear him, and completely unaware the person he was looking for was just below, torturing him. Vincent couldn’t help the way his body was reacting, begging for release as all he could do was let out hoarse moans and pleas. His hips desperately chased his release as you stilled your hand once again, causing him to throw his head back and arch his back as much as the restraints would allow him as he cried out.

His legs and arms were working desperately to free themselves, to no avail as you left him on the edge over and over again. He was beautiful, you had to admit; his one blue eye silently pleaded with you as his pitch-black hair lay sprawled on the bed, some strands stuck to his sweaty forehead as the heat of the basement and the heat building inside him proved too much, his mask was removed long ago when it had started to lose its form.

He attempted to buck up into your hand once again, and he wailed as you completely removed it, his body still writhing, although he was unsure why anymore. Was it to escape and end you, or a vain attempt to find some other way of release? He had all the time in the world to figure it out.

Harry Warden/Tom Hanniger: One hates it, the other loves it.

When Tom was in control, it was a consensual bit of fun, edging him until he couldn’t take it anymore and gave in. He loved those times with you, seeing how long he could last, sometimes beating his previous record, other times giving in much earlier. But when Harry was in control, when that mask was on and all you could hear was his heavy breathing, it was a whole different game, a whole other test.

Tonight was one of those nights. Instead of Tom coming home to you, Harry Warden stood at your doorway, had forced his way inside and onto you, still feeling the adrenaline of what seemed to be a fairly recent kill given the amount of blood that dripped from his pick, which he leaned against the door frame.

He had made it clear exactly what he wanted as he forced you onto your knees, but what he didn’t anticipate was your rebellious nature as you had seemingly obeyed, taking his cock into your mouth and eventually down your throat, until you felt him twitch, his breathing heavier than before, his right hand digging into the wall behind you as his left clenched into a ball at his side.

You could hear the gasp and groan that escaped him when you stopped completely with his cock down your throat, your hands on his hips to keep him from thrusting into your mouth. He stood there, eerily calm as you waited until his breathing slowed again before you returned to swallowing him.

This went on twice before he’d had enough, gripping your hair at the back of your head, pushing your hands away, and relentlessly fucking into your mouth, forcing himself down your throat until he came down it. He pulled himself out of your mouth as you gasped for air, and he gently wiped the tears that had fallen, before he roughly picked you up and threw you onto the couch; apparently, he wasn’t finished with you just yet.

2K notes · View notes

sugar-omi · 1 year

Text

cove nsfw alphabet

tags : ok for masc/fem/nb readers, some ideas for bottom cove <3

*edited to add-on to ‘L = Location’ & ‘K = Kink’ & 'C = Cum' & ‘X = X-ray’

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

super sweet. he hugs you n kisses you n its very sweet n soft n loving

will get you anything you want afterwards

will carry you to the bath if you ask

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

we already know cove likes your arms and chest/boobs canonically, but i think he would also like your back. doesn’t matter if you got muscles or not he loves it.

i think he likes his arms and chest. i feel like step 3 cove is very confident about how he looks shirtless and in step 4 if he has a muscular frame, i think he works out like that bc he loves how it makes him look n he KNOWS he looks good !!!

i also think he likes legs. he likes anklets n your foot/ankle is attached to a leg so therefore i think he likes your legs as well!! doesn’t matter if you have long legs or shorter legs, he loves them n wants you to crush him w said legs

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

he loves to cum on you or in you.

in the patreon moment, he seemed to really like you swallowing his cum and so therefore he does love to finish down your throat

but i also think he loves to finish inside you. ofc if you can get pregnant, he won’t until you either prevent it (birth control, surgery etc.) or are ready for kids

i also think he loves to cum ON you. specifically on your stomach- its not even about it being near your womb/vagina if you have one, he just loves it

please cum on him as well

if you squirt? perfect, just finish dw about the mess

his whole hand is wet from fingering you? his fingers are in his mouth & tongue licking his wet sticky palms, what's the prblm again?

if you accidently cum all over his face when he pulls back from sucking you off? that's okay he loves it <3

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

won’t pull out n cum on your chest unless you ask or he gets the idea to lick it off your chest or smth. so if you’re sucking him off n cum falls on your chest n you swipe it up, licking it off your finger... he dies <3

can't belive I almost forgot...

cove cums a lot. and the consistency is pretty normal, but a bit more runny

also taste isn't bad, cove is pretty healthy

i think he loves loves LOVES switching dominate roles with you.

it doesn’t matter who’s taking it, if hes on top and you flip him or do something to assert domiance he loves it

like in step 3 “happiness” moment where if you push cove to the bed, when cove flips you over so you’re on your back and he kisses n touches you n stuff... i think he loved flipping you over n taking control

he’s very shy so he won’t tell you this for a long time, in fact he may not tell you at all n you have to find out on your own

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

he is not experienced whatsoever. even if y’all don’t date until step 4 or after step 4 (if you imagine that), he just doesn’t really date and he definitely doesn’t sleep around

if he did date other people, he’d have maybe 1 other partner before you, max 2

i don’t think he’d be eager to have sex either so he might have experience fingering or smth but thats it

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

missionary. he wants to hold you, see you while you fall apart under him...

kneeling scissors, whether your leg is over his shoulder or smth he loves how deep he can go <3

guard, he loves having you elevated/your body propped on top of him

+ if you’re penetrating of him

missionary bc he wants to hold onto you. he is very needy in this position imo

prone bone. he wants to hide his face honestly but also it makes his insides feel so good <3

cowgirl. again he wants to hold you but also he wants to be somewhat dominate sometimes

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

its a mix. hes more serious than trying to be funny, but he gets nervous so he might make a funny sounding squeak or fumble in some way.

even when you’re older and hes more confident, its still light hearted n he might make a joke or smth if theres one to be made. not something knee-slapping hilarious but light hearted

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

carpet matches the drapes ofc!!! i think he keeps it trimmed as a teen, not really short but its definitely not long

step 4 n older though i think he keeps a tighter trim and probably shaves it at least once in his life

i also dont think his body hair grows that fast or gets unruly either

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

hes always romantic n loving, always going for kisses n holding you

even when hes turning your insides out he does it lovingly

if hes bottoming, its still the same maybe even more so. please give him kisses

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

doesn’t get off often even during/after step 4. maybe a little more often than before because he doesn’t feel self conscious about doing it anymore

he might get off once or twice a week

although i do think he can go awhile without getting off/having sex

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

praise him, please praise him <3

a little bit of pain

if you like degrading, at first he just cant do it at all. but by step 4 he can’t go further than occasionally calling you dirty/naughty and VERY rarely calling you a slut

although i think as he gets older he’d be more comfortable w degradation that isn’t calling you names (like saying youre needy or that youre so wet for him or that you’re making a mess of his/your clothes <3)

OVERSTIM & EDGING.

he loves when you edge him n make him wait to cum bc you wanna keep having your way w him <3

he would n will make you finish more than once, he loves tasting you

he has an oral fixation, idc how small he has one

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

the bed is obvious

but the couch is definitely second.

he definitely wouldn’t do anything besides kissing n a little groping in the kitchen/dining table, when things start to get touchy he does carry you to the nearest reasonable surface

hes a klutz, someone will get seasoning on them or hit by a spoon

loves doing it outside. ofc not if its public, but on the beach? oh yeah, PLEASE fuck him on the beach

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

whenever you wear anklets obviously; he knows you’re doing it because you either :

like them n wear em all the time, wearing it for a date, trying to tease him, or tryna get lucky

besides that though, i think he likes whenever you sit on his chest n act all flirty n touchy

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

absolutely won’t hit you harder than a few spanks

and don’t even bother asking abt anything harsher than that, hes not listening babe im sorry

also we already know anything that isn’t spit n cum is outta the question so don’t ask abt that either!

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

after the patreon dlc we already know hes a master w his mouth

i dont think he has a particular preference, but if he had to chose he’d give

but i also think he loves receiving. like if you edge him in the dlc he says he wants more n quite frankly i think its deeper than that being the only option left after giving him a handjob

he craves n loves feeling your mouth on him

ofc he won’t force you n if you don’t like it he won’t ask unless you offer

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

he usually keeps an inbetween pace

but if y’all are really hot n bothered though n cant keep your hands off each other, it is definitely faster n harder than usual, but if you prefer him to be more gentle than he does make you finish more than once <3

if you like it rough though, he definitely fucks you slow and deep on the usual.

+ if he is bottoming

the first time he bottoms, he prefers it slow n sensual

after awhile he wants it slow n deep but in the end he ends up wanting it more rough <3

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

if you’re both desperate, he’ll have a quickie

and if you’re both busy n have to go to work/school n won’t see each other until late, quick morning sex <33

definitely doesn’t do it often though, he wants to take time and be close with you n take care of each other properly

would n will give you oral at least bc yk i think he has a bit of an oral fixation 👁️👁️

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

okay lets just get this out the way: he doesn’t want anyone else in your bed or watching. im sorry my baby is just not a cuck

in the wedding dlc when he says “-Unless its me again for a second wedding.” he meant that shit

but having sex outside/in the car? only if no one is around and theres no chance of getting arrested or anything, he’d die of embarrassment n shame

now in a public place, like having a toy inside you or him, i don’t think he would. now if you were on a long drive together maybe a hidden vibrator

as long as the windows are up n our clothes stay on he’s okay <3

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

oh lord have mercy. he can go at least 3 rounds penetration wise n he will happily give you oral if you want to keep going/he needs a break

if you haven’t done it in awhile or youre edging him, hes more sensitive so he definitely finishes fast but otherwise i think he lasts a reasonable amount of time

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

hes so embarrassed to use toys the first time omg- if you have some and you tell him or he sees them, hes redder than usual n i think theres steam coming off his head...

but as time goes on n he gets older he uses them on himself too

when you move in together, if you have toys of your own he does use them on you and he loves it bc he can make you squirm n stuff this way

but also he wants you to get off on him from his cock, fingers, or mouth

when you’re older tho n have tried more stuff/he’s ready for more stuff, he uses toys on himself

i think vibes are his best friend, whether theyre on you or him is up to you but yes y’all own many of them

also nipple stuff.... thinking abt cove w his nipples pierced mm

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he usually isn’t a tease, but as he gets older he is such a tease

he’ll walk by n pinch your butt, make a dirty joke or otherwise subtle comment,

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

do i really need to tell you he’s loud?

he groans and moans loudly

he’ll especially whine if you’re penetrating him

definitely growls/lets out a growl type sound when he finishes

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

he won’t ask for it, but if you send nudes he loves it

also loves if you send videos

at first he doesn’t bring up video/phone sex but he does suggest it one day when you’re both needy for each other n are at a distance for work or school (if you dont bring it up first ofc)

he’s too embarrassed to do it on the phone at first, and y’all send videos back n forth n sext

the 2nd time though he texts you, asking you to call n you definitely have phone sex that day

i think he’d also get on the soonest plane and come see you bc he misses you in every way possible

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

above average

n im not just saying this bc the average is 5 to 5.5in

he’s at least 6 to 6.5 inches, not big but not little either

long AND GIRTHY

definitely a shower, i also feel like between his long legs n dick he has a hard time finding pants that aren’t baggy but arent tight n show his dick, unfortunate for him but fortunate for us!!! (please get him grey sweatpants)

also im thinking he has tattoos on his thighs... as he gets older he’ll get tattoos of his/your guys late fish

or your kids hand prints if ya have them

definitely gets something for his parents, just like “ily” their hand writing or a small flower they drew

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

i think his drive matches yours as you get older

but it's still high

even more so if you've been apart/busy, he just cant get enough of you

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he will fall asleep right after if you let him n neither of you need anything

unless the sheets are SOAKED, hes sleeping on the same sheets you did it on

you better ask him to run you a bath or smth otherwise he’ll ask why you’re changing the sheets n if he’s cuddly then you wont get it done and you will sleep on a naked bed

he does stay up for awhile and talk to you n stuff

#our life: beginnings & always #cove x reader #cove x mc #cove holden smut #cove holden x reader #cove holden #cove holden x reader smut #cove holden x mc smut #smut

647 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 2 months

Text

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Nine (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Series summary: Together, you and Santiago have been “soldiers” then “friends” then “lovers”; but will you ever figure out what comes next, especially when Santiago can’t (or won’t) stop running?

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here. Please note this series is 18+. Minors or ageless blogs interacting will be blocked.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: Shorter chapter this week (be warned, next week's will be the heftiest yet), but I hope you like this next instalment! It's really gearing us up for the FINAL TWO! As always, I would be super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way. If you've read this far, THANK YOU! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.8k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Today is a new day. It’s a new day and you’re done crying. You’re done holding on to anger and resentments.

Besides, you feel as though you gave Santiago everything you had last night, and - at least for now - there is nothing else left to give.

So, instead of wallowing, you plod downstairs to where Frankie is stationed in the kitchen, offering up your favourite pastries, coffee, and even pulpy, freshly squeezed orange juice. You pull up to the breakfast bar, hopping up on a stool to survey your extravagant pity platter.

It’s true then. “He’s gone.”

Frankie nods solemnly, leaning into the other side of the island like he’s a sympathetic bartender in some old Western flick. He claps his palm to your shoulder in a supportive gesture. “I’m sorry, chiquita.”

You shrug.

His face twists. That’s not all there is. “Don’t shoot the messenger, but…”

“What, Frankie?”

“He had to bounce but he didn’t want to wake you. Said you looked far too peaceful sleeping for him to come along and fuck that up.”

Your brow notches, absorbing all of that with a contrived neutrality. “How did he… seem?”

Frankie’s eyebrows raise lightly as he ponders, thinking back over prior events. “Calm, actually. Happy, even.”

“Hmm.” You smile softly to yourself. Makes a change from lately to hear that. You get it though. After last night, you can’t feel anything else either. Even if he technically didn’t say goodbye in words, you get it. You aren’t mad. Chances are one or both of you would have fucked it up this morning. This way at least, it leaves the night you spent together untarnished. Makes it feel like holding on to a good dream, before the realities of the day can set in and make things fraught.

Frankie’s face crumples with concern as you gaze wistfully into the middle-distance. “You gonna be alright?”

You pump your eyebrows. Search yourself for feelings. “You know what? Yeah. I am. I’m okay.”

Frankie’s eyes glint playfully then. “Oh. So you won’t need alllll o’ these yummy pastries?”

You laugh as he eyes the pain au chocolat pointedly. “Get stuck in, Morales,” you invite fondly, and he obliges, scraping up a stool and wiggling on his ass until he’s comfy.

“Hey. So,” he says through mouthfuls. “Did you two figure anything out?”

You groan at the sheer complexity of Frankie’s simple question. Did you? Or are you still going around in circles? “We know we love each other. The rest? Uh. I still don’t know.”

“He’ll get there.”

You puff air out from between your teeth.

“You don’t think so?” Frankie interprets.

You wrap your arms around your middle. “It’s not that. It’s… I don’t think it was all on him.” You don’t have any blame or accusations left. No grudges to hold on to - your hands are open. You’ve both made mistakes. Manufactured this distance, in your own ways - sometimes literally, sometimes not. You were both just trying to figure all this out as best as you could.

Frankie’s brows notch and rise with a silent question. How so? What do you mean?

The thoughts form as you speak them. Clumsy yet intrepid. “I guess... It just feels like we were… Both waiting for the other person to get somewhere, you know? But this whole time, we should’ve been heading there together. Otherwise, how the fuck were we supposed to know where to end up?” You slide a palm over your face. “Christ. Does that make any fucking sense?”

Frankie ponders. “I think so. Like trying to meet on the highway without a time or a place or directions?”

You reach out and clasp his hand. “You get me, buddy.”

Frankie blinks, tangling himself up further in your metaphor, but valiantly trying to muddle through. “And so… do you…?” He scratches his chaotic mop of hair. “Do you have a map now? A meeting point? I mean… What happens next? On the highway?” Your mouth lilts into a gentle smile at Frankie’s earnest question. He notes and feeds your amusement, going off the deep-end with this metaphor now. “Are you driving in shifts, chiquita? Grabbing cheez-its for the road?”

You laugh, the musical sound mingling with Frankie’s throaty chuckle. “What happens next?” You repeat the question out loud, carefully, posing it to yourself. Hasn’t that always been the question? However, the very sentiment which used to scare you now feels a lot more like potential. Like possibility.

Still, you feel -for the moment- like leaving that question hanging. You leave a pregnant pause. You let it breathe.

For now; you let it go. You let him go.

“Where are the other guys at, anyway?”

Frankie rides your tangent with ease. “Packing shit up.”

“We should help them.”

“Yeah, we should,” Frankie grins mischievously, and yet neither of you make any effort whatsoever to mobilise.

Instead, Frankie pours you a cup of coffee from the pot.

“You wanna call off the hike today?” he asks hopefully, Frankie increasingly a creature of comfort.

“No. Hell no. I need to move.” You lock your fingers and stretch your arms above your head, a satisfying stretch extending down your spine.

Frankie’s eyes sparkle across at you. “Just not in aid of helping the Millers pack their trunk, huh?”

“Exactly! What did I tell you, bud. You get me.”

You do though. You need to move. You need to move forward. No more standing in place. No more moving in circles, always repeating.

Still, when you think about it. When you think to what is ahead, to what is next, your stomach drops. You feel overcome by a sudden anxiety which you can’t place at first. Like having misplaced something dear to you. Like having done something wrong but not being able to recall exactly what. Then, all of a sudden, you understand it entirely.

“Listen. Tell me about this job, Frankie.”

He immediately tenses up. “What job?”

You take a bite of your pastry. “The one with Lorea’s cash house.”

Frankie simply groans. He always knows more than he lets on, this one. About everything. Everyone.

“Is it true? That you and the boys are in?”

You can plainly see his reticence to respond. But you know for a fact that he’s about to cave.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“They need a pilot,” Frankie states, looking up at you with guilty, puppy dog eyes.

“Fuck me. He dragged you back in too, huh? You know… Sometimes I wonder if any of us are good for each other.” Your tone grows mildly irate, your heart quickening, but you recognise it for what it is. It’s simply anger veiling worry. You love these boys.

“Come on, don’t say that,” Frankie bargains. “We’ve dragged each other out of hell.”

“And back again.”

Frankie takes a deep breath. His tongue pokes around the meat of his cheek. “He says it’s simple recon. In and out. No mess.”

You jut your chin up. Stare at him levelly, unblinking. You know that Frankie will give it to you straight. Know that he can’t help himself. “And you buy that?”

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

“Not for a fucking second.”

You scoff, shaking your head. Not when it comes from Santiago, no. After all, you’ve fallen for Santiago’s bullshit plenty of times yourself. It’s the fact that Frankie would wander in with his eyes wide open to it that really gets you. It’s something else.

Still, before you can chastise him for being so stupid, Frankie glumly offers up some explanation. “Look. I need the job. I… I got my license revoked.”

Your heart drops - and your face with it. Your hands clamp over your mouth. “Frankie,” you say softly, with empathy. “Fuck.”

He hunches in on himself despondently, his hands disappearing up his sleeves, his fists clenching and his gaze cast downward. “I fucked up, man. Cassie has a baby on the way and I fucked up.” His eyes swim with a deep shame.

“Coke?” you venture, tentatively.

5, 4, 3, 2, 1.

Slowly, he nods.

“Frankie.” Your hand swipes over your face, and your eyes fill with concern for him. His palm waves in the air, however, quickly dismissing any sympathies you may care to bestow.

“I’m back on track. Getting there. I am.” His eyes are nothing but determined. Sincere. “But I need this gig. No matter how fucking hare-brained a scheme that pendejo is cooking.”

“Think of the baby, dude.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing,” Frankie says forcefully, in a harsh tone he rarely uses, and you know in no uncertain terms that the conversation is done. That he’s made his mind up, and that he won’t hear you out any further on the matter.

You swallow. Regroup. You chew on some platitudes, but none of them feel quite right.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Frankie says after a stretched, tense moment. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

“It’s okay,” you jostle his shoulder, and it shakes a little of the tension from him and the room. “I get it. And shit. I’m sorry for putting all of my bullshit on you this weekend. I wish you’d said something, Cat.”

He shrugs. Speaks with finality. “There’s not much to say. It’s done. I just need to make it right. And I will.”

“I believe it. But you do know that I’m… If you need… Anything, Frankie.”

He looks up at you then, the warmth back in his eyes as your voice cracks, searching for the words. But, he already knows everything you could ever say. You’ve said it before, a hundred times. He knows you love him. Knows you’re proud of him. Knows you’d do anything for him. Knows you want the best for him. He knows it already.

In turn, you are sure that he already knows everything you could possibly call him out on. That he’s already thought about it. Weighed it up. Thought about the risks. About the possibility that he’s acting out of desperation. The possibility that he’d probably be better off staying the hell away from Pope’s schemes.

He scrapes his stool back and comes to you, bundling you into a tight, warm, big brother hug. You tug in a deep breath, and you let it go. You’re done trying to control everything around you. It never really got you anywhere.

Still, there’s an undeniably uncomfortable knot in your chest as you think about them all gearing up. Strapping on their tac vests. Shoving clotting pads into their med packs. It makes you feel physically ill. And so, you can’t help yourself. “Do me a favour, Frankie? Don’t take Tom?” You muffle the words into his shirt, half hoping they will get lost there. That maybe he didn’t even hear you. But, you know when he braces his hands on your shoulders to get a good look at you, that your game is up.

“Why not?”

You see it then, in his eyes. That Tom is not a risk Frankie has considered. His presence not something he has weighed up.

You deliver your words as plainly and transparently as possible. “He’s too hungry, Cat.”

Frankie simply locks eyes with you, as though trying to weed out your motives. Shrewdly trying to assess your conclusions. Is this just your petty vendetta talking? Is this intelligence? Is this coming from your gut?

“Please. Just trust me.”

“I do,” he nods eventually, but you should know better than to feel any relief. And next, there it is. “I do but it’s not my call.”

Well. You’ve said your piece. You guess that’s all you’ve got. Absent-mindedly, you tug on Frankie’s lapels. “You’d better come back to me, Cat,” you plead plaintively. “And by God, you’d better bring those other fuckers back with you to boot.”

With a wistful affection, Frankie tugs you to him again and you stand there in silence for a few more moments, the sounds of the other guys evident in the background. In time, you and Frankie release each other and gravitate towards them, tucking yourselves under the porch to survey their efforts packing up the trucks.

“We should probably help,” you repeat again, and, to your side, your hear Frankie’s murmur of agreement. However, when you glance to him you see his long, lean frame stretched out up against the wooden porch post. He looks like a man with nowhere else to be in a hurry.

“Fuck,” he curses at nothing in particular, surveying the animated bodies of his buddies before him with both awe and trepidation. “How did we get here? Years of service and none of us have anything to show for it.”

That’s a Santiago sales pitch, through and through, you reckon. You recognise his propaganda. Funny, since he used to swallow the flag for breakfast. Is that how he got to him then? Convinced Frankie he could finally make bank? Take what he deserved? Ah. Or give his family what they deserved? Frankie is all about family.

A sad smile twitches your mouth. “Well. That’s not entirely true, is it? Not nothing.” You think of what you’ve gained from all of this. “I got a gaggle of weird ass brothers. A suitcase full of trauma. A fucked back. And! An array of unhealthy coping mechanisms.”

Despite the darkness of your statement, Frankie’s eyes crinkle. What else is left to do but laugh, anyway? “Maybe Will should put that in his speech.”

You belly chuckle at that, moving to lean up against the opposite post. “Yeah. Scare those poor recruits off before they can end up like us, huh?”

Frankie looks wistful again. “It hasn’t been all bad.”

No. It hasn’t. He’s not wrong about that.

You ponder on it. If you could go back and change your path - would you? But, despite everything, your squad would be far too much to lose. “Sure. The weird thing is, as shitty as it’s been at times? I wouldn’t change it for the world.”

There is a beat, and Frankie reaches out across the space between you and wordlessly clasps your hand.

“Listen. You gonna be okay, Frankie?” He looks down at his worn sneakers, contemplatively, as though he really doesn’t know the answer yet. You give his hand a squeeze, trying to let him know that’s okay. “We’ll talk more, okay?”

He nods - a subtle, concessionary thing, like maybe he could really do with that.

“I get why you didn’t tell me. But I’m sorry. That I didn’t do a better job of asking.”

“It’s not on you,” he says generously. A little too generously, in your estimation. You’ve been rather wrapped up in your own shit. A little too self-involved. “I know I can talk to you. I just… I, uh. Didn’t want to ruin the weekend.” The irony of that statement causes a throaty chuckle to bounce in Frankie’s neck, and your palm slides over your face in regret even as you laugh in reciprocity.

“Christ. I did a great job of that all by myself.”

“Well,” Frankie says good-naturedly, shifting to bump your hip with his. Wrapping his crooked arm over your shoulder. “You had some help.”

It is your turn now to look wistful, as you contemplate the storm that is Santiago, and all the rubble he left behind. “He’s really gone again.” Frankie simply squeezes you a little tighter. “Hey. Anything else I should know, by the way?” you needle. “You’re not holding out on me?”

Frankie sucks air through his teeth. “Tom and Molly. She finally served him papers.”

You fold forward, hinging to collapse your upper half onto the porch rail. “Fuck. Shit. I really need to start being nicer to that shithead.” Still, from behind, Frankie’s familiar chuckle buoys you, even as you inwardly berate yourself for getting wrapped up in your own business. “We’re all messes, huh, Frankie? Do you think we can fix it?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I do.”

“Truly?”

“Truly.”

You toss him a soft, grateful smile, which extends as Will makes his way over to your position, greeting you “Hey, slackers!”. You and Frankie share a conspiratorial glance.

“All set for the hike, Captain?”

“No thanks to you.”

“I had an alternate mission. Ranks of pastries to deplete.”

Will feigns tiredness, but his baby blues sparkle even as he rolls them.

“Anyway. Didn’t need you. All set to head out as soon as you slackers get your act together. You wantin’ to do the usual route, hon?”

You brace your arms against the porch rail. Dig your fingers into the wood. “No,” you say, the words a little tight in your chest, but they feel good. “Not today. There’s somewhere else. Somewhere I always wanted to go.”

Somewhere new.

“Fine by me,” Frankie offers. “Just let me grab more pastries.”

***

You relish the hike, when it comes. You relish walking a path that is -to you- entirely untrodden. That he can’t touch. You walked the old, familiar trails for too long, and the only place it ever got you was right back where you started.

The bullshit ends here. You’ve decided.

And so, you turn your attention away from your sun, and to the wider constellation of stars around you. To yourself.

You even do your best to make peace with Tom. To put old grudges to bed.

You relish the hike. Enjoy the undulating landscape. You don’t know for sure what’s next, or where you’re going, but the difference is that for once, that feels okay. Full of potential.

You walk until your legs burn, and when you get to the summit you take a moment to drink in the crisp, clifftop air. To look out across the ocean. To see it from a distance and to know that this time, it cannot break you over and over and over.

Still, when you’re at the top, as if by providence, Santiago texts you.

“Hey. Sorry I had to take off early. I wanna say… Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For the best night of my life.”

“Ah. Fuck it,” you whisper to yourself, and you press the button to call him. You immediately call him. He immediately picks up. “Hi.”

”Hi. What’s up? They just announced my gate.”

”That’s okay, I’ll be quick. I, uh. I just needed to tell you too. Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For a proper goodbye.”

“Look, I’m sorry that I-”

“-I’m not mad, Santi. I think… I think we said everything we have to say, right? I think it was…”

”…Perfect?”

”Yeah. Yeah, pretty perfect.”

“Listen. It’s selfish, but. With everything coming up. The Lorea job and… I needed it, you know? Needed that image of you sleeping.”

There’s an ache in your chest and it’s bittersweet.

He cares for you in every way he knows how, doesn’t he? In every way he can. He’s not perfect, but hey, neither are you. You’re both a little bit broken, but that doesn’t mean you can’t heal. And most of all, it doesn’t mean you don’t deserve love while you’re doing it.

One day, he’ll turn up at your door, and he’ll be welcome. Whenever that is. Whenever it happens. But until then, you can’t just wait for him.

Until then, you’ll love him; from a distance.

No longer can you leave him in anger. No longer can he break you.

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Maybe one day, that will even be enough.

“Would you promise me something?”

“Sure.”

“Come back and visit soon, huh?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I promise.”

You conclude the call, and you stretch your arms above your head. A pleasant tingle snakes down your back as it cracks. You haven’t felt so relaxed in a long time. You don’t think you’ve ever felt such peace.

The path that you are walking is yours, and you implicitly trust where it’s taking you.

***

You are grateful to slip into the passenger side of Frankie’s car, beginning the drive back to the city and signalling the end of your stay at the beach house. Still, there is something bittersweet there too as you leave behind the site of so many memories from over the years - and now, the site of your most perfect night with Santiago.

It reminds you of all you’ve been through. The ups and the downs and plenty of things which went sideways. You are starting to realise though, that perhaps the landscape of love is undulating. That sometimes the terrain is tough. It shouldn’t have been quite so tough though - so steep and unforgiving; and so, you hope for gentler, easier paths ahead.

It is bittersweet then, as you leave this place behind.

As you look forward, having said goodbye. As you wrestle with your past, future, and present.

Frankie swings the car out and onto the highway, the Millers up ahead and Tom behind, your vehicles forming a convoy through the dark, the glow of headlights illuminating the route ahead.

You sit in silence, eyes and thoughts unfocussed, in abstraction, as you watch vague shapes and colours slipping by the window, your own face occasionally reflected right back at you. You look older than you used to. More tired. But you don’t dislike that.

After a while, Frankie’s robust voice slices through the dark, his eyes on the road and hands threading the wheel. “I don’t know if this will make things better or worse but… Do you want to hear it?”

You swivel your head towards him, fractured, liquid panels of light slipping over the planes of his face as your surroundings pass by in a haze. “Hear what?”

“Pope’s heartbreak playlist?”

Your hands dig into your thighs where they rest. “Do I?”

“Well?” Frankie asks, his finger poised over the button, and evidently not willing to make that decision for you.

“Yeah. Fuck it.”

You brace a little, in all honesty. A tightness takes hold of your chest as you wonder if the first track to befall your ears might be angry. Resentful. Full of blame or sadness that you can’t hope to wrestle with and come out on top. But, as the first notes of the track sound out, you are surprised to find a full, unfettered laugh rises from out of your throat. The tears swell in your eyes next, for it is nothing if not bittersweet.

“That dickhead. I can’t believe…”

You can’t believe it. The fact he has chosen a song which reflects your life together? Which reveals a happy memory?

He loves you, doesn’t he? He has for a long time. And you can’t help but hope that maybe one day, that will even be enough. For tonight though, it will definitely do. You’ll take it. You’ll treasure it.

“Whiskey in the Jar,” Frankie scoffs as he catches on to the song, even if his fingers are drumming against the lip of the wheel involuntarily. “I mean. What the shit’s that all about? He’s a weird kid, I swear.”

“Frankie,” you laugh brightly, turning once again to look wistfully out of the window, as the view of the beach house and the ocean recedes into the distance. You catch another glimpse of yourself in the pane, and this time you look younger, you think. More alive. “Did I ever tell you about that night in Philadelphia?”

#santiago pope garcia x reader #triple frontier #oscar isaac #ride or die series

87 notes · View notes

r3starttt · 5 months

Text

Modern gf! Dina hc’s

a/n: we need more sruff about dina :(

- definitely has a vape

- gets high probably a little bit more then she should

- Is horny all the time ofc but specifically when high

- Make out sessions that end in having rough sex and scissoring

- Very touchy, loves holding you from the waist and holding hands all the time

- Likes cuddling ofc. Big spoon idc. Always gives you neck kisses because she loves them so much due to the proximity of it, she also gets to smell you scent (loves your perfume) and her hands always end up all over you’d body.

- Has twitter Instagram and tik tok and she’s on her phone a lot. Throws hate in twitter, posts a lot on Instagram and lives on tik tok

- Likes all of your posts, all of them. Her comments are either sarcastic and with lots of emojis or a simple with some hearts

- Very open minded, straightforward and no tabúes for her so if she wants to try something new with you she’ll always let you know and wouldn’t waste a minute if you give her permission to do whatever she wants to try.

- Prefers calls than texting

- Loves gossip, always knows what’s going on and will tell you everything about famous people that’s involved in some new polemic

- Follows a lot of people in every social media

- Loves Pinterest :)

- Her clothes are pretty feminine however she tries all styles

- Even though she experiments a lot with her clothes she still loves wearing jeans lol. Her non defined style is jeans and sweater combo with an oversized jacket.

- Wears a lot of accessories. Has a lot of rings and exchanges them with you. Also, she likes matching jewelry.

- Insists a lot on going shopping with you, she loves buying similar things to you and helping you to choose makeup.

- She always talks about how much she wants to live with you in a farmhouse away from everyone, with tons of cats and a baby whose name she always changes. U-hauling, that’s it.

- Likes to watch a show with you but it takes ages because she ends up falling asleep every time

- Her phone case is all crusty but refused to change it bcs you were the one that gifted it to her

- Likes handmade gifts

- Loves pet names, no shame. Mostly calls you babe.

- Always complimenting you. She’s an ass girl so, no matter the place, she’ll always find a way to tell you how much she loves it and how good it looks.

- Takes a lot of pictures of you and ofcs always posts them everywhere

- Is good at cooking so she definitely spoils you a lot with food. She’ll learn your favorite recipes and cook them for you.

- Knows when you’re sad or mad and will always find a way to make you feel better, even if she’s busy she’ll always find a way to be there with you

- Does skin care and makes you do it as well, no matter what.

- Her feed is full of queer influencers, cats and motivational stuff.

- Sends you a lot of memes with random texts, sends you loads of tik tok videos and tags you on them as well.

- Very cheesy but won’t accept it

- Defined journals, she writes a lot about you without realizing and has every receipt, ticket, etc from all your dates :(

- Whenever you fight she tries to talk as much as possible with you instead of just screaming and getting mad. However if you got waaaaayyy to mad she’ll apologize immediately. If she’s the one mad she’ll let you know what you did and ask you to apologize

- She’s super careful and sweet when apologizing BUT ofc she also does it with sex duh (she knows you won’t deny)

—————————

This turned out shorter than I wanted, sorry 🫠

#i love dina sm #dina aesthetic #dina nolastname #dina the last of us #dina tlou #dina woodward #ellie x dina #dina fluff #dina smut #lesbian #shappic #wlw post #wlw #wlw ns/fw

94 notes · View notes

bwabys-scenarios · 10 months

Text

Reunited

Part 30

Illumi x Reader x Feitan

part 29

part 31

taglist: @tsukilover11 @mercyboluthecrazychicken @sxyriii @shidoni-san @living4tomrua @lemonslut @honeylunalove @sugarrushdaydream @canthebest1 @whorermoviestar @fabitheraven @ashdownunderscorebeloved @astresoleil @ranzxki @smuttysammie22 @yandere-enthusiast

if you’d like to be ADDED to the taglist, please comment a red heart ❤️, make sure you’re able to be tagged/mentioned, and have your age in your bio(IF YOU ARE ALREADY ON THE TAGLIST, YOU DON’T NEED TO ASK TO BE ADDED AGAIN!!)

warnings: suggestive, also uvogin is his own warning

PRESENT TIME

She clapped her hands together, smiling down at the man. “Let’s go on a date, then!”

Feitan stared at the girl, wondering if she realized what she had just said.

“… date?”

She nodded. “Yes, a date! It’ll be a lot of fun!”

He set his fork down. “(Name). Do you know what you’re saying?”

She tilted her head. Feitan knew she could say weird things sometimes, not completely understanding what she actually meant.

“Yeah? We can walk around town, shop a little, and have lunch together!”

Feitan rubbed his temple. “(Name).”

He leaned forward, just inches away from her face.

“If date, won’t end very… friendly.”

Feitan eyed her lips for a moment, before pulling back. (Name) stared at him confused, her cheeks heating up.

“But… friends can go on dates too!”

Feitan hummed. “We can if you want, but us going on date means I get to kiss you, touch you.”

“Fei.”

He glanced at her face, his eyes softening. She was blushing, her eyebrows furrowed.

“I don’t like being teased.”

He laughed and pinched her cheek. “Who said it’s teasing? Silly girl.”

Her mouth dropped open, her hands swatting at his hands. “What?”

He snickered, pushing himself out of his chair. “Joking. Go get ready, we leave in 10.”

——————

(Name) walked out of her room in a pair of jeans and tshirt. Feitan had just put on the coat he always wore, waiting by the door for her.

“Take forever to get dressed,” he grumbled. She folded her arms over her chest, giving him a pout.

“Well I didn’t know if I wanted to wear jeans or a skirt. But it’s cold today, so I chose jeans.”

Feitan raised an eyebrow. “Could just wear my coat if cold.”

“Fei, you coat would NOT fit me.”

He shrugged. “Steal you jacket.”

“Don’t steal on my behalf, Fei. We don’t need a repeat of the McDonald’s incident.”

“I thought it was a success.”

“You threw me out of a window!”

“Too slow.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t respond fast enough at you throwing a burger in my face and screaming ‘RUN!’. I was banned from that location. They have a picture of our faces on the front window!!”

He rolled his eyes. “Baby.”

She let out a sigh and grabbed her purse. “Let’s go. I want to try and check out the market before it gets too crowded!”

The two left her apartment, Feitan following behind her. It had been a year since he’d last seen her, so he wanted to take in every detail of her appearance.

She wore a different pair of sneakers than she had before. He already knew this, she’d texted him whining about her old ones being too worn out to wear anymore, but it was different in person.

All the little differences in her appearance were noted in his mind. The little scratches on her legs, her hair a little longer/shorter than it had been before, and a change in her aura.

She knew nen now, her aura controlled around her instead of steadily leaking from her body. He felt… conflicted. He didn’t know if he should be proud of her progress or worried.

(Name) hadn’t told him what her nen ability was yet, and he wouldn’t ask. That was dangerous, sensitive information. He wouldn’t blame her for not wanting to tell him, he wouldn’t tell her his.

“Fei?”

He was pulled from his thoughts by (Name) waving a hand in front of his face.

“What?”

She gestured around them. “We’re here!”

The crowd was already huge, (Name) holding onto Feitan’s arm to keep from being trampled. People seemed to give Feitan a good amount of space due to his intimidating aura.

“Fei, what do you want to look at first? Oh my gosh!”

She didn’t let him answer, dragging him to a stall selling accessories and makeup. Feitan watched as she browsed the wares, her eyes settling on a silver bracelet.

It was simple, with a bunny charm hanging from it. Feitan could picture it on her wrist, of course she would be drawn to something so cute.

“Ma’am, how much is this?”

The woman behind the booth smiled, tilting the box containing the bracelet to the side so she could see.

“It’s 30,000 jenny!”

‘30,000!? That’s enough to pay for all my monthly bills…’

(Name) looked for a moment longer before sighing and walking to the next booth.

“I didn’t think everything would be so expensive…”

(Name) sulked on the side of the road, crouched down and poking at the dirt with a stick.

“Should’ve let me steal for you.”

Feitan leaned against the wall of a nearby building, watching her as people passed by.

“They’re small businesses, that wouldn’t be right.”

The man scoffed. “Some aren’t, like jewelry place. Obviously steals goods and spikes up the price.”

He could recognize it, as Chrollo did the same thing.

“Well… I don’t want to be the reason you steal, anyways.”

Feitan scowled. “Why you even care? I steal all the time. Easy.”

She poked her lip out in a pout. “I don’t care if you steal. I just don’t want to be the reason you get in trouble, or god forbid hurt.”

She glanced at him, smiling softly. “You’re important to me. I won’t tell you what to do with your life, I know you’re strong. Just… just…”

Feitan placed a hand on her head, rubbing it. His touch was rough, but (Name) leaned into it anyways.

“Sensitive. Fine, won’t steal for you.”

He helped her to her feet, leading her by the hand away from the market and to the department stores.

“Tourist trap. Let’s shop there instead.”

———————

“Fei.”

He looked up from browsing the lingerie section to see (Name), a few items of clothing over her shoulder.

“Can you come in the changing room in a minute to zip me up? I need a nice dress, and the only one in my size has a zipper.”

He stared at her for a moment.

“… sure?”

She sighed out in relief. “Thanks!”

He followed her and waited outside the dressing room as he listened to the sound of her clothes dropping onto the floor.

‘Does she enjoy getting me riled up?’

He folded his arms over his chest, only moving when he heard (Name) call for him through the cracked door.

(Name) stood in front of him, wearing a floor length lilac colored dress.

“Does it look okay? God I hope it fits…”

It took him a minute to answer, his gaze focused on her boobs squishing against soft fabric.

“Looks… good.”

“Thank you. The zipper is back here.”

She turned, revealing her bare back to him. Had she taken off her bra, or had she not worn one at all? He didn’t know and didn’t care.

‘Focus. Just zip her up.’

He stepped forward and ran his hand along her back, sending a shiver up her spine. Feitan smirked at her reaction, reaching out to pull the fabric together.

He began zipping her up, but at the middle of her back it stopped.

“Feitan? Is something wrong?”

He tsked, attempting to zip her up again to no avail. “Won’t zip.”

(Name) sighed, letting go of her dress. “Oh… I wonder if I…”

She sucked in, but Feitan shook his head. “Not stomach, this.”

He couldn’t help but grin when he reached up and cupped her chest, squeezing the soft flesh of her boobs.

Her reaction was delayed, the girl seemingly in disbelief. When she regained her composure, she smacked his hands away.

“Feitan, you perv! Why-“

He cut her off by wrapping his hands around her waist and pulling her flush against him.

“Shh. Overreacting.”

She squirmed in his grip, her face heating up. “Feitan, wh-“

He let her go suddenly, giving her an innocent look.

“Look.”

(Name) blinked, looking at herself in the mirror. From her position, she could see that her dress was now zipped up.

“Wait… how-“

“Squished them down so I could zip it up.”

(Name) covered her face. “Oh Fei, I’m sorry I assumed you were being a pervert. Thank yo-“

“Who said I wasn’t? Enjoyed every second.”

(Name) paused, her jaw dropping. He was looking at her with a smirk, leaning against the wall.

“You look good. Suits you.”

With that, he unzipped her so she could change back into her clothes and left.

——————

(Name) crossed her arms.

“Feitan. Why?”

He tilted his head. “Why not?”

Feitan held a set of lacy black lingerie. “Would look good on you.”

The girl pushed the lingerie away, glaring at the man. “Not funny, Fei. You know pink is my favorite color.”

He was a bit taken aback by her comment. Was that what had irritated her?

She joined him in browsing the lingerie section, picking up a few pairs of panties and bras.

“Should I get the ones with the bows or lace?”

She’d really flipped this on him, the man glad he had his coat to hide his blush behind.

“Don’t care.”

“You seemed to care earlier.”

Was she teasing him?

Feitan groaned, pointing to a random pair before storming off. He didn’t want to get a boner in the middle of a department store. He was already struggling with the memory of her breasts in his hands, he didn’t need to imagine her in different sets of lingerie.

“Feitan wait up!”

(Name) ran behind him, carrying her shopping bags in one arm and her purse in the other.

“You’re so fast. If you’re going to run off at least bring me with you.”

Feitan grabbed her shopping bags with one hand and her hand with the other.

“Shouldn’t tease me. Wouldn’t leave if didn’t.”

“To be fair you teased me first.”

He couldn’t argue with that, only glaring at her from the corner of his eye.

“… where next?”

She took a second to think before responding.

“How about some lunch? I’m starving!”

He rolled his eyes. “Not starving.”

She pouted. “But it feels like I am!”

A small smile pulled at his lips. God, she could be so cute sometimes.

“Alright. I pick.”

Feitan lead her to a random restaurant, allowing her to get them a table. He didn’t like talking, reserving his words for the Spiders.

And (Name).

They sat down, a waitress asking what drinks they wanted and leaving them to look over their menus.

“Mmm…”

(Name) scanned the menu, noting a few things she might like. As she mulled over her choice, she peeked over her menu to look at Feitan, only to have to hold back a giggle.

She knew he was short, however she couldn’t but snicker at the fact the menu covered him completely. His grip tightened, the man placing it on the table to glare at her.

“Why laugh?”

She put a hand to her mouth. “Just remembered a joke someone told me.”

Before he could question her further, the sound of her phone buzzing caused her to jump.

“Oh, maybe it’s my friend! He’s supposed to be here too…”

He watched her take her phone out, the smile on her face fading to a frown quickly. She sighed and typed out a response before stuffing her phone back into her purse.

“Who was that?”

A sigh left her lips. “Someone that’s coming to York New and wants to meet up with me.”

Something harsh bubbled up in Feitan’s chest. “Who?”

“A friend.”

He frowned. “Name?”

She tilted her head. “Do you really need to know?”

“Yes.”

(Name) tapped away at the table with her nails, staring at Feitan with her pretty (e/c) eyes.

“It’s Illumi, the assassin.”

Feitan’s head whipped around to give her an incredulous look, a scowl on his face.

“The creep that kidnapped you? Not going to see him, right?”

(Name) didn’t meet his eyes, playing with the hem of her sleeve.

“Well… he said it was important…”

“(Name).”

He was serious now, his eyebrows furrowed. “Don’t. What if he takes you away again? Hurts you?”

“He wouldn’t do that, I-“

“You don’t know that. He’s assassin. Good at tricking people. Smart.”

She folded her hands over her chest. “I’m not going to fall for something like that. I think he’s an okay guy, before I left he was really sweet to me…”

She had a soft look in her eyes, something that made Feitan seethe. He didn’t want anyone else to make her look like that.

“Sweet to you? What happened to make you leave, then?”

(Name) stayed silent, looking down.

“Something bad, huh?”

Feitan scoffed, running a hand through his dark locks.

“If he hurt you, I kill him for you. Just say the word.”

(Name) began to giggle, but stopped when she met his dark eyes.

He was being completely serious.

“Fei…”

She took his hand, the man stiffening. “You’re my sweet Fei, you know? I don’t want you hurting people because of me.”

Her sweet Fei. Him.

“Yours?”

“Of course.”

He let out a shaky breath, his hand trembling slightly. Feitan hated how happy being called hers made him, even if she only meant it in a friendly way.

“Excuse me.”

The two glance up to see the waitress standing there with their drinks. Her cheeks were a faint pink, with her eyes on their hands.

“Apologies, but I brought your drinks!”

She placed the drinks down, (Name) using her free hand to sip on it.

“You two look so cute by the way! Probably the cutest couple I’ve seen in a while!”

The waitress was gone before (Name) could correct her.

“This is the second time a waitress mistook me and a friend for being a couple.”

“Second?”

“Yeah, happened when Illumi took me out for dinner.”

His frown deepened. He’d taken her out for dinner? Like… as a date?

“Anything else happen?”

“Oh, um…”

‘I wonder how well he’d react to knowing I’ve basically been engaged to him by his parents…’

“Promise you won’t get mad?”

This took Feitan by surprise. What had happened to make he ask that?

“Try not to.”

She sighed. “Well… his parents KIND of want us to… get… married.”

The silence that followed her sentence was so thick that you could hear a pin drop from a mile away.

Feitan’s eyes went from surprised, to confused, to angry, until settling into an unnerving glare.

“Do you want to marry him?”

“Well… I’m not sure.”

Feitan blinked at her. “Not sure? You actually want to marry assassin?”

“No, I mean… I don’t know. He’s nice, or well… he was for the most part.”

“Barely know him.”

She sighed. “Yeah, you’re right. We hadn’t even gone on a date, but the butlers said he was like… madly in love with me or something. I don’t think it was true though, he’s gorgeous. I’m not sure how he’d fall in love with me.”

‘I know why.’

He looked her up and down. Feitan didn’t understand why she was so self conscious, she was gorgeous.

His eyes lingered on her lips again. Today, they were shiny, covered in that peach flavored lipgloss she liked so much. The first time she bought it, she couldn’t stop talking about how soft it made her lips feel.

“Fei? The foods here.”

He blinked, dragging his eyes from her lips to the waitress who sat down their food in front of them.

——————

(Name) walked along the city with Feitan right behind her. You’d think from the appearance of Feitan alone, no one would dare to approach them.

Sadly, some people are stupid.

“Hey, broad.”

(Name) continued walking, not thinking the rude comment was aimed at her.

“Hey, I’m talking to you bitch!”

(Name) felt someone put a hand on her shoulder, her hand immediately grabbing Feitan’s and squeezing it.

With a look, he knew what she was trying to say.

‘Stay calm.’

But it was hard when some random thug was grabbing her like he knew her.

“My apologies, is there something you need, sir?”

The man laughed. “Yeah, I need you to come back to my place for a fun time.”

She frowned. “Sorry, but no thanks. I’m out on a date with my husband.”

‘Husband?’

Feitan was too shocked to breath, his face going red.

The man looked to Feitan, snickering. “This your husband? Little shrimpy wouldn’t be able to do a thing if I decided to take you all for myself.”

The girl pushed his hand off of her, (Name)’s once calm face twisting into one of anger. “Don’t talk about him like that. We’ll be leaving now.”

She pulled Feitan behind her, the man grabbing her again soon after.

“Where the FUCK do you think you’re going, bitch? I said you’re coming with-“

Before Feitan could unsheathe his word to sever his arm, (Name) turned and kicked the man between the legs so hard that even Feitan hissed out in pain.

“Come on Fei. Let’s go.”

She kicked the man in the stomach for good measure before grabbing Feitan’s hand again and continuing in the opposite direction of the man.

Once they were far enough away, (Name) let out a sigh before collapsing. Feitan caught her, picking her up and sitting her down at a nearby bench.

“That was terrifying. You alright Fei?”

She was shaking, her hands trembling as they cupped his cheeks.

“I’m fine… you look like you’ll throw up.”

“God, maybe. Did you see how big that guy was?”

She sighed and leaned against Feitan’s shoulder. “He was a real asshole. I was okay until he insulted you. Pissed me off…”

Feitan glanced at her from the corner of his eye.

‘She… did she do that for my sake?’

“Don’t worry. Weakling’s words don’t bother me.”

She sighed in relief. “Good.”

“But…”

Feitan grabbed her chin, forcing her to look at him.

“Called me husband. Don’t remember consummating any marriage.”

He grinned down at her, his eyes narrowing. “Jog my memory?”

She tilted her head. “Fei, I was lying. We’re not actually married.”

She smiled. “Unless you want to be.”

Feitan let her go, turning away quickly. “Wanna marry me Fei? Don’t you loooove me?”

“Shut up.”

“Come onnnn~ the chapels only a block away!”

He stood up and began walking away.

“Hey, wait! I’m sorry for teasing you, slow down!”

Feitan and (Name) sipped on boba as they strolled through town, stopping at a store every once and a while before (Name) suddenly stopped to check her phone.

“Oh! My friends want to meet up! Sorry Fei, but I gotta go!”

He tilted his head. “I go with you?”

“No, sorry you can’t. I don’t want them to potentially recognize you and get you arrested.”

He huffed. She wasn’t wrong to worry, but he wanted to stay by her side just a little longer.

(Name) gave him a quick hug before jogging off to where she was supposed to meet her friends. As she did, he got a text on his phone from Chrollo.

Boss: we need you at the hideout, Feitan. You can bring your woman if you want.

Feitan groaned. When were they going to stop teasing him over that?

Feitan: be there soon, she left to meet friends

The short man watched (Name) until she was out of sight, then turned to go in the opposite direction.

He was already starting to miss her, but bringing the peach lipgloss he’d snatched from her purse to his tongue to taste, he relaxed.

‘So that’s what her lips taste like…’

———————

“Leorio, Gon, Killua!”

The three boys looked up to see (Name) approaching, the girl waving.

“(Name), it’s been forever!”

Leorio jumped out of his seat and pulled her into a hug. Killua frowned from his seat.

“You were supposed to be here 15 minutes ago.”

(Name) broke away from the hug to plop down into a chair next to the boy. “Sorry, I was with a friend.”

“Friend? Who?”

“The grumpy one.”

They all nodded in understand.

‘She still hasn’t mentioned him by name. Weird.’

“So, is Kurapika coming?”

The three glanced between each other.

“Ah, is he not answering your calls either?” (Name) asked, a look of concern on her face.

They shook their heads. “Not even a text back.”

They all sighed together.

“Well, we just ordered lunch, do you want me to call the waiter?”

“No, it’s fine, I already ate!”

The group talked for a bit, the other three eating their lunch before they went back to the place the boys were staying.

“Greed island? What’s that?”

Leorio and (Name) sat next to each other, the girl holding a pillow to her chest.

“A legendary game.

“We’re trying to get a copy at the auction.”

Leorio hummed. “But why a game?”

“I think this game holds a clue to finding my dad.”

“Huh? The game holds a clue to finding your dad?”

(Name) tuned out of the conversation, scrolling through her phone. Gon and Killua had already told her everything before.

She stared at the message Illumi has sent her as a reply.

Illumi: I will text you a date and time. Be safe.

She reacted to the message with a thumbs up as a response.

(Name) watched the boys look up different terms for auctions, giggling to herself when Leorio got an idea.

——————

“Come on down, let’s have some conditional auctioning fun!”

(Name) stood beside Killua as Gon sat at a table, holding his arm out. They had decided to have Gon arm wrestle people in an attempt to make money.

“Here’s what’s up for bid! A Diamond worth three million. Comes with appraisal of the store where I just bought it! Arm wrestling will decide the winning bid. The first person to beat this boy wins the Diamond! You must pay a 10,000 Jenny entry fee!”

A crowd had gathered as Leorio yelled out the conditions for the auction. (Name) and Killua gave each other a look as people lined up to try and win the Diamond.

They watched as Gon arm wrestled a man, his fake groaning almost comical.

“He’s really bad at lying.” (Name) whispered to Killua. The white haired boy snickered.

“Yeah, he’s way too honest.”

Hours passed by with little luck for Gon’s challengers. (Name) groaned, leaning against the wall.

“How long are we gonna go at this?”

It’s was (Name)’s turn to hold the Diamond now. Killua shrugged. “Until Leorio lets us stop.”

“Okay, next person!”

A woman appeared from the crowd, (Name)’s eyes widening at the sight. She held out the money, Leorio smiling.

“Well, we have our first female challenger!”

The crowd cheered for her, but (Name) was silent.

‘Is that… Shizuku?’

She handed Killua the Diamond. “I’ve got to go, sorry!”

(Name) left as Killua yelled after her, chasing a familiar aura.

“Feitan!”

The man was waiting with one of the spiders, Franklin. He turned, his eyes widening when the girl appeared in front of him.

“(Name)? Why out so late at night?”

She waved her hand. “Oh, I was just in the area with a friend when I sensed your aura.”

He frowned, leaning forward and sniffing her. “Smell like cologne. Your friend a man?”

(Name) pursed her lips. “You shouldn’t sniff people, Fei. It’s creepy.”

Franklin snickered as Feitan turned red, seemingly embarrassed.

‘Creepy? She thinks I’m creepy?’

“Tch, answer my question. Stupid.”

“Yeah, they’re all men actually. I don’t really have any girl friends. Oh, I guess besides Pakunoda.”

Feitan stared at her. “… do you like any of these friends?”

She raised an eyebrow. “Why does that matter?”

“Answer.”

(Name) rolled her eyes. “Well, maybe one. He’s a pretty blonde. Very cute.”

“Name? Occupation? Address?”

“Fei!”

She laughed, but again, stopped when she noticed he wasn’t.

“Oh, you’re being serious.”

They stared at each other, the silence only being broken when Franklin spoke.

“Well?”

(Name) blinked, turning to see Shizuku walking towards them.

“I lost. He’s strong.”

(Name) internally praised her friend, a small smile on her lips.

“That little boy?”

Shizuku frowned, looking at (Name). “Weren’t you over there a moment ago?”

The two men immediately turned to look at the girl, her eyes widening. “Oh, um. Yes I was. I was going to challenge him, but after seeing so many people lose I gave up haha.”

Shizuku tilted her head. “Weren’t you holding the Diamond?”

(Name) froze. She wasn’t sure why, but it didn’t feel safe for them to know her friends. Although she trusted Feitan, she knew he was a thief capable of murder. Especially if he got jealous.

“Oh, yeah. I wanted to check it’s authenticity so they allowed me to look.”

Shizuku hummed. “Makes sense.”

Feitan watched her from the corner of his eye. She wasn’t telling the complete truth.

‘No matter. Get it out of her later.’

“I sort of wanted that Diamond.”

“You should have used your right hand.” Franklin put a hand on her head.

Feitan nodded. “Yes, why didn’t you use stronger hand?”

“Oh, right… he extended his right hand, so I did the same. I’d like to challenge him again.”

Feitan sighed. “You can’t, no time. We have our job.”

“Yes. Besides, buying and bidding would be wrong. We’re thieves.”

Feitan glanced at (Name). “If we want something, we take it.”

——————

“No.”

They had returned to the Phantom Troupes hideout, Chrollo having just finished exposing the plan.

“Why not? You know I worry about you. I can-“

“You’re not coming.”

The two had begun arguing once Chrollo suggested (Name) tag along to see the spiders in action.

“Why? Can you give me any good reasons?”

“You’re weak. Don’t even know your nen.”

“I do! My nen is actually super useful I’ll have you know!”

This caught the rest of the Phantom Troupes attention.

“Useful? Can you explain how?”

Chrollo had stood up from his seat and began approaching her. She nodded, looking around the room.

“Does anyone have anything sharp I can borrow?”

They regarded her with wary eyes.

“I’m not going to try anything stupid, there’s like… at least 10 of you here. I’m not strong enough to take you out with a single sharp object.”

Chrollo handed her a knife, much to Feitan’s annoyance.

“What are you-“

(Name) held the knife in the air and stabbed it into her own arm, sinking through into the other side.

“(NAME)!”

Feitan rushed forward, his eyes wide with panic. There was so much blood pooling onto the floor, all of it hers.

She stumbled a bit, gritting her teeth as tears fell from her eyes. “Shit, this does not get any easier with time. Hang on Fei, just wait a minute.”

Chrollo watched with great interest as she pulled the knife out and let it drop to the floor with a clang.

“Oh wow, now this is a show.” Hisoka purred from his seat. Feitan shot him a deadly look, barely able to hold himself back from grabbing (Name) and rushing her to the nearest hospital.

He needed to trust her, but god was it hard when the entire room smelled like her blood.

(Name) closed her eyes in concentration, raising her arm up shakily to her lips, where she planted a kiss on the wound.

To everyone’s shock, the stab wound began to heal instantly, stitching itself back together as she sighed in relief.

“You’re a healer. Interesting…”

Feitan was by her side before she could blink, grabbing her arm and flipping it just to see it had been completely healed.

“Told you I’m useful.”

She smiled at him, proud of herself. He pulled her closer to him, squeezing her tight.

“Scared me, never do that again.”

She patted his back before pulling back and standing in front of Chrollo.

“So, yeah. That’s how my nen works. Kind of.”

He held his hand out for hers, inspecting her arm. “I see… not a scar in sight. You can’t even tell you’d just stabbed yourself.”

He dropped her arm and grinned. “Well, I think it would be a great idea for you to accompany them tonight. That’s an order, Feitan.”

The man didn’t respond, only staring down at the pool of blood with worried eyes.

For a man so used to blood, the sight of hers unnerved him more than he cared to admit.

——————

(Name) sat in the hot air balloon, pouting. She’d been ordered by Feitan to guard it, saying a healer wouldn’t be needed inside.

She didn’t really mind all that much. After all, she assumed they would be stealing or killing someone.

She didn’t want to see Feitan kill.

Bored, (Name) scrolled through her contacts and clicked on Kurapika’s name.

‘Might as well try again. What harm can it do?’

She called him, half expecting him to not pick up.

“(Name)?”

(Name) jumped at the sound of his voice. “Kurapika? You picked up! Oh my gosh I’ve missed you so much.”

Her words caused the Kurta to blush, Melody smiling beside him.

“I’ve… missed you too. Are you doing well?”

“Yeah, so are the others. Have you been remembering to eat?”

The man sighed. “Yes. It’s hard not to when you text me everyday during meal times.”

“Hehe, sorry. I just worry about my sweet boy.”

His face turned a dark red. Did she say HER sweet boy?

“I-I-I apologize for worrying you.”

She sighed. “Don’t. It’s fine. Anyways…”

(Name) leaned against the basket of the air balloon, using Feitan’s coat as a blanket.

“When will I get to see you again? I miss your pretty face.”

Melody giggled next to him.

‘He’s talking to someone he loves. How cute.’

“As soon as my job allows it. I promise.”

She giggled. “I’ll hold you to it.”

Kurapika groaned when he heard the sound of his boss beeping in.

“Sorry, I have to go. Boss is calling.”

“Oh, that’s alright. Be safe, love you!”

Kurapika froze, his jaw dropping. Before he could respond, he accidentally ended the call.

“Shit- Hello, Boss.”

The girl giggled. ‘I bet that made him blush. What a cutie.’

The girl sighed. They said the job might take a while, so she rested her head against the basket of the air balloon.

(Name) soon fell asleep, cuddled up under Feitan’s coat.

——————

“Ouch!”

(Name) woke up to being flicked on the forehead.

“Fell asleep during job, stupid girl.”

Feitan hovered over her, the other spiders climbing into the basket.

“Oh, Fei, you’re back.”

She rubbed her eyes, yawning. The man patted her head. “Tired?”

“A little.”

He smacked the top of her head, Shalnark snickering in the corner. Feitan had been so gentle with her, it was amusing.

“Well wake up. Job not over.”

She whined. “So mean…”

Feitan grabbed his coat from her and pulled it over his shirtless form. “Hey, I’m cold!”

(Name) pouted up at him, crossing her arms over her chest.

He huffed. “Baby. Should have brought jacket.”

He ended up dropping the jacket of his tuxedo into her lap. “Use this.”

Feitan inhaled the lingering smell of her scent on his jacket, a small smile on his face.

“Thank you, Fei.”

He looked down at the girl to see her cuddled up under his jacket, smiling up at him.

“This is much better.”

It was hard to control himself, but he did. He didn’t want to embarrass himself in front of the other Troupe members by pouncing on her like a wild animal.

“Tch.”

Shalnark plopped down beside you. “Hey, share. I don’t have any sleeves.”

He pulled a bit of the jacket towards him, getting awfully close to (Name).

Because he didn’t want to make a scene, Feitan stayed quiet.

But one look at his eyes would tell you he was beyond furious. He knew Shalnark didn’t mind the cold.

‘Bastard. Touching what’s mine.’

(Name) moved closer to Shalnark. “You’re cold? You’re so warm!”

She leaned against his shoulder, smiling up at him.

“Oh. You’re pretty too.”

“Pretty?”

Feitan sat next to (Name) and pulled her towards him with more force than he had meant, the girl nearly falling across his lap.

“Hey, my blanket!”

Shalnark whined and attempted to join (Name) again, but stopped when Feitan glared up at him.

‘Aww, play time is over.’

The blonde rolled his eyes and leaned back.

But a part of him felt weirdly… warm.

‘Pretty, huh?’

———————

(Name) quickly fell asleep again, occasionally nuzzling against Feitan’s shoulder. It was quite the sight, the other spiders stealing glances at the pair.

Uvogin had just ended his call with Chrollo.

“She’s really asleep, huh? Must trust us an awful lot.”

Uvogin let out a laugh, instantly causing the girl to shoot awake.

“Mom I’m awake-“

Instead of her mother shaking her awake, she was surrounded by the band of thieves she’d been accompanying.

Her face instantly heated up, and it didn’t help that Uvogin and Shalnark were laughing at her.

“I guess Uvogin is a mom now!”

Nobunaga snickered, Uvogin clapping him on the back.

The girl hid her face in Feitan’s jacket. The short man held back a laugh himself, patting her shoulder.

Soon after they landed to air balloon, Feitan pulling a ski mask over her head.

“H-hey! What-“

“Hides your identity. Use In.”

(Name) huffed, using In as he helped her out of the basket. “Fine…”

They stood on a cliff, looking over a large crowd of people in suits. “What, are they the mafia or something?”

She had been joking, but no one laughed.

“Yeah.”

“Fei. You pissed off the mafia?”

“Not just me.”

She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Uh huh.”

“COME DOWN HERE!”

“WE’LL EVEN LET YOU DECIDE WHETHER YOU’LL BE DROWNED OR BURIED!”

Shalnark laughed. “There’s a whole crowd…”

“I don’t have to suck them up, do I?”

“No, they don’t matter.”

(Name) looked at them incredulously, though it was hard to convey with her face concealed.

“Hey!”

They all looked to Uvogin who stepped forward. “Stay out of this. I’ll handle it…”

He slid down the cliff, the mafia raising their guns. Feitan turned (Name) around. “Don’t wanna watch.”

(Name) could hear the sound of flesh being ripped apart and bones cracking, and for once she didn’t question Feitan. She had seen Uvogin eat a live chicken in front of her, she knew what he was capable of.

“His philosophy is to be the strongest of them all. An ordinary gun wouldn’t even scratch him.”

“Physically, he’s the strongest.”

“It’s like a gorilla stomping on ants.”

(Name) pouted, glancing at Feitan.

“Oh? More of them!” Nobunaga said.

“They came all the way here, merely to be killed.” Franklin stated. (Name) leaned against Feitan, the man holding her up with ease.

“Just watching isn’t fun, let’s play cards.”

(Name) perked up. “Ooo, sounds fun!”

The group sat in a circle, Feitan standing watch. As the group played, he’d steal glances at (Name). He couldn’t see her face, but he could practically sense her hesitation.

“Uvo will be okay, right?”

(Name) placed another card down, a frown on her face.

“Are you kidding? He’s the strongest in the troupe, physically.”

She sighed. “I know, I heard earlier. Even so…”

Shalnarks eyes softened slightly. “He’s tough. You don’t need to worry.”

Feitan patted her head. “Like we said earlier, gorilla stomping on ants.”

———————

Some nen users began fighting him, Uvogin not allowing his fellow Troupe members to join the fight.

From the sound of it, (Name) didn’t think he’d need their help.

“11.”

(Name) set down another card, glancing at Feitan again. “Fei, how’s the fight going?”

“Just ate someone’s head.”

(Name) shivered. “Like… a persons head?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Can’t be good for his stomach.”

Shalnark chuckled. “That’s what you’re worried about?”

“Well. He did eat my chickens alive without getting salmonella so…”

“Don’t try to figure her out. Strange girl.” Feitan stated, a smile on his lips.

They continued playing, until all of a sudden Shalnark covered his ears.

They all followed suit, (Name) quickly doing the same.

An ear splitting roar echoed through the desert, potentially deafening anyone that hasn’t covered their ears in time.

(Name) felt Feitan tap her shoulder a moment later, signaling it was over.

“You idiot! Give us a warning first!” Franklin yelled.

“What if our eardrums had burst?”

“Sorry, sorry. But that would’ve given my plan away. Besides, you guys had plenty of time to cover your ears before the sound reached you.”

“That’s true.” Machi said.

(Name) peeked over the edge, Feitan holding onto the back of her shirt.

“Are you alright, Uvo?”

He grinned up at her. “Better now that I got a pretty lady worrying over me.”

“Yeah, he’s fine.” (Name) said, Feitan pulling her back up. “Hey, you’re going to rip my shirt!”

“Better than you falling and busting your skull open.”

(Name) brushed the dirt off of her pants, looking over the group. “I wish I would have brought some snacks. Then we could of had a picnic.”

Feitan smacked a hand over his forehead as Shizuku nodded. “Should have. I’m hungry.”

“Shizuku! Would you suck the poison and leeches from my body? Your vacuum will do the trick.”

She finished picking up the cards before answering. “Blinky can suck out poison, but nothing alive.”

“What? Then what am I supposed to do?”

Shalnark leaped down, (Name) blinking in surprise. He’d landed over 30 feet below them without any issue.

“Let me see.”

Shalnark picked up the leech and inspected it. (Name) squeaked and hid behind Feitan.

“This is a spotted leech… it takes one day to migrate to the bladder, before laying its eggs and dying.”

“So?”

“The eggs will hatch shortly after, exciting through your urinary tract. It will cause enough pain to kill you.”

“Hey, don’t joke around…”

“However, they require a specific ammonia level to hatch. If there isn’t enough, the eggs don’t hatch, and can be excreted harmlessly. So until this time tomorrow, you should drink pee non-stop and be sure to urinate frequently!”

He squished the leech, giving Uvogin a smile.

“Don’t scare me like that… Shizuku, can you take care of the poison?”

“Yes!”

“Someone go to the city and get lots of beer.”

Franklin nodded. “I’ll go.”

“Make sure they’re ice-cold!”

“Don’t get too greedy!”

Shizuku joined the two, Blinky out and ready to work.

“Okay, get that poison out of me.”

The sound of chains wrapping around something caused the three to pause.

When they turned to see what was going on, they saw Uvogin covered in chains wrapping around his body.

He was launched into the air with a yell, quickly disappearing from sight.

Feitan grabbed (Name), throwing her over his shoulder as he jumped down.

She held on, trusting him enough to not scream.

“Did you see that?” Shalnark asked.

“Yeah.”

“Those chains came out of nowhere to wrap around his body.” Shizuku said.

“Is it a new shadow beast? Uvo can’t move because of the tranquilizer and the leeches still inside him.” Nobunaga stated plainly.

“Then that’s that… let’s go and save him.”

Feitan sighed while patting (Name)’s butt. “Good grief. He’s so much trouble.”

“Hey!”

She wiggled out of his grasp, the man holding her by the waist as she pouted down at him.

“I have a trace for now. I used In to conceal the thread, so as long as they don’t use Gyo to spot the needle, I can follow them anywhere.”

Machi held an invisible thread, (Name) quickly suing Gyo to spot it.

“Okay, let’s find them before they notice it.”

“This is our chance to finish the remaining Shadow Beasts.”

(Name) furrowed her eyebrows.

‘That aura… felt familiar.’

——————

A problem quickly arose when the group found a car to steal.

“Not enough seats.”

Feitan glanced between (Name) and the car, sighing.

“I can just stay behind.”

“No, dangerous.”

“Then I can ride in the tru- OW!”

He flicked her forehead. “No. Dumb ass. Hurt yourself.”

“Just have her sit in your lap. She’s your woman, isn’t she?”

Feitan shot Nobunaga a look, but couldn’t deny his statement.

“Wouldn’t it make more sense for Feitan to sit in my lap? He’s lighter than-“

Feitan grabbed her wrist and dragged her towards the car, pulling her to sit in his lap. She squeaked, struggling against his iron grip.

“Stay still.”

(Name) whined and wiggled a bit more, until she felt Feitan’s fingers dig into the soft flesh of her thighs. She glanced back at him to see his face hidden behind his coat.

“Face forward, stay still.”

With not many options, (Name) decided to listen.

184 notes · View notes

loveronlineee · 2 years

Text

I.O.U. Part 2 (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Masterlist All Parts

Eddie Munson x Cheerleader/Popular! Reader (She/Her)

Warnings: swearing

Synopsis: Eddie cashes in his I.O.U

Y/N notes: shorter than Eddie

Did I base Y/N’s friends off of my shitty friend group in High school? Yes. Yes I did. A lot of you guys wanted this so I hope you like it! There won’t be another part after this, I think I managed to end it on a good note:)

Wanna be on the Eddie Munson tag list? Look here!

Wanna request something? Look here!

Eddie waltzed around this trailer that Sunday morning. He was on cloud nine. Last night felt like a dream. Any other guy at that party would’ve called his night a fail.

Didn’t fuck? Fail.

Eddie on the other hand, couldn’t care less about that. He picked up the cue card again, going over Y/N’s handwriting.

I.O.U

One kiss

To: Eddie Munson

From: Y/N L/N

This voucher is non refundable and non exchangeable. Expires never (but I’d like it if you used it sooner than later<3)

He breathed in then out and picked up the phone, putting Y/N’s number in and listening to it ring. It was soon picked up by a sleepy sounding Y/N.

“Hello, L/N residence.” She answered through a yawn. Eddie chuckled to himself.

“Yes I’m looking for Y/N L/N?”

“Eddie?” She laughed. “You don’t have to talk like that.” She sounded more awake the second she knew it was him.

“Hey I was just copying you.” Eddie joked. “How you feeling this morning?” He asked as he leaned on his counter.

“Not that hungover actually. I drank like a gallon of water before I went to sleep so I think that helped. D’you ever go through phases where toast is like the best food ever?” Eddie heard her crunch on the other side of the phone.

“Yeah, you going through that right now?”

“This is slice 6.” She said with her mouth full. Eddie chuckled again.

“Well I’m glad you’re okay.”

“Thanks for checking on me. None of my so called friends rang me. I really don’t wanna see them tomorrow.” Y/N groaned. Eddie heard a thunk from the other end, making him think that she hit the phone on her head.

“I would say that you can hang out with me, but that would probably end in a worse outcome for ya.” Y/N sighed.

“I don’t know Eds, I might take you up on that offer.”

“R-Really?” Eddie stood up straight.

“Well I’d rather hang out with someone I like and get made fun of than hang out with the people making fun of me.” Eddie grinned widely.

She really did like him, it wasn’t just her being drunk, bored or overly polite. She truly did like him. But still, a tiny part of him wouldn’t believe it. A silence fell over the two for a moment.

“You do… remember everything from last night? Right?” Eddie asked, a little uneasy.

“Let’s see…” Y/N breathed out. “After my friends ditched me, I found you outside. We hung out in the kitchen for a bit and Chance tried to get in my pants. An offer I expertly declined. We moved upstairs to the bathroom and chatted up there for a bit. I tried to kiss you and you rejected me. We saw Jason about to get it on with someone who wasn’t Chrissy. You drove me home, I invited you in and you rejected me again-“

“Can you not say rejected?” Eddie laughed at how Y/N was phrasing it. His voice breaking comically.

“Is that not what you did?” Y/N joked back.

“Trust me L/N if you were making passes at me sober, I wouldn’t have objected.” He paused for a moment. “Speaking of which, your coupon says if I have any questions or complaints..?” He held the piece of card in between two fingers, moving it so he could see both sides. Eddie swears he could hear the corners of Y/N mouth turn up.

“You got a question or complaint for me Munson?”

“Well your voucher is very vague.” He began, putting on a bit of a voice. “It doesn’t specify what kind of kiss this is valid for. A peck on the cheek? Full on make out session?” Silence from the other end, making Eddie suddenly very nervous. Was he taking it too far? He heard Y/N inhale softly and slowly.

“It can be whatever you want it to be Eddie.” Her voice was almost a purr with how velvety it sounded. Eddie felt his knees going weak, leaning on the counter again to keep himself upright.

“W-Whatever I want huh?” He repeated back to her, trying his best to keep his composure.

“Mmhmm.” Y/N hummed down the phone. Jesus H Christ was this girl a part time phone sex operator??

“O-Okie dokie then I’ll keep that in mind.”

OKIE DOKIE?!

Eddie covered the phone with his hand as he cringed at his choice of words, mouthing what the fuck to himself. He was doing so well up until that point.

“Eddieeeeee? You still there?”

“Yup! Yup I’m here! I’m here.” Eddie blurted out, bringing the phone closer to him once again. Y/N giggled.

“Okay well I should go. Got some homework and chores to do around the house but, I’ll see you on Monday yeah? You can cash in that I.O.U. maybe…?

“Yeah! Y-Yeah Monday sounds good. I’ll- I’ll see ya later.”

“See you later Eddie.” Y/N hung up the phone. Eddie gripped it hard in embarrassment, grabbing it in both hands and biting down on the middle before slamming it back on the wall.

He flung himself onto the couch and rubbed his hands on his face. He groaned in annoyance at his own lack of social skills.

“God damn it L/N. Did you have to crank that charm of yours all the way up to 11?”

———————————————————————

Monday morning came and Eddie was ready.

He had managed to compose himself, prepared to keep his cool throughout the day until he was ready. He put his hands in his jean pockets, feeling the piece of card in his right one. He grinned to himself at the thought of it.

The metalhead stood at the entrance of the school, watching everyone walking in. He noted the people from the party. They had gone back to completely ignoring his existence, as expected. Well, all but one.

“Good morning.” Eddie turned to see Y/N on his left, in her cheer outfit. A knowing look on her face.

“Good morning.” He copied, grinning.

“You waiting out here for me?” She asked as they started walking.

“Maybe.” Eddie looked down at his feet. Y/N smiled and walked closer to him. The pair noticed the odd looks they were getting. Disgust, confusion, amusement. They had expected it.

Eddie spotted Y/N’s friends up ahead. He looked down at her. She kept her eyes facing forward, towards her homeroom class. Eddie did the same.

One of the girls spotted her passing.

“Uh Y/N?” She said, sounding annoyed that she hadn’t said hi. The other girls were giving her similar looks. Y/N turned to them.

“Steph.” She answered, unbothered.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Stephanie asked. Her eyes darted from the fellow cheerleader to Eddie.

“Going to class.” Y/N answered plainly.

“We’re not going in yet.” The girl stated, obviously wanting Y/N to stay with them like she usually did.

“Okay I’ll see you later then.” Y/N turned and continued to walk. Leaving the group of girls in shock.

“That was brilliantly cold L/N.” Eddie complimented as they got out of earshot. Y/N just grinned, being so pleased with herself. They reached Y/N’s classroom.

“So I’ll see you at lunch?” She smiled.

“Yeah.” The two just stared at each other for a moment.

“…You wanna cash in your coupon yet?” Y/N asked, standing on the tips of her toes.

“Nnnnnnot just yet.” Eddie teased. Y/N planted her feet back on the ground.

“Okay Munson.” She smirked. “I’ll see you later then.” Eddie watched her walk into her classroom, grinning like an idiot. He had to find the perfect time to ask.

———————————————————————

Eddie sat at the head of his table at lunch, big stupid grin still plastered on his face. He hadn’t told his friends about Y/N yet and he couldn’t wait to see their reactions.

She walked into the room and spotted him. Her head darted over to the popular table where she usually sat, then back to him. She gave him a wink and began heading over to the jocks.

Eddie leaned back in his chair and looked up at the ceiling.

“Gentleman.” He began, getting the boys’ attention. “What would you say, if I said Y/N L/N was gonna come sit with us today?” Eddie asked. His friends all frowned at him.

“Uh I’d say did you get hit on the head with a blunt object?” Mike asked. Eddie grinned, leaning forward to look at him.

“Just watch Wheeler.” The Hellfire club all looked over to Y/N as she approached the other cheer girls. Even in the noisy lunch room, they could just about hear the conversation.

“So, deciding not to ignore us now huh?” Jessica asked as all the girls glared at her. The jocks watched the scene unfold, having missed what had happened that morning. Y/N clocked Jason and smirked. The basketball player looked down at his lunch.

“Hey Chrissy.” Y/N started. She saw Jason go stiff with fear as his girlfriend looked up at her.

“Yeah?” Chrissy said innocently.

“How come you weren’t at the party on Saturday?” Y/N asked. She watched Jason get more and more tense.

“Oh my parents and I went out to eat so I couldn’t make it.”

“Aww too bad. It was pretty fun, right Jason?” She grinned. The jock just nodded, unable to speak. Y/N sighed dramatically and looked back at the other cheerleaders. “Well it was pretty fun except for the part where you guys left me there at 1am on my own.” Stephanie scoffed.

“Is that what this is all about? Why are you making such a big deal out of it? Not everything’s about you.” The other girls seemed to agree. This was the answer Y/N was expecting from them. She just nodded and began to walk away. “Wha- Y/N! Where are you going?”

She smirked at Eddie as she approached his table, sitting down on his right. The boys at the table stared at her in shock. Eddie turned to Mike.

“Told ya Wheeler.”

“W-What?” Mike managed to say. Y/N looked round at all of Eddie’s friends, seeing their face.

“Wait, you didn’t tell them?” Y/N asked, half laughing. Eddie shrugged.

“Yeah what’s the fun in that?”

“Okay that the hell is going on?” Dustin questioned, saying out loud what everyone was thinking.

“Y/N and I had a great time together at a party on Saturday.” Eddie explained vaguely. Y/N laughed, confusing the others even more.

“Uh let me put it this way,” Y/N began. “I’m done being one of them. You guys seem way cooler anyways.” The sincerity in the cheerleader’s voice convinced the boys that she wasn’t joking. Small smiles began appearing on all their faces.

“Y/N it’s not funny anymore.” Stephanie and Jessica had stormed over to their table. The rest of the popular kids watching from afar. “Come and sit with us.”

“Hmmm.” Y/N put a finger on her chin, pretending to think. “No I think I’m good here thanks.” She smiled. Jessica huffed.

“What are you doing with this freak anyway?” She spat. “We know you don’t actually like him. Stop trying to be different for attention.”

“I’m not pretending Jess.” Y/N stated seriously.

“Yeah right.” Stephanie scoffed. Y/N turned to Eddie.

“Anything you might wanna give me right now Eddie? A piece of paper perhaps?” She hinted. Eddie grinned, eyes moving to the girls. He began to put his hand in his pocket when Jason interrupted.

“Just leave her here.” He looked at Y/N, obviously still afraid she’d say something to Chrissy. “She can do what she wants.” Stephanie and Jessica stared at Jason, speechless. Y/N and Eddie grinned knowingly.

“Why thank you Jason.” Y/N said, putting on a voice. “So kind and considerate. You always think about other people’s feelings don’t you? Especially the people you care about the most.” Y/N jabbed. Jason couldn’t look her in the eyes. He just gave a short nod and headed back to his table. Stephanie and Jessica slowly walked back too, heads going back and forth at Y/N and Jason.

“Brilliant L/N.”

“Thanks. I’m still gonna tell Chrissy.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah it’s like, girl code. She deserves better.” Eddie nodded in agreement. He fumbled with the paper in his pocket as he thought.

“You doing cheer stuff at the game today right?”

��Yeah.” Y/N smirked. “How long d’you think it’ll take for me to get kicked off the squad?”

Eddie didn’t answer, instead just grinning to himself. He had his plan, and he was ready to execute it.

———————————————————————

The cheerleaders stood at the front of the bleachers with their pompoms in hand as the principal talked. Y/N stood at the end of the row. The other girls keeping a distance away from her, still salty from lunch.

“Hey.” Y/N turned to see Eddie had snuck in and sat down. She looked a little behind him to see the Hellfire club was all there too.

“You never come to these. Why are you here?” She whispered.

“Cause you’re here? Aren’t you gonna do your” Eddie mimicked the girls’ dancing. “cheer thing soon?” Y/N giggled quietly.

“Yeah once principal Higgins is done.” Eddie stated sitting in the bottom corner as Higgins finished talking. The cheerleaders ran on as the band started their song. Y/N stood to the left of Chrissy. Her eyes stayed on Eddie as his stayed on her.

Her smile faltered as she looked closer. Eddie rested his head on his hand. His leg bounced up and down. He looked a little uneasy, restless even. Y/N furrowed her eyebrows, giving him a look of slight concern as she continued to dance.

Sudeenly, Eddie ran on, disrupting everyone. The band stopped playing and the crowd gasped. The other cheerleaders looked at him, disgusted. Y/N smiled in shock.

“Eddie what are you doing?” The metalhead put his hand in his pocket and pulled out a familiar piece of paper.

“I’d like to redeem this please.”

“What, like, right now?” Y/N laughed, not entirely believing him.

“Yeah. Is that okay?” He grinned. Y/N smiled back. She looked around at the others, all eyes were on her.

“Yeah, I’d say it’s okay.”

She threw the pom poms either side of her and wrapped her arms around Eddie’s neck as his wrapped around her waist. As soon as their lips touched, the Hellfire boys screamed and cheered.

Their kissed turned into smiling against each other then laughter, hugging each other tightly. Y/N pulled away slightly to find Eddie’s lips once again.

The couple couldn’t stop their smiles, finally getting what they both wanted.

“Y/N YOU’RE OFF THE FUCKING SQUAD!” Stephanie screeched. Y/N laughed as she tilted her head further and further back, giving Eddie access to her neck.

“Steph does it look like I give a single fuck?” She said through her laughter as Eddie continued to cover her neck in kisses. The crowd was divided, half cheering and clapping, half booing and complaining.

They didn’t care. They couldn’t give less of a shit.

This was the best day of their lives.

Tag list: @Mikinyi @justaproudslytherpuff @angelicjinwoo @k12baby @spiderman-berries @ruhro7 @justanotherhappyidiot @dontcallmesavvy @kenzi-woycehoski @gh0stm3g @lagataprrr @spencersbookbag @ygrworld @ambernicole90 @alwaysbeenfamous @angelsarecallin @voteforevilthoughts @iameddiemunsonshair @hellf1reclub @phobles-world @isshecleverorisshecrazy @olrjmarvete @b-bella9 @ultraoliviajeromethings-blog @beatlebeesstuff @korescomaactually @bilesxbilinskixlahey @darkened-writer @nightless @gnkkstarz @cullenswife @killergoddessmm @preciousbabypeter @uselessbutinteresting @frogtits1 @lotus-es @padfootpottah99 @siriuslysmoking @enoumen-t @marrigold-2002 @nightless @the-mysterious-miss-s @olrjmarvete @evie-119 @rand0m—fangirl @felicityofbakerstreet @lotus-es @v0idl1nq @stv-1-ncent @eiviea @iheartcb @grumpyy-bearr @purple-flamingo @eddiessoulmate @violetrainbow412-blog @mcueveryday @marauders3rawh0re @ravenhood2792 @dragonalpha54 @slytherinintj13 @pastel-abyss-x @missscarlettangel @charli123456789 @henhouse-horrors @erikaar @golden-hoax @fairynamjoonie @caramelkatsukis-bitch @sun-faced @somerandomasgardian @helensophie @avobabe87 @s-u-t @superheavymetalunicorn @low-keyyyyy @carliuxima @avarose06 @ticharluv @ijustfndamilldllrsthatsmnefgt @gia-maybank @takemetoneverland420 @notbeforelong @lovepity @falling4uke @emiijemii @chocolatestudentllamabanana @milkiane @montgomery-fucking-gator @girl-in-the-chairs-void @ourheartsofsteel @simp4fictional @sakurarou @nyctophiliiiiaaa @just-that-bi-girl @ieatrocks1 @beautifulrunwaymodelwombat @geeksareunique @chiggennuggie @levylovegood @eddie-swhore @char1389 @chaerwithluv @annikin-im-panicin @mmmxmo @cestlavie03 @selenelouvel @thanatophobiawilldestroyme @unicorntrooper @jmj-1312 @nxrdamp @funn-sizedd @idblamekate @miraakswhore @7myoi @vintageleather @lemongirl5910 @hermie62 @tuskjohnny @madcosss @vinnielovesmel @michaelfuckinglangdon @bbyharlow @bakugouswh0r3 @bookswillfindyouaway @im-a-nobody-101 @jellyfishbeansontoast @steph88w @kendallpaige @strawberrykittey @abbyeey @rocking—and—rolling @dragons-dejavu @ghoulsgraveyard @spiderstyles04 @piratedelusion @your-mom-is-smoking-hot @lxffy-icon @kaiya3333 @my-obsession-spn @eddiemvnsongf @bicallison @rivuh-stone @summeritalyrain @hanihans @noa-keselman @hangel0veb0t @xbreezymeadowsx @official-maddibrown @sugabops @shoutokozume @joyfulstar81 @dontwaistyourtime @wintersdarling @gnkkstarz @pleasantlycrazyworld @oinomniaparatuso @magnet-girl @e-girl-on-the-server @antisocialthat70sshow @ma-tara @golden-thv @shamidreamer @crypticlxrsh @squishymochiuwu @kovieky @existentialjams-blog @caelin32212 @kissmyquill @lunar-flwr @whiskeypowder @vhscillian @alisslahey @prongs-girlfriend @afs1 @lilsubbysblog @melodiclovesong @same-panic-different-disco @stormyparker @madnessismylover @obi-wanakenobi @nerdboylover @waterfallpussyprincess @cailaif @cherrybean1116 @cal-is-not-on-branding @dragqueen-scully @underrailed @elrose1532 @anxiously-sad @haroldpotterson @nicodoesntexist @ruckusbowzeus @liviav @eddiemunsonlomlll @moonbeampillgoth @seiphira @sweethearteddiemunson @ahoeforharlow @stcrrjoon @tnu-ree @dootys @rengokuiloveu @findleynovadachs111 @reincarnationoftheparty @friednickelfestivalwolf @capybergara @wolflover384 @othermonsters @chibipeachu @waitalice @possible-yandere @katsukis1wife @ofherscarlettwitchways @defnotarobot @iameddiemunsonshair @ilovehotdads001 @thoughtsofdarc @letmeplaytheliontoo @aunicornmademedoit @barnaclebeeshive @shutthefupdoll @mushywutty @eddiemunsonsfavbitch @anangelwhodidntfall @smol-book-nerd @eddiesmxse @salembridger @houseofpyschoticwomen @moonisu @paola-carter @bay-did-nothing-wrong @ladypeaches4summerluv @the1withchampagneproblems @athenata @munsonxharringtonx @havecourage-darling @bea-bo @yelenas-princess @tototini @winchester-angel @riddle-munsonswhore @imheadintothemountains @mimikyu-of-death @heystaystray @stiles24 @realmoose @emilyymbbb @killmewithafanfic @frankiethedarkangel @insssanemind @hello-shirousa @kylokilupin @hxneybeehxlland @cherrypieyourface @imareallycoolperson @watchingteav @zervopoulouu @harringt8ns @spiderrrling @forsaken-letters @namjoonskitten @fayetheenthusiast @authorlovers @myglitteryrose @denibaby @sunflowerbebe07 @cherriebat @ln-nell @efvyqrs @lets-be-freaks @carebearsofie @poltergeistsblog @like-things-thatarentreal @zoinksscoobs @mylesofasgard @ihearteddie-munson @luvmybbies @restandrelaxslayti0n @eddiemunsonsfuturewife @isapellim @charming-fan-girl @toomanyfandoms87 @munsaniac @nilladean @maruushkka @white-marvel-grey @boooil @ronnieissupermegafoxyawesomehot @lynnblair @stratospherewalker @arctyres @that-girl-named-alex @slvtherinseeker @da-disappointment @dreamtiara @ceejay-95 @sunflwrnsunnieshine @ameliakf13 @fentyreligion @deafeningempathfishcowboy @escape-in-time-x @mitskislays @thegingerthatwaited @camiloboo @cinnamonrollangel @toomanybandstocare @mmflvrrs @shanhalen @eddiemunson1sstuff @rainbows-dreams @whydoesmyphoneautocorrectdick @theprincessofeddiemunson @ozziiiiieeddi @tubble-wubble @re3xx @spnfamily2005 @coffeehurricane @skelefandom @hunnybunimdun @hestiia-vesta @mtndewinyourmom @begginyouformendes @munsonmunster @flicksturz @thikkiesixx @sebby-staan @maraudersimp231 @libelulas-y-sandias @teaberry68 @syxtiramishuui @uhellagoofy @livslifeonline @kenzi-woycehoski @marauderssimpcuzwhytfnot @sweetpeapod @dearelliewrites @fraudfrog @kbakery @scentedstudentfestivalclod @loliakeoghan23 @a-mexican-waffle @griffinkid2187 @meaganjm @that-one-gaywhore @bluestuesday @bjrmaybank @wheaty-melon @slut-for-fictional-men-kms @eddiemunsonlvrr @zupajespren @gloomy-official @emeraldborealis @depressedstressedlemonzest @intoanothermind @httpfandxms @aliloveseddie @eddiemunsonswifee24 @cinderellacauseshebroke @cherrypieyourface @cdizzleswzzlebonzy @fallonaurr @megudragon @laylasbunbunny @talksoprettyjjx @jeep-truck @justmethingsstuff @ruesrealwife @disartrous @m00nkn1ghts @aniavid @steveharringtonsrealwife @markszone @astrobre @lili-pond @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @whenmypartysover @babymango-writes @luvwanda @james-bucky-barnes310 @fatfuckingcatstuff @h0n3ysgh0st @averysblog @eateraa @zzokks @brain-of-nekoma @parisishigh @softbrattyangel @pastel-abyss-x @andreead @reibeyondherheart @v4lntyne @1950schick @ebickitoria @givemylovetoall @alexandra-001 @spicy-todoroki @ezrabun @teenagegoateecollectorposts @dang-shawty-okay @fuggiamodaqui @spookybiiiitch @dazed-and-confused101 @qtheressurections @secret-ssociety @d20eddie @idkwhyimhere18 @chocochannie @elamity @dawnkilledademon

#eddie munson #reader x Eddie Munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #st eddie munson #stranger things season four #stranger things season 4 #stranger things x reader #reader x stranger things #stranger things #stranger things imagine

2K notes · View notes

pedroshotwifey · 4 months

Text

Favorite Bounty chapter 5

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Din Djarin x afab!bounty!reader

Chapter word count: 7.3k

Chapter summary: Being on the run is harder than you thought...

Chapter tags/warnings: angst, canon-typical violence, cliffhangers bc I like chaos, stuff I'm forgetting

A/N: Hey, y'all!! I'm so, so sorry this took so long to get out! I think I had gotten used to writing shorter fics, so doing a long chapter was just kind of a pain for me. I'm super happy to get this updated though. Gonna go ahead and say that this will likely be a short series with less than ten chapters purely because of the length of each one, but that's not set in stone. If this is your first time reading this series, there are four parts before this! <3

****

It’s easy to get lost in the crowd once you step off the Crest. Mando had landed fairly close to the open market but, unfortunately, a good bit away from the spaceport. You immediately get sucked into the throng of people browsing the shops, your heart pounding hard against your ribs. The only thought that settles your ridiculous pulse is that you must be pretty damn hard to find mixed in with this lot. Though, of course, you know Mando, and you know that if he really wanted to spot you, he would. Bounty hunting fucking bastard.

You can't help but look over your shoulder every couple of minutes. Each time you do so, you fully expect to see Mando trailing behind you, cuffs in hand. You choose to ignore the pang of hurt in your chest when you think about him—about how easily he betrayed you. It didn’t even seem like he gave it a second thought. You curse yourself for dwelling on the issue and shake your head. You can't afford to waste time on facts you have already accepted.

You stumble as a man knocks into your shoulder, bringing you out of your thoughts and making you lose your balance. You narrowly miss running into a woman holding hands with a young boy as you struggle to keep yourself up. You flash her a sorry look in response to her dirty one. You really need to figure out where you’re supposed to be going. You’re unfamiliar with Nevarro’s layout so you have no idea what direction you should go.

You walk straight for a few minutes before you decide that isn’t going to get you anywhere. This part of the planet is so ridiculously congested that there's no point in even moving your feet if you don’t have a set path. There's no telling which way you might be swept. kriff, a few minutes from now, you might realize that you had been traveling in a circle, and hadn’t even noticed.

Deciding that you would like to avoid such a circumstance, you push your way out to the side of the crowd so you can find somewhere to get a better view. You have to be quick about it—you know you’re low on time as it is, you can’t waste precious seconds trying to figure out a game-plan. You need to come up with a quick and easy route in a quick and easy fashion.

Fortunately, as you push your way out of the heated blob of people, you spot a building that looks easy enough to get on top of. It's not super high up, so you won’t attract any unwanted attention, but it’s just tall enough for you to be able to spot the space-port.

You figure it’s the best plan you’re going to be able to think of for now, so you quickly scramble to the side of the building, stopping in front of the ladder that goes all the way up to the top. Grabbing the first wrung, you begin to climb up, glancing back every now and out of paranoia. Of course, Mando’s never there, but you can’t help but check just in case.

On the roof, you find that it’s easy—just as you suspected—to spot the port over the thousands of people. You easily map out a path before rushing back down the ladder. It shouldn’t take too long to get to the port, most of the roads you picked out were clear of people for the most part.

Once your feet are back on the ground, you take off toward the first turn in your plan. It looks pretty busy, but from here it should be smooth sailing.

You become part of the market crowd the second you turn onto the street. Your jaw drops at the sight of so many people in one place. And you had thought there had been a lot of people around the crest… that was nothing. It definitely didn’t look like that many people from above.

The throng of people is quick to take you into its embrace as you hastily make your way into the streets filled to the brim with shops. Everywhere you look, there is some kind of cart or stand offering some kind of merchandise. You ignore it all as you try to push your way through the crowd.

It’s a bit hard to do when there are vendors shouting in your ear and popping out in front of you, making you stop briefly as they shove their product in your face. You resist the urge to push people out of your way. You really don’t have the time—or patience—for this right now, but you don’t need to draw unwanted attention.

You look for signs posted with directions, letting them guide you until you’re able to push your way out of the main strip and into a less crowded street. You let out a breath of relief as you take in your surroundings, noticing the port close by. It’s not a straight shot, but it should only take you another few minutes or so.

You try to stay discreet as you cling to sides of buildings and use hanging awnings for cover. It’s surprisingly hard to act nonchalant and unsuspicious if you’re trying too hard to do so. Having a price on your head is a real pain in the ass.

Adrenaline starts to sneak into your system as you grow close enough to the ships to decide which one to take. You need to be quick and choose one that will be leaving within the next few minutes. You know well enough to be aware of the fact that security will start to check passengers if there’s word of an escaped bounty. You can feel your breath starting to grow thinner and your body getting hotter.

There’s a passenger ship near the back of the port. It seems smart enough to catch something like that so you don’t seem like you’re, well, on the run. You look around again before starting that way, breezing past people to find the line for tickets. You cross your fingers that there will be spots available on such short notice.

As you approach the stand, you discover that there are only a few people waiting to purchase a seat. By the time you’re standing still, there’s only one person in front of you. A warm feeling rushes through your body, making you almost light-headed. You’re so close to escaping. Nobody ever does that.

“Next!”

You take a breath as you step up, trying to calm your nerves.

“Hi, I need to get one ticket to…” you glance at the sign hanging from the stand. “Coruscant.” You wince internally. That probably isn't the best place to go in this situation, but at least you’ll be off of this planet.

The woman looks at you skeptically, obviously confused by why you didn’t even know where the ship would be going. You flash her what you hope is a disarming smile as she squints and tells you your total none-the-less.

You quickly swing your bag around and unzip it, pulling out your money. You’re handing it over when you hear your name called from behind you.

Your heart drops to your ass as you turn, wide eyed, to see Mando running full speed at you. You don’t even have a second to think before you’re running too, scanning the area in front of you for an escape route.

Curses repeat themselves endlessly in your panicked mind as you spy a ship getting ready to depart. It’s beat up and seedy looking, but it’s also likely your only chance. With one more glance behind you, you turn sharply to the left and make a bee-line for your escape.

You try to focus on your breathing instead of the Mandalorian quickly gaining on you. The ship you’re headed toward is already starting to descend, and you just about triple your efforts.

You hear your name again, and it makes you wince. A dull throb starts in your chest. Being this close in proximity with Mando again, but now as official enemies, hurts in a way you didn’t think was possible.

You’ve been betrayed before, but not in such an intimate way. The fact that he pretended to have genuine interest in you—to engage in sexual acts with you—when he knew the entire time that he would be turning you in for a reward, digs deep into your chest like a rusted knife.

Tears are obstructing your vision before you can deny them, but you push through until you’re only a few feet away from your ship. The gangplank is still open about halfway, but it should be enough for you to squeeze through by the time you reach it. It’s maybe five feet in the air right now, so it’s going to be tough to get up there.

Mando is only a few feet behind you now. You lunge for the plank with everything you have, and your fingers grasp on by just a few inches, the jagged metal stinging as you pull up enough to get both arms up.

You look at the ground, seeing Mando coming to a stop from where you just jumped. You’re up too high now for him to jump after you, but you forget he has his jetpack until it comes to life. You scramble up the plank as it continues closing to avoid getting cut in half.

In the end, it’s your only saving grace. You and Mando are able to see each other face to helmet briefly before you’re closed inside, and you make sure to let him see the raw anguish on your face before it does so. You almost wish he had that stupid helmet off so you could see for yourself if the asshole has any kind of remorse.

A shuddering breath escapes from your lips as you wipe your tears. You turn around on your knees to examine the ship. It’s dark, dingy, and smells absolutely horrid. There’s no crew in sight, to your absolute relief.

Resisting the urge to gag at the stench, you begin to crawl quietly away from the closed hatch. There are crates everywhere, taking as much floor space as possible and stacked as high as they can go. You’re confused for a moment as to why there needs to be so much product on board, but then a heavy realization dawns on you.

These chests are filled with spice.

You’ve seen these come in at your job at the junkyard. Old ones that had surpassed any kind of use for runners. Never in your life though, have you ever seen so many in one place. You absentmindedly hold your breath as you crawl forward, trying to find a place to hide.

You stop in your tracks when you hear laughter coming from the cockpit—at least two men.

Shitshitshitshitshit

There’s no getting out of this if you’re discovered. Your heart races in your chest as fear overtakes your body. You really can’t seem to catch a fucking break, can you?

You look around frantically until you see a small space toward the ceiling. It’s partially covered by a crate, which will make it harder to get to, but better for hiding. You scootch to the end of the crate you’re currently behind, peeking your head out just enough to make sure the hull is clear.

As soon as you’re in the clear, you bolt as quickly and quietly as you can toward the concealed space. As you approach, you map out the notches and grooves you’re going to use to climb up there.

Step by shaky step, you pull yourself up, ignoring the stinging cuts in your hands and forearms from the plank. They’re not very deep or wide, but the strain on them hurts almost just as much.

The crate at the top wobbles as you put all of your weight on it, the entire stack swaying slightly. Your eyes flutter shut as you mutter a silent prayer. It’s much too precarious for your liking as you swing one leg onto the edge of the cubby. You’re way too close for this plan to fail now.

You’re only able to take a full breath once your entire body is safely tucked within the small space. It’s cozy, barely enough room for you to sit comfortably. You don’t even think it’s big enough to lay down if you wanted to.

Chatting and laughter continues from the front of the ship as you slowly pull the crate in front of you to conceal you better. It’s heavy as hell and you have to nudge it inch by inch so as to not make a screeching sound against the one below it.

Once you’re satisfied with the placement, you lean back against the cold metal wall behind you. Now that the exhaustion is beginning to seep into your bones, you can’t help but think that the feeling reminds you of sitting in the Razor Crest.

You don’t stop the tears that run down your cheeks now. You deserve to cry after the week you’ve had.

****

You realize much too late that you have no idea where this ship could be going, nor how long it’s going to take to get there. You have food and water in your bag, but you don’t know how you’re supposed to go about your other…needs.

Thankfully, it seems that the destination is close enough to only be in hyperspace for what you assume was about half the day. You’re half asleep when you feel the tell-tale jerk of the ship coming out of it. It startles you enough to wake up the rest of the way, and you silently scold yourself for letting your guard down for so long—though you can’t remember exactly when you last got some decent sleep.

The ship rattles as it cuts through the atmosphere of whatever planet it’s dropping this shit off at. The thought crossed your mind at one point that you could have possibly inhaled some of the spice lingering in the air.

How great would that be? Trying to plead guilty of whatever crime you supposedly committed and then failing a drug test. Really screams “I’m innocent!” You roll your eyes, tired of your brain making up scenarios to throw you through more hoops.

The ship stops rattling after a moment, and you can feel the glide as it lowers to the ground. The crates rattle once again as the ship plants itself. The walls of the craft creak and groan as a swaying starts, which is strange considering you’ve definitely landed.

The motion makes you sick to your stomach, but it’s almost a welcome distraction from the fact that you’re about to piss yourself. You need to find a way off of this death-trap before one of the runners discovers you.

You hear the gangplank starting to lower, and as it does, a gust of heavy rain pushes into the hull. A cold spray hits your face, making you flinch and cover yourself with your arm. From the sliver of scenery you can see, the sky appears to be dark, but not enough so for it to be night.

You’ve heard about places like this; planets that storm every day of the year and never see the sunlight. They’re usually only used for fishermen, junk yards, and spots for spice traders to meet up. Which absolutely makes sense at the moment.

You back into the cubby as much as you can, making yourself scarce as two men walk out of the ship and into the dreadful weather. They appear to be dressed for it, both of them wearing rubber boots and thick raincoats. You watch them until they’re out of sight, and then wait a few minutes before climbing back down to the floor.

You get low, bending enough to be concealed by the chests until you get to the opening of the ship. You let out a breath of relief upon seeing that there’s no threat anywhere near at the moment. You’re so sick of luck not being on your side. This is definitely a welcome change.

The rain is bone-chilling as you step out into it, immediately soaking you. It’s so thick that you can barely see in front of you. A couple buildings are within view every couple of seconds when there’s a break in the sheets of rain due to the heavy wind. With no other options, you decide to head that way.

As you trek through the unforgiving storm, you can’t help but compare the way the fat drops of water hit your face to being cut by shards of glass. Though even if you were being cut, you would never be able to tell with how fast the blood would be washed from your numb skin.

When you reach the closest building, you don’t waste a second before pushing the door open. The loud atmosphere of a cantina immediately welcomes you into its warmth. Despite the heat, you still shiver as you make your way through the main room and to the back. You rush into the bathroom and wait until a stall empties.

As you wait, you get a couple strange looks, but you’re too tired to do anything about it. You just want to pee and find some directions to get the hell out of this place.

****

When you get out of the restroom, you spot an empty stool wedged between a burly looking man with a beard and a plump woman who seems to have had one or a dozen too many. Every other spot is full, so you hop up and lean forward, trying to catch the bartender’s attention.

She works quickly, cleaning glasses in between serving replacements and taking orders. It takes a moment for her to come your way, but when she does, you have her full attention.

“What can I get you, hon?”

The bartender is a clean but busy looking woman with frizzy hair and a stained apron. You clock the kindness in her eyes immediately, and decide to put your trust in her. She looks like one of those women who would offer up a pad or tampon even if it was her last one.

“Hi, uh, I’m actually not looking for a drink,” you say, trying to keep the tremble out of your voice. You’re not sure if it’s there due to the cold, the exhaustion, or the anxiety. “Can you tell me–”

You stop talking when the woman purses her lips and shakes her head.

“Sorry, babe, I can’t hear you over this damn ruckus,” she gestures to the people around you, and then points to a corner where you assume the entrance to the bar is. “Meet me right there.” At least she can tell you’re not here to party.

You slide down from your stool and squeeze your way to where she pointed. She’s already there when you get there. She’s taken her apron off, which confuses you slightly.

“Hey, I–”

“Honey, you need to get out of here,” she cuts you off, hanging up her apron.

“What, why?” You ask through your stomach dropping. She flashes you a sympathetic look and you return a defeated one. You’re so fucking tired. How long are you going to have to put up with this shit?

“Bounty Hunter’s Guild just sent out a high stakes bounty warning. Picture looked just like you, babe.” She raises her eyebrows and gives you a pointed look.

You nod at her. Great, so not only do you have pucks out for any hunter that’s willing to find you, but every being in the galaxy has gotten an alert to look out for you.

“Yup, That would be me.”

“Mhm, figured. C’mon, let's get you out of this place. I’ve got somewhere you can stay until you can get off-world.” She exits from behind the bar and takes your hand, attempting to pull you with her.

You give her a wary look, confused as to why she’s helping you.

“How do I know you’re not turning me in?”

“Humor me for a second, just come outside at least. Please?” She stops and looks at you, a pleading look in her eyes.

You lick your lips but decide to follow her. It really doesn’t seem like she wishes you any harm, but you can’t be sure—you never would have thought Mando would, after all. Just outside, like she said. No further until she spills.

You allow her to pull you back the way you came, into the rain, and then down an alley next to the bar. There’s a flickering street lamp tucked under an awning between the two buildings, which the two of you huddle beneath.

“Look, I’m gonna make this quick,” the woman says before you have a chance to speak. She pauses and watches you intently. You nod at her, signaling for her to continue.

“I know how this bounty hunting shit is. My sister was hunted for a good while because she was seen outside the scene of a robbery. She was just a pedestrian, but she got taken in and questioned pretty thoroughly and then ended up spending a few nights in a cell. It’s fucked, to put it simply.”

“I don’t even know what I did,” you tell her, your voice cracking just slightly as you shake your head. She gives you that same sympathetic look from the bar.

“I know. I read the reasoning for your bounty. It was bantha-shit.”

“Great,” you say, pinching the bridge of your nose. You’re well aware that 90% of the population doesn’t care about that—all they’ll see is the pay for turning you in.

“There’s a place on the outside of the city, it’s been abandoned for a couple years. I’m pretty sure the heat and water are still connected, but nobody ever goes there. It’s an outdated complex. You okay with staying there for a bit?”

You nod at her, not knowing what else to say. Maybe a thank you? She’s talking again before you get the chance to do that though.

“Alright, you stay here for just a second,” she instructs before running back into the bar. You lean up against the building, listening to the rain as you let out a shuddering breath. The woman is only gone for a few seconds before she re-emerges with a piece of paper in her hand.

“These are the instructions to get there from here,” she says, grabbing your hand and shoving the paper into it. “I’m here if you need me, but please don’t try anything if you don’t have to.”

You look at her, and then the paper, studying the scratchy writing.

“Thank you, really,” you tell her. She just nods and releases your hand with a tight-lipped smile.

“Be safe, hon,” she says before ducking back into the bar.

The trek to the safe house is absolutely miserable. Everything on your body is soaked down, and the paper the woman gave you was starting to fall apart. You had to keep ducking under buildings and awnings to memorize what you could of the directions.

You’re glad you did, because by the time you reach the place, the paper is non-legible. The building itself is pretty isolated. It appears to have been apartments at one point, but is now just a tall junkyard. There’s piles upon piles of trash around it, but you suppose that only gives more of a reason for people to not go inside.

Unfortunately for you, you don’t exactly have a choice in the matter. You run up to the first door you see, and curse when you try to pull it open. It’s locked, of fucking course.

You walk around to the side of the building until you see a window that’s not boarded up. Your palms slip against it as you try to get some leverage to push it up, but with some persistence, it comes loose. You almost fall when it springs up, but at least it’s towards the room inside.

You glance behind you one more time before pushing yourself in. You close the window behind you and take a deep breath as the deafening storm is somewhat quitened. It’s cold in the room you find yourself in, but it’s far better than being out in that shit.

Looking around, you spot a stove surrounded by counter space, hanging cabinets, and a small, round table accompanied by four outdated chairs. Definitely a kitchen. There’s what appears to be a hall to your right. You walk toward it, trying to hold back your shivering.

It’s not super long, but you notice how eerily quiet it is as you walk though. On the other side, there’s a room with a bed and a couch. There are three doors, which you can only assume lead to a bathroom, a closet, and the main hall of the building.

You open the first door, which goes out into the hall. It sends a gust of even colder air into the room, making your teeth chatter as it envelops your wet body. You look left and right, and then reluctantly step into the freezing hallway. It’s dark as shit, but the occasional uncovered window allows enough—albeit dim—lighting to lead you toward the stairwell.

There’s a sign tacked on the wall there, and you sigh with relief as you spot the directions to the maintenance room. That must be where you can flip the heat on. It’s not far, just down the first staircase and down the hall a little. Without the windows, the room is even darker than the rest of the building.

You mutter a curse under your breath, figuring that your best bet is going to be blindly running your hands around the walls until you find a switch. You put your hands out and start to glide them slowly left to right, and then up and down until you find an abnormality in the wall.

You shudder, trying to ignore the cobwebs that have accumulated on the panel which are now sticking to your hands. As long as they’re not spiders, it’s okay. You hesitantly flip the first one, and then the second. Nothing happens in your area, but you swear you hear a click come from one of the floors above you.

In quick succession, you flip the rest of the switches, and a light finally comes above you once you reach the second to last one. You huff out a breathy laugh at your luck. Now that you aren’t in total darkness, you can clearly see the other panels around you, along with their labels.

You flip the switch for water, and then another for heat. A low humming starts above you as you do so, indicating that at least the latter is working.

A piping hot shower and half a ration bar later, you’re laying on top of a bed under a heater, still trying to warm up. You feel the most relaxed you have since you found your bounty puck, although it still isn’t enough to fall asleep without keeping an eye open. Eventually, though, the humming from the heating system lulls you enough to fall into a half-sleep.

****

You spend three days on what you’ve learned is Attera Bravo before you run out of luck. Word of a Mandalorian bounty hunter is quickly spread, and you catch wind of such as you pay a visit to town for more rations. The panic which had ebbed away after the last few days is suddenly back in full force.

You really thought you would have a second to catch your breath, but you’re quickly learning that there is no such thing when there’s a price on your head. While you’re in town, you pick up a few rations on the outskirts, and that’s it. You had wanted to find a rain jacket on your trip, but you decide not to risk being in town for too long.

So you begin to make the trip back to the safe house without a cover from the cold, biting rain. It sucks ass, but it’s better than carbonite. Even though you’re on the outskirts, you still hug the sides of buildings as you make your exit. Your head keeps snapping towards the slightest movements; a flickering street lamp, a closing door, a flash of far away lightning.

You break off into a sprint as soon as you’re a few feet away from the cover of the nearest building. You don’t look back as you push yourself, not wanting to risk slowing down. All you can see is the terrifying image of Mando catching up with you like he did on Nevarro.

You glance at the spaceport as you run past, seeing if you can get a glimpse of the Razor Crest. You don’t see it, but that’s probably for the best. There’s no mistaking that the Mandalorian bounty hunter the town’s people are talking about is your Mandalorian bounty hunter, but seeing the Crest would probably crack something within you. That would mean that the kid is likely with him, and you can’t afford to think about him right now.

You can hear your heavy breaths over the sound of the rain, and you choose to focus on that instead of the icy chill. You try to take breaths in through your nose to calm yourself, but you just get a nose full of water, so you scratch that and continue your panicked breaths through your mouth.

Breath in, breath out, breath in, breath out, breath in–

Your breath hitches. There’s a buzz coming from behind you, steadily growing louder. You spare a glance over your shoulder, and you can just make out the headlights of what looks to be a speeder bike. The pathetic “no” that leaves your mouth would be extremely embarrassing if anyone were around to hear it.

You try to pick up your pace, but almost trip with your effort. The bike is getting closer, you don’t have to look again to know. There’s no way you’re going to outrun it. You have an idea, but it’s going to be risky. You grit your teeth, thinking it over, and decide that the risk is better than definitely getting caught.

You stop suddenly, just for a second, until the bike is almost to you. Then you turn around, seeing Mando atop it, only a bit away. He didn’t anticipate your stop, and doesn’t register the fact that he needs to slow down until you’re running past him and back toward town.

You don’t get much of a head start, but luckily the space port is still close enough that it’s not absolutely necessary. As soon as you’re close enough, you dive around a crate to get out of the way of the speeder. Mando arrives right behind you, quick to hop off it and start on foot after you.

You make your way to where you remember the ship you came on had landed. The last time you passed here, you remember seeing the gangplank open. Either they make routine stops, or they’re here for a while. Either way, it means that your escape will be aided by the same ship that helped you the first time.

By some incredible luck, it’s still there. There’s a group of relatively shady people gathered a few yards away from it, standing under a wing of another ship, but you’re getting used to dealing with shady things at this point. You run past them, not intending to stop until you’re alone without the threat of Mando.

Without stopping to turn around or even check if there are people in the ship, you run up the plank, slamming your palm over the button to close it behind you. You hear a couple panicked “Hey”s from behind you, which you can only assume is the protests of the guys who own this ship. You run into the cockpit, which is thankfully empty.

You start to flick switches and pull knobs, everything you can try to get this thing off the ground in the fastest amount of time. If you learned anything on the Crest, it’s how to work a ship’s panel. You hear pangs coming from the closing door, and look out the window to see that half of the group from earlier has run off, and are likely the source of the sound.

You looked out just in time to see your Mandalorian coming to a stop in front of the other half of the group, who are blocking him from getting further toward you. You huff out a tiny laugh. Take that, asshole. The ship starts to ascend just as Mando throws his first punch.

****

Once you’re back into space, your heart gets the memo that it can stop working overtime. You decide you’ll just cruise for a bit while you figure out where the best place to go would be—assuming Mando will be occupied with his opponents below for a moment. It needs to be somewhere pretty isolated and unknown for the most part, but also not painfully obvious.

You consider going back to Jakku for a moment, but scratch that idea quickly. You would for sure be turned in by someone there. And besides, Mando would look there eventually.

You sigh and lean back in the outdated pilot’s seat, staring at the stars around you. You hadn’t realized how much you missed this view. It’s quiet and peaceful, and it almost makes you forget everything you’re dealing with right now. A lump catches in your throat at that thought.

You really don’t understand how you’re going to get through this. You don’t want to spend the rest of your life running; that’s no life at all. To be in constant fear of being caught, never being able to settle down, never able to make connections. It genuinely makes you sick to your stomach.

You lean back and put one hand over your eyes as you try to think about what your next step is. It also needs to be somewhere where you can get more supplies. You need more clothes since all yours have been pretty weathered by the constant rain. You’re also going to need money at some point.

How are you going to do that? Something tells you that you won’t be able to just snag a job along the way. You sit forward in your seat again, shaking your head. The air con on the ship has kicked on, hitting your drenched body and making your teeth chatter as you pull up the navigation system to browse nearby planets.

You’re only pressing the first button when the ship suddenly jolts, a crashing sound coming from the back. It scares the shit out of you, your hand clutching tightly to your chest as you spring up out of your seat and look behind you.

An alarm sounds, frightening you more as you realize that you’ve just been hit. The impact didn’t seem like enough to do a lot of damage, but you have no idea how to work the cannons on this thing—if there are any cannons at all. Judging by the looks of this thing, if it is equipped with a weapons system, it’s likely out of date and of no use to you.

You speed up and grab the steering to quickly turn to the right, trying to get out from in front of the offending ship. Maybe if you can get behind them and far enough away, you’ll be able to get into hyperspace. It seems that your best bet is going to be running. You’re sensing a bit of a pattern at this point.

You grit your teeth as the ship tilts slightly with the momentum of your turn. A couple of left over bins in the hull spill over, making you wince at the crashing sounds. There’s suddenly a sweet smell, and you close your eyes briefly as you pray that there wasn’t any spice in those crates.

It was only for a split second, but when your eyes open, you’re face to face with another small craft. You swerve again to keep out of its way. As you do so, another pops up in your path, and then another, each of them coming out of hyperspace in quick succession.

Your heartbeat picks up with your panic as you realize you’re surrounded. You can’t see behind you, and there’s no way to go forward. There’s got to be at least five or six of them, and they’re probably carrying between at least four to eight people a piece. They could take you out right now if they wanted.

Gulping down your anxiety, you do the most rational thing you can think of in the moment, and reluctantly slow down to a gentle drift. As the ships come in closer with your surrender, you think ahead. If they take you onto one of their ships, you might be able to—

Your train of thought is stopped as you get an alert of an incoming transmission on the dash. You breathe out a shaky breath and press the button to accept it.

A holo-image of an extremely pissed looking Weequay sprouts from the com. You stand tall and put on a brave face. He stares at you, his eyes narrowing. You gulp, hoping it goes unnoticed. There’s a sour taste in your mouth, and a sick feeling in your stomach. You don’t know if you’re getting out of this one.

To make matters worse, the spice that had spilled with your turn is starting to creep up to the cockpit in a thick fog. The rusty-orange looking powder floats higher with every second, the effects quickly making you dizzy.

“Okay, girl,” the rugged looking creature drawls with a weird accent you can’t quite place. “I personally was having a good day today, and I think you should know that, first of all.”

You furrow your brow but don’t interrupt. The creature starts to pace slightly as he speaks in a casual tone.

“Everything was going great, I was making good sales, had deals going for that spice you have in my ship—which I’m sure you’ve discovered at this point. I was just about to have my guys deal with it—and then I got the call that some bitch stole my ship containing the goods. Would you know anything about that, sweetheart?”

You wince lightly at the insulting pet name, a stark difference from the way Mando used to say it. The dust around you is starting to pick up to the point where your eyes are stinging. You wish you could think of something to say back, but all you can focus on is the bile crawling up your throat.

“Hm, I think you would,” he stops to say flatly. “Now, my initial plan had been to force you off my ship and maybe take you out to have a little fun! Told my guys they deserve to have a little treat on me after their hard work the last few days. We’d just need you for a little bit, I’m sure these guys don’t have much stamina if you know what I mean…”

The man continues talking, but you’ve frozen in place. Your stomach twists at his threats, and you suddenly feel the need to throw up. The spice growing thicker around you is definitely not helping that factor.

“...would have been such a good time,” you zone back into the man’s vulgar words. Letting your gaze drift back to him from where it had fallen to the floor. You find yourself wishing for Mando, for the safety you felt as you laid so briefly within his comforting arms. You want to punch yourself for thinking that.

The pirate, obviously annoyed with your lack of response, continues rambling about this inconvenience, but you can hardly hear him through the ringing growing louder in your ears. The truth that you’re finally trapped is just catching up to you.

“Anyways, when I found your bounty poster, I thought just for a second that it must be your lucky day! But then, I figured that whoever wants you probably doesn’t give a shit about what kind of condition you’re in.”

He laughs at the increasingly panicked look on your face.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart! We won’t go too hard on you now. As long as you cooperate, of course. Just be good for us and we’ll send you to Nevarro without so much as a—”

There’s another crash from behind you, but this time it’s not your ship taking the damage. The man in front of you swivels around, straining to see the source of the sound. His eyes widen, and so do yours when you see the fear in his eyes. You take a step back.

“What the—”

The pirate is cut off again as his ship abruptly explodes right in front of you. His holo-image glitches out as you scream, falling back into your seat. Your ship is knocked back slightly at the same time you feel two other crafts quickly flying by you, chasing the shadow of the one you see above you.

Two ships emerge from either side of you, and your heart skips a beat once you catch a glimpse of the one they’re chasing. You know that ship. Two of the smaller crafts race after the Razor Crest as it trails them away from you.

That doesn’t mean you’re surrendering to anybody today. Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, you scramble to push the thrusters, planning to get as far away from here as you can. The two ships that aren’t tailing the Crest suddenly change direction to follow you instead. Shit.

You continue forward at full speed, making quick turns and dodges to throw off the idiots behind you. Unfortunately, it’s not working in your favor. You feel your ship jolt as a blast lands on the surface of it. You hear the sound of something powering down.

Your craft slows to about half its speed, making you cry out in frustration. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the Crest take out one of the ships that had been pursuing it. Another hit comes to your ship, and this time the hit is so great that you jolt forward and almost hit your head on the dash.

Another one immediately follows, and this time you do slip out of your chair and smack your head on the edge of the panel. Your vision blacks for a second, and you know it has to be at least a small concussion. A ringing starts back in your ears again as your vision blurs slightly. A big flash blinds you momentarily as—at least you assume—Mando takes out the other craft on his trail in front of your ship.

For a second, nothing makes sense. There’s another blow to the side of your craft, and then one more, one right after the other. You get rocked back and forth forcefully, only making you more confused. There’s too much going on at once for you to process; time’s moving too slowly and the spice is making you hazy and the alarm’s too loud and there’s another big crash and muffled explosion as another ship is annihilated.

You scramble, trying to stay up straight as you use your chair to push yourself up. You need to find a way to get out of here before you’re left alone with Mando. Does the hyperspace still work on this thing? Too bad you won’t find out, because as you reach for the dash, you get sent forward and smack your head again. This time, everything goes black.

***** Thank you for reading!! I'm going to try to have another part out in a few weeks!! I'm also making a taglist for this series if anyone would like to join.

66 notes · View notes

whispering-depths · 13 days

Text

Feast and Folly || Chapter 1

Pairing: Gale x Tav/Reader Rating: M (to be safe–it's fairly tame, just a little bit of spice in a future chapter!) Tags/warnings: Gale's Netherese orb, chronic pain, hurt/comfort

Summary: You are a wild magic sorcerer, gifted with an innate connection to the Weave, yet it has caused you nothing but immense strife all your life. Gale is a wizard, plagued by a Netherese orb that must feed on shreds of the Weave, lest the worst come to pass. Is there anything you can do to help ease his pain?

Slow burn, Act I pre-relationship, Gale x f!Tav/Reader. This is intended to be 3 chapters.

Read on Ao3

NOTE: This is written in 2nd person, but reader/Tav is my tiefling wild magic sorcerer, Tiresia. Her story is integral to the fic, so this is not really a true blank slate “reader insert,” but I don’t describe her physical appearance much beyond race-specific details (having a tail and horns and claws), story-relevant details (burn scarring, blindness in one eye), and being shorter than Karlach (as most everyone is). But there are lots of bits of backstory peppered throughout. (my drawing of the Tav in question, if you are interested!)

Chapter 1: Arcane Hunger

“So, remind me again, who are these ‘paladins' and, why are they riding your tail?” you ask, a little bit out of breath.

Your newest—and tallest—companion, Karlach, leads your small scouting party up the dusty, bush-lined path where you first met her just days ago. You try to keep up while you chat, but she has a good foot and a half on you so what amounts to a brisk walk for her is nearing a jog for you, your tail bouncing rhythmically behind you with each step. The vampire and the wizard have both fallen several strides behind now, long since having given up on keeping the larger tiefling’s pace.

You slow to a stop as the rundown toll house comes into view up on the hill, allowing a moment for your other companions to catch up.

“Zariel’s bootlickers,” she spats. “Trying to drag me back to the hells. They’re not particularly bright, but those fuckers are relentless, I’ll give them that. But between us, they won’t know what hit ‘em.”

You hum in acknowledgement, deferring to Karlach for the plan of attack. “What d’you think’s the best way for us to approach this, then?”

Karlach pauses for a moment, hellfire in her eyes, before launching into an enthusiastic pitch for how to banish the ‘paladins’ back to Avernus. You watch her animated hand-talking with bemused reverence, until her monologue is interrupted by a sharp intake of breath from somewhere behind you. Then—

An agonized groan,

followed by a heavy thump—

Something— someone— hits the ground, hard.

Time seems to slow as you spin around on your boot heel, your ears suddenly perked and alert. When you turn, you are half expecting to find yourself in the middle of an ambush—either the paladins had got the jump on you, or a roving band of goblins and Absolute cultists did.

But as the scene before you comes into focus, your eye is drawn to Gale’s cloaked form, doubled over in the dirt—his sweat-covered brow twisted up in pain, one hand clutching at the fabric of his collar, the tightness of his grip blanching the usually tanned skin of his knuckles.

Oh gods. What happened? Has he been shot?

Your mind reels, heart plummeting into your stomach at the thought.

Not him.

Something had drawn you to Gale nearly from the moment you pulled him from the portal he’d found himself stuck in. The wizard had landed right on top of you, knocking you into the dirt, his mortified blush and spluttering apology instantly endearing him to you. You found him handsome and charming, if a bit pompous, but still, Archmage Gale of Waterdeep felt deeply out of your league as an avoidant sorcerer with barely any mastery over her wild magic. There’s no way that he would be interested in you once he learned who you are, you reasoned. So you resigned yourself to admiring from afar.

But as the days went on, he started to seek you out in the evenings as a fellow magic user, expressing a keen interest in your innate abilities and connection to the Weave. You shared a few lighthearted stories of magical mishaps—like the time that a sneeze caused your skin to turn bright blue for a week, or when you accidentally flooded a small section of the Lower City because your mother refused to take you swimming—of course leaving out the more traumatic experiences. He offered up his own stories of mishaps and mischief in kind.

He was so genuine in his curiosity that you thought maybe you had misjudged him at first. But still, you felt guilty for the selective truths and the lies of omission. Even after he had partially revealed his own magical affliction, you still hadn’t quite mustered up the courage to share your own rather strained relationship with magic openly, nor the fact that you hadn’t intentionally cast a spell in nigh on a decade. This illithid nightmare you’d been thrust into left you with little choice but to rely on your magic again, so you made the decision to grin and bear it on your own.

Then, just a few evenings ago, one of these late night conversations bled into a more intimate moment, a warm embrace entangled in the very threads of the Weave as he told you of Mystra, his goddess and mother of all magic. A strange jealousy twinged in your gut at the reverent way he spoke of her, and your thoughts had wandered to your own longing, the shared connection laying bare your every repressed desire. You imagined what it would be like if you just pressed your lips to his, the soft scratch of his beard against your cheek, your tongue tracing the rampart of his teeth. His fingers trailing the seams of your robe, hooking under your belt, eagerly pulling you in closer—

“Soldier, get down !” Karlach hisses, snapping you back to the reality before you, shaking off your moment of reverie. You can’t afford any distraction if his life is in danger.

In your peripheral, you catch a glimpse of Karlach as she yanks the greataxe from her back and braces herself, eyes scanning wildly for assailants hidden in the brush. To your left, you hear Astarion let out a low growl, his lithe form swallowed up by your blindspot.

Without another thought, you rush to the wizard’s side and drop to your knees beside him. You take him firmly but gently by the shoulders and guide him into a seated position, allowing you to examine him closer.

Your eyes flit over his chest, scanning for any wounds, but you see no errant arrows, no bloom of blood staining his purple robe, nothing that would suggest grave physical injury. Your chest swells in relief, but it’s ever so brief. Something is still very wrong.

Gale lifts his head gingerly, and his wet, brown eyes flicker to yours. There’s an intensity to his gaze, an immense anguish that makes your breath hitch, and your world narrows until it is just you and the man sitting before you. You hold his gaze, searching for an answer. As your thoughts race, you try to suppress your rising panic so you can pinpoint the source of his pain.

“Please—,” his strangled voice dies in his throat, barely a hiss escaping through gritted teeth. He reaches up again and shakily pulls on his collar so that it dips just below the bruised purple outline etched into his chest.

Oh.

The hunger.

It isn’t the first time this arcane hunger has overtaken him since you began traveling together. You may not yet be privy to all the details of the wizard’s strange, magical affliction, but he’s told you enough for you to know more or less what is happening: his condition is worsening, yet again. The demon inside, as he had described it, had awoken to ravage him—clawing, tearing, teething from within.

He needs another magical artifact, immediately.

You start rifling through your pack, desperate to find anything you can part with—an enchanted amulet, a spare pair of boots, anything. Another pained whimper escapes Gale’s throat, and a knife twists in your own chest in sympathetic response.

You are no stranger to pain. The burn scars that pucker the left side of your face, neck, arms, and chest have caused you chronic, lingering pain for as long as you remember, ever since the day your magic ignited a fireball and set your childhood home ablaze. Though the burns have long since healed, the phantom prickles and incessant itching spells persist, and the restrictive tightness of the scar tissue itself causes you discomfort with even the simplest of movements.

Each time you laugh at a companion’s joke, each time you lift your arms to take off your tunic at the end of the day… hells, each time you look into a mirror, you are reminded of your stinging guilt, your hollow loss, the worst day of your life.

But among your companions, you keep that pain close to your chest. It is still difficult for you to allow yourself to be vulnerable in front of them when you already feel like a liability because of your unpredictable magic. Some days are worse than others, but even on the bad days you find yourself pushing too far in order to prove yourself useful. You wonder idly if Gale has been doing the same this whole time, too.

“Come on, come on, come on, there’s got to be something in here,” you chastise yourself for hoarding so many useless baubles as your fingers graze past one too many pieces of pilfered silverware. You start tossing them on the ground next to you and they land with a metallic clatter. You make a mental note to clean out your pack later at camp—this level of clutter is clearly becoming a problem.

After another moment of digging, you produce the small golden locket that the little tiefling girl’s mother had given you after saving her from that wretched snake. You picture the looks of pure love and relief on her mother and father’s faces after being reunited with their daughter. You try to picture your own parents’ faces in your mind’s eye too, though with the passage of time, your visual memories of them have become less precise. The illuminating spell the locket is imbued with is not particularly useful to you, but still, it had been an incomprehensibly kind gesture to gift you with such an heirloom—especially when you know those tieflings had so little to their names. Their kindness will not be in vain.

You hold the locket out to Gale. He reaches for it, but recoils as another shudder wracks his body.

“Do you—” you pause, unsure of what it is you even want to ask. “Do you want me to do it?”

He nods.

The last time that Gale had to treat his worsening condition, you’d curiously observed how he held the artifact to his chest, touching it to bare skin so that the shred of Weave within could be absorbed into his body. It seemed simple enough.

You clutch the locket tight inside your palm and lean in to press it lightly to the bruised skin above Gale’s heart. Eyes closed, his hand settles on top of yours, thumb slowly rubbing back and forth across the back of your hand.

After a moment, a cool glow emanates from beneath your clawed fingertips, the outline of the strange orb on his chest now pulsing with magic. Bolts of indigo Weave crackle in the air around you and caress your entangled hands, the hairs on your arm standing on end, magic flowing from the locket and into Gale’s chest—through you.

The sensation is an altogether odd one, though certainly not unpleasant or unwelcome; it feels markedly different from the way that your wild magic usually does. You’ve tried so hard to keep the tides of chaos within you from spilling over for as long as you can remember, but it has always felt more like of a cycle of ever-building pressure, a mounting tension, rather than a pleasant ebb and flow of energy—rather like a bowstring being stretched ever more taut, yet never released, until finally it just snaps.

But this, this is something wholly different. This magic feels electric —a soft, buzzing energy, starting as a faint tingle in the tips of your fingers but radiating outward, to the crown of your head and the tip of your tail. Your nerves sing, a cold adrenaline flooding through you, and the frenetic vibrations that echo through your body push a nearly inaudible sound from your lips. You shiver. Has magic ever felt this good before?

Almost as quickly as it started, the tendrils of shimmering magic melt into the air.

The wizard groans, and you realize for the first time that your eyes had fluttered closed at some point, your lips still slightly parted. You open your eyes to find Gale gazing back at you from beneath hooded lids, closer than you remember him being—an unreadable emotion flickering across them for a fraction of a second. Your palm lingers on his chest as you relish in the soft electricity humming in your veins, his hand still resting atop yours.

Karlach’s soft cough from behind you snaps you out of it.

Suddenly hyper-aware of the intimacy of the moment you have just shared and your companions’ stares boring a hole into your back, you are the first to move away. Your cheeks grow hot, flushing a deep red.

Your hands drop to your lap, opening your fist to observe the empty space where the little golden locket had been moments ago. You absent-mindedly fiddle with your mother’s tarnished ring on your middle finger, suddenly self-conscious and unsure of what else to do with your hands.

“You felt that too, didn’t you?” he whispers. Your eyes rise to meet his again. “It is a strange experience each time anew—like a lost soul is spelunking through the darkness that is me, only to be sacrificed on the dread altar of the heart.” You smile wide at the return of his usual grandiloquence—a sure sign that he’s feeling more himself again.

But the relief is gone in a moment. When Gale moves to stand, he winces, another deep pang ripping through his chest. You catch his elbow to steady him. His expression grows serious again, eyes darkening.

“Good gods, it’s hardly had any effect. Mystra have mercy on us all. Listen, I need to talk to you, all of you,” he finally looks past you to acknowledge Astarion and Karlach’s presence for the first time. Their expressions flicker between bewilderment and concern at what they had just witnessed.

“Tonight. I will make us supper, and we will speak then. You deserve to know the truth of who I was. Who I really am.”

You can’t imagine that anything he could say would change the way you feel about him. Not when you have your own secrets you’ve been keeping.

“Is there anything more I can do for you, Gale?” you implore him, voice barely above a whisper.

Gale shakes his head. “Oh, you do plenty for me already. More than you realize,” he pauses. “But this… this cannot be remedied. Please, I need some time to think. We will speak more tonight.”

You nod your head solemnly. “Do you want me to walk you back to camp? I’m sure it wouldn’t take much to convince Lae’zel to take your place if you need a rest.”

“Oh, I assure you, that will not be necessary, but I am grateful for your endless thoughtfulness. Let us carry on, I do believe we were about to parley with some paladins.”

#gale x tav #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #gale x f!tav #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #my fanfic #my writing #my ocs #oc: tiresia allseer #wild magic sorcerer #gale fanfic #bg3 fanfiction #gale bg3

36 notes · View notes

likeadevils · 11 months

Text

welcome to swiftie tumblr here’s a style guide

are you afraid of people making judgements about the way your profile looks but you don't know enough about tumblr to tell what people might judge you about? then this post is for you!

this is mostly gonna apply to specifically swiftie tumblr, and even then like. you’re totally free to present yourself however you want, but these are just the dominant cultural norms

URLS

album and song titles are the most sought after

lyrics are also very popular (the shorter the better)

dashes are considered a bit cringe but slight misspellings or adding an s to words are fine

adding your name to your url will make people go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

PROFILE PICTURES

you should have a pfp chosen before you start following people, otherwise people will go “oh fuck a bot” and automatically block you

pictures of yourself will also make people go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

gradient/one color backgrounds behind a picture of taylor are still very common, but plain pictures of taylor are also a vibe

if they have that one particular pale pink-ish with a bit of grain filter people will go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

displaying your pfp in a circle format on your mobile theme is more common but if you have it square people won’t judge you

BACKGROUND IMAGES

there’s lots of acceptable ways to do this but something unique to tumblr is playing with the border between the background and the rest of your blog

a few years ago it was super popular to add a ripped paper effect to the bottom, and that’s still hanging on

a curved border (either a wave or a bowl shape) is also fairly common

making the picture smaller than the borders has started to gain traction (i started noticing it becoming popular like, mid pandemic)

hiding the pfp from your mobile theme to make your background flow more is super common but the color schemes should still compliment each other

MOBILE THEME

you can use this handy dandy tool to make your background/text color match a color in your background/pfp

i’d say white or black backgrounds are still the most common but i’ve found the colored background with white text to be making a strong comeback

there’s not a ton of judgement about this, as long as it all matches

BLOG TITLE

blog titles can really be whatever but in general keep it short (less that one row)

a short lyric, a word, or an emoji are the most common options

DESCRIPTION

i’ve found getting on a computer and going to yoururl.tumblr.com and clicking on the little painting thing on the top right corner to be the best way to edit text but the mobile app works fine too (unless you’re adding links then you have to go on a computer)

in general 2-3 rows are the most common, and ideally it’s not just one big wall of text

general format is name (this is where you link your caard/about page) / age/age range / pronouns in the top row and a (short) lyric you like in the bottom

another popular format is everything being a lyric and adding links to stuff on important words

if you like to make edits/art/some other type of original content feel free to add a link in your description

you can add links (again only on desktop) like this

MISC BLOG SETUP STUFF

if your likes/following are visible (especially if both are visible) people will go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

some people show their most popular posts, some people don’t, to my knowledge there’s no judgement either way

your pinned post can be whatever you want it to be but it’s super common to have it be a short about/navigation page

most people have a tag they use for personal posts (“name speaks/rambles/etc” is probably the most common) but you don’t have to if you don’t want to

INTERACTIONS WITH OTHER PEOPLE

follow for follows are not super common. it happens (if you follow someone people it’s common for that person to check out your blog but not in any way a guarantee) but for the most part being tumblr mutuals is a higher bar to clear than “oh this person follows me.” if you want to get peoples attention i would recommend this method, but even then the person can chose not to follow you without it being an insult to your character

blocking is more common than it is on twitter and not an insult to your character. repeatedly starting shit with other people will cause your followers to block you. if you want to start a fight with someone just block them instead

feel free to reblog old posts and spam like

while the mechanics and terminology are very similar, in terms of the way they are perceived a tumblr like is not equal to a twitter like, a tumblr reply is not equal to a twitter reply, and a reblog is not equivalent to retweet

likes are generally utilized as a little hello or bookmarks

reblogs are closer to twitter likes than anything else

replies have a fairly unique function in tumblr interactions but i think the closest way to describe it is like a semi-public dm to the op— chances are no one else is going to see it but the op (except if you replied through a reblog, then the reblogger will see it, but the reblogger will still likely read your reply as intended for the op)

if you have a comment put it in the tags. you know those old screenshots of tumblr posts that have a million “oh my god this is so funny”s breaking up the content of the post? that’s widely considered not only cringe but a bit rude now, please don't do that

if you like someone’s tags, reblog from them and say “prev tags”. every few weeks you’ll see someone from a different corner of tumblr say “prev tags is dead!” but on swiftie tumblr prev tags has never died and doesn’t show signs of dying in the near future

@-ing taylor in a post (edit: unless it’s a joke, @-ing taylor as a joke is very funny feel free to do that) will make people go 🫵 twitter user 🫵

again you can present yourself however you want, tumblr is the home of cringe, these are just the dominant cultural norms that i’ve noticed on swiftie tumblr specifically

#txt*#please don't yell at me

213 notes · View notes

kkurades · 1 year

Text

HEART TO HEART ━━━━━ vogue magazines

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

NISHIMURA RIKI never would have thought that being a demon meant he’d be summoned by you on a late tuesday evening begging him to make your p.e teacher disappear for a day just because you didn’t want to run during class the next day

p r e v | m a s t e r l i s t | n e x t

jongseob let out a frustrated sigh as he got down on his knees to help you put on the shoes he got for you while you and danielle were giggling quietly.

“jongseob-ah she’ll break her neck in those things,” your friend laughed while the orange haired boy tightened the straps of the shoes.

“but at least she won’t get lost,” he mumbled back before getting back up.

you’ll admit that you were slightly on the shorter side and perhaps your mischievous and curious characteristics made it easier for you to get lost in a crowd.

you can remember all the times that you were out with your band mates and they lost sight of you. yuna even bought a bag with a leash to make sure you didn’t walk off somewhere.

jongseob and danielle quickly said their goodbyes before you left to the park where you and sunoo had previously decided to hang out.

the walk was short and you quickly entered the pretty park. you wandered aimlessly around before deciding to text sunoo about his whereabouts.

he replied immediately and you carefully tried to walk towards the swings where he was sitting on.

“yn!” he exclaimed with a wide smile on his face as soon as he saw you approach.

he jumped off the swing he was previously sitting on and ran over to you. a smile appeared on your face as the two of you collided in a hug.

perhaps it was a little weird that you were hugging after only knowing one another for a day but you didn’t care.

“oh my god you’re so adorable!” sunoo was now tightly squeezing you and it was getting harder to breath for a second.

“sunoo,”

at your amused laugh sunoo immediately let go and quickly apologised for his sudden approach.

“it’s alright,” you said before the two of you went back to sit on the swings where you talked for hours until it got dark and sunoo walked you home.

“i had a lot of fun. we should definitely hang out again,” you said which made sunoo smile even wider until his eyes turned crescent.

“yes, of course! just text me when and where.”

you quickly hugged goodbye before you went inside to your family while sunoo carefully vanished between the shadows.

NOTE — this was so awkward to write 😭

TAG LIST — @sserafimez , @neohyxn , @smh-anon , @redm4ri , @yourfavoritefreakyhan , @saiewithakatana , @kyuupidwrites , @i-dont-know-me-either , @aestheticsluut , @certainyouthpeanut , @deadgirlwalking3 , @stopeatread , @4imhry , @1-800shutthefuckup , @moonshoon , @tzuyusluv , @j-wyoung , @strwberrydinosaur , @soobiverse , @astrae4 , @ensrfm , @kimipxl, @imasimplol , @vlvtrkii , @enhafika , @maerijw , @arizzu , @dimplewonie , @catryu , @wonyoungsvirus , @haewonluvr , @artstaeh , @softpia , @zzzhoonie, @witzys , @run2seob , @beomgyusonlywife , @st4rfiles , @txtmetonight , @ilovewonyo , @yumilovesloona , @liikno, @ghostiiess , @noonaslvr , @ahnneyong , @ineedaherosavemeenow , @ryomenswife , @wildesreblogs , @sooooob

247 notes · View notes

ofoceansandtombsanew · 2 years

Text

How CSM Characters Love (As Told by Tarot) II

tags: gn!reader, headcanons, spoilers for anime onlys

a/n: the csm anime is finally out and it’s already looking so good! i’m not sure how much of this constitutes as spoiler heavy, but for anime onlys these are characters that haven’t appeared in the anime yet as of posting so i’d skip this post. other than that though, let’s get this tarot show on the road! i’ve already done reze and i’ve done denji, aki, power and makima in another post so enjoy.

angel devil

knight of cups, seven of swords, the emperor, the moon

angel never wanted to be a city mouse, but you make the city mouse life he’s forced to lead bearable. his love for you runs deep and there’s a soft melancholy in how he holds you that you can’t quite explain. there is just one thing holding him back and that’s his fear of being the reason you die. that it won’t matter how careful you are, holding hands through gloves and only sharing light pecks with cloth between your lips. one day he’ll slip up and touch your skin and be the reason your lifespan is shorter than what was originally planned. what if makima uses you as another tactic to keep him in the birdcage she has carefully crafted for him or decides you’re a distraction and dispose of you? how can the angel devil truly promise to himself he’ll protect you if the greatest threat to your life is himself? these thoughts plague him constantly and he wonder if still pursuing the relationship despite that is selfish and if he should let you go if he truly loves you. at the very least, angel wants to stay by your side for as long as this dangerous city mouse life allows. but if push came to shove, he’d abandon it for you. if there is something that would make him consider facing his fears and betraying makima, it would definitely be you.

kobeni

death, eight of swords, two of wands, nine of chalices

love for kobeni is a rebirth. she wasn’t dealt the luckiest hand in life and she always felt trapped by it. even if the key to her escaping the confines of her life was right there, she’d honestly be too afraid to take it. being stuck in a familiar pattern of misery is more comfortable than taking the risks in lands unknown. but loving you is what made her decide to take it and try exploring that unknown. there’s a lot of hiccups in the beginning, changing yourself for the better doesn’t happen over night it takes patience and efforts but to kobeni its worth it. you’re worth it and its worth it to her to change from the self she deems pathetic and becoming a stronger version of herself that can look after herself competently as well as her partner. you both find joys in the little things whether it’s getting ice cream or going to the movie theatres, it’s a simple love.

kisibe

four of wands, the hanged man, seven of wands, ten of pentacles

kishibe’s love is loyal; it perseveres and lasts long. he doesn’t fight against the feelings he has for you, he easily surrenders to the waves. cynical as this man is, he’s warm to the idea of soulmates. or rather, he might say he feels he was born to love you. in spite of the devils and the injuries he sustains, a quick thought of you waiting for him to return home is enough to keep him fighting for tomorrow. if kishibe has his way, he won’t be leaving the devil hunter’s association in a body bag but through retirement to spend the rest of his years with you and any family you make whether it is you and some children or you and a collection of cats and dogs. it won’t be long until he’s on patrol, cigarette in hand when the thought of doing that will cross his mind. perhaps it is time for this old dog to let the next generation handle things instead of making you worry constantly for his wellbeing.

quanxi

temperance, knight of cups, the lovers, three of cups

ignorance is bliss and so is quanxi’s love for you. it doesn’t matter how many lovers she has, she loves them all equally and you’re no exception. you’re all connected, she’ll protect you all with her life. quanxi might not be the best with her words, but you’ll quickly find that her actions speak louder. you can see it in how she recalls details you mentioned about yourself in passing and how she’ll bring you your favorite snack when you’re working, how she somehow manages to remember the preferred drinks of all of lovers on dates without missing a beat. quanxi makes you feel like you’ve gained more than one lover, but three more women for whom your heart has plenty of room. even in this world of devil and fiends, here is happiness to be found in it as long as you know where (and where not) to look. this is the thread that binds.

#look she's writing #headcanons #tarot #chainsaw man x reader #csm x reader #angel devil x reader #kobeni x reader #kishibe x reader #quanxi x reader #oooh i cannot wait to see them all in episodes #i do not apologize for the person i will be when they are animated and voiced #i need more than just shots of them in the op

480 notes · View notes

writefightandflightclub · 3 months

Text

Ride or Die (Santiago “Pope” Garcia x fem!reader): Chapter Six (of 11 - COMPLETED SERIES)

Genre: a LOT of angst, (some) smut, best friends to… lovers?

Warnings: see collated series warnings, here.

Series info: this is a COMPLETED SERIES. All chapters are written and queued. Posting schedule is here (includes series master list).

Author’s note: Hope you like this one. Weirdly it's one of my fave chapters. (I love Frankie, you'll see.) Slightly shorter chapter this time. The angst continues (I’m so sorry... but also I'm really I'm not sorry at all, yk? :P)! As always, I would be super, super grateful for any comments / reblogs / asks you may wish to send my way, and I'm so touched that anyone would even consider reading this far along in the story! ILY :-*

Word count: 3.7k for this part.

Tag list info: will reblog separately tagging those on taglist. You can request to be added to taglist if you are 18+. Send me an ask, please, so I can keep track :)

Santiago watches you go. Feels the violence of you being snatched from his side like a wound.

He feels lost for a moment. Paralysed as he watches you retreating, barging by Frankie and Will and Benny in the doorway; most of the boys - barring Tom- having mobilised downstairs. They are soldiers, after all, and so they can sense a conflict. They look like it too. They look primed: to assess, attack, defend. Defend you. Always was that way. That’s all Santiago ever wanted too.

“Hey. Hey, hey. Come on. What is all this?”. Frankie attempts to soothe as you hasten your approach across the sand, towards the refuge of that doorway. As though Santiago is an earthquake and you must take shelter from him there. “Come on,” he calls out to the two of you, indiscriminately. And then, to Santiago only. “For fuck’s sake, man. You care about each other.”

Santiago can’t move. He desperately wants his feet to move after you but he can’t seem to get them to cooperate. Can’t seem to get any sound of protest to birth from his throat. Can’t seem to bring himself to stop you from walking away. Just like last time. Maybe he thinks he knows what’s better for you, and so he dare not try.

Instead, he watches as Frankie futilely tries to smooth things -to slow you down - but on your approach he must see little chance of reconciliation in the folds and caving of your face, for he lets you barge right by him. You slip clean by Will on the porch too, and just past Will’s broad shoulders, Santiago can see his brother spinning on his heel. Launching himself to follow you back upstairs. To offer you the comfort you deserve after the wounds you didn’t. The wounds he has created by telling you the one thing he’d always feared himself.

That there was no hope for the two of you.

God. He had simply tried to love you, but how could he reach out to you softly when his hands are so lethal? How could he hold you, when all he ever did was hurt?

He huffs a sharp breath out of his nose, cursing at himself under his breath. His heart is hammering in his chest. There is a ringing in his ears. Guilt. Fear. Adrenaline. Anger. Guilt most of all. Santiago watches dissociatively as Frankie beelines across the sands for him, not to comfort, he thinks, but to blame. It’s all he deserves, isn’t it? Maybe, but he feels exposed out here, alone on the sand, so he too mobilises towards the house. His head down and his pace purposeful, face locked in a grimace, as though perhaps he too could somehow slip by unnoticed, despite its guarded perimeter. Even though the whole squad is primed for damage control. Even though he’s flagged as the danger. The wrecking ball, the shell, the strike, threatening to bring this house to its knees.

He’s done worse.

He had wanted better for you.

“I’ve had enough of this bullshit, man,” he spits to Frankie - without looking at his buddy as he rounds on him, attempting to get in his way and slow him down. Santiago doesn’t like to feel caged in. To feel small. Vulnerable. He rasps the palm of his hand down over his mouth and chin. “Fuck.”

Santiago reaches the porch, still ignoring Frankie, and moves to pass Will too. But, his old captain is having none of that. He pushes Santiago back firmly - heel of hand to shoulder. “Why don’t you leave it?” he warns, the words frothing between his teeth. Santiago still does not look up, his face a snarl, trying once more to shoulder barge and bypass his way into the house. “No, no way.” Will stands taller, knocking him back, practically looming over Santiago now.

Santiago looks at him this time, in accusation. He squares off to him, tension writhing along his jaw, Will bearing down on him with all the weight of his bulk and presence and his track record.

“Hey, hey, hey,” Frankie placates from behind him, and Santiago feels the man’s hands settle on his tense, packed shoulders. He quickly shrugs them off. “Let’s take a walk. Let’s take a walk.”

“You fucking kidding me?” Santiago bites, his breath raging through his nose.

“Take a fucking walk, Garcia.” Will orders coolly. The shorter man’s jaw writhes, tension rippling through his body, but he doesn’t plan on going toe to toe with Captain Miller. He knows that wouldn’t end well.

Frankie tries again, planting his hands once more on Santiago’s shoulders and twisting him away from the porch. Santiago still hasn’t looked at the man. He can only feel him there. This quiet, calming presence, reflecting the grotesqueness of own anger back at him. Forcing him to face himself in the mirror. “Let’s take a walk. Come on, hermano. Take a walk.”

Santiago rips his gaze and head away from Will and with an unbecoming grunt begins pacing it down the long strip of beach, adrenalin still piping into his veins. His body shaking, tremoring, and fists clenched by his sides. “Can you believe her? I’m just so… fucking-” He growls.

And still, Frankie is behind him, in his PJs and sliders and just shoving him forward, palms planted on his shoulder blades. “Walk, man. Just fucking walk. Don’t talk. Move your legs.” Santiago tries it one more time, tries to twist around but Frankie just shoves him onward again, keeping pace behind him. He sticks with him, despite the huffed breaths and snipes and everything else. He walks him like a fucking dog until the adrenalin has burnt off. Until Santiago feels only jitters through his weak legs. Until he feels a pit open up inside and swallow him. Until he can carry himself no further away from you. Until he realises that no matter how far he walks he cannot run from himself.

“You cooled off now, huh?” Frankie manages to soothe, even with the bitter lime-wedge bite in his tone. “Okay. Okay.”

Santiago crashes.

“Fuck, Frankie.”It is as though he turns to sand, knees buckling and dropping to a crouch, burying his face into his gently tremoring hands. “Shit.” He scoops up a handful of sand, tossing a tiny grit storm into the air. “Fuuuuucckk.” He crests, and he sags back on to his ass with a sorry thud into the sand, his legs spread and knees drawn up. He rests his elbows on top of them, his head sagging down in between his legs and his fingers lacing behind his neck. He looks like he’s protecting himself from debris. From the aftermath.

To his side, Santiago hears Frankie sigh deeply, and he plonks himself on the floor beside his buddy. Santiago squirms performatively to dismiss the circles Frankie’s broad hand smooth into his shoulder, but he is eminently glad when his friend doesn’t quit. He needs this. Someone who won’t give up on him.

Frankie’s robust voice is a comfort too, yet he can still hear some judgement in it. Knows it is coming. Still, generously, Frankie allows Santiago a moment. A breathing cycle before he must face another onslaught. “Hey. Hey, come on.” He pats his back more firmly, and Santiago just sits, tears piping freely down his cheeks.

There is a groan around a bitten lip, and Santiago finally looks. Finally looks to see Frankie softly shake his head from side to side. Something is coming. Santiago can guess what. It’s somehow always his fault, isn’t it, and so he should expect the onslaught? Frankie’s voice is deceptively soft, but he always strikes in stealth. That’s where he does his best work. He applies another couple of slow, forceful pats to Santiago’s back, before scrunching his hand into his t-shirt and jostling him, perhaps as though he could shake some sense into him once and for all. “I don’t get it, man,” Frankie intones. “Isn’t she everything you ever wanted?”

Santiago closes his eyes, the final smattering of tears beading in his long lashes. “I don’t know why I can’t…” His shoulders tug up as he sucks in a steadying breath and promptly releases it again, digging his closed fists into the sand before him. “I don’t. I just…” His eyebrows leap up in distress as he wrestles with the complexity. “I want to. I want to, but she’s better off without me. She doesn’t deserve all of my bullshit.”

“I don’t think she’s once tolerated any bullshit, hermano, least of all yours.”

Santiago sees what his buddy is trying to do, but Santiago shakes his head forlornly from side to side. “I wouldn’t be good for her. Wouldn’t be good enough…”

Frankie clicks his tongue. “She wants you. Don’t patronise her by thinking you know better.”

“No. It’s too late. I fucked it. I… Shit.”

Frankie’s voice drops an octave. “I’ve been patient. But I’m tiring of your fucking excuses, man.” He does; he sounds tired. Everyone, always so tired of him. “Look ahead with me for a minute, alright?” Frankie gestures with a sweep of his arm through the air, as though Santiago could fix on a vision of the future before him. Instead, all he sees is a black, rolling sea, fringed with frayed white lace. A round disk of mellow light shining down through the night. “What do you see in your life? Christ - what’s your endgame? Getting shot in some fucking ditch?” Frankie swats Santiago’s arm with the back of his hand when he receives no reply, the man instead looking wistfully out over the water, his eyes as soft as the moon. “I asked you a question. So answer me. What’s your endgame? If you can’t even say it aloud, I can’t fucking help you.”

“Her,” Santiago breathes, without looking away from the water. “Her. You know it is.” He scratches nervously over the stubble on his cheek. “I’m so in love, man. So gone for her I can’t fucking think straight.”

“Right,” Frankie nods firmly, looking at Santiago unblinkingly from beneath his lashes. “So what the fuck are you going to do about it?”

“I can’t just leave everything, Cat. Walk away and-”

“-Can’t you?” Frankie smacks the back of his hand definitively against his own open palm. “I did. Tom. Will. She did.”

Santiago actually scoffs then, as if something is funny. “Yeah. Yeah, Cat,” he concedes, pushing himself up from his hunched position in the sand, voice oddly taut. “You did.” Frankie stands with him, his chin raising as he defends from whatever low blow Santiago has brewing, a healthy dose of cynicism dripping from him already. “You did, and fucking look at you. You’re all a goddamn mess. A hot steaming pile of shit.” His eyes tighten with resolve, a solemnity shrouding his sharp features. “I can’t do that to her.”

“Fuck you, man,” Frankie revs. “I’m good. I have a little girl on the way.”

“Oh, please. Give me a break.” Santiago slices his hand through the air. “Tom’s eyes are fucking hollow. Selling fucking condos?” Frankie’s eyes flash with a rage and a sadness that seem to cancel each other out at first, and so he can all but listen as his buddy winds up his tirade. “Will - fucking Captain Miller - this burly bastard walking on eggshells because he’s afraid of flipping that switch and blacking out again. He choked a man out, no flag on his shoulder. Lost the love of his life. I thought those two were it, man. You’re scraping by on lines and don’t think we haven’t noticed.” Frankie’s head ducks down then, and he lets out an undone noise, something between a protest and a whimper. “Fuck, even Benny. The fucker gets beat to shit for fun. Do we sound fucking healthy to you, Cat? Is that how good it is getting out?”

Frankie’s breaths are turbulent now. Santiago can see the familiar look of restraint on the man. Nostrils flaring, brow drawing down. The dark, formidable edge behind Frankie’s quiet exterior barely kept in check. He meets his gaze and he almost looks battle-drunk. On the offensive and ready to do whatever it takes to get off the backfoot. But, he reins it in. Swallows it down. Until all he delivers is a march forward, pacing Santiago backward, his finger jabbed into his chest and his words snarling directly against his cheek. “Fuck you, pendejo. You think you’re any better than us?”

Santiago lets him have it. He’s not sure he has any fight left anyway. Isn’t sure he’d mind anymore if he got punched down into the dirt.

“No. No, I don’t. That’s exactly my point.” Frankie searches his face, the knife in his keen eyes blunting to a wet sheen as Santiago lays it out in a small, fractured voice. “If you can’t do it, how in the hell can I make a go of it? I’m not the best of you. I’m so fucked up. I’ve got all this… fucking baggage. My mom. The nightmares. Lorea. The blood on my hands. I can’t be ‘it’ for her. I can’t. Because she deserves better. Deserves the fucking world, man.”

Frankie clamps his hands down on Santiago’s shoulders, drawing back to look him squarely in the eyes. “Guess what? You’ll be fucked up in or out, trust me. But you may as well be fucked up with fewer bullets grazing your vitals daily, no?”

Santiago shakes his head as if getting “out” is simply impossible. “I’m doing something, man,” he mutters, as if he can’t muster the strength to believe his own line anymore. As if all his old mantras are dead. Washed away in the sand. “I’m trying to do something down there.”

“This mother’s homeland bullshit again?” Frankie really does sound eminently tired. Trust Santiago to hit on an argument within an argument, right? He can always twist just about everything. “Wake up call, Pope. You can’t fix it. You don’t even care if you fix it. You just want to keep fucking running.”

Santiago tears away from Frankie’s grip, pacing in a small circle. “Fuck you.”

Frankie raises his palms in the air. As if he really is about to give up. What does he do if every one of his best friends gives up on him, Santiago thinks? “Fine. Whatever. That’s your shit, not mine. But look at it this way. You tell me you can’t walk away from that life. Look me in the eye and tell me this. You okay walking away from her?”

“She walked away,” Santiago spits, even though he scarce believes it any longer. Yes, you might have walked away. But he was the one who ran. “She was the one who-”

“-I don’t care!” Frankie yells, quickly losing patience, waving his palms of surrender around. “I’m tired of this. Shit - I do not care about these little technicalities. Yeah. Okay. She left, right? She moved on, Santiago. Moved along the road. Life is moving on. Don’t blame her because you’re standing still, cabrón.”

Santi shifts his weight from foot to foot, swipes his palm back and forth over his mouth. “Fuck you, man, standing still my ass.”

“Oh, what?” Frankie retaliates. “You can come at me but I can’t come at you?” Santiago’s expression is stark, all straight lines and angles and shadowed planes. “You stayed and for what? To spite her? To prove yourself right? Jesus, Pope. Lorea has you chasing your tail. You’re going round in circles. You fuck your problems away but you wake up and, hey, guess what? They’re still there. Still a big steaming stack of turds in the corner.” Santiago curses under his breath, spitting insults and deflections, but Frankie is undeterred. “And the worst thing is, you could fucking have it! You could have everything you want! What the rest of us wouldn’t give for that, pendejo.”

“Right, yeah. Thanks for that assessment. I’m just a fucking chump, is that it?”

“Hey, look. It’s you. I’m just saying what I see.” Frankie’s mouth curls into a tentative smile, yet the blow dealt by Santiago’s stony expression manages to dull it.

“Asshole.”

“Whatever. I’m done helping. You don’t want her? Fine. You don’t have to change a thing. Can drive her away all on your own, I’m sure.”

A hard swallow bobs down Santiago’s corded neck, and he chews on some words before offering them up. “And if I do? Want her?”

“If you do? Then, Christ. Stop moaning about it like a little bitch and do something about it.” Santiago’s face sours all over again, and Frankie holds his hands up once more in surrender. “I’ve tried the softly, softly approach, man. We’ve all got our own shit going on. It’s past time for a fucking intervention with you.” Santiago writhes his jaw, but there is no further protest from him. Eventually, he concedes with the barest of nods. Frankie braces his arm on his shoulder, his expression growing wistful. “I just want to see you happy, man. I gotta know that some of us can still be happy. Of all of us? She fucking deserves it. And, look. You deserve it too, alright?”

Tears ball in Santiago’s eyes. It’s been a long time since he felt like he deserved to be happy. A very long time. He concedes, with the barest of nods. “It’s… I’m….” He chucks out a breath, frustrated at his lack of ability to get his words out, his mouth and brows pinching together.

“What? Spit it out.” Frankie gives his shoulder an encouraging jostle.

Santiago looks him in the eyes, about to level with him. Perhaps upon seeing the vulnerability there, the pilot’s eyes soften. “I’m fucking… scared, man.”

Frankie’s eyes tighten with a wistful mirth, and his hand slips up to curl around the back of Santiago’s neck in a brotherly embrace, emotion flooding the cracks in his grit-flecked voice, making it warm and robust. “Santiago. Idiota. The way she looks at you, man? You don’t have a damn thing to be scared about.”

Tears glisten in Santiago’s eyes once more, and Frankie draws him into a tight, enclosing hug. Santiago lets himself collapse into it, wrapping his arms around Frankie’s broad, slender torso. After a few moments, and an extra squeeze for good measure, Frankie draws back, still cupping the nape of his buddy’s neck.

“Cool down and come back to the house okay?” Frankie encourages, eyes needling Santiago for an answer until he nods. “Look. You okay?” He nods again, more adamantly this time as Frankie soothes him, dipping his chin down and raising his brows to hammer home the seriousness of his inquiry. “Yeah? Not gonna do anything stupid? Santiago?”

“Yes. Yeah. I’ll be okay.”

Frankie drops his arms, evidently feeling somewhat reassured. Yet, with Santiago, the fact that he promises not to do anything stupid bears repeating. “What are you gonna do?”

“I’ll take a walk,” Santiago nods, his face drawn down into stern lines. “I’ll come back to the house.” He regards his friend, his eyes still painted with concern.

Santiago frowns. Scratches the back of his neck. “Listen. You okay?”

“Yeah,” Frankie grins, an element of deflection in it. “I’ll be okay.” He bumps Santiago in the shoulder with his fist. “Fuck you though.”

“Yeah. Sounds about right. Listen, we gotta talk soon, huh?”

The smile drops from Frankie’s face as he contemplates being the one placed under scrutiny. “Yep.”

Santiago shuffles from foot to foot. “Will you…”

“Yeah,” Frankie reassures. “I’ll make sure she’s alright.”

“Love you, man,” Santiago calls, as Frankie turns on his heel.

He calls back over his shoulder, walking a few backward paces. He comes to a halt a few metres from his friend. “Yeah, I know. Love you too.”

“And… I’m sorry.” He had no right to drag Frankie’s shit into this.

“Yeah. I know that too,” Frankie revs. “Not as sorry as you’re gonna be if you ever say shit like that to me again. I’m too old for this bullshit, man.” Still, Frankie shrugs, indicating no hard feelings. “Anything else you want to say for yourself?” He juts his chin up. Watches Santiago struggle with the words, but allows him the time to pattern them out.

“She said she wants to fucking marry me. Can you believe that? But… I’m not that guy, Cat. I’m not the picket fence guy. I…” A frown layers over his already stern face, and he gazes intently at a spot in the sand, mid-way between them. “I don’t want to be the guy who… ruins her life.”

Frankie inhales deeply, letting the whole gust of breath go in one, puffing it out through his pouted mouth. He looks far too tired for this. “Fuck, I don’t know man. You’ve got so many hang-ups I could use you as a coat rack. But that doesn’t mean you’re not loved. And that’s enough, no? Picket fence doesn’t suit you? I don’t fucking know.” Frankie shrugs, palms tipped up towards the sky. “Shit. Have whatever kinda perimeter you want. Just -for Christ’s sake - make sure you put her on the right side of it. Don’t keep shutting her out.”

“That’s some deep shit, Cat.”

“Not just a pretty face, cariño.”

Santi grins.

“Now, are you done? I gotta fucking sleep.”

Santiago nods, and watches as Frankie begins to turn away again. But, there must be something in Santiago’s face which causes him to think better of it. Instead, he surges towards the man, cupping the back of his head in his hand and planting a kiss to the middle of his forehead. The frown lingering there disappears. “I love you, asshole.”

There are several things which bear repeating when it comes to Santiago.

“I know.” Santi stares intently at his feet.

And, finally satisfied, apparently, Frankie seems willing to leave his buddy to it - granting him a moment to contemplate things alone. To contemplate you. To contemplate his words of advice.

Santiago feels grateful for Frankie. Even feels bolstered for a moment, until he realises that what he’d assured him might not be true. That even a love that feels too abundant to bear? That it is not always enough. After all, you’d told him as much, hadn’t you?

His love wasn’t enough. He wasn’t enough.

Frankie walks away.

Santiago will have to decide if he’s going to do the same.

Or maybe he’ll run.

After all. Isn’t that all he’s good for?

#santiago pope garcia x reader #oscar isaac #ride or die series #triple frontier #santiago pope garcia

104 notes · View notes