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roosterr · 3 months

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i've known war

john 'soap' mactavish x gn!reader wc: 9.3k (whoops) summary: you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. warnings: established relationship, angst and sadness and depression, hurt/comfort, canon typical violence, graphic description of injury, mentions of torture, eventual happy ending, military and medical inaccuracies, pls ignore any plot holes i beg

requested here! follow up to love you from afar, but can be read as a standalone. im so sorry this took me so long to write lmao.

it always feels like the first time when you kiss him. even now, years down the line, the sparks, the warmth, the daze that you leave him in; he truly believes it will never get old.

the way you look, standing in the open doorway of the helicopter, silhouetted against the bright blue sky, it makes his head feel so fuzzy he almost forgets why you're all here in the first place.

it's the sweet sound of his name passing your lips that pulls him back to the present, your voice sending his stomach fluttering.

"earth to johnny," you chuckle, turning to face him and resting your weight against one side of the open door, "what're you thinking so hard about?"

he can't help the smile that breaks out at the sound of your laughter. "just you." johnny replies, closing the small distance between you and snaking an arm around your waist. you smile as he leans in closer, murmuring low in your ear, "and, how i cannae wait to get ye home."

you laugh again, placing a hand on his chest but not quite pushing him back. "we've got a job to do first."

he takes your hand in his, running his thumb over your knuckles. "then we'd better get a move on, eh?"

"i'll race you," you grin at him, haloed by the light of the sun so beautifully he has to snap himself out of his reverence to respond.

"oh, you're on."

perhaps it was slightly irresponsible the way he was rushing the others along for his own gain, but within a matter of minutes they're breaching the facility and well on their way to being done with this.

it's only when he's stalking along a dimly lit corridor that he slows down. something was bothering him, an off feeling in the back of his mind that he just can't ignore.

before he can think about it any further, a boom shakes the walls, filling the air with dust and obscuring his vision even more. it was close enough to start a faint ringing in his ears, coming from back the way he came; where he'd split up with ghost and, more importantly, you.

he should stay on target, continue with what they're here to do, his job – but what if you were in trouble? if there's a chance you need his help, he couldn't risk it. it takes less than a second for him to turn back, making the decision to check on what caused the explosion before continuing.

quietly stalking back down the corridor, it takes him slightly longer to register the fact that he hasn't heard anything over the radio; no updates, no clever remarks from ghost, nothing. they worked not fifteen minutes ago, just after you'd split up and checked them. surely nothing could've happened in such a short space of time?

he does his best to push through the sinking feeling that tries to drag him down, but it's stubborn, creeping in from the corners of his mind.

he reaches where he left you in half the time it took him to walk away, the intersection of two corridors just as empty as the rest of the halls. he points his flashlight in the direction you went, and the feeling in his gut gets worse.

something glinting in the light catches his attention. the end of the corridor is collapsed, when it definitely hadn't been before, but it's what lies in front of the rubble that he zeroes in on. partially obscured by the layer of filth and blood coating it, there's no mistaking it when he kneels down, dropping his rifle to the ground beside him, and carefully takes the metal in his trembling hand.

it's a pair of id tags.

he numbly calls your name. it bounces off the walls and echoes back to him. the blood runs through the creases of his hand, staining the flesh. the letters of your name are clear through the dirt.

no. you can't be gone.

he looks up to the rubble, shrouded in darkness, back down to your tags, back up to the rubble, and there's a hand just visible under the concrete that looks sickeningly like yours and–

he tears his gaze away, back down to your tags. the chain is snapped, like it had been ripped off in a hurry, as if you'd known you were going to die and wanted to make sure he would find them–

no, no no. you're not dead. you can't be. he just saw you fifteen minutes ago, he bumped his helmet against yours in lieu of a kiss like he always did before you parted ways. you were fine and you were smiling at him. it was only fifteen minutes, you were right here, he can still hear your voice taunting him about the race between you, it was only fifteen minutes–

a heavy hand comes down on johnny's shoulder, startling him out of his panicked daze and instinctively he jumps up and swings his arm at whoever stuck up on him.

ghost catches his forearm easily, his eyes moving between your tags clutched in johnny's fist to the wreckage behind him. when he meets johnny's watery eyes again, the coldness in his gaze seems to soften as he arrives at the same conclusion.

the ringing in johnny's ears hasn't left. in fact, it's gotten worse.

"we– we gotta find 'em," johnny's breath comes out shallow and ragged, the panic slowly rising in his chest through the initial numbness. "fucks sake, they cannae– we– we–"

"johnny." ghost interrupts his sputtering short, bracing both hands on his biceps and giving him a gentle, grounding shake. "...come on."

"no! simon we–" his breath catches in his throat, heart constricting painfully beneath his sternum as he grips the front of ghost's vest in desperation. why was ghost giving up so easily? didn't he care? didn't he want to find you?

ghost lowers his gaze, tearing away from the distraught expression on the sergeant's face. "they're gone, soap."

"shut the fuck up!" johnny growls, despair seeping into his voice with every second that passes without you. he tries to shake ghost's hands off, but he doesn't budge. "ye dinnae ken that! they're still here somewhere, we cannae leave without 'em!"

he's gripping your tags like a lifeline, the metal searing against his palm and heavier than anything else he'd ever carried. he shouldn't have them, they shouldn't be in his hand, they should be around your neck, you should be here, with him, and not…

it's too much. his knees give out from under him and, despite ghost's firm grip on his shoulders, he sinks to the floor with his head in his hands.

"simon, fuck– please…" it's a whisper, under his breath, but he knows ghost heard from how he crouches down beside him, laying an arm over his heaving shoulders as he steadily begins to sob.

it's not real. it can't be real. he wants this to be a nightmare so fucking badly, but the pain in his chest is far too real, his tears burning tracks down his face, the weight of your absence pressing down on him and crushing him under the pressure.

he barely notices when price and gaz appear in the hall ahead of them, just about registering the sound of the debris crunching under their boots as they approach. the pair don't say anything as they take in the scene, looking down with furrowed brows at where johnny and ghost are crouched on the floor.

the captain opens his mouth to ask, but ghost cuts him of with a solemn shake of his head.

words are exchanged, but johnny doesn't hear them. his head feels impossibly light, an expanding pressure beneath his temples that makes it hard to think. the ringing keeps getting worse.

the sound of gunfire makes it through the fog. gaz and ghost each take one of his arms, hauling him to his feet and essentially dragging him after the captain as they make their way back out of the building. he can't bring himself to fight them. he blinks, and finds himself strapped into his seat, the one next to him hauntingly empty.

price is talking into the radio, to laswell he assumes, but johnny doesn't register anything he says – anything except the last two words:

"...one k.i.a."

the air is thick with a kind of tension he's never felt before, a shroud of numbness that he can't seem to shake. when they land it follows them, seeping into the air on base and pushing down on whoever crosses their path. none of them have to ask to understand what happened.

johnny keeps your tags, clutches them close to his heart, and practically bites the head off of anyone who tries to take them from his white-knuckled grip, even as he gets checked out in the medical wing. his quietness puts the medics on edge, he can tell. something about the way he doesn't even flinch when they cleanse his wounds, the polar opposite to his his usual talkative nature, it tells them there's no use trying to console him. they try to convince him to let the tags go, but he doesn't acknowledge their words.

the broken chain stays firmly wrapped around his palm until he's staring down his own hollow face in the bathroom mirror. he'd turned the sink on fifteen minutes ago to wash the blood away, the water so hot it fogs up his reflection, but he can't bring himself to put his hands under the stream.

because it's your blood, not just the usual grime from missions. if he washes it off, he's washing you off, and he doesn't want to do that, no matter how disgusting it is.

there's a knock at the door, and only then does he realise how long he's been staring at the red that decorates his hands. he still makes no effort to move.

despite his lack of response, gaz opens the door and meets his eyes in the mirror. there's a pause as he waits for johnny to say something, but when he only lets the silence go on, he takes it upon himself to approach.

"soap…" he utters, brows tilting in concern watching his friend continue to stare absently into the mirror. with a deep sigh, kyle takes his empty fist and pries his fingers from his palm. johnny's eyes gravitate to the fresh blood that wells up in the crescent indents. watching the red droplets fall, disappearing into the running water, the pain finally registering in his mind when kyle presses a cloth to his hand.

the sting of the hot water is there, a distant feeling as johnny allows him to wash the blood away, never saying a word as he watches kyle's efforts, like an observer of his own form, right there but looking in from the outside.

kyle reaches for your tags, but his fingers barely brush the metal before johnny is shoving him back with a rush of anger that happens so fast he doesn't even have time to process his own reaction.

with a thud, kyle's back hits the wall and for a moment neither of them dare move. they watch each other in silence, wide-eyed shock mirrored in both their expressions.

"i…" i'm sorry. the words catch in his chest, falling into the void there and never escaping for gaz to hear. he can't let him touch your tags. it's the only part of you he has left. "...don't touch 'em."

kyle squeezes his eyes shut, breathing a deep sigh through his nose. "alright, i'm sorry, i won't touch them." his tone is low and careful as he steps closer again, hands open so johnny can see them. he feels like a feral animal, being coaxed to let kyle approach. "but you need to rest, mate."

the weeks blend together after that day. some days johnny feels like the shock will never wear off, like he's living on autopilot. others, it all comes crashing down on him and even dragging himself out of bed becomes a challenge.

his dreams are plagued with images of you, lifeless and cold. it stops him from sleeping most nights, but others are filled with memories of your life together playing on loop, a constant reminder of what he can never have again.

the room you used to share is always filled with flowers; gardenias, gladioli, forget-me-nots, and anything else he sees that he thinks you'd like. when they wilt, and eventually die, he presses the petals in the pages of his sketchbook, keeping them in a box next to the very first flowers he ever got you, the memories preserved forever under your – his bed.

that same sketchbook that's filled with page after page of your image, some from the multitude of pictures he keeps of you, and when he inevitably runs out of references, he draws you from memory. it gets to the point where he can't pick up a pencil without your face haunting him; you always did love his art, even if he didn't think it was any good.

he knows he's not the only one taking it hard. the others are different too; gaz is quieter, something more serious in his eyes now. the captain doesn't appear moved on the surface, and neither does ghost, but when they look at the empty seat where you used to sit, the memory of you is evident in the way their shoulders deflate ever so slightly.

once word spreads about what exactly happened, the never-ending condolences and pitying looks from the people around base gets old very quickly. they tell him how they're so sorry for his loss and what happened to you was so tragic, and it shouldn't annoy him as much as it does, but he can't help the anger that bubbles up in his chest when they talk about you.

he doesn't want to hear it, and every time he has to listen to their pitying comments it only makes him resent them more. they didn't know you, they didn’t care, they probably didn't even know who you were before you died. they could never hope to understand what you meant to him, to the taskforce, the gap in their team that you left behind.

it's when someone suggests moving on from you that it all finally bubbles over.

six months later, a long time since that day but somehow no time at all. he'd gone out for drinks for the first time in a while, after some gentle coercion from simon, along with another group of soldiers staying on base.

he didn't even want to go, not really, but something in him knew he couldn't carry on like he had been. he needed some form of normalcy, one night where he can pretend everything is fine and you're just waiting for him back home, to just forget.

it didn't take him long to realise going out with them was a mistake. almost immediately he was dragged into a conversation with a few guys from another unit, and despite his many attempts they just wouldn't leave him be.

somehow, after about an hour of mindless chatter, they land on the topic of their love lives and recent conquests, and johnny immediately felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. he wanted to slip away, avoid what he knew was coming at any cost, but he couldn't get away fast enough.

one of them brings up your name, they all look to him with a sort of curiosity that makes his skin crawl. they ask him if he's planning on staying hung up on you forever. johnny says it's only been six months. one of them laughs and tells him it's just sad, and from the looks of it you weren't anything special.

johnny smashes a glass over his head. price benches him for a few weeks after that.

it's hell, being left behind, alone, while the others went on like usual, and truthfully he starts to resent them all, bit by bit from the first time he's left on the tarmac. it felt like they didn't care, that johnny's heart, his life, his soul has changed but they carried on without looking back once. he isolates and shuts them out in a fit of misplaced anger, building the walls around his heart higher and higher and letting that resentment fester.

the day of your funeral brings it all crashing down. after all those months of waiting, johnny didn't even make it more than five lines into the speech he'd prepared before he's breaking down and stumbling out the side door in a hyperventilating mess. simon follows behind like his shadow, sitting down with him when he slides down the wall with a hand clutching his chest. he cries into simon's shoulder for rest of the service, releasing all the pent up anguish he'd been trying to keep inside in a catharsis he didn't realise he needed.

when they get back to base the next morning, johnny’s practically begging to be allowed back in the field. he found himself missing the chaos, the unpredictability of the battlefield was where he was in his element. this job was how you met, how you got together, how you lived. he never felt closer to you than when he was out in the field with adrenaline pumping through his veins.

it takes some convincing, but price gives in and everything feels like it's back to normal. missions are quieter than they'd ever been, but johnny finds it doesn't bother him anymore. he feels your presence by his side like the sun on his back, always with him, like his guardian angel.

it's six more months before anything changes.

in the back of the helicopter, a few minutes out from the landing site, an oddly comforting sense of déjà vu washes over him. the bright blue expanse of the sky, the warmth of the sun on his skin, he almost feels that if he turned to his left, he'd see you sitting there with that same smile lighting up your face.

his fingers tighten around your tags.

"you watchin', bonnie?" he presses his lips to the cool metal, feeling your name under his skin as he mumbles to himself. his gaze finds the roof of the helicopter, and even without looking he knows the others are watching him, that familiar solemn look on their faces.

they were doing this for you. everything johnny did was for you. he puts your tags safely away in the pocket if his vest closest to his heart.

the helicopter jolts as it lands, and with no more than a second's hesitation he's shooting up from his seat, a renewed energy flooding his body to the tips of his fingers. they step out into the biting air, a chill than not even the afternoon sun could stave off, and quickly begin their march into the small facility.

"you two, take that side. gaz, with me." price commands, and with a sharp nod from the three of them, they split up and begin their canvassing. they were here for intel, but there was no guarantee they were alone, despite the emptiness of the halls they move through.

their footsteps echo off the walls, only the distant howling of the wind outside to accompany them. the hairs on the back of johnny's neck were on end, an unease setting off alarm bells in the back of his mind following behind ghost.

the déjà vu from earlier isn't comforting anymore. he doesn't feel you watching over him, and the feeling only gets stronger as they approach a doorway ahead, bathed in a red light.

ghost pauses in the entrance, looking back at johnny and waiting for his affirming nod before pushing forward. the room is empty, the same as the rest of the building, save for the table sitting against the far wall.

there's something else there, he notices as he creeps closer to get a better look. a frown darkens his expression. it's a laptop, untouched and central on the table, a strange contrast to the almost methodical emptiness around it.

"oi, check this." johnny calls, turning around as ghost stalks over with a similar confusion on his face.

"that what we're here for?" he asks, examining the laptop with a deep frown casting shadow over his eyes.

"looks like it." johnny replies, slowly and carefully picking it up as his frown deepens. he was half expecting it to somehow blow up, but when he lifts the screen it lights up to the desktop with no issue. "that's convenient."

"very convenient..." ghost grunts, jerking his head in the direction of the door and speaking into the radio as he walks ahead of johnny. "price, we've got it. headin' to exfil now."

back on base a few hours later, the four of them with the addition of laswell sit around the table in a meeting room with the doors firmly shut, eyes locked onto the laptop with rapt tension as gaz opens the only file they could recover from the device.

the video starts abruptly with 'the mask' – the pretentious alias of man that heads the organisation they've been steadily eliminating all this time – in front of the camera, the dingy room behind him barely lit, the walls splattered with what johnny could only assume was blood.

"i trust that my message has found you well, task force one-four-one." his voice comes through the speakers, crackly and distorted by the low quality recording. "you have been relentless in your pursuit of us, and i applaud you for your efforts, but it's time to put an end to this."

johnny looks back at price, watching as his expression hardens and his fingers dig into his arms where they're crossed over his chest. it's obvious they've been set up, but it's too late to be concerned with that now. the problem now is how they're going to continue knowing the enemy has information on them that they shouldn't have.

the sound of something being dragged brings his attention back to the video, facing the screen again to see another masked man dumping a person with a bag over their head onto a chair in the centre of the room.

"i have something i believe you will be interested in." the chuckle is audible in his voice even beneath the mask and through the screen.

their wrists and ankles are tied together, and if it weren't for the laboured rise and fall of their chest, johnny wouldn't be sure if they were even alive.

"fuck– a hostage?" price spits, and even without looking he knows laswell is already working on finding a location, if the sound of her rapidly typing is any indication.

"something very… precious to you."

the figure moves to stand behind the person in the chair and yanks the bag from their head. he grabs their jaw and forces them to look up, a sickening laugh meeting johnny's ears as they make eye contact with the camera.

it's…

it's you.

you're beaten and bruised and covered head to toe in blood, but it's undoubtedly you when the faceless man yanks your head up.

johnny's sure his heart stops.

you're alive. you've been alive all this time. in the hands of a terrorist, and within an inch of your life, but…

you're alive.

"drop your investigation of us, and i will let them live." the masked man stalks back around to your side, still holding your jaw in a vice grip. the way you cower, as much as you can with that man's filthy hands on you, it breaks something in johnny. how long have you been in their hands, how long have you been abused by them?

how long have you been waiting for him?

he feels sick to his stomach, but he can't tear his eyes away. the lacerations on your face, the endless bruises littering your skin – when he spots the ones around your neck, he has to swallow down the bile – and how you just seem so tired, barely even fighting to keep your eyes open.

the masked man looks down to you again, pausing as he directs you to look at him through what seems like a black eye. the five of them watch, frozen by shock or anger or both, as the man rears his hand back and slaps you across the face so hard your head whips in the other direction. a pained, defeated sound escapes you, and johnny’s sure a knife to the chest would hurt less.

"do not disappoint me, captain price, or your sergeant will regret it."

the video cuts to black.

the sight of your face is burned into johnny's retinas, every time he blinks your features are there, dripping in your own blood, the only thing he can see.

"kate, tell me you can find this." price growls behind him, his words sounding distant to johnny's ears.

she hums distractedly. "working on it."

their conversation doesn't register, floating in one ear and straight out the other. you're alive. he can get you back, he can hold you in his arms again. it's like his prayers have been answered for once in his life, and it may be some cruel trick from god to find you like this but johnny finds himself praying his thanks anyway.

"johnny…?" simon lays a hand on his shoulder, turning him in his chair to make worried eye contact with his shell-shocked expression. it jolts him out of his thoughts, the energy of the room a controlled kind of frantic as he comes back down to earth.

"that's– it's them, they're–" johnny sputters, gripping ghost's forearm with an absent desperation in his glassy eyes, "simon, they're alive."

he can't stop thinking about how empty your expression looked, the way you didn't have any fight left, and the gravity of what's been happening to you since the moment he lost you slowly creeps up on him.

have you given up hope of them finding you?

"we'll get 'em back, soap, listen to me," price drops a heavy, grounding hand on his other shoulder, halting his spiralling train of thought, "they're comin' home." his voice is resolute, no room for argument where he speaks it almost like a command.

johnny can only nod.

his head is still light as more rushed conversation happens around him. simon's hand is still on his shoulder, and that might be the only reason he hasn't completely fallen apart yet, but the thread is pulling taught enough to snap. his nails carve dents into his palms but he doesn't have the mind to unfurl them.

"sir, we've got a hit." gaz speaks up from where he's leaned over kate's shoulder, a determined glint in his eye when he meets the captain's gaze. johnny’s head snaps in his direction, his pulse quickening with every word that sparks new hope in his chest. "two hundred klicks northeast of where we found the laptop."

"good work, you two," price is pacing back and forth, scratching his beard with a calculating look on his face. they watch him for a moment, waiting for his command on what their next move will be, but johnny finds his patience wearing incredibly thin.

"the fuck we waitin' for? let's get out there'n go after the wee bastards!" he growls, his narrowed gaze darting between price and the others as he steadily grows more and more restless.

simon shakes his head from beside him, "hold your horses."

"this is delicate, we have to do this one right." price pauses, his eyes losing their hardness as he meets johnny's desperate face. "i know how much this means to you, but you're too close to this, soap."

the pause that follows that is so thick with tension it makes it hard to breath. a boiling type of rage bubbles up in his chest, extending to every trembling limb and turning his vision red. there was no way in hell he wasn't going to be there for you every step of the way when – not if – they rescued you.

"ye can get yersel' right tae fuck!" he spits, his face contorted with anger as he shoots up from his chair and points an accusatory finger at the captain. "that's too far, price, ye cannae keep me outta this!"

"johnny, sit down." simon warns, using the hand still on his shoulder to put some space between him and price, but johnny doesn't budge; this was far too important.

"yer aff yer heid, both of ye's! if ye won't let me come, i'll go mysel', ye fuckin' hear?" he growls, shaking free of simon's hand. his glare travels between him and price, hands wound into fists at his sides.

the air turns heavy as they stare each other down. if price thinks he'll back down on this, johnny would love nothing more than to prove him wrong.

he's moments away from meeting his fist to price's face when gaz stands up and gets between them. "that's his other half, sir. respectfully, he deserves to be part of this." he reasons, giving price a firm look and a small nod to johnny. "you'd be the same in his position."

the tension is palpable. he watches over gaz's shoulder as the captain deliberates, clearly having an internal battle over the decision, but eventually he sighs and fixes johnny with a stern look.

price closes the distance between them, patting gaz on the arm as he passes. "screw your head on, mactavish. we only get one shot at this, i need to know i can trust you not to fuck it up."

a spark of hope makes johnny's heart race, and he gives price a single resolute nod of confirmation. "i won't, sir."

laswell stands and walks around the table to stand beside price, a similarly firm expression. "we have to play this carefully. they wanted us to find that laptop, i have no doubt they wanted us to find where they are too."

"so what's our angle?" gaz asks.

laswell and price share a look.

"this has to be off the books, there's no way we'll get clearance for this." laswell answers, her expression turning noticeably darker, looking over to price as she continues, "if we want them back alive, we'll have to act fast. that means we're on our own."

the captain nods with no hesitation. "we are getting my sergeant back. i don't care how we have to do it."

they're loading into the back of a helo not even an hour later. the five of them, along with two field medics and the pilot, with the strict instructions in johnny's head to bring you home or to not come back at all.

there's only one coherent thought racing through his mind for the entire; you. getting you back, taking you home, finding the man that took you away from him – and hurt you – and making him pay.

he fishes your tags out of his pocket and presses them to his lips in a lingering kiss, just like he always does. soon, he thinks, it would be you he'd be kissing, not just a remnant of you.

the flight passes by so quickly it's almost as if he'd blinked and they were landing again.

the air is glacial as they ready themselves, preparing for the mask to put up a fight that they fully intend to win. the plan was decided on during the journey; kate and ghost would provide support from a distance while price, gaz, and johnny would confront the bastard head on. his focus is razor sharp, marching through the trees and underbrush, blood rushing in his ears and jaw clenched painfully tight.

the sky is just as strikingly blue as the day he lost you.

bring you home, or don't come back.

they reach a break in the trees, surrounding the small facility they tracked the video to that looked more like a derelict warehouse than a base. either way, the dark figure of their target is visible against the brick wall, surrounded by a number of his own soldiers – johnny counts six as he, price, and gaz make themselves known coming through the treeline. they share a quick look; they know how this will end.

"well met, captain," the mask calls, slowing to a stop and leaving a few metres of space between himself and the three of them, "will you make the right choice, or will your sergeant suffer for your pride, i wond–"

his monologue is cut short by a shot from the darkness of the treeline and lodging mercilessly into the base of his throat. his deadweight hits the ground with a thud that echoes, and in less than a second bullets are flying.

soap tightens his grip on his gun, raising it to glare down the sights and firing at the soldier nearest to him and dropping him with one well placed bullet to the leg and another to the face once he was on the floor.

another shot from the treeline drops one more; four left.

gaz and price take out another two between them in a similar fashion to soap, leaving two still standing – one of whom was advancing fast with the barrel of his gun pointed at soap while the other backed away.

one more shot rings out from the trees and one more body falls, but the last hostile was far too close for comfort now, johnny had no choice but to tackle him to the ground, narrowly avoiding being shot himself on the way down.

a few seconds pass as they wrestle on the ground, both trying desperately to gain the upper hand but falling just short because of the other. from his peripheral soap can see price running to his aid, but his momentary distraction allowed his assailant to take the upper hand and roll on top of him.

hands constrict around his neck, cutting off his airflow, but a well timed shot from price sends him falling over sideways, sputtering blood from the wound in his side.

soap heaves and cough, pulling air back into his lungs and glaring at the body of the man who almost got the better of him. this only meant they were one step closer to getting you back; he was one step closer to having you in his arms again. it didn't matter if he got hurt in the process.

price's outstretched hand suddenly appears in his vision, "get up soap, we've got a job to do."

his daze melts away and he takes the captain's hand, allowing himself to be pulled upright with an affirming nod shared between them.

"good aim, ma'am." gaz calls over the radio, looking down his nose at the steadily declining state of the mask; his infamous facade now cracked and broken, revealing the agonised face beneath.

"bring 'em home, boys." kate replies, and though he can't see her face johnny can imagine the commanding look she's undoubtedly wearing.

gaz backs away as johnny crosses the mess of crimson and dirt to where the mask lays, sprawled out and immobilised by his injuries but still very much alive, giving the fellow sergeant a respectful nod as he goes. "he's all yours, mate."

johnny stands over his fading form, watching with a detached look in his eye as the blood spills from the gaping wound in his neck with every struggled breath, his disjointed intake of air and the pathetic sputters as he inhales his own viscera. there's not a shred of mercy in him as he gazes down at the man, every bit of agony was completely deserved for what he did to you. the death that claws at him would be a blessing.

he gurgles to johnny, raising a weak arm to brush the hem of his trousers as he attempts to expel the words, "pl–ea– plea-se–"

johnny scoffs, dry and venomous. he has half a mind to leave him to suffer until the life finally bleeds from him, but the pure rage he feels listening to this bastard plead for help after putting you through hell for a year is far too strong for him to restrain.

it's unconscious, the way johnny's arm raises to point the barrel of his pistol squarely at the centre of his forehead. he pauses for a moment, if only to see the fear creep into the bastard's expression before his fingers squeeze the trigger and the light is gone from his eyes.

his chest stops heaving and his hand drops back to the mud, leaving nothing but a few bloody fingerprints in his wake.

johnny pulls the trigger again.

and again, and again, and again, until his face is nothing more than a cavity of gore and lead and the ringing in his ears blocks out everything else around him.

a firm hand comes down on his shoulder and it’s only then does he notice the tension in his muscles and the fierce sneer pulling at his features. his eyes snap to the dark figure in the corner of his vision, meeting the bone white of simon's mask and the frown underneath.

"that'll do, johnny." simon murmurs, his own darkened eyes glaring down at the mangled corpse laying at their feet. he nods, somewhat absently, and turns away from the offending body.

there were more important things he needed to keep his head on straight for.

neither him or simon spare the remains of the mask another glance as they leave him behind. price and gaz are waiting by the entrance for them, and as soon as they're close enough they head together into the dark corridors of the building.

as the creep through the abandoned building, now deep in the cold basement, weapons poised and on high alert, there's a new sense of dread that forms in the back of his mind; what if you're not here after all? what if the mask was bluffing and you're already dead?

johnny grits his teeth and shakes his head to rid himself of that damning train of thought. he couldn't afford to think like that, he wouldn't, but another corridor of empty rooms has his heart sinking like an anchor to his stomach. he's trying to stay hopeful, but every dead end only makes him feel worse.

price grips his shoulder, firm and comforting, with a look in his eye to match as he catches johnny's gaze. "we'll find 'em, soap."

"i know." he replies, but there's a waver in his voice despite the certainty of his words. price doesn't release his gaze or his shoulder until he moves to follow the others.

he doesn't say much else as the search continues. the ringing in his ears is back, amplified by the eerie silence of the halls. he can feel the air getting colder after each empty room the clear.

the time passes arbitrarily, until there's one last room to check. johnny watches gaz and ghost pry it open, the sound of the lock breaking only just reaching him through the fog over his senses.

gaz pauses once the door swings open, his eyes locked onto something in the room as they widen dramatically. he still doesn't tear his gaze away as his jaw falls open, something frantic in the way he yells, "soap!"

a spark of hope strikes his heart and travels to the very ends of his limbs, a new burst of energy filling him as he shoves past his teammates to stand in the doorway and look into the room himself.

it's you.

curled into yourself in the corner of the damp cell, shivering with your face buried in your knees with your hands clamped over your ears. it's almost uncanny, how small you look. the tremble in your limbs, the fear in your quickened breaths, it was the exact opposite of how you should be, but despite it all…

it's really you.

johnny feels his heart swell painfully with relief, and without another second of hesitation he's skidding to his knees beside you and gripping the cold skin of your wrists. you let out a muffled sob at the contact, and johnny feels his blood turn cold when it meets his ears.

"don't!" you cry, weak and desperate. johnny's caught off guard with how you try to rip yourself away from him, the shakes that wrack your body only increasing when he keeps his hold on you. "get off! please– please don't!"

his heart cracks anew at the distress in your hoarse voice. he feels his eyes well up with hot tears that he has to fight to keep from falling.

"hey, it's me! it's johnny, it's your johnny! look at me, sweetheart, i'm here!" he tries to calm you with his words, keeping his voice low between you both, but you keep your eyes screwed tightly shut.

johnny lets go of your wrists to cup your face in his hands instead, gently turning your head towards him and using his thumbs to stroke soft shapes into your cheeks. the gesture makes your breath hitch audibly, and your eyes slowly open to meet his. "that's it, I'm here, i got ye, yer alright."

"don't– i don't– i can't…" whatever you're trying to say is broken up by the effort it takes you to keep breathing through your sobs. you still try to lean away from his touch, but johnny doesn't let you move far. he has to bite the inside of his cheek to hold back his own breakdown.

"no-one's gonna hurt you again, darlin', i promise ye." he murmurs, searching your glassy eyes while he continues to smooth his thumbs over the skin of your face, wet with your tears. "c'mere, i've got ye…"

with little more resistance from you, johnny gathers you into his arms and presses you close to his chest, they way he'd been dreaming off all the time you'd been apart. he pays no mind to the way the hard ground digs into his knees, and instead focuses on feeling the rise and fall of your ribcage against his own, your heartbeat under his fingertips, and the very real sound of your voice.

"you– j-johnny…" you stutter, your hiccuping sobs gradually fading away as you grip the bulk of his vest like a lifeline. "are you… real?"

"i'm real, darlin'," his voice cracks despite his efforts to stay strong for you. he presses his lips to the tip of your head in a lingering kiss, partly so you won't see the glossy tears in his eyes as he tries to stamp them down. "i'm here. i swear, i'm never lettin' you out of my sight again."

the simple feeling of your weight leaning against him is so overwhelming he's worried he might faint. he lets you calm down, rubbing soothing patterns up and down your arms and back and wherever he can reach, even when the position becomes uncomfortable and the dampness from the floor has seeped into his bones.

eventually though, he does pull back, softly shush you when you protest in the thought that he's leaving you, and cups your head in his warm hands.

"let's get you home, eh?" he smiles. your uncertain eyes dart between his for a moment, searching, before you nod. it's weak and hesitant, but the gesture makes his grin stretch a little wider all the same. "c'mon then, think ye can walk?"

johnny sighs when you shake your head, looking down and seeming almost embarrassed by your frail condition as if any of this was your fault. if he could kill that bastard again, he wouldn't even hesitate.

it's no bother to him to haul you up with him, holding you carefully against his chest with an arm under your knees and the other around your back. you still gingerly grip the top of his vest, your free arm looping itself around his neck and pulling yourself as close to him as you can muster. he gives a concise nod to the others, crowded in the doorway, and they begin the trek back to the helo.

the sunlight causes you to bury your face in the crook of johnny's neck, shielding your eyes from the blindingly bright rays. he allows himself a moment of distraction as they cross the clearing to revel in the feeling. he'd feel the sun on his face again, but he'd never again take for granted a single moment he spends with you.

they're almost to the edge of the clearing, almost departed from that haunted place with a graveyard of mangled bodies in their wake, but he doesn't quite make it to the treeline.

a single gunshot echoes through the clearing and before any of them can react, the shell has found its mark in johnny's leg. the force and shock of it sends him tumbling to the floor, scrambling through the blossoming pain to brace his fall on his arms so he won't land on top of you.

there's yelling, returning fire, but johnny can only focus on covering your body with his own, shielding you from any harm that might find you. even through the agony travelling up his thigh, even when the air is still again, and even when his own eyes are threatening to follow yours in falling shut and succumbing to the weakness that drags him down.

when did you shut your eyes? johnny slips his hand under your hand, grunting in his chest as his weight shifts, and to his horror his fingers come back red.

no, no no. he only just got you back, he cannot lose you again.

he doesn't even register that he's shouting – for help, a medic, something – until his weight is being heaved over ghost's shoulder and you're being taken by price, the cracks in his stony expression only fuel the sick dread making its way up johnny's throat.

back in the helo, in no time but he doesn't remember the journey, he tries to push the medic away who starts working on his leg, slurring for them to help you first. they ignore him, obviously, and if he had any energy left he would've berated them for not listening. ghost holds him down as they secure the tourniquet, and as his vision finally begins to fade, he turns his head to the side so you can be the last thing he sees as he slips into unconsciousness.

for once, he doesn't dream of you.

there are no images of your body, laying motionless under the rubble. he sleeps in blissful oblivion, his head completely silent, and wakes a day and a half later feeling more rested than he ever has despite the wound in his leg.

simon is by his bedside when he finally opens his eyes. it's late, the room dark apart from the fluorescent light bleeding in from the gap under the door and simon's phone highlighting his balaclava. he notices the moment johnny turns his head to watch him, because of course he does, and reaches over to turn on the lamp on the side table without a word.

"mornin', lt…" johnny mumbles, voice hoarse and eyes heavy as he pushes through the tiredness clinging to his senses to sit up in his bed. the light is abrasive to his eyes, but he blinks through the sting and manages a lazy smile towards simon.

"evenin', more like." he replies, a trace of humour in the way his eyes lift at the corners. "been asleep nearly thirty-eight hours."

johnny baulks at that, suddenly feeling a lot more awake from the cold shock that passes through him. "thirty–? jesus wept, i need'ta–" he sputters, wide-eyed as he throws the blankets from his legs and starts to get up, "i need'ta see 'em, how–"

before he can get his feet on the ground however, he's pushed back by simon's hand on his chest, forcing him to sit back and acknowledge the pain radiating from his thigh.

"they're fine, johnny." simon tells him, punctuated with a roll of his eyes before he continues, "been in and out of consciousness, but they're stable."

johnny sighs deeply, relief flooding through his body as he slumps back against his pillows. you're okay, you're alive, you're here, and you're home and safe. his thoughts have already begun racing and despite how much his wounds are aching, he's already set his mind to how he's going to see you as soon as possible.

as if sensing his plotting, simon leans forward to catch his gaze and even through the mask johnny can see the look he's sending him.

"i'm goin' back to bed, so don't do anythin' stupid." simon begins, pushing himself to stand using the arms of his chair and narrowing his eyes as he leans even closer. "if you rip these stitches, i'll put 'em back in myself, clear?"

"crystal, lt." johnny nods, and simon holds his stare as one last warning before he turns to leave – but not without giving him a firm pat just below his bandages that makes him wince, feeling the silent threat behind the gesture as he watches simon exit silently out into the hall.

johnny swings his legs over the side of the bed the second the door swings shut again, a sharp intake of breath following the movement as his weight shifts. surely he could get to where you are without making his wound any worse, he hard could it be?

he makes it two doors down before he realises that this might've been a bad idea. the muscles of his thigh burn and his breath comes out in heavy, stuttered huffs, but despite the strain on his injured body he refuses to give up before he's seen that you're okay with his own two eyes.

the fourth door he peeks through is where he finds you, the sight of your sleeping form instantly overpowering the pain in his leg. he shoulders open the door and beelines in a limp to your bedside, his gaze never once leaving your face until he's close enough to grasp your hand in a slow, featherlight touch like you'd disappear if he made a wrong move. you don't react as he strokes your knuckles, but johnny is more than content to just sit with you, perched on the edge of your bed and taking in the way your breath fills your lungs, the gentle thrum of your pulse under his fingertips on your wrist.

time passes easily like this, until the minutes have gone by and he can find the strength to lift himself into the bed beside you, snaking his arm around your neck and shoulder to hold you close as he settles in, careful not to agitate any of your own injuries.

"i missed you, my love," johnny whispers, dragging his fingers up and down your arm, pressing his lips to the crown of your head, "i missed you so much…"

your fingers twitch in his hold, the steady rhythm of your breathing hitching as a shaky sigh leaves you. johnny freezes, his hand stilling on your bicep and his eyes growing wide.

"john–" the sound of his name passing your lips pulls him out of his shock, and he pulls back to watch your eyes twitch and flutter open. your voice is raspy and still weak, but not even an angel choir could sound sweeter to him. "johnny…?"

"i'm here–" his voice breaks, but he continues anyway, "i'm here, i got ye." he murmurs, careful to keep his voice low despite how much he wants to cry from joy. "how ye feelin'? you comfy, sweetheart? any pain?" he asks, shifting the both of you to sit against the pillows and keep you nestled against his side.

"i'm okay–" your hoarse response is interrupted by a cough that devolves into wet hiccups, your hands curling tightly into his shirt as you look up at him, "it– am i– it's–"

"shushsh, i'm here darlin', i've got ye." he coos, his eyes welling up to match yours, resuming his soothing touch over your arm. you stay like that, for minutes that could've been hours, gazing into each other's eyes while you softly cry and johnny comforts you.

it aches him to see you cry, but he can't help but awe at how beautiful you still manage to be, with cuts and bruises and tears littering your face. his heart swells in his chest with the love he holds for you.

your hand finds its place on johnny's cheek, your staggered breaths calming down at last. he covers it with his own to feel more of your skin on his. a wince crosses your expression as you try to lean up towards him, but he stops you before you hurt yourself any further and leans his forehead against yours.

you pull his face even closer, digging your fingertips into his cheek in an almost uncomfortable sensation, before brushing your lips against his in something like disbelief. "am i dreaming?"

"no, my love," he utters against your skin, taking your bottom lip between his teeth, nudging your cheek with his nose, "this is real."

your breath hitches again when he closes the little space left between you and presses his lips to yours, encapsulating you in a kiss that holds every ounce of desperation he's been holding on to. it's passionate, all-encompassing, and it reminds him of the first time he kissed you all those years ago. your free hand travels up to his hair, tangling the longer strands around your fingers and drawing a groan from deep in his chest.

he's reluctant to let you when you pull away for air, tasting the salt from your last stray tears as he chases your lips.

"say it again…?" you ask in a murmur, your eyes fluttering open again. the look you give him, one of pure hope that you won't suddenly wake up alone, it makes johnny's heart miss a beat.

he squeezes your hand, turning slightly to leave a kiss on your palm. "it's real, bonnie. i'll die before i ever let you go again."

your mouth opens to say something, but you stop yourself just before you can choke the words out, fresh tears building in your eyes again. johnny gives you an encouraging nod, holding your gaze while you muster the courage to voice what you're thinking.

"i–" you begin, your words catching on a lump in your throat, "i watched you leave without me, i had to watch the helicopter disappear and, and you…" your voice fades, eyes darting between his while they gloss with unshed tears once again.

"sweetheart…" he frowns, his heart breaking anew from the anguish that he never wants to hear in your voice.

you swallow thickly, your hold on his hair tightening ever so slightly. "i thought– i didn't think you'd ever find me…"

"i'd always find you." johnny replies, his resolute tone leaving no room for argument. he touches his forehead to yours again and lowers his voice to continue, "even if i had to go tae the ends of the earth, i'd never stop lookin' fer you."

his words release the fresh tears you've been holding back, and with a quiet sob you drop your face to the crook of his neck, gripping his hair and face tighter still. johnny softly shushes you, rocking the two of you back and forth as much as he can with you held close in his arms.

"you're staying with me tonight…" your voice is muffled, spoken into his neck and sending goosebumps rippling across his skin. a comforting nostalgia follows your words, one he can't help but chuckle at.

"would'nae have it any other way, darlin'."

#soap x reader #soap mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish x reader #mw2 x reader #mw3 x reader #cod x reader #141 x reader #call of duty x reader #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #roosterr writes

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thatdeadaquarius · 10 months

Text

Genshin Impact Sagau/Isekai:

You still have acces to characters! ...by possessing them. 👻

PART 2 (you're here!) / Part 1

All art by me! :] leave me a iced coffee?? :0

HEY!! REALLY QUICK PLEASE READ!

STOP tagging my posts as "Yandere Sagau", "Sagau Cult AU", "Sagau Imposter AU" or other related dark content tags.

I'm sick of seeing reblogs that tag my work as dark content, when I'm specifically trying to LIGHTEN UP THE SAGAU TAG 😭😭??

Please be more respectful of this. Actually read the work before you just tag it incorrectly. Tags do matter.

/nm /gen

☆

Sun: Gender Neutral Reader (they/them)

Planet: Misc. Genshin AUs

Orbit: Headcanons, Scenarios

Stars: Tighnari ft. Cyno, Alhaitham, Collei

Comets & Meteors:

Content Warnings: Mild violence (bandit attacks/non-graphic), Reader/you possess people non-consent (mild/consent given eventually)

& Trigger Warnings: Reader/"you" possess people non-consenually for short times, but given consent eventually.

(pls comment if any more!)

Edit 9/7/23: 1,000+ NOTES?? WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE WHY- THANK YOU???

Edit 12/24/23 + 4/5/24:

☆

My goofy ass forgot to put this here .-.

Anyway this is a full length fanfic now ;)

…mistakes were made.

bad decisions were had, and okay, mayyybbbeee you could’ve taken more precautions against people finding out you were “real”.

afterall, you did see the Eremites reaction, even if it was only two guys (one from each camp) that you possessed :/

word spreads quickly amongst the Eremites groups, you guess, bc next thing you knew, after you’d moved closer to floating around Gandharva Ville,

they’d called that entire bit of forest haunted.

BUT IN YOUR DEFENSE-!! how were you supposed to know they’d blab to the whole camp they didn’t remember the past 20 minutes after you unpossessed them?? and immediately be on guard and jump to possession?? (Irminsul works hard but eremites/sumeru people work harder u guess)

And by the time you were happily patrolling with Collei, the forest rangers were just so chill you didn’t really expect anybody would think a ghost was possessing them (or whatever you were now… maybe,, just code?? it’s unclear)

so when u start to see Tighnari squint at people who’ve technically just “woken up” after you possessed them, mumbling under his breath more and more as a file he carries around gets thicker and thicker-

you start to think,,, maybe.

okay, mayyybbbeee,

you’ve fucked up.

◇

You really can’t help it, first it was making sure Collei got back safely from patrols (she’s ur skrunkly okay, you can’t help it, you’re still aware she’s capable but- the urge to skrunkle overpowers you- )

but then-!! You managed to spot Cyno! :D its ur boy!! ur little meow meow, who can throw people over his shoulder!! He really doesn’t need you, hovering around, but eh ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

what could it hurt! …it’s not like he can see, hear, or feel you anyway…

(unless u possess some animal/machine he thinks is friendly, which. sumeru is not exactly known for cuddly creatures. you don’t feel like experiencing death when possessing stuff just yet-)

imagine ur panic and shock as the General Mahamatra takes on a camp of criminals on the run, only for one of the old ruin machines (the ones that are just LEG and DEATH)

to hear the ruckus and come stomping around a thick patch of trees, it launched missiles!! You can’t warn Cyno, he can’t hear you!! No one can!!! The criminals are unconscious, there’s no other wildlife nearby they all ran off!!! FUCK-

You look at him and try to imagine his perspective as vividly as you can, he’s looking over the criminals, but now he’s turning, so people passed out and the tree-line got it-

Congratulations! You’ve possessed Cyno. 💀

It completely disorients you for a second, but then the panic of dodging the missiles comes back in time for you to make his body dive and roll off to the side, for as long as you can manage a roll too since you remember that’s the best way to dodge missiles in the game

…which works really well! bc he’s so fit and agile tbh

It was weird to finally run again after so long (two months now in teyvat?? wow)

with your feet suddenly in sandals, and feeling the breeze chilling your bare chest (Cyno’s chest??)

yeah its a shock considering most of the ppl you’ve possessed lately have been fully clothed rangers lol

you quickly imagine your ghostly form again, and just like that you’re drifting out of Cyno in ur “ghosty” form, having floated out and away from his back

Poor guy looks so fucking confused, and immediately is wielding his spear again, and is about to get out the crouch you put him in behind the dilapidated stone wall (dammit he better not waste ur efforts to keep him alive-)

until missiles slam and explode against it, he ducks back down (thank fuck) and Cyno just looks around one last time before hopping the wall and running to fight the thing

you notice that when the electro user goes to use his powers, they seem stronger than they were in his fight with the goons??

Maybe he was just going easier on them, since they are only human?

…so why does even Cyno look surprised when he goes to make a simple swipe with his charged spear and a bolt of lightning cracks out from his spear instead…?

…weird.

◇

Tighnari knows you’re here.

You figure he must have collected the reports of people “blacking out” or “sleep-walking” or whatever else and begun to suspect the worst.

…to be honest, you’re not sure what to do.

on one hand, it would be great to have someone know you actually exist, as yourself,

but on the other…

What would Tighnari think?

Of you possessing his rangers?? Temporarily taking ownership of someone without permission??? You’re afraid he’d think the worst of you…

tho u didn’t do so often, as u realized how messed up this could be, and u never did more than make them walk or talk normally for a few minutes before leaving them alone!

… afterall, you missed interacting with people. You were honestly a little worried abt going crazy, which is the only reason u were desperate enough to possess human people in the first place and continue doing so, just to talk to someone and have them look you in the face again like you really did exist as a person here-

(u thought u remember reading somewhere back on Earth that someone can only last 3 days of no other human contact until they start to lose it? but even if that’s not true, at the very least, u dont think talking one-sidedly to yourself all the time is healthy…)

so when Tighnari seems to get that file you’ve seen him adding onto, and gather up supplies, mentioning a day trip to Collei and the others to Sumeru City for some

“further research into these ‘blackouts’, and also contacting some of my colleagues who might know something…”

there’s no way you’re not going with him.

you feel increasingly anxious all day, and at one point when you were sure Tighnari was walled-in by books at the House of Daena, decide to go blow off the anxious energy by possessing an animal to get some food!

…you’re not really feeling comfortable enough to possess a living being into eating yet, that seems hella nonconsensual, and u kinda would be taking the joy of the meal from them tbh-

so u possess a cat!

a ginger cat, bc u like to think if u do anything weird, that ppl in Teyvat have the same type of cats back on Earth and excuse it as just:

“unhinged ginger cats being unhinged ginger cats yep makes sense” lol

you’d managed to be really cute (and wasn’t that weird, having to mimic animal behaviors like rubbing ur side against a person’s legs..)

and convince one of the cooks of Lambad’s Tavern to give u some leftovers, and been about to go off to try out sunbathing before the chore boy, little shit he is, tried to chase you off with a broom!! >:( the audacity!! you clearly have a little plate and everything!!

luckily, you’d finished eating, but still! Ouch!! those bristles fucking hurt-!!!

…you look and see a Sumeru-ified version of a skateboard, and u just know ur little cat face is just ✨v✨

and u steal the little shit’s skateboard as revenge! HAHA thats what you get animal abuser!!!

The kid’s yelling at you as you speedily skate away with ur little cat paws (LMAOO), but the cooks are calling him back in so he can’t pursue, (oh good u hear them get onto him for chasing u off)

and as u slow down to coast along the Sumeru streets,

you feel someone’s eyes staring you down.

You assume it’s just people being amused at a cat skateboarding, obv

but when you look just ahead of you to see a smiling Sumeru citizen or eremite-

Oh. It’s Alhaitham.

and he’s just… watching you.

he’s stopped reading whatever he’s got in his hand, and is slowlyyyy turning his head as you pass by…

You decide to just keep skating away. LMAO

◇

it’s already sunset by the you’re accompanying Tighnari back from Sumeru City, floating along behind him

and you’d been expecting a calm walk back, tbh you’d been feeling a little better bc the ranger hadn’t found much to identify you, yet, luckily-

but bc u can never catch a break:

Tighnari didn’t see the bandits dropping from the goddamn trees BEHIND HIM- and they had like claymores out- those were definitely gonna be killing blows-!!

so yeah.

You possessed Tighnari.

turns out ur pretty good at dodging bc this is second time now you’ve helped dive away for someone in an ambush, ur kinda proud of urself tbh💀

and as you make him take a few leaps back, ur ears twitch in the wind as you duck behind a tree, then float away and out of his body

The poor hybrid ranger visibly sways, then shakes his head out of it, and he flicks his ears in different directions, squinting into the woods, he’s pulled out his bow, so you’re at least reassured he’s aware there are enemies

Like Cyno last week, he too gives up and rolls for the next tree for cover and begins to shoot and take down the bandits

the rest of the week is kinda a blur after that, bc it’s mostly filled with Tighnari running in circles around the camp checking for blackouts, writing letters to Alhaitham and Cyno apparently, and you not possessing anybody out of paranoia :/

Most notably however,

you’ve unfortunately discovered one of the few drawbacks of ur possessions

(y’know, besides not existing essentially, what with no one being able to sense u outside of possessions)

apparently, if someone walks thru you, they accidentally force you to possess them 💀??

while it’d already happened once with a random ranger that you didnt notice was walking up behind you,

you didn’t want to test it again just yet bc it kinda made YOU nauseous and incredibly dizzy when this happened

(as in, u stumbled like a drunk after this poor ranger woman ran thru u, until you were so dizzy and the world spun sm u had to make her sit on the literal ground, luckily she just thought she was just really dehydrated when she came back into herself 😭)

so obviously, you’ve avoided crowds to keep this forced possession thingy from happening all the time

like at the Forest Rangers meetings or something, ur watching off to the side, instead of standing with them or beside them

so needless to say, after about a week and half since possessing Tighnari,

you definitely did not mean to possess Collei.

She’d been in her wheelchair today, the Eleazar flaring up and tiring her body out

so her wheels had been entirely silent when she rolled up to where you and Tighnari were leaning over some strange experiments of his- you were just trying to figure out what all these mirrors were for, didn’t he do plants more-?

you didn’t even know what the hell happened, you just felt that familiar dropping sensation, like a small drop on a rollarcoaster, blinked, and then suddenly you were sitting instead of standing/floating???

Oh god-

before you could even begin to process that Tighnari was in front of you instead of beside you, the world was shorter,

The fox-eared ranger yelled in triumph, grinning with sharp fangs and spinning around to look at you (Collei)-

“Ah-ha! It worked! Finally, I saw you! I saw you, I-?? Oh gods, Collei, NO-!”

And with quick reflexes, Tighnari’s summoned his bow, but he’s clearly confused on what to do about this situation, taking aim, but also holding the air glowing with dendro not as taunt as you’d seen him in the battle with the bandits

You scramble to raise your hands up, brown poofy sleeves rise to your command, light green hair you can feel on your shoulders, everything is familiar, but not-

“WAIT! I’m sorry!! This was an accident, I promise! I don’t intend to hurt Collei, or you!! Please, just, don’t shoot me, I think you’ll just hurt Collei instead…”

You talk him down and decide, that if he’s put this much effort into finding out about your existence, is an incredible leader and friend to everyone around him, and was able to accept the traveler and many other strange things that’ve (probably? maybe?) already happened in Sumeru (god fuck u dont even know where in the timeline you are)

that you can probably trust Tighnari with your existence, and your powers.

…He nearly passes out.

◇

Life has gotten a lot funnier, and happier, since you told Tighnari (and some of the more trustworthy rangers and Collei by proxy) about ur existence (or really, confirmed it)

He’d been wary at first, appropiately cautious and demanding answers, of which you were happy to give and explain yourself

luckily, after a whole lot of “hmm, I see, no, I think I’m understanding-” , finger on his chin and everything

he’s said it’s okay to hang around the rangers, so long as you don’t possess anyone anymore without them knowing about you/with permission (outside of emergency situations that is)

tho he did seem surprisingly understanding and accepting of you doing it before after you explained how u were just unbelievably lonely and were lowkey paranoid of going crazy-

The rangers seem to believe you’re some kind of god/spirit thing, as you had no explanation yourself as to what you were ¯\_ (ツ)_/¯

Tighnari’s also given you the rule to help out around here if you’re going to “ghost-laze around”, as he puts it lol

you’ve redirected ruin machines/feral animals away from rangers many times by now, to the many thanks and gratefulness of the rangers

you’ve even managed to even figure out how to push Collei’s wheelchair around when she uses it!

mostly by possessing tree after tree and using vines, or occasionally a fungi that can fly so you can nudge her along

she has insisted that you possess a ruin guard and carry her just to try it… however, Tighnari overheard her talking to the forest rangers’ dog (you) and immediately knew shit was up and banned you from doing it (at least not yet)

While most rangers are okay with you possessing them for a few minutes (and they’ve developed this bandana wrapped around their upper arms policy of “red = no possess, green = go ahead”)

Collei is the most okay with it and for longer, so you “won’t be that lonely ever again!” :’)

Tighnari is busy with stuff, so you can’t possess him as often, but the ranger has developed a theory that the more you possess someone, the more they can sense your feelings during possession/while floating around in ghost form too,

so he’ll occasionally feel you in the room with him, and start talking out loud in some one-sided convo to make you feel more included to make up for not being able to interact with him sometimes :)

(after taking you off his list of worries he’s still pretty swamped, not that he’ll tell you that, as he’s still not quite sure why he’s so, warm and safe feeling when you’re around, so willing to trust you so naturally, that it makes him want to at leats pretend to be worried abt a possessing ghost god/thing hanging out with the rangers now)

◇

basically everything is great!

the rangers are okay with you, they got a system to interact with you consensually, Tighnari and Collei are fond of you, you get to finally have something to do instead of floating around all the time (joining ranger missions)

and look!! they’ve even been kind enough to build you a little shrine or altar of sorts! Notes about Sumeru life, recipes for you to try, occasionally some books for you to read, and even some snacks/desserts for you to try out the next time someone possesses you and gives consent! (you leave them a little note stuck on their hand with your question for specific actions like that, if there isn’t another ranger there to ask for you when you unpossess them)

and everything is so cool, and everyone is so sweet and accepting

…Until Alhaitham shows up in Gandharva Ville, knocking on Tighnari’s door.

☆

AHHHH idk if this is any good! sorry it took so long, it was mostly the art 😭😭

anyway its not the best (the writing or the art) but i hope it’s at least some content to look at and be entertained for a minute!

also figured it was a good day to post what with the attack on our beloved Ao3 (tho i think it’s back up now?)

anyway, feel free to leave critiques on this one! (which I’ll probably turn this into a real fic one day soon, but not sure what to do with the plot/do a diff setup than this or what)

☆

sorry abt the radio silence! I just needed to close my mailbox bc i had a lot of stuff to answer, ur welcome to send submissions to chat/non-requests!

and also this took time to make (once again, mostly the art, bc thats how it always is with art isnt it 😭)

☆

Safe Travels Stranger,

💀♒

☆

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @justlostintheinternet / @assassinsnake101 /@sun-wokung

If ur tag is here and didnt work, idk why!

Maybe see if your listed as a "searchable blog"?

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astonmartinii · 1 year

Note

Heyy! Can I request more vettel insta AU? Honestly I have no preference for the reader I just enjoy reading vettel a lot because of how less we get to see it but I'm happy to discuss suggestions 🤩 hamilton y/n + roscoe, charle's sister anything really

family ties | sebastian vettel instagram au

pairing: sebastian vettel x leclerc!reader

seb may be retiring, but he's not gone from the paddock completely, though the reason is not exactly what you'd expect

ynleclercart

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 110,067 others

tagged: sebastianvettel

ynleclercart: it's been a rollercoaster of a ride but i am beyond grateful to have been able to design helmets for such an icon of the sport. seb will always be missed on track, but if he ever wants to return, he knows where i am <3

view all 21,450 comments

user49 noooo can people stop posting their goodbye posts for seb i'm still in denial

sebastianvettel no one else i'd rather work with, thank you for always supplying the beautiful lids

ynleclercart always - come visit soon

sebastianvettel i'll be there

user12 ^^ this is just digging the knife deeper PLS DON'T GO SEB

charles_leclerc what about your loving and devilishly good-looking brother?

ynleclercart eh, seb is better

user35 most iconic leclerc and it doesn't even come close

ynleclercpriv

liked by charles_leclerc, sebastianvettel and 31 others

ynleclercpriv: sometimes babygirl is a fully grown man who hikes in his free time

view comments

charles_leclerc tell him if he comes to monaco i'm shaving it

ynleclercpriv over my dead body charlie

charles_leclerc that can be arranged

sebastianvettel thank you for the compliment (?) my love, charles stop threatening her or i shall have to intervene

maxverstappen1 get his ass seb

ynleclercpriv max why are you involved in our family domestic?

maxverstappen1 idk seemed fun

sebastianvettel can we all go back to the original point of the post - admiring me?

f1gossipandtea

liked by 2,130 others

f1gossipandtea: seb spotting!! anon sent me this picture of recently retired sebastian vettel in monaco of all places. why do we think he's there?

view all comments

user45 my king is looking so good, retirement unfortunately suits him

user10 my sebchal heart tells me that he was there to see charles but it's not likely :(

user09 no let's be delusional

user22 i saw a post that he was later seen with a woman??? a girlfriend mayhaps?

user49 pls no i can't take retirement and a girlfriend in a month

sebastianvettel added to their story

[caption: had to commission the best in the business - thanks y/n]

ynleclercpriv

liked by sebastianvettel, pierregasly and 35 others

ynleclercpriv: goofing around in the wilderness

view all comments

sebastianvettel it's not goofing, we're serious hikers

ynleclercpriv sure we are and i'm also a professional boxer

maxverstappen1 y/n can you get seb to come back? it's a shit show here without him

charles_leclerc i agree with him for once

ynleclercpriv lmao they gagged ur ass @lewishamilton

charles_leclerc y/n i'm being serious !!!! he'll listen to you if you ask

sebastianvettel i can literally read all of this

maxverstappen1 so you'll come back?

sebastianvettel nope

sebastianvettel

liked by ynleclercpriv, charles_leclerc and 702,088 others

sebastianvettel: vacation and all that jazz

view all 98,237 comments

user78 seb using instagram like a normal person after retiring, my prayers were heard

charles_leclerc you're 1000% going to be a crunchy dad

sebastianvettel i don't know what that means but i don't think a person can be crunchy

charles_leclerc that's exactly what a crunchy dad would say

ynleclercpriv don't try and trick him with online terminology

user30 i love the domestics in this comment section i didn't know the leclercs and seb were that close

user40 call me a conspiracy theorist all you want but that's defo y/n leclerc

f1gossipgirl

liked by user45, user10 and 404 others

f1gossipgirl: another seb spotting, the german made a surprise appearance in melbourne... and in a ferrari jacket. our sources say that he was accompanied by a woman but he wasn't seen again other than his entrance. do we think seb will watch from ferrari? does he have a new job? does he have a girlfriend? what do you think?

view all 38 comments

user10 omg he's so mysterious but like i need him to be straight up with me right now

user39 my brain: he's probably just there to support, my heart: seb for ferrari team principal

user88 omg imagine seb as team principal helping charles win a championship

user67 so someone commented on seb's post that he might be dating y/n leclerc (charles' sister, seb's old helmet designer and artist) and that would make sense that he'd accompany his gf to support her brother

user11 omg the thought of charles and seb being brother-in-laws

ynleclercpriv

liked by sebastianvettel, charles_leclerc and 35 others

ynleclercpriv: forgive me friends but i am so in love with this man

view all comments

charles_leclerc believe me we know

sebastianvettel i love you too honey 🍯

pierregasly where did you get the last photo... asking for a friend

ynleclercpriv it's from norbert - you snooze you lose pear

maxverstappen1 omg parents

charles_leclerc STOP

sebastianvettel i'm not sure we're your parents but yes you can come visit for christmas

charles_leclerc wait i thought we were coming this year

ynleclercpriv more than one family can come at a time - grow up charlie

sebastianvettel

liked by ynleclercpriv, charles_leclerc and 1,023,566 others

sebastianvettel: doing melbourne right

view all 101,677 comments

user45 sebastian... you don't know what a soft launch is

user13 he's an influencer now baby

charles_leclerc i thought social media was stupid ?

sebastianvettel let me appreciate the love of my life in peace

charles_leclerc okay romeo

user19 the last two posts + charles commenting on every post + seb being seen in the paddock IN A FERRARI JACKET = i'm losing my mind

redbullracing can't wait to see you tomorrow champ!

user48 they're fuming he's being seen with ferrari

liked by charles_leclerc, pierregasly and 772,303 others

tagged: scuderiaferrari, charles_leclerc & sebastianvettel

f1: a familiar face back in the ferrari garage! seb made his return to the scuderia in melbourne surrounded by former coworkers and the leclerc family.

view all 96,236 comments

user48 AND THE LECLERC FAMILY ??? they know what they're doing f1 admin is a seb x y/n truther

liked by f1

charles_leclerc he loves me too much to stay away for too long

ynleclercpriv *us

user38 YALLLLLLLLLLL

user97 i need them to confirm it i love them so much

user21 the way y/n has commented - her account is priv but there's over 1,000 posts HOW MUCH OF IT IS SEB PLS GIVE US THE CONTENT

ynleclercpriv i don't kiss and tell xoxo

charles_leclerc

liked by ynleclercpriv, sebastianvettel and 1,304,778 others

charles_leclerc: congratulations on officially joining the leclerc family seb!! thank you for putting up with me and i expect great birthday and christmas presents xx

view all 211,056 comments

sebastianvettel of course you spoiled this, i love you but you are an unfortunate by-product of my relationship with y/n

user23 CONFIRMATION

pierregasly CHARLES NO

danielricciardo CHARLES NO

landonorris CHARLES NO

maxverstappen1 CHARLES NO

ynleclercpriv YOU FUCKING MORON CHARLES I'M LOCKING YOU OUT

sebastianvettel

liked by charles_leclerc, ynleclercpriv and 2,134,677 others

sebastianvettel: happy engagement to the love of my life, your brother may have spoiled it, but i'm prepared to deal with his annoying ass if i get to be with you for the rest of my life. you make life worth living and i can't wait to explore the world with you x

view all 301,451 comments

user39 when will it happen for me god?

charles_leclerc I'M SORRY I LOVE YOU GUYS THOUGH

maxverstappen1 bagsy flower boy

danielricciardo pleasse let me plan the stag

aussiegrit congrats seb!!

christianhorner congratulations seb and y/n

ynleclercpriv i love you so so so much seb, i'm so glad i met you. you've changed my life and finally showed me what love truly means x

note: omg this post has posted so many times unfinished im gonna lsoe my mind

#f1 instagram au #f1 x reader #f1 x you #f1 imagine #sebastian vettel x reader #sebastian vettel imagine #sebastian vettel instagram au #sebastian vettel x you #sebastian vettel

2K notes · View notes

crystalflygeo · 1 year

Text

Countdown/edging . ft Zhongli + m!reader

cw/tags: orgasm delay/edging, hand job, praise kink, dirty talk, slight dom/sub.

notes: Edging is so delicious oh god <3 First time writting male reader ehe I really really hope this is good;;; pls I only aim to please.

Downright sinful the way those elegant fingers wrap around your cock, dragging slowly, reverently before his thumb rubs right against the frenulum and you gasp, hips bucking as you shift on his lap.

“Now, now.” Zhongli’s deep voice rumbles. “Hands by your sides, my dear. Just stay there like a good boy.” He murmurs huskily, nuzzling at your neck.

You melt at his touch and moan, obediently placing your hands at both sides of your body and slightly parting your legs to give him more access.

Oh, the game was on…

Zhongli starts working you slowly, hand curling and sliding against the underside, across your entire length from root to tip. You whimper, already flushed and fully hard.

“Oh, archons-hng!” His thumb rubs against your cockhead, gathering the precum beading there already. “That’s- T-That’s-” Your words cut off with a strangled moan as he presses at the tip, a jolt of pleasure cursing your veins.

Zhongli chuckles and starts jerking you’re a little more enthusiastically, you close your eyes and melt leaning back against his chest as your breathing gets heavier, trembling as desire starts to consume you. The ex-archon slips his free hand under your shirt, teasing your stomach and ribs before his fingers pinch one of your nipples.

“Nnngh!”

He rubs against the nub and you keen at the touch, back arching. He tugs at your cock alternating the pace and squeezing a little at the top and you shudder.

Your hands claw at the couch like you’re desperately trying to hang onto something because the hot pleasure curls tight in your gut, like you’re pulling yourself up for air because your head is swimming and-

It stops. It simply stops right at the edge and you can’t feel anything but a raw need, and it’s incredibly frustrating as you catch the mischievous glint in his eyes, smirking. You whine and your hips buck, chasing the tight warm you’ve so suddenly been denied.

“Be patient.” Zhongli chides, nipping at the skin where your neck meets shoulder, sharp fangs just barely digging in at the edge of your shirt. He starts whispering numbers into your ear, counting up “One. Two. Three. Four…” his hot breath making you shudder again.

On five it begins all over again. The build-up, the edging and the sudden stop. It goes to six the next time when you’re left panting frustrated. Seven the time after that, and you whine loudly and wriggle in his lap, throwing your head back. Eight is almost impossible to withstand with the way he practically growls the numbers instead of the soft baritone from before, like he’s the one getting off here, while your voice is wobbly and laced with lust. “Zhongli… fuck, please…”

His hand cups your balls, and squeeze softly, rolling them on his palm and rubbing his thumb along the skin and it’s all too much but also not enough and you’re going crazy.

“Cruel.” You say breathily. “That’s so, so cruel. I’m so close, I’m right there, please…”

Every touch is like lightning and your cock twitches, already leaking everywhere, all over your stomach and your clothes and Zhongli’s hand. There’s the telltale churning in your lower belly, the tightening of your muscles as your thighs go taut and-

Zhongli pulls off again, pressing a soft kiss against your neck.

“Noooo…” You hiss.

Zhongli laughs amused. He knows you too well, knows all your body’s cues and tells already. He knows when you’re just about to come, your cock jumping, breath catching. He squeezes at the base of your length tightly, staving off the pleasure again.

It’s like your pleasure belong to him, your orgasms, your body, all of you.

And oh you love it.

“Too soon.” He purrs, teasing as the soft underside up to your cockhead again. “Just imagine how good it’ll be once I finally let you come.”

“Zhongli-”

His chuckle is deep and oh-so-tantalizing. He plays with the patch of hair just at the base of your cock and it twitches to attention. “Alright, alright, on ten now. Can you do it for me? Be a good boy and cum at the count of ten?”

You swallow thickly at the dark promise and nod enthusiastically, desperate to plunge off the edge he’s been keeping you at for far too long now.

His fingers curl around you once more, teasing up and down and you gasp.

“One.”

You’re so pent up, ready to burst. He’s been teasing you forever and the heat spreads through your body climbing up to that tantalizing high faster and faster.

“Four. That’s a good boy.”

His hand moves fast, sliding over your slick length coaxing you. Your hips stutter, fucking into the tight squeeze of Zhongli’s fingers.

“Six… just a little more.”

Obscene wet noises fill your ears as he keeps stroking, you shake like a leaf on his lap. So, so close…

“Nine…” He hums and tilts your head to swallow your moans, capturing your mouth in a kiss and you whine onto it, messy, desperate, squirming as his tongue rolls against yours. It’s too much, you can’t you can’t-

He parts only slightly with a smirk and string of saliva connecting your mouths “Ten. Come for me my dear. Show me…”

“Ahnn- f-fuck…”

You shake and cry out, holding yourself up on his arms and fucking his hand through it. Your vision goes white and tears leak from the corners of your eyes as you teeter the edge of overstimulation. White spurts of your seed coating your belly, thighs and his hand, all over your clothes.

You gasp and tremble as you come down from the high, body finally relaxing from the pent-up tension and your eyes feel glassy and unfocused. You blink once, twice, and finally register Zhongli muttering praises against your neck and shoulder. You sag boneless against his chest.

“S-so good…” You slur.

He chuckles and kisses your forehead. “I’m glad, my love. Are you too tired for a bath right now?”

It takes a moment but you shake your head slowly. “I-I want…” And you slowly grind your hips, feeling Zhongli’s own hard-on and rubbing against it.

“Oh…” His golden eyes darken. “You’re insatiable.”

This time, you smirk.

#zhongli smut #zhongli x reader #zhongli x you #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin x you #genshin impact imagines #genshin imagines #crys writes #male reader #HOT HOT HOT #everyone deserves geo daddy love//hit #hmmmmm edging HMMMMM guys moaning <3

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bamsara · 16 days

Text

A03 Questions Tag Game

I got tagged by: @kagedbird I tag: @onethirdofimpossible, @coffincrows, (first two that come to mind) and anyone else who wants to do the game

1 – How many works do you have on AO3?

At the time of writing this post, currently 30 fics. (Not including any fics or written works that are not posted to AO3)

2 – What's your total AO3 word count?

1,066,633

3 – What fandoms do you write for?

Formerly: Don't Starve, FNAF, Dragons Dogma, Invader Zim

Currently: Cult of the Lamb

4 – What are your top five fics by kudos?

Solar Lunacy, Celestial Omens, Bytes of Lunacy, The Rehabilitation of Death, Saturday Insomnia

5 – Do you respond to comments?

I try to but I also get very nervous responding because I often don't know what to say back and I feel like it's almost rude or disrespectful to respond to a comment, esp the very nice ones that are long and in-deph with just a keysmash or a bunch of emojis, but I do read every single one since I have email notifications on for them

I'd like to sit down and respond to many but I really don't want to make it awkward so pls dear god readers forgive me

6 – What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I don't like unhappy endings. I enjoy angsty stories but I like when it's at least ending happy to me

7 – What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Not posted? Solar Lunacy

Ongoing? TROD

8 – Do you get hate on fics?

Not really? Most adults (in my experience) know the 'don't like don't read' rule and know basic online etiquette. I've gotten some for discontinuing a fic or switching fandoms though

9 – Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

I don't write or draw NSFW! I like to make some suggestive themes sometimes, but I'm a very ace person, it's not something I do often. (I do have a current running goal that if my friend reaches their donation goal for their medical bills that I would give NSFW a shot, but again its not really my cup of tea)

10 – Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

Nah I haven't written any cross overs, but I do draw them sometimes. Recently I've been spinning a Alice in Wonderland x COTL crossover in my head.

11 – Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Yep. I've had people copy and paste my work, go in with a thesaurus to change a few words (like changing 'angry' to mad, 'upset' to 'sad', and so forth) to try and avoid detection and re-posted my written work under a different title name. AO3 staff took them down for violating their policy against plagiarism though

12 – Have you ever had a fic translated?

No. I wouldn't mind it so as long as I'm asked before hand, though not on anon so I can actually work with the person to prevent any mistranslations or mishandling, and that I don't want my work posted to other websites

13 – Have you ever co-written a fic?

I think I did when I was a teen but I cannot remember now

14 – What's your all-time favorite ship?

Eh I don't have any favorites, just ones I really focus on for a long while

15 – What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

Pass.

16 – What are your writing strengths?

I can sit down for hours or several days and work on a writing wip completely in the zone. I cant do it on command but its at least something I can do

17 – What are your writing weaknesses?

Spelling and grammar, and sometimes long running sentences. I just kinda write, theres not really a goal for it to be perfect though so as long as the story gist and vibe is right, im fine with it

18 – Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I've done it before but only minor, had a friend help me with it (one or two lines of dialogue) Aside from that, I'm not comfortably fluent enough in anything to do it again without assistance

19 – First fandom you wrote for?

Soul Eater, when I was wayyy too young to be posting anything on the internet. My fanfics I wrote are still on fanfic.net to this day

20 – Favorite fic you've written?

It's inbetween TROD and EE&E right now

#sara shush

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wmuffy · 2 months

Text

≡𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑻 ≡𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑪𝑯

i didn’t know!

as expected many people loved that 12 hour stream! although, there have been many tweets about a relationship beginning to spark! some people happen to be rather jealous and some friends seems to be rather concerned!

BIG THREE + MEGUMI | PRIVATE GROUPCHAT

THE GC 🪩 | PRIVATE GC

YN + SATORU PRIVATE MESSAGES

≡𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑪𝑯𝑨𝑻 ≡𝑶𝑷𝑬𝑵 𝑪𝑯

yea gojo “didn’t know” the stream could see him feeling on yn… sounds like bs to me! and gojo going to yn class knowing she isn’t with her friends? seems like the two are getting pretty sneaky if you ask me!

apologies for the wait school been kicking my ass, and guys PLEASE I BEG do not spoil the manga in the comments, i still haven’t even finished the culling games.. thanks for all the support! also i removed all tags that weren’t working but if you guys still want to be tagged PLS LMK HOW TO FIX IT BECAUSE IM CLUELESS, i want you guys to be tagged but im not sure why it’s not working so if you have any idea dont hesitate to reach out! ilyy

taglist: @nnasv @mine-lu @lysaray @shitforbrainsmal @chuyasthighs0 @ladytamayolover @h3xi2g0n3 @taelattecookie @manii-luvs @love-jelly @r0ckst4rjk @blvckxb3vutii @mixzimi @tenshiroko @dreamxiing @k3lbade @brainzdamaged @satoryaa @aureliusbrutus @bbmsxlene

eh nah OR continue!

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tamelee · 1 month

Note

pls bottom naruto is disgusting stop drawing this ooc cringe

Eh? And it hadn't even been a full day.

Anyway, do you know what this means?:

It means… that I don’t give a damn about your whiny gibberish about this top/bottom bullshit, because it sounds incredibly silly. (And wrong because I draw both?)

It’s fine to have a preference, good for you (I have one too!), but if all you care about between a character-dynamic is the single notion which establishes a rule within a fandom that demands only this particular dick in only that particular booty and nothing else, while dividing yourselves between "us and them" while seeing the people who like the same exact characters as your "enemy" and treating them as such— well,

I have nothing to say to you, I couldn’t care less what you think about me and I don’t know you.

But for the sake of other creators who are often a target also, some which I know quit because of this… there is a little something I'd like to say about these servers:

You don’t think I (we) know what is said in there and by who? 👀 That your rules of "what is said on here stays here" with a bunch of people online that you don't know, is actually respected? Why do you think I never join any. And bet your ass that I'm not the only one. This constant fighting between NS/SN is such an embarrassment for this fandom, seriously. I hope you realize that.

Because, instead of encouraging a (new) creator to share something about the characters you claim to love (for fucking free) you go off chastise them for not “doing it right”/“your way”, pretending it's some unspoken commission no one knew of or was paid for. Instead of being happy there’s still so much creative contribution for characters from a story that ended years ago, you go complain under fanfics and dishearten writers, often grinning away with your little server-“friends” and make fun of work someone poured their heart in. Or, you huff, puff and breathe fire as you make plans to cancel them out of pure bitterness, to the point (especially new) creators are too scared and dispirited to ever share anything again. It's easy to do anonymously, aye? And if you think that doesn’t affect their lives and sends them right back into a crestfallen pit of dark hell because it prevents them to do/share the single thing in life that gave them a bit of joy, then...

Congratulations; you’re a heartless bastard.

And you, as a fan, did yourself dirty too.

Do you know how many people don’t want to share anything at all for this fandom because you people leave comments, tags, asks, tweets constantly complaining about an incorrect portrayal of the (in your opinion) only acceptable dynamic, like a bunch a brats? Do you? Because I’ve talked to quite a few of these discouraged creators, they have to hope for the best and pray they’re spared from your scrutiny. I receive it from both sides every now and then.

Again, congratulations: you’re the reason there’s less chance of you getting what you want in the first place.

Do you... really not realize?

The more you squabble with "your enemy" (lol) the more it affects the "us" you care about while the rest of us just bask in the glory that is SNS/NSN and couldn't care less about what you think/have to say. So, keep everyone else out of it and go mope elsewhere.

But, between you and me? There are better ways to share what you think is right. Make something yourself, because what's stopping you?

You’re perfectly capable, it doesn’t have to be art or a fic, maybe there’s just something in the story that you really enjoyed— write about it. Make a meta. Post the panel, show the moment that determined your undying love for this single dynamic and why— whatever. Because, wouldn't it be nice having someone encourage you to create something you like? 😬 Especially because you and your server feel so strongly about it? And then you don't have to depend on others either?

Wouldn't it be nice?

Well?

Hm!?

Try it, ffs.

#asktamelee #fandom talk

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kilistina · 1 year

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hiii just wanted to say i love ur posts so much. ur so good at writing pls never stop😫 i just finished reading punk 57 and the whole “tell me something true” line has me in a CHOKEHOLD. pls pls pls write about assholery being cold and distant with y/n out of nowhere even though they’re friends. can the reader be fem and have bunny as a nickname too? it’s been on my miiind and i just know you’ll write it to perfection <33

i fucking ADORE this suggestion sm. whoever you are, message me pls bc i wanna rack your brain for more lmao

lmk if you wanna be tagged in part 2 when—if—it comes out <3 i hope y’all enjoy this part though bc it’s truly one of my favourites so far.

i recommend listening to these two songs while reading: wet dream - wetleg, desire - meg myers

•••

dirty dancing. pt1

word count: 4.4k-ish

disc. nsfw content ahead. mdni. brief coke mention—in passing, includes fem! reader n harry styles, bold ass language, kinda slow burn but not really, some sexy dancing ig n aaaangst. enjoy my whores <3

•••

Things have been weird with Harry for a while now. You’re not exactly sure how or why the rift even started, but it did. And it’s only been getting worse.

You’ve been friends for what—two years now? Never too close, but close enough to be able to communicate about any issues you’ve had with each other. You and Harry don’t really argue, he’s not the confrontational type. Not with you, anyway. And not when he’s sober.

You aren’t the biggest fan of confrontation either. When things get too heated or overwhelming, you cry. It embarrasses you—being unable to handle your emotions. You know that you’re only human, and you’d never judge someone else for crying in the middle of an argument, but because it’s you, because you know yourself so well, you judge yourself over it. Weird pattern, but hey, it’s real.

Right now, you’re out at a bar with your friends—the same group you’ve been hanging around since high school. Mitch and Sarah have been highschool sweethearts for as long as you can remember, they’re like the parents of the group. The cool parents. The parents everyone secretly wishes they could have. Niall and Lewis are attached at the hip, too—platonically. Been best friends since the day they met.

You’re the closest with Niall since you’ve been living with him through college, and you wouldn’t have it any other way. You have other girlfriends but they’re not as close to you as Niall and Sarah are. Sarah’s like a diamond you’ve always loved. They all are. They’ve always been by your side when you needed them—Harry included. You got lucky, sure. Not everybody has the luxury of picking the good ones before college and life gets in the way.

The bar is slowly coming to life. People who came for a meal are leaving, and people in the mood for a night of drinking and dancing are all piling in. You’re excited. It’s been way too long since you’ve let loose. You’ve been too stumped with work and college lately, you’ve barely had any time to breathe without someone breathing right there with you. And of course, you enjoy the company of others. But when you have to be sober for it all? Eh.

Harry’s similar to you in that sense. He loves socialising. Absolutely adores it. He’s an extrovert. But after weeks of constant company, he gets burnt out. The only thing that helps toughen the blow is alcohol. Or coke, but he’s stopped that for a while now.

You prop your elbows up on the edge of the bar and lean against it, looking around for the bartender. He has his back to you, mixing someone else’s drink. You clear your throat and he turns his head to the side, catching sight of you and nodding his head to let you know he’ll be a moment. You nod back and wait, turning to face your friends.

“Anyone wanna shot with me?” You arch a brow at your five friends, and they all smirk and nod their heads. Harry included. “We all good for a vodka?”

Everyone nods a second time in response, and you turn back to face the bartender.

“What can I do for you, gorgeous?” He shoots you a warm smile.

“Five shots of vodka, please.” You smile back at him and he nods.

“Straight?”

“No, gay,” You murmur a witty reply and he laughs, beginning to fill five shot glasses for you. You swear you can hear Harry coughing back a laugh from behind you too, but you don’t pay him any attention.

You double tap your phone’s off switch, activating the apple pay, and you hold it up to pay for your drinks.

“No need, beautiful,” The bartender holds his hand up, “This round’s on me.”

You shrug, exhaling dramatically, “I won’t try and convince you to let me pay.”

“I wouldn’t let you try.” The attractive bartender plays along, smirking at you.

You mouth a quick thank you to him and he gives you one final wink before turning his attention to the small group of girls next to you, catering to them now. You grab the shot glasses off the counter and hand them out to everyone, and you all hold them up and clink them together before downing them in seconds.

“Fuck,” Sarah sticks her tongue out as if that’s going to help the taste in her mouth, “Never gets easier does it?”

“Doesn’t need to,” Niall grins proudly, setting his shot glass down on the counter, “You’re just weak.”

“Yeah we fuckin’ get it, you’re an Irish heavyweight. We should all bow down at your feet, you’re a king and we’re peasants who can’t handle a measly shot.” Lewis rolls his eyes and pretends to worship him.

Niall frowns in confusion, “Who you calling a heavyweight?”

Harry snorts at the two men bickering. They’re like two peas in a pod, and typically, people who are so close tend to argue every now and then.

The group has that dynamic. Sarah and Mitch, Niall and Lewis, you and Harry? You’re not sure if you and Harry count. You’re not as close as the others. You wouldn’t call him a best friend. A friend, yes. A good friend? That’s pushing it, but still, yes. A best friend? No.

It’s not that you wouldn’t like to be closer. You’ve just never really been given the chance. Harry’s always kept a safe distance from you. You’ve hardly ever spent time alone, always speaking and engaging with each other the most when others are around to witness it. Sure, a part of you wishes that Harry would pay you more attention, but the other part of you doesn’t think he deserves it. If he wanted to, he would, right?

“And aren’t you Irish too?” Niall questions Lewis, continuing on with their unserious bickering.

“Yeah like a third,” Lewis shrugs, “From my dad’s side, but you already knew th—stop deflecting. Y/N, tell him to stop deflecting from how much of a cock he is.” He points towards you and tries to get you involved.

You giggle and shrug your shoulders, “You are a bit of a cock sometimes, Ni.”

“Both of you can suck me, honestly. I’m fuckin’ great.” Niall flicks his hair dramatically and you and Lewis snicker.

“I’m with Niall,” Harry lightly nudges Niall’s chest with his elbow, joining in on the joke, “Both of you can suck him.”

“You fucking weirdos,” Mitch shakes his head at the lot of you, not surprised in the slightest by your antics, “Miss Jones and I are gonna go dance, you lot can either keep bickering or come join us. Choice is yours.”

With that, they both head for the dance floor together, holding their hands in the air and laughing.

“I’m joining those twats,” Lewis gestures to them, looking at the rest of you, “You three game?”

Niall nods, “Course. Harry, Y/N?”

“I’ll be there in a bit,” You nod towards the bar, “I feel like some more drinks.”

Everyone’s attention shifts to Harry. He clears his throat as he thinks for a moment, “Yeah, me too. Be there in a bit.”

Lewis and Niall both nod at Harry and beeline for the dance floor, already beginning to bicker again on the way. You giggle at the sight of them and shake your head, turning to face the bar again. Harry joins you, standing by your side. Neither of you look at each other, you keep your eyes in front of you at the neat array of liquor set along the counter.

“Nice night, don’t you think?” You break the awkward silence threatening to form between the two of you.

You catch sight of Harry nodding his head, “Always a nice night with this lot.”

Dry as fuck. You might not be close with Harry, but you aren’t stupid. You know the way he speaks to people, you’ve seen it. Harry could have an hour long conversation with a tree. But with you, it seems like a fucking chore.

You want to scoff. You want to scoff at how fucking childish Harry’s acting with you. Why can’t he look at you or have a normal conversation with you?

You sigh, not wanting to overreact over such a minor reply and ruin the night for yourself. Although Harry seems to be doing a decent job of that himself.

“Can’t argue with that.” You murmur.

“Mhm.” Harry murmurs and you wait a beat for him to say something else, anything else.

He doesn’t.

That’s it.

“I feel like I don’t know you.” Your words spill out before you can stop them.

Harry’s taken by surprise. He turns to face you. Now he’s looking, at least. “Sorry?”

“I feel like I don’t know you.” You sigh, repeating yourself.

“What is there to know?” He furrows his eyebrows at you, gesturing to the bartender that he wants a glass of something.

“You tell me, Harry Styles.”

He sighs, running a hand through his curly hair, “Y/N, what are you trying to get at here?”

You shrug, “I dunno, I feel like I click with everyone else. I’ve got a connection with everyone, H. Everyone but you.” Your words come out harsher than you intended. You’d feel a little guilty if they weren’t true. But they are.

“That was unnecessary.” Harry murmurs so quietly that you almost don’t hear him.

“You asked me a question and I answered it.” You stand your ground, sick of Harry’s half-assed efforts to conversing with you. You’re a catch, your friendship is amazing, and you’re great to talk to. What the hell is Harry’s problem?

He laughs, scoffing at you in disbelief, “Fuck, you’re such a bitch sometimes.”

You almost choke on your own saliva, “Excuse me?”

“You fuckin’ heard me, Y/N. I called you a bitch. Because that’s what you are half the time when shit doesn’t go your way.” Harry doesn’t know where this is all coming from, but it’s coming.

He doesn’t mean it, obviously. He’d never mean that. He doesn’t think you’re a bitch. Again, never. But he’s angry. He’s angry and you’re angry and you’re both speaking without thinking it through properly and you’re both making an absolute mess of the situation and each other—

“What the fuck?” You stare at Harry in shock, your eyes wide with disgust.

He’s confused by your offended reaction, “What, are you surprised or something? Come on, Bunny. You know better than that.”

“You don’t have to be such an ass,” You scold him, “We used to get along. We used to be closer. We’ve never been as close as the others but at least we used to speak. At least I was able to walk into a room knowing you were there and look forward to it.”

His face relaxes at your words. He knows you mean well. You’ve both been hotheaded for a moment but now you seem to be calming down. You’re bringing your point across well and he can’t fault you for it.

“But what now? What fuckin’ now, H? You never speak to me when we’re alone, and then when you finally do, it’s this. It’s an attack on my character. Does this shit get you off or something?”

Never mind.

Harry scoffs at your sudden change in tone, feeling agitated again, “Fuck you.”

You slam your hand on the counter, “Fuck you, Harry!”

He glares at you as you continue scolding him, “What the hell are we even doing here? Go spend time with your actual friends.”

“Hey, wait a second. What?” He leans his head to the side in confusion, not knowing what you mean, “We’ve known each other for years, Bunny.”

“I don’t know a single thing about you.” You point out, making him roll his eyes. “Don’t roll your—“

“Where’s my favourite place to eat?” Harry cuts you off with a question. A question that you know the answer to.

 “That’s not—”

“Where do I go when I’m upset?” Again, another question you can answer.

“Harry—”

“How did I get the scar on my chin?” That’s a special question. You gave it to him the day you met.

You sigh, knowing where he’s going with this. He’s not understanding what you’re trying to tell him and it infuriates you.

You tap the tips of your fingers on the countertop, feeling anxious, “That’s not what I—”

“You do know me, Y/N. we don’t need to speak every two seconds or braid each other’s hair to know each other well.”

Your eyes begin to prick with tears. That isn’t what you meant and he knows that.

“That’s not what I meant.” You lower your voice as it threatens to crack.

“Then what did you mean, Bunny?” He crosses his arms and stares at you, waiting on an explanation.

You groan, throwing your head in your hands.

The truth is, you can explain. You can explain everything you’re feeling well. But is that going to get you anywhere right now? Maybe. Maybe not. You have a better idea.

“Do you consider me a friend?”

Harry’s face drops. You can tell that he’s upset and borderline offended that you’re even asking that question.

Of course you’re friends. You’ve been friends for years. He adores you. Why can’t you see that he adores you?

“Bunny..” He takes a step towards you, and you take one back.

“Do you?” You insist on getting a solid answer.

“Of course I consider you a fr—”

“Don’t lie.” You cross your arms over your chest.

“I’m not—”

“Tell me something real, Harry. Please. God, please just tell me something that isn’t base level for once,” You beg, “Tell me something true.”

He raises his eyebrows slightly. He’s taken back. He wasn’t expecting that from you at all.

He stays silent.

“You can’t, can you?” You scoff at him, not knowing why you expected anything to come from this conversation. You should’ve known better than to be hopeful about how things were going to go with Harry..because it’s Harry, “I don’t know why I thought you’d—“

“I still smoke cigarettes.” Harry cuts you off, blurting out an admission. He tenses his jaw in realisation—he’s just as shocked as you are.

Oh.

Your eyes widen at his confesion. Harry’s been gloating to everyone about how he so easily quit smoking three months ago. You’re all so proud of him, considering how difficult it is to quit something cold turkey the way he did. The rest of you haven’t been able to shake the bad habit. Apparently, neither has he.

“You do?” You question.

He nods, “Less. But I do.”

“Why?”

He almost smiles at your question, “Why do I smoke?”

“Why did you lie about it?”

He sighs, looking down as he answers you, “Everyone’s got something, right? Sarah and Mitch have their relationship, Niall has his singing, Lewis has his stand-up every Friday, you have your double degree. I just wanted something that everyone could be proud of. Felt like something small like that would’ve been manageable to keep hidden from everyone.”

You frown, “Harry..”

“No,” He shakes his head, refusing to let you feel sorry for him, “No. Seriously, no. We’re not about to do pity. That’s not what we do with each other.”

“Okay,” You clear your throat and agree to let it go, grabbing a now filled shot glass and handing it over to him, “Drink?”

He smirks at you, silently thanking you as he reaches forward and takes the shot glass from you.

“Sorry for calling you a bitch.” He murmurs, offering you a small, sincere smile.

You give him one back, “Sorry for being one.”

His small smile turns into a grin.

“To the truth.” You hold your glass up to cheers his with.

“To the fuckin’ truth.”

You both down your shots and tap them down on the counter to gesture for the bartender to refill them. He complies and neither of you waste a second to down the next ones. Over and over, shot after shot, you continue to drink until you’re buzzed.

You’re both good at handling your liquor, and you know how much you can take. By the time you’re done with your shots, you’re over the moon. Buzzed and aware. Aware of what you feel, aware of where you are, aware of who you’re with. Aware.

Harry leans down, his face dangerously close to yours. He’s never been this close, you don’t think. You’ve never seen his face so clearly, you’ve never seen his chest tattoos so well, his necklace dangling, his—

“Should we go dance with the others now, you think?” He speaks into your ear and you feel your stomach beginning to erupt with nerves.

“Yeah,” You inhale sharply, nodding, “Sure.”

Harry grabs your hand and leads you through the crowd, keeping a hold of you even when you reach where your friends are. The contact is strange but you welcome it, liking the new barrier that’s being broken between the two of you.

Over the years, you’ve noticed how touchy he can get when he’s under the influence, so you have an idea of what you’re getting into. You like being on the receiving end for once. You could get used to this side of Harry. You like being his friend. His real friend.

Once you get to where the others are, you quickly gauge what they’re all doing. Mitch and Sarah are in their own little world as usual, dancing together as if it’s their wedding night. Niall’s dancing with a random girl he’s probably going home with later tonight and Lewis is making a fool of himself in the middle of them. Ah, friendship. You love to see it.

“Nice song, yeah?” Harry leans over to your ear, speaking over the music. The song playing is one of your all time favourites—Wet Dream by WetLeg.

Anyone who knows you, knows the way you feel about this song. It’s become tradition to play it everytime you carpool. A fine tradition, you think.

“Oh, the best.” You start bopping your head to the beat of the song, singing along with the lyrics you know and love.

“I was in your wet dream driving in my caaar, saw you at the side of the road, there’s no one else around you’re touching yourself, touching yourself—“ You start yelling out the words along with everyone else on the dance floor, shaking your head side to side and dramatising every word. Harry watches you and smirks, letting you have your moment.

“You said—“

You’re about to keep singing the next part when he beats you to it, “Baby do you want to come home with me? I got Buffalo ‘66 on dvd!”

You let out a surprised laugh at the fact that Harry even knows the words to the song, loving that you’re seeing this side to him. You’d never expect to have something as simple as loving a song like this in common, but here you are.

Beam me up—beam me up!

Count me in—count me in!

Three, two, one—three, two, one!

Let's begin!

The song continues and you realise that you’ve both been staring at each other for a good ten seconds in silence, just taking in the sight of each other. Harry really is beautiful. The way his hair hangs perfectly below his shoulders. The way his dimples show at the smallest hint of a smile. The way his eyes burn into yours. You never want to see anything else. Just him. Just Harry.

“I was in your wet dream, driving in my caaaar!” Harry’s voice breaks you out of your daydream, and you laugh as he grabs your hands, dancing with you to the beat of the song.

“What makes you think you're good enough to think about me when you're touching yourself?” You continue the song and he pretends to be shocked, acting out the song with you.

“You climb onto the bonnet and you’re licking the windscreen! I’ve never seen anything so obscene!” You both sing the next part together, leaning in close to each other’s faces and practically screaming with the biggest smiles on your faces, “It’s enough! To make a girl blush! It’s enough! It’s enough to make a girl blush!”

The rest of the song plays and you both continue to scream out every word, making the most of the moment you’re having and hoping it never ends. Neither of you are sure what’s going on but neither of you are complaining. You’re both witnessing a new side to each other and you’re enjoying it. Perhaps you were made to be best friends like the others. Maybe it was meant to happen like this.

The song eventually comes to an end and you both let out a deep sigh, catching your breath for a moment as another random song plays.

Harry looks down at you with parted lips, “Nice singing, Bunny.”

“Could say the same to you, H.” You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you. The move is natural and you don’t put too much thought into it. Neither does Harry.

His hands find their way to your waist and you both sway in time with the music, singing the lyrics into each other’s faces and having the time of your lives.

“I haven’t had sex in 5 months!” His voice is just loud enough for you to hear over the music.

Your eyebrows furrow, “What?”

He leans closer to your face, “I said—I said I haven’t had—”

“No I—I heard you H,” You chuckle, “I’m just a little—”

“Surprised? Yeah me too.” He grins at you, suddenly seeming to be completely comfortable with you in a way you never expected, “I stole that chocolate bar from you last week by the way, it wasn’t Niall.”

You laugh for a moment at his strange confessions until you process what he just told you, “Wait that was you?”

 “Loud ‘n proud, bunny.” He grins proudly.

“You—you fucker!” You gasp, playfully hitting his chest with one of your hands, keeping the other where it was around his neck.

 He chuckles, playing along, “Did you forget what I just—”

“Shut up!”

You both laugh, continuing to move your bodies together.

“What about you? Tell me something true.”

You purse your lips together, trying to come up with something to tell Harry. There’s a million things you could tell him, but you want to catch him off guard. You want to see an honest, raw reaction from him.

“I think you’re really pretty.” You finally say, shrugging your shoulders.

Harry raises his eyebrows at you, unsure if you’re being serious. “Pretty?”

You nod.

He tilts his head for a moment, “Weird choice of words.”

“I don’t think so,” You smile at him, “You’re a pretty boy.”

He smiles back, “You’re a pretty bunny.”

“We’re pretty.”

“We are.”

You both smile at each other and share a brief moment. A moment of what—you’re not sure. Two friends being supportive of each other? Two friends suddenly becoming closer and making the most of it? Two friends two friends two friends—

The next song begins playing and your heart begins to pace more. Desire, Meg Myers.

The two of you exchange a look, knowing that you won’t move together to this song the same way you have been for the others.

You know that you won’t be singing along with this one. You’d rather feel it. Feel Harry.

You move your hands away from around Harry’s neck, and he keeps his on your waist, holding you close. You move your hands down and place them over his, feeling electric all of a sudden.

Baby, I wanna fuck you

I wanna feel you in my bones

The song is loud and the coloured lights are flashing red. The atmosphere has changed—not only in the bar and on the dance floor, but between you and Harry. The way he’s looking at you is different. The way you’re looking at him is different. The way he’s touching you is different. The way you’re touching him is different.

I’m gonna tear into your soul

You begin to sway your hips to the beat of the song, holding your eyes over Harry’s. Neither of you dare to look away. You wouldn’t dream of it.

How do you want me?

You begin to turn your body in time with the music, turning your back to Harry. He leans his head down, resting his head on your shoulder and keeping his hands by your waist as you continue to move against each other. You feel a surge of confidence—you’re not sure if it’s the song, if it’s the alcohol, if it’s Harry’s random confessions, if it’s the feelings you’ve been suppressing from him for years—but it’s here. It’s here and you’re about to make the most of it.

Yeah I gotta hurt you, I gotta hear it from your mouth

Boy, I wanna taste you, I wanna skin you with my tongue

I’m gonna kill you

You lean your ass back, moving it against Harry’s crotch. He sucks in a breath, and the only way you know it is because you feel his teeth graze the skin of your bare shoulder. Your eyes close at the feeling and you grow bolder, moving the same way a second time.

He tightens his grip on your waist. You can feel the bulge of his cock against your ass and you can only imagine how much it’s straining against the band of his jenas. You almost pity him. Almost.

I wanna feel you

I want it all

I wanna feel you

I want it all

You continue moving against Harry, enjoying his little reactions to your touch. To the way you feel. He begins trailing kisses down your neck, applying pressure and sucking on your skin. You still. You can’t focus on anything but the way his lips feel against you.

What’s going on between you both? What the fuck is happening? Why the fuck has it taken so long? Why couldn’t it happen sooner?

So many questions.

“Bunny,” Harry groans against your shoulder, placing one last kiss to your neck before moving his mouth to your ear, “Tell me something true.”

You know exactly what you want to say. Again, there’s so much you want to tell him. You want to tell him how good he feels against you, how much you love the way he moves his body against yours. You want to tell him that you feel the connection now. You want to tell him that you know he can feel it too. There’s so much to say, but you settle for the most simple thing. The most important one.

“I want you.”

•••

aaahhhh!!! i’m sososo proud of this one. idk why but this shot has a special place in my heart. the smut will be included in the second part. and believe me, it’s gonna be SMUT. i’m such a whore for angst n this friendship trope is just chef’s kiss.

anyway enough chat. i hope y'all enjoyed reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <3 if you liked what you read then please reblog n comment. feel free to suggest ideas for new posts too.

have a good day or night wherever you are n stay safe, always <3

- k

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lumosandnoxwriting · 2 years

Text

Unexpected Visitor || Fred Weasley

Title: Unexpected Visitor Summary: Fred’s day doesn’t go as planned when an unexpected visitor shows up at his office Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI! This contains, daddy kink, breeding kink, cockwarming, unportected vaginal sex, dirty talk, degradation. A/N: ceo!fred is back!!! Also pls creampie responsibly! Tags: @pandaxnienke @raerae27 @hufflrpuffforfred @theweasleysredhair @dracoswhore007 @amourtentiaa @lexymoniqu @p0tat0nug @levylovegood @mischiefisbeingmanaged @littleweaslette @inglourious-imagines @darthwheezely @rosaliepostsstuff @prismarts @thisismysketchbook @freds-slut @izzyyy-1 @gwhogwartslover @rqmanoff @amarabln @hey-kenna @haroldpotterson @fancy-pantaloons @fand0mskullfa1ry

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

“Mr. Weasley, your wife is here to see you.”

Fred can’t help the smile that tugs on the corners of his mouth as his secretary’s voice comes through the intercom on his desk and he immediately reaches forward to hit the button that allows him to answer her.

“You can send her in, thanks Sherri.”

Leaning back in his chair Fred beckons Y/N closer as she steps through the door, pushing back from his desk so he can pull her into his lap as soon as she’s within reach. “Well, well, well,” he drawls, one arm wrapping around her waist while the other cups her cheek so he can thread his fingers through her hair, “What a nice surprise this is.”

Y/N grins at Fred, gently gripping his chin before tilting his head back so she can press a soft kiss to his lips. “I was running some errands in the neighborhood, figured I’d stop in to say hi.”

Fred hums in reply, eyes drifting closed as he pulls her in for a longer kiss. It feels so much like it used to in the early stages of their relationship, back when Y/N was his secretary and she’d find any excuse to sneak into his office for a few stolen moments. He chuckles as their lips part and lets her pull away just enough so that he can look at her face fully.

“You sure you’re not just trying to relive the good days, eh?” he teases, giving Y/N a grin. “If you really miss working here that much I’m sure Sherri wouldn’t mind being reassigned somewhere so you can have your old job back.”

“You’re such a prat,” Y/N admonishes with an eyeroll, shaking her head fondly. “I much prefer spending all of your money, rather than helping you make it.”

“Ah, and here I thought you loved me for something else big and thick in my pants, not my wallet,” Fred jokes, letting out a laugh when Y/N smacks him on the chest.

“Can’t I love both?” Y/N responds with a grin. Her thumb just barely brushes Fred’s bottom lip, her own caught between her teeth as she looks at him. “Can I tell you the real reason why I’m here?”

The breathy quality that Y/N’s voice has taken on makes Fred’s cock twitch in his trousers, and all he can do for a moment is nod as his brain struggles to come up with a coherent thought. “Of course, baby. Tell Daddy why you came to see him.”

A shiver runs down Y/N’s back as she shifts on Fred’s lap, thighs squeezing together in a way that’s supposed to be subtle, but doesn’t get past him. “I need you,” she whispers, shifting so that she’s now straddling Fred’s lap rather than sitting sideways across it. “I woke up this morning and the bed was so empty and my cunt was throbbing but my Daddy wasn’t there to make it feel better. And I tried to use my toys and my fingers but they’re not you,” Y/N whines before a breathy moan leaves her lips and hips shift so she can grind her cunt against Fred’s hardening cock.

“Fuck,” Fred groans. He grips Y/N’s hips with his hands, fingers digging into the flesh of her sides so hard her dress starts to drag up from her thighs and over the curve of her ass. “Your pretty little cunt was so desperate for my cock that you had to come all the way here to see me, baby? Needed me so badly that you couldn’t wait for me to get home?”

Y/N whines as she nods, hips rolling to get the friction she so desperately needs. “Yes, Daddy, yes,” she manages to choke out, fingers gripping Fred’s shoulders for dear life.

“Oh baby,” Fred tuts, shaking his head patronizingly. He presses his lips together to keep a grin from spreading as an idea pops into his head, and he takes a moment to compose himself before continuing. “Thank you for being so honest with Daddy, and this was really such a nice surprise but,” he pauses as Y/N’s hips immediately still, allowing himself to give her a small smile. “But I’ve got so much work to do today, baby. After all, you know how important Daddy is, and how can I keep paying the AmEx bill if I spend all day with my cock buried in your cunt instead of working?”

Fred shifts forward slightly and kisses Y/N briefly. “So thank you so much for the visit, baby. But I really have to get back to work now.”

“Daddy, no, please,” Y/N begs, pulling herself even closer to Fred. “I’ll be such a good girl, Daddy, I promise. You won’t even know I’m here. You can even keep working, please.”

“Yeah?” Fred asks, unable to keep the shit eating grin off of his face. “You’re so desperate for my cock you’d just sit here in my lap for the rest of the day, keeping it nice and warm in your cunt while I work?”

“Yes,” Y/N responds breathlessly, hips once again starting to grind down against him. “I promise Daddy, please.”

Rather than respond, Fred shifts Y/N down further on his lap so his hands can work on the closure of his trousers. As he shoves his pants and boxers down his hip Y/N lifts the hem of her dress, exposing her bare cunt to the air of the room. “Dirty girl,” he groans, cock twitching as he pulls it free.

Not needing any more of an invitation, Y/N lifts herself up on her knees, letting the tip of Fred’s cock drag through her wetness before notching it at the entrance to her cunt and sinking down onto him. She lets out a breathy moan while Fred buries his noise of pleasure in her hair, hips moving until their bodies are flush together.

“Fuck, that’s my girl,” Fred praises as Y/N settles in his lap, his cock twtiching as her cunt squeezes around him. “Such a good fucking cocksleeve, princess,” he groans, hands gripping her hips for a brief moment before releasing her. “Now sit here nice and pretty while Daddy gets back to work.”

Soon Fred’s rhythmic typing on his keyboard and Y/N’s soft pants are the only noises that fill the room. She can’t help but clench her cunt around him, head resting on Fred’s shoulder with her face pressed into his neck. Y/N can feel how wet her cunt is, and she’s sure that the front of Fred’s trousers are already soaked through.

All she can feel is Fred’s cock, feel the way is stretching her in the way her body had been craving. Every slight movement of her body seems to shift his cock even deeper, and Y/N’s thighs tremble as Fred’s cock head presses against the spot in her cunt that makes her eyes roll to the back of her head. It’s taking every ounce of willpower she possesses not to just take what she wants, to just rock in Fred’s lap until she’s cumming all over his cock, consequences be damned.

As if sensing her inner battle Fred presses one of his hands against Y/N’s lower back, pressing them even closer together in a way that makes her whine. “Perfect little cunt,” Fred murmurs, keeping his eyes focused on his work as Y/N squirms in his lap. “This fucking cunt was made for me, wasn’t it, princess?”

A humorless chuckle passes through Fred’s lips as all Y/N manages to do is nod, his cock twitching as her cunt pulses around him. “This fucking cunt is mine,” he continues, voice low. “Mine to touch, mine to play with, mine to fuck.” Suddenly Fred thrusts his hips up, making Y/N gasp sharply. “Mine to fucking breed,” he practically growls, making her shiver in his lap.

“That’s what you want, isn’t it, baby?” he questions. “Put on this fucking dress without anything underneath it and came all the way over here so that I’d stuff you with my cock and my cum until you’re fucking full of my baby. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes,” Y/N responds, unable to sit still any longer. She starts to slowly rock her hips, letting quiet moans fall from her lips as her clit brushes against Fred’s pubic bone. “I want it so bad Daddy, please.”

“So fucking desperate for it,” Fred starts, letting himself fully give in to her. He places his hands on her hips, slowly helping guide her movements. “Don’t worry baby, Daddy’s gonna give you just what you fucking want. Gonna fill this cunt up until you’re full, princess. Full of my cock, my cum, my baby. Make sure everyone knows who this slutty little cunt belongs to.”

That’s all it takes to push Y/N to the edge and with a few more rocks of her hips she’s cumming, a whine of Fred’s name falling from her mouth as her toes curl and her cunt clenches around his cock. Fred uses his grip on her hips to keep her moving in his lap, his own hips shifting to fuck up into Y/N as he works towards his own orgasm.

“That’s it, princess,” Fred coos as he fucks her, fingers digging into her hips. “Soak my cock, baby, make a mess in Daddy’s lap.”

Fred’s words mixed with the way he’s fucking her quickly push Y/N over the edge once again, tears falling from the corners of her eyes as her cunt pulses around him in an another orgasm. Fred holds her through it, his hips pumping erratically as he furiously chases his own orgasm.

After one, two, three more thrusts of his hips he presses Y/N down against his lap tightly, getting his cock as deep inside of her as he can, his cock twitching with his orgasm as he fills her up just as he’d promised.

He keeps her on his lap as they both come down, one hand rubbing her back soothingly as he takes a deep breath. As soon as he feels under control Fred leans forward and hits the button on his intercom.

“Sherri? Why don’t you head out early. I’m just going to finish a few things up and then I’m taking Y/N out for an early dinner, have a good weekend.”

Fred presses a kiss to Y/N’s head as Sherri thanks him, and he carefully pushes away from his desk before slowly standing up. He holds Y/N tight to his body, softening cock still buried in her cunt as he carries her over to the sofa. It’s not until she’s carefully laid out on the couch, throw pillow holding up her hips that Fred pulls out of her cunt, both of them letting out a soft groan.

“Fred,” Y/N gasps as his fingers suddenly enter her, hips twitching at the zing of pleasure it sends up her spine.

“Shh,” Fred coos, giving her a wink. “Just putting it all back where it belongs, baby. Now be a good girl and keep this all inside where it belongs while I finish a few things up, and Daddy will give you more before we go home.”

#Fred Weasley #Fred Weasley imagine #Fred Weasley smut #fw #golden

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