#{x; Blood is thicker then water}

[vellichorbindery]

Crimson Rivers—bound for a friend for personal use only.

I’m so in love with how these turned out and put my entire heart into them. Mistakes were made, screaming ensued, procrastination was a bitch but we did ittttt.

Thank you so so much to @alexsays-no @crownvus @aoarcturus for letting me use your gorgeous work for these binds 😭😭🫶🏼🥹😘🥰 I appreciate y’all so much!

And thank you to bizarrestars for writing one of my favorite stories that have stuck with me since I finished it months ago.

[fantasylandbitch]

Summary: You and Sam have been friends since elementary school going through the throws of being preteens just enjoying life and trying to figure out what you both wanted to do with your lives. But one night in Sam’s life changes the course of your own in high school leaving a rift in your relationship with Sam and your little sister. (Fic Requested by @spidey2-9 )

Warnings: Some Cussing, Mention of blood, Mention of Drugs,  Suggestive Themes

Part 1 Part 2 (Coming Soon)

Five years ago in Woodboro, California 

You remember the wind in your hair and how your cheeks would hurt from smiling at something Sam said. It was during your drive over to this small little diner you girls would frequent in Woodsboro. You girls would even go as far as to bring Kirby along for the ride but at the time she was hanging out with Jill so it was just you and Sam on a winter afternoon. But without Kirby being there to help distract you from where your mind would wander, your heart kept pounding against your ribcage as you parked your car in front of the diner before heading inside with your best friend. You remember you both would look at each other, you looking at Sam’s onyx brown eyes while she looked at your e/c ones, it felt odd to you, foreign to feel this nervous around your best friend while bundled up in your baggy yellow sweater and orange & black checkered sherpa jacket. You weren’t sure what to make of these feelings because you were just a teenager, you didn’t think about looking up these feelings you harbored for her.

“You have been quiet and staring at me for the past two minutes Freeman..” Sam started. “What are you thinking about?” she asked you from across the table with a slightly tired smile, pulling your attention away from the feeling.

“Um” you started, thinking about what to say to her “Nothing much..I guess I was thinking about what I was planning to do after high school and..” you said with a smile before thinking again as Sam was going to open her mouth. “And what great things you were going to do with your life” you admitted to your best friend because you had high hopes for Sam to do the right thing with her life.

For a moment your words left Sam speechless because even though she's been doing drugs and living a life of crime she is always amazed by how you have faith in her to be greater than she was the day, week, and month before. Sam smiles for a minute at you before scoffing at what you had said. “Speak for yourself Y/n” she replies, causing your smile to drop for a second as a waiter comes by with your food and drinks.

“Thank you,” you said to the waiter before looking back at Sam. “Am I wrong for thinking that Sam?” You asked her as you lowered your head to take a bite out of your chocolate chip pancake. “I think people forget that everyone has a pace they walk at so those few people who say ‘Back in my day while going through my high school career I knew exactly what I wanted to pursue after I got out’ are not always right,” you said in a funny old person voice causing Sam to laugh. 

“Not with that voice,” Sam said laughing at your old person impression as you smiled. “But I appreciate that you have faith in my ability to be better,” Sam said with a smile before digging into the breakfast you picked for her. However, her smile left her face for a moment as she covered her mouth with a napkin, cleaning herself up. She couldn't help but replay what you had said to her. Because Sam knows that for her to do great things in her life such as get cleaned and leave the life of crime. That would require her to leave Woodsboro. It was something Sam's been meaning to do for a while ever since she found out who she was, the realization that Mr. Carpenter wasn’t her real father and the traumatizing experience that followed after. Information she found in the attic where some things were meant to be forgotten. It left her afraid and voiceless, she couldn't tell you nor Kirby about what’s been really going on with her in fear that maybe you both would view her differently. At this point, she knows going home isn’t an option for her. “This food is really good. You picked a good dish for me to order” Sam compliments your taste on the new dish you picked out for her to try.

“Thanks, I’m learning that I’m an adventurous eater,” you say back with a smile as you pick up the straws for you and Sam. You break the casing that once protected the straws before carefully placing them separately in both of your drinks with a smile. Without you noticing, Sam admires your face and how you're smiling so brightly in front of her, it’s contagious. But it also hurts her heart. Because Sam realizes that right now she has to burn you and everything about you into her memory. Your voice. Your laugh. Your Smile. Your eyes. Your personality.

“That’s good. Maybe one day you can hang out at my place and I can make you something” Sam said to you with a bright smile and you smiled just as brightly at her with a nod before you both bought dessert and coffee after.

However, when later came that you had to drive Sam home, you and Sam wouldn’t stop talking the entire drive back. Talking about everything and nothing like you both weren’t sure you would ever see each other ever again. Until you arrived at her house and Sam gave you a quick side hug before getting out of your car. It was unlike her so you put your car in park before turning it off to join Sam on the sidewalk. “You know Sammy, I’m looking forward to eating any meals you make in the future,” you tell your best friend as you stand side by side with Sam while looking at her childhood home together. 

Then you hear Sam take a deep breath “I look forward to seeing the faces you make” she replied before turning to you to give you a proper hug. Her arms wrapped around your torso and pulled you closer into her body as she hid her face in your shoulder. You slowly start to notice that her hug was long which surprised you because you know that Sam is known for only giving hugs like this to her little sister while she gave her friends relatively short lived hugs.

“Oooh Sam” you whispered, you wrapped your arms around Sam as you gave her a controlled bear hug that Sam loves so much while she tightened her arms around you. Her hug left you quiet as you comfortably propped your chin on her shoulder getting a whiff of her perfume on her jacket as you felt Sam move her head. The skin of her cheek touched the skin of your neck like she was nuzzling you while you suddenly felt emotional. Your chest started to feel heavy while your eyes began to water causing you to hug your best friend tightly while also trying to keep it together so when Sam pulled away you started wiping your face. 

“Y/n” Sam whispers your name. “Why are you crying?” she asked you with concern, you shook your head not knowing why before wiping the tears off your face as you took a step back in shame but Sam wouldn’t have that as she stepped forward trying not to cry herself as she brought you in for another hug. “Sssh you’ll see me again soon,” she said lying to you while your body shook in her embrace. You nodded into her shoulder and it prompted Sam to kiss your cheek because the last thing she wanted to do was make you cry before she left Woodsboro in secret. 

But that was five years ago. Five long years that left you wondering if you could have changed her mind had you known she was going to leave Tara and you behind. Over time you slowly started to blame yourself for her leaving because you felt like maybe you had pushed her too far to change. Because deep down you knew that something was going on with your best friend, Sam would never look like she was tired so inside you knew she had to leave whatever toxic environment she was in.  You just didn’t know it was going to be a few days after Tara’s birthday. But knowing that didn’t make the pain go away and it didn’t make the struggles you were going through in Woodsboro any easier. It just made you quieter, angry and closed off. Regardless of how you felt about the matter, in her absence, you took care of Tara like she was your sister, however, nothing could have prepared you for the horrors that befell the Carpenter household years later.

Five years later,

You find yourself sitting on a couch in Tara’s hospital room wearing your pajamas with a duffle bag full of spare clothes for Tara as well as yourself along with your phone charger. You find yourself listening to the environment around you as you plug your phone charger into the wall behind the couch. The sounds you can hear in the empty hospital are Tara’s vitals and her snores from across the room. “Who would do this to you Tara?” you whisper to the little Carpenter knowing she was asleep from the pain while her mom and older sister were doing god knows what. The whole ordeal keeps you up as your eyes scan the room trying to find answers in seemingly nothing, eventually, you get up from the couch to survey the hallway for any threats before your brain leads your eyes to your cell phone. The first thought that comes across your brain is to make a group chat that consists of your friends Mindy, Chad, Wes, and your little sister Amber. You wanted to make sure that they all knew why their best friend was not coming to school this week.

You texted while pacing in the small room that you and Tara occupied before you lowered your phone for a second when a thought crossed your mind. ‘I should let Sam know what happened to her sister’ you thought to yourself as you pulled your phone up to go to your contacts to find Sam’s phone number but when you went to text her your fingers froze. You slowly sat down on the arm of the couch wondering if Sam would even text you back because over the years you've sent her happy birthday messages to celebrate her existence. But at the same time you also wanted to know if she was okay but not once did she ever read your messages making you eventually give up. You turn your head to look over at Tara for comfort as you take a deep breath before looking at your phone hoping on some miracle she would text you back especially if it's an emergency but when you did finally text Sam something came up in your messages.

“Oh go fuck yourself,” you said aloud getting up from the couch before covering your mouth. You remember where you were. You quickly look over at Tara hoping you didn’t wake her up as relief slowly washes over you before making the gesture to throw your phone at the wall without actually doing it. You were mad and insulted that Sam would block you when Tara needed her the most. It eventually left you in tears because you felt like you weren't equipped to handle this type of situation, not on your own, with Tara being almost murdered by someone in the middle of the night. You wondered who would want to kill Tara and if they would come back to finish the job. The thought of the killer somehow entering the hospital kept you up as you sat back down on the couch putting your phone down at one end of the couch while you sat at the other end, distancing yourself. Then you began dragging your hands down your face in an attempt to calm down while you kept your eye on the only entrance to the room for a little while.

When the sun eventually rose high in the sky you were still awake just sitting on the couch. Still watching the entrance to the room hoping a nurse or a doctor or a familiar face would come walking in and not the killer because you may have changed physically but as far as you know you're no wrestler, maybe aiming to be a powerlifter sure, or (pick your beautiful body) but nothing unrealistic. However, whenever you would use the bathroom in the room you would make sure to check if there was anyone behind the shower curtain before using the toilet. But you also left the bathroom door open just in case you needed to give the killer e coli poisoning if you really had to fight him. Thankfully, no one entered the room before and after you were done using the bathroom because you didn’t want to resort to an unusual way of taking someone out. However, Tara was still asleep and you were still wearing blood stained clothes from the night before when you had rushed into the Carpenter home to get to Tara. The events from the previous night replaying in your head. You remember barreling through the front door seeing the carnage that was left behind by Tara’s attacker and the blood trail that led to the kitchen where you found her. You remember getting a blanket from the living room to practically wrap her up in, so you can get her into your car because the police in town were taking too fucking long. Regardless of what you had witnessed you weren’t comfortable turning your back for a second to change your clothes so when the time finally struck six, you felt your phone vibrate once, twice, and now three times letting you know that you were receiving a text message from the other side of the couch. You were so tired that you had to drag yourself across the furniture like a dog dragging their ass across the floor to get to your phone before you opened it.

Hours later when the hospital is bustling with life you find yourself trying to fight sleep and the need to eat something because once again you weren’t comfortable leaving Tara’s side when she’s hurt like this. You were practically her support human and guard dog so when Tara woke up she turned her head towards you.

“What are you still doing here?” she asked you with a hoarse voice, wondering why you were still at the hospital with her before her eyes gravitated down to your pajamas.

“What? A girl can’t stay by your side for the night?” you replied to Tara with a tired look trying not to slur your words and keep your eyes focused on her.

“Is that..blood on your pajamas?” Tara asked you with a horrified look on her face and at this point, you could care less about what you look like right now.

“What else would it be Tar-a?” you slurred with a tired smile before you both looked over at the door to the room when it opened causing you to quickly get up despite how tired you were, grabbing the rail at the end of her bed to steady yourself. You both notice Mindy, your little sister Amber, Wes, and Chad walk into the room with different emotions like relief, happiness, concern, and shock. “I am so glad that I don’t have to fight anyone right now…” you say feeling miserable when your sister says something to you.

“You look like shit Y/n,” Amber said seriously to you along with a sour look on her face.

“Why is that the first thing that comes out of your mouth Amber?” Mindy inquired, the concerned expression leaving her face before she replaced it with a serious one as she looked over at Amber because she hated how your little sister was rude to you. 

“Yeah, well, Mindy, I feel like shit” you replied in response to what your little sister and Mindy said. Because you felt like death while watching Wes and Chad enter the room before sitting on the couch again as Mindy took residence next to you while your little sister sat next to Tara on the hospital bed. 

“Oh geez Y/n. You look like you need some sleep” you hear Wes say to you as he walks in quickly looking you over to make sure you aren’t bleeding before looking at Tara.

“Yeah and a shower,” Chad says to you after closing the door behind him. “Maybe you should shower in the bathroom while we hang out with Tara. I’ll go get a few towels for you.” Chad says before heading out of the room just as you were going to open your mouth but instead, it was replaced by a heavy sigh. 

“Chad’s right Y/n,” Mindy says aloud while turning her head to look at you while making herself more comfortable on the couch next to you. “We’re here now so you can go take care of yourself after Chad comes back with a few towels,” she says, leaving you no room to say no to her making Wes, Tara, and Amber look over at you and for a moment you feel vulnerable under the eyes of the kids you used to babysit with Sam.

Mindy could tell that her words had reached you because you had slowly turned your head to look at her. She can also tell that behind your eyes you were thinking of rejecting her brother’s idea of you taking care of yourself while they look after Tara. She knows you’ve been through a lot over the years and she just wants what's best for you. Thankfully Mindy hears you take a deep breath. “Fine,” you said softly just as Chad walked into the room with a few towels to hand to you, Wes watching as you reached for your duffle bag before standing up taking the towels from Chad, and retreating into the bathroom in the room. 

“I’ll go get food from the food court for Y/n I’m sure she hasn’t eaten in a while so I’ll be right back,” Wes says hoping to find some protein for you to eat while letting Chad and Mindy know where he was going before leaving the room. Wes wanted to make sure you had food to eat because growing up he’s seen how you would get irritable in front of him before Sam came to everyone’s rescue by giving you eggs or a sandwich she bought from the store.

“Why is Wes getting Y/n food? My older sister has legs she can get it herself after she takes a shower” Amber says with irritation as she throws daggers at the bathroom door with her eyes causing Chad and Mindy to look at each other. 

“Leave Y/n alone” Tara spoke up tiredly not always agreeing with her complaints about you before hearing her mother’s ringtone. “Amber, can you get my phone off the table?” Tara asked your sister and Amber nodded before getting off the bed to retrieve Tara her phone. 

“Here's your phone,” Amber said in a calm voice handing Tara her phone while she sat back down on the bed next to her.

An hour later.

You open the door to the bathroom with fresh new clothes on and feel a little more awake while you look at the bloodied clothes and towels in one hand while in your other hand the duffle bag you brought into the bathroom with you. “Guys I’ll be right back I just have to put these clothes and towels in a hazard disposal bin somewhere in the hosp-” you announced before looking up to lock eyes with a familiar pair of onyx brown orbs.

“Y/n?” Sam said with surprise as she laid her eyes on you after hugging Wes. She couldn’t believe how much you’d changed in five years like how your face filled in with the rest of your body, how different your hair looked, how your eyes looked kinder than the last day she saw them, and your lips..she had to shake her head. After she watched you take a step back to put down your duffle bag next to the couch in the room and for a second she was hoping you would say something to her before collecting herself, taking a deep breath. “These are the kids I used to babysit and that woman right there is Y/n. My best friend who also helped raise them with me” she says introducing you guys to her boyfriend before looking over at your little sister “And Amber. Hey!” Sam said awkwardly to her knowing Amber didn’t like her before her boyfriend introduced himself.

“Hi, I-I’m Richie.” Richie says to your little sister as he stumbled through his words with a ‘you look familiar’ and a slight ‘Awe’ in his eye which you found weird because you weren’t sure if the look meant that he's seen your sister before or that she just looked like another girl he might have dated.

Whatever it was, you didn't like it so you walked over to stand next to Amber near Tara’s bed. Your sudden presence makes Amber step an inch away as you try to intimidate Richie with your whole being. 

“Where’s mom?” Sam asked Tara with concern, wondering where she was before looking around the room and then out the window to the hallway.

“She’s stuck at a conference in London” Tara replied to Sam with a heavy sigh, which you and Sam noticed before she continued “She called me earlier.”

“Yeah, for all of ten minutes,” Amber said in a slightly aggravated tone making you look over at her before you and Sam looked at each other like you were having a conversation of your own.

“Look, I think Tara has had enough excitement for one day guys and she looks tired. Maybe we should give her some space to relax for the time being” you say aloud as you watch everyone slowly file out of the room including Richie. Then you turn around almost tripping over yourself before kneeling near the couch to get your phone charger out of the wall. Afterwards, you were planning to leave the hospital for a few hours to run errands knowing Tara is safe with her older sister not realizing you're being watched.

The Carpenter sisters watch as you slowly get up from retrieving your phone charger. Your steady actions prompted Tara to quietly tap her older sister's hand. “Yes, Tara?” Sam replied as she turned her head to look at her “What's up?” 

“You should talk to her” she replied to Sam knowing you've been struggling with a few things in your life like your mental health and the relationship with your own family. “I think after you left Woodboro she hasn't been the same” It seems to Tara that you've been cagey around her and her childhood friends even though you're allowed to confide in them. Then her eyes shifted from Sam to you watching as you tiredly made your way to the door when Sam grabbed your wrist.

The sudden grab causes you to stop walking just before the door to the room. “Are you planning to stay around after you dispose of your clothes?” Sam asked as she held your wrist with a soft but firm grip, looking up at you.

Her question makes you mad because you've been there for Tara for the past five years, it didn't make sense for her to ask you that question as you turn to reply. “What do you thi-” you started, feeling strong unpleasant emotions come up when Tara cleared her throat, the sound making you and Sam look over at her. Then you focus on Tara’s eyes noticing the steel look in them while Sam turns her head to look at you which gives the little Carpenter leeway to mouth to you to ‘relax’ so you take a deep breath before replying to her older sister. “Not exactly…I have to run some errands, maybe drop some of my kids off before coming back here to visit Tara and sleeping in my truck” you say with a shrug examining the room before your eyes settle on Sam’s face.

“Okay..well try not to stray too far,” Sam said to you as she looked down at her hand on your wrist when she noticed the light and dark scars on your arm as she rubbed her thumb across the pulse point of your wrist. “I…might need you,” she said to you with a look of worry like there might be a possibility you will turn your back on her but all she heard from you was a hum as she slowly lets go of your wrist so you can continue on your way before you remember to ask Tara a question.

“Hey Tara” you call her name causing Tara and Sam to look at you “Do you have your extra inhaler? Or do you need me to stop…by your house to get it?” you asked pausing when it came to her home because you still can’t get the images out of your head.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine” she replied to you with a tight smile which is unusual for you to see but you know she needs alone time with Sam so you nodded in understanding before heading out of the room. As you close the door behind you to give Sam and Tara room to catch up, you turn around to look at them through the glass window on the door observing how Sam and Tara interacted with each other after five years before looking over at your little sister and wondering if she would give you at least the benefit of the doubt of being close again.

“What are you looking at?” your little sister asked, as she watched you walk down the hallway to put your bloody clothes in a disposal bin near the waiting area. 

“Not at you. But I was thinking” you replied as you thought of a few ways to hang out with Amber before slowly smiling at her. “Wanna stop by Woodsboro’s Finest Diner on the way home to get shakes and fries? It’ll be my treat” you say trying to make your little sister take the bait to hang out with you like old times.

“Are you serious?” Amber replied, looking at you with a calm exterior but also in disbelief, crossing her arms. “My friend gets attacked in the middle of the night and your response to that is to smile and ask me about getting food?” she questioned you with irritation, flipping your invitation to hang out into a distraction that meant you had no regard for Tara’s well being. “Are you mentally ill? Oh, that's right you are.”

You look at your little sister silently, your heart aching while you feel yourself grow angry from her response because all you wanted to do was hang out and have that same beautiful sibling bond that Sam and Tara have. A bond that you once had with Amber. You're not sure where her distaste and hate for you came from as you heard Richie to your left trying to stifle a laugh at your situation. “Wait wait, that sounds like a fabulous idea Y/n!” you heard Mindy yell from the waiting area as you turned your head to see her, Chad, and Wes smiling.

“I agree that sounds like a tasteful idea” Chad added before standing up.

“I third that,” Wes says, shaking his head with a smile on his face. The three of them bring a light smile back to your face and a simmered attitude making you appreciate how they get excited by the smallest things like getting shakes and fries with you, causing you to nod.

“Alright then, I’ll go get the car,” you said to them before looking at your little sister. “Walk with me to the car Amber,” you told her, giving Amber no room to get out as she huffed loudly while following you to the entrance of the hospital. Amber watches as you open the door and how you let her walk past you but not before catching you turning your head. Because while she walked past you, you turned your head to lock eyes with Richie narrowing your eyes at him leaving him shivering. 

After you round up the kids you left the hospital parking lot to get shakes and fries while Wes stored the food he got for you from the food court into your small cooler. He wanted to make sure you had something to eat later before following you into Woodsboro’s Finest Diner with his friends. That way they could help you bring their orders to the car without dropping anything on the way back while your little sister waited for you in the truck playing games on her phone before she received a message from someone on Reddit.

Later that afternoon you drop the twins off at their house then you drop Wes at his home before his mom can send a search party and then finally you drive back home with Amber. When you two got home you made sure to prepare dinner as soon as you walked in considering your parents are away on a cruise which means you can cook hearty homemade meals for your little sister. After dinner is made you scoop your portion of dinner into a bowl and then head upstairs so you can relax in your bedroom.“Hey Amber I'm going to take a nap but I’ll be down in an hour” you say to your little sister and Amber nods her head.

“Yeah sure” she replied, turning her head to watch you go up the stairs before turning to her phone. Then Amber's eyes gravitated to a water bottle you own and your cooler and she smiled as she got up from her chair. She heads over to the counter to retrieve your water bottle and fill it with water before reaching into a drawer. For a moment Amber stopped her hand and stared at the drawer like she was trying to remember what she was getting before turning her palm upward having her forefinger and middle finger reach up into the ceiling of the drawer with a bigger smile. Because when Amber slowly pulled her fingers out from the kitchen drawer she pulled out a tiny bag with drugs in it. Her smile grew wider as she poured the contents from the tiny bag into your water bottle before hearing your alarm go off so she quickly stuffed your water bottle into your cooler before sitting back down and stuffing the tiny bag in her pocket.

You quickly walked out of your bedroom with your belongings and then ran down the stairs to the kitchen to put your bowl in the sink. Afterward, you opened the cabinet to get Tupperware to store the food that you made earlier for Sam and placed it into your cooler where you noticed that your water bottle was missing from the drying rack. Looking around the drying rack you ask your little sister “Hey Amber?” 

You called her name. “What is it Y/n?” She answered, her eyes never leaving her phone.

“Have you seen my water bottle?” You asked as you kept looking around before opening the cabinet full of cups your parents gathered over time. “I swear it was next to the drying rack when we got home,” you said after taking a deep breath before looking at your watch for the time.

Amber sighed before looking up at you “Check your cooler” she said to you next as she looked up to watch you go into your cooler to find your water bottle and you realize that it’s full causing you to smile at Amber. “Don’t say anything because you're just going to make things weird” she voiced as you put your bottle back into the cooler.

“I’m happy you still have a heart Amber thanks for looking out for me,” you say to your little sister showing her gratitude as you walk to the entrance to the house to get your keys.

“And there it is. That's the weirdness I was just talking about. What a loser” Amber says under breath as she follows behind you and you turn around to ask her a question at the door.

“Did you say something?” you asked Amber hoping you didn’t miss a ‘You’re welcome’ from her and all she did was shake her head as she slowly pushed you out the front door. “Okay see you later!” you yell as your sister closes the door on your face causing you to take a deep breath before walking to your car to drive back to the hospital. But while walking to your car you hear a bit of rustling to your left in the front yard causing you to stop walking for a moment as you wait and listen before looking around not feeling up to greeting whatever it may be like in those horror movies you would watch with Tara. However, when you decided to move from your spot you jumped “Holy shit!” you yelled at the sound of a black cat running out of the bush and onto your path making you sigh with relief as you slowly calmed down. “What the fuck are you doing out here Buddy,” you asked the cat, causing the neighborhood black cat named Buddy to look at you for a moment before he went on his way as you started walking to your truck and opening it to put your cooler down on the passenger seat. Then you hop into the driver's side and close the door before putting your seat belt on while checking around your car making sure no person or animal gets hurt as you put your key into the ignition and turn it on before driving away. 

While driving back to the hospital you slowly unzip the cooler that you have with you and at a red light you pick up the water bottle your little sister filled up and drank from it. At first, you didn’t feel anything while driving, you just felt normal as you tapped the steering wheel while listening to the radio and stopping at red lights and stop signs like you were supposed to, however, closer to the hospital you started feeling sleepy. You shrug it off, thinking maybe you didn’t get enough sleep because you lost sleep the night before and when you went home you only slept for an hour but thankfully you pulled into the parking lot of Woodsboro’s Community Hospital. Slowly but surely you pulled your truck into a parking spot closer to the street that was clear of cars before turning it off. Then you reach for the cooler in the passenger seat before stepping out of your car but in the process of getting out you end up missing the running board and fall to the floor almost hitting your face on the way down had you not braced yourself for impact. Although you kept your face intact you groaned from pain in your body watching as some of your belongings scattered across the asphalt road from the impact before you slowly looked up at the hospital seeing it spin in front of you before you passed out.

Part 1 Part 2 (Coming Soon)

This fic was requested by a fan named @spidey2-9 (Here is their ask). Initially, I was going to make a short story like you asked because I was doing research on how to make one. But the jokes were on me because my brain was like let's make a mini-series so I hope you and everyone who decides to read this enjoy!

Scream 5: When Our Blood is Thicker than the Water of the Womb Playlist

[moons-and-runes]

Gang I have officially started reading Crimson Rivers and I totally get the hype!!! I'm only a few chapters in, about to read the interviews and I'm so excited omg

(I may come out of this a jegulus shipper tbh...)

[is-on-its-way]

For Mulder, Scully is his touchstone

For Scully, Mulder is her covenant (biblical)

[glassy-eyed-poet]

The way I need Someone to Call Mine injected into my veins 😭. Literally the Percabeth song prove me wrong.

[allisluv]

blood runs thicker than water masterlist

chapter one -- the reaping

[biblio-smia]

blood runs thicker than water — two.

masterlist | requests are open!

pairing: eventual ethan landry x reader

warnings: mindy's monologues

[one.] [two.]

The day was grey and bleak, thick clouds rolled over Woodsboro. A shiver ran down your spine as a gust of cold air chilled you awake. Your trailer home didn't do much against the elements and fall was almost here. 

It was a Saturday. Th necessity of a school day did not wake you at seven a.m. like it did Monday through Friday; instead, a different necessity pulled you away from the warm mess of sheets on your bed.

「 … 」

Dewey Riley exited his room with slow, sluggish steps and a hand cradling his head in an attempt to shield his sensitive eyes from the morning light that peeked through the blinds. He stumbled towards the kitchen and fought to open the fridge with one hand, an ironic disappointment appearing on his face upon seeing it was full of fresh groceries.

"Good morning," you said softly as you came out of the bathroom, careful to keep your volume at a level safe for your father's headache — a tendency that was becoming more and more frequent. You reached up behind your dad to grab the brand new carton of eggs from the fridge.

"Did you get groceries?" Your dad questioned, not bothering to reply to your greeting. He was always a little prickly when he was hungover.

"Well, yeah. I kinda didn't wanna starve?" You laughed a little, though it became nervous upon seeing your dad's serious face. Confusion was taking over now, wondering why he didn't at least smile like he normally would — he was usually prickly, not pissed.

You shut the fridge as your dad leaned off it, his hands coming up to cross over his chest and you couldn't help but feel a shift and you went on the defensive.

"You went out by yourself? Without telling me?" It felt like an accusation of a crime, a tone you couldn't understand. You couldn't comprehend the sudden complaint when the two of you would be sitting here hungry if it hadn't been for you.

"It wasn't a problem before—"

"Well, it's a problem now. You don't go out by yourself, no matter what."

And you stood there, carton of eggs in hand and eyebrows furrowed in frustration as that tiny seed of resentment in your stomach threatened to grow, waiting for an explanation for the rash limitation your father had put on you — an explanation that wouldn't come as long as your father lived in denial.

He moved to pour himself a cup of coffee, not without some bourbon. You pretended not to notice, moving to make breakfast. That was your compromise. He could drink, but he had to eat whatever it was you made.

Your dad took a seat on the couch, turning on the TV. The news was already going. Your mother was on the screen, talking and laughing in a way you'd never seen before — sometimes she seemed more like a character far beyond your reach rather than your mother.

Your dad laughed at a joke she made, one you missed. With the alcohol and Good Morning with Gale Weathers, his face softened and you smiled at the scene, the anger and hurt you felt slowly fading. You walked over, handing your dad a plate of eggs and bacon, just the way he liked it. He smiled gratefully, placing a kiss on your forehead. You held your breath, the smell of alcohol stinging your nose.

A knock at the door interrupted your walk back to the kitchen and your father's face hardened again.

A voice called out from outside, one you'd never heard before.

"We're sorry to bother you, Mr. Riley, we just want to ask you a few questions -"

"I don't give interviews!" Your dad shouted, setting his plate aside and standing up.

You eyed your dad suspiciously. What happened last night?

"We're not looking for an interview—"

"Go away or I'll call the police!" Your dad yelled, properly angry now.

"You're a suspect in a homicide, so go ahead, call the police!" The voice yelled back, equally as enraged.

Your mouth dropped in shock and your father's jaw clenched. You stared so hard you were sure he felt it, glancing up quickly before he averted his eyes.

"Give me one good reason why I should talk to you!" He calls, but you could tell he was already convinced for the most part.

"I'm Billy Loomis's daughter."

The voice on the other side of the door rang clear, the words stinging like needles against your skin. You shivered, but this time, it wasn't from the cold air.

"Go to your room," your father said lowly, making his way to the front door.

You knew better than to argue, especially with the grave tone of the way your father spoke, like he was on the verge of either screaming or crying.

The walls were thin, anyway.

With the door ajar, you hovered, attentive to the footsteps and the sounds. The locks rattled and you could almost imagine your father undoing the many locks on your door before finally opening it.

The voices, now at a normal volume, were muffled and hard to hear. The conversation moved to the living room where your father's cold plate of food sat. You were hanging on to every word, focusing hard to catch as much of the conversation as you could.

"So help us! Help us figure out who's behind this!" Samantha's voice rang.

"Are you kidding me? I've been stabbed nine times, I've got permanent nerve damage and a fun little limp. I have a kid. You think I wanna go through that again? Put my family in danger?"

"You just said it always goes back to the past, right? So, if I'm in danger, that means you're both in danger. Come on, let's do this, together."

"Your time's up." And the last sound you heard was the door slamming and the locks rattling once more.

With a creak of your door, you made your way into the hallway, watching as your dad leaned against the front door.

"Dad?"

"Yes?" He leaned up and off the door, trying to relax his face and his breathing.

"You should help them."

"I thought I told you to go to your room."

You knocked on the nearest wall. "The walls are thin."

Your dad sighed, resting his hands on his hips.

"I'm not getting involved. I don't know anything."

"You know everything! You know what it's like, they don't. You need to help them!" You stepped closer, a pleading look on your face. There was no way you could leave these people to fend for themselves.

"The only thing I need to do is protect you."

Fear made his voice tremble as he looked down at you, his face looking older than ever as he pulled you so close you could smell the alcohol on him.

"We're getting you on the next flight to New York. I'm going to call your mother and you're going to stay with her—"

"What? Dad, I'm not leaving—" You pulled yourself out of the hug, looking at your father in disbelief.

"It's not your decision. My roof, my rules."

You scoffed. "What if Mom comes here? Who do I stay with then?"

"She won't. I'll tell her not to."

You scoffed. "And you think she's going to listen to you?"

Your dad's jaw clenched.

"Dad..." you stepped closer again, carefully. "You can't just run away. Not when there's people who need your help."

You wrapped your arms around him this time, hiding your face into his arm.

"I don't want anyone to die," you confessed softly, trying to hide the tears forming in your eyes.

"It's not our problem," your father tried to reassure, his hand coming up to gently pat your head.

"We can't just... sit here and do nothing!" Your voice shook with emotion, moving your head back so your father could see it. "Please?"

Your dad sighed. He was tired. You knew that. But you had to do something.

"You know, you're just like your mother." He shook his head softly.

For the first time that day, your father smiled at you and you returned it.

「 ... 」

You followed your father to the Meeks-Martin house, walking past Sam and her boyfriend, Richie, with nothing but a glance.

Your dad held on to your shoulder and led you inside as he greeted Mindy Meeks-Martin. Discomfort ran through you as you inspected the home and the pictures of the deceased decorating the walls. Something wasn't right.

The two of you moved into the living room where the group of teens were already sitting, waiting. Clearly, they weren't expecting you.

It was a coincidence you were born the same year as most of the friend group — an awful one.

Awkward glanced followed. They all knew who you were, especially with your father beside you. You knew who they were, faintly. You saw them all that day after school.

The only person you really knew was Wes Hicks. Your father always encouraged you to be his friend. You were, for years — until you grew up and the don't trust anyone rule began eating at you like a disease.

"Hey, Wes." You nodded your head in his direction as you took a seat as far away from them as possible. He was so different now than from you last knew him. Bleached hair, tall. But then again, the last time the two of you hung out was elementary school.

A part of you missed him. A part wanted to recreate the memories you had shared when you were seven, when you lived in blissful ignorance and still had the ability to make friends.

But too many years had gone by for that now.

"I asked Mindy to call everybody here because there's something I have to tell you," Sam began, not quite nervous but not quite eager. You couldn't blame here. You wouldn't exactly be showing off your parentage if you were her.

「 ... 」

"So, let me get this straight, you're saying that you're the daughter of Billy Loomis and, what, that one of us is the killer?"

"The killer told me he knew my secret. He attacked Tara to lure me back here!" Sam defended.

"But then why immediately go and murder some douche nozzle that was stalking Liv?"

"Why does it have to be one of us? And what about Deputy here? Maybe he's the killer..." You shot Wes a glare. "No offense."

"None taken. But what's my motive?" Your dad questioned back and it occurred to you he'd probably had dozens of conversations like this before.

"You got stabbed a billion times, got dumped by your famous wife and crawled into a bottle. I think it's safe to say you're on the suspect list."

"Well maybe you're the killer. Because that cut deep." Wes sent a look of concern and you placed a hand on your dad's arm.

"You don't have to be such an ass about it, Wes," you glared, scooting closer to your dad for good measure. Yeah, things had changed.

"That douche nozzle is connected. I googled him, his mom is Leslie Macher, Stu Macher's sister." Amber said.

"Who's Stu Macher?" Liv asked.

"Oh, my god." Amber grumbled.

"He's Billy Loomis's accomplice, a real looney tune." Your dad said. You'd almost forgotten he knew him. Knew them both.

"Okay, okay, so the first three attacks are all on people related to the original killers." Sam began, interrupted by Mindy.

"Oh, my god, he's making a requel!"

"A what?" Sam asked.

"Or a lega-sequel, fans are torn on the terminology."

"God, please speak English." Chad.

"Okay, remember the Stab move that came out last year?"

"Oh yeah, the one the Knives Out guy directed, right? You know, I actually really liked that one." Liv quipped with a small smile.

"Of course you did, you have terrible taste."

Liv's smile fell. "I hate you."

"The point is, the hardcore Stab fans hated it. You go on 4chan and Dreddit, all they're talking about is how Stab 8 pissed on their childhood. How they crammed in social commentary just to make it elevated, how the main character is a Mary Sue!"

"What's a Mary Sue?" Richie asked.

"You really don't want to know." Wes assured.

"What's wrong with elevated horror? I mean, Joran Peele fucking rules."

"Uh, obviously, but that's not Stab! Real Stab movies are meta slasher whodunits, full stop."

"Come on, it's just a movie."

"No, it's not. To some people, the original is their favorite thing in the world. The movie that made them love horror! That mom or dad showed them when they were ten that bonded them together!

"And God help anyone who slightly fucks with that special memory. Who makes a movie they think disrespects it. It sounds like our killer is writing his own version of Stab 8 but doing it as a requel." Mindy finished.

You could tell the others were getting tired of the monologue, rolling their eyes or slouching in their seats. But Mindy's enthusiasm guided you through her words, which you hung on to thoughtfully.

And to your father, they were nostalgic.

"Which is?"

"See, you can't just reboot a franchise from scratch anymore. The fans won't stand for it. Black Christmas, Child's Play, Flatliners. That shit doesn't work! But you can't just do a straight sequel, either. You gotta build something new, but not too new or the internet goes buck fucking nuts.

"It's got to be part of an ongoing storyline even if the story shouldn't have been ongoing in the first place. New main characters, yes, but supported by an related to legacy characters."

Mindy pointed to your dad. Oh, god.

"Not quite a reboot, not quite a sequel. Like the new Halloween, Saw, Terminator, Jurassic Park, Ghostbusters, fuck, even Star Wars! It always, always," she picked up a copy of Stab — the original, "goes back to the original!"

The room was quiet as Mindy's words settled in like a death sentence.

"Are you telling me that I'm caught in the middle of fan fucking fiction?!"

"Not just in the middle, Sam. You're the star."

"So," Liv began. "Not to put too fine a point on it, but according to requel rules..."

"Who's next?"

"Going by the pattern, whoever it is has to be connected to someone that came before." Mindy looked around before her gaze fell on you and your dad.

Your skin prickled at the attention that followed as everyone's eyes began to fall on you.

"I'm starting to regret coming here," your dad sighed.

"Jesus, my mom's a character in one of them —"

"No one cares about the inferior sequels, Wes, you're safe." Mindy turned to her twin. "With Randy as our uncle, though, you and I are probably screwed."

"Wait, what?"

"Or you're the killer and this whole, what, elaborate monologue is just to cover your tracks."

"I think the quiet ones are the killer," Amber spoke up, pointing an accusing finger at you. "I saw you watching us the day after Tara got attacked."

Your eyebrows furrowed and you scoffed. But before you could get a defense out, Mindy laughed.

"I think it's pretty clear who the killer is at this point."

"Who?" Sam asked.

"You." Mindy said, as if it were obvious. "It makes perfect requel sense."

A chorus of agreements followed and you couldn't help but feel sorry for Sam, watching as the anger and disbelief showed up on her face.

"Fuck this." Sam stood and left in rage.

"You know," your dad started, breaking the uncomfortable silence that followed. "Randy may have accused us all of being the killer too, but he was a lot nicer about it."

The two of you stood to depart, too. You spared Wes one final glance. Your eyes met for a second before he looked away, staring at the floor instead.

You and your father climbed into the car quietly. Your throat was dry and you had to lick your lips before you could even try to get any words out.

"You heard Mindy. It all goes back to the original. I'm a target, Dad. We both are."

"That's exactly what I was afraid of," your dad sighed, turning on the engine.

"I'm not leaving. We have to stick together. Power in numbers, right?"

Your dad turned and gave you a sad smile. He'd lost so much. The last thing he was going to do was lose you, too.

"You've gotta stay close, alright? Remember, trust—"

"No one," the two of you finished together. The piece of advice that had taken over your life for years. The one that had ruined all your friendships. The one that had booted Wes out of your life. You felt that resentment again, building up and threatening to spill out of your mouth.

"Yeah," you turned back around to face the road. "I know."

「 ... 」

Your music stopped just as the phone rang, chiming a few times before your father finally picked up.

You knew something was wrong the second he spoke into the phone, pulling your earbuds out and racing into the entrance of your home.

"It's... Judy and Wes," your father gasped out. The two of you exchanged a look of understanding.

No words were needed as you two piled into the car, hearts racing with pure fear.

「 ... 」

You arrived at the scene of the double-murders, bile rising in your throat. You felt like something was pulling you along, like you were no longer in control of your own body.

You had just seen Wes. Now you watched as his body rolled onto an ambulance. There was a blanket over him but you knew it was him. The ambulance's lights turned off. Dead on arrival.

You bit your lip to try and ground yourself, feeling the warmth of blood trickle on your tongue. You stopped once you tasted it, turning away from the scene with blurry vision. You turned to your father, who was speaking. You blinked through deep breaths as you tried to focus on what he was saying.

Something caught your father's eye, mid-conversation. You glanced in the direction of what he was looking at. It was your mother. You smile, watching as they met in the middle. Their faces softened as they came closer and your heart filled with a feeling you'd missed. A feeling of completion.

Your smile dropped as you followed your father's gaze behind Gale, looking at her camera crew. She hadn't come for the two of you.

Their faces changed again and the feeling faded, transforming into one of familiar pain as your parents engaged in a heated conversation reminiscent of your childhood. One of them delivered the final blow and they went quiet.

You took your opportunity.

"Mom?" You stepped forward. She hadn't noticed you yet.

"Hey, what are you doing here?" In her defense, there was genuine concern as she took you in and pulled you in for a hug. She smelled of freshly pressed laundry and a strong perfume. An expensive one. "You've gotten so much taller."

You couldn't help but smile at the affection. At the attention. "I missed you."

"I missed you, too. But you didn't answer my question." The softness faded a little from your mother's voice, her hands falling on your shoulders.

You sighed. "I'm a target, mom. We all are."

Your mother sighed, nodding knowingly. There was a faraway look in her eyes, like when you would catch her daydreaming about her life in New York.

She was tired, too. She just had a different way of dealing with it.

A member of her team called her name. She turned, giving you a small smile. "Duty calls."

It always seemed to.

Your father walked up to an officer as he arrived onto the scene, asking about something. More details, clues, you didn't know. You didn't want to think about the murders anymore. You wanted all this to go away.

"Who's at the hospital?" Sam's voice broke through your wall of thoughts. "Who's watching my sister?"

"I just heard about the sheriff..." The officer your dad was speaking to sputtered out in a pathetic defense.

Sam scoffed, running off. Right into danger. There was no way she was the killer if she loved her sister that much.

"They needed me here!" The officer called out defensively.

"Where are you going?" Your father yelled out after Sam.

"My sister's in trouble!"

He glanced at your mother, who was reporting live. He looked at you, worried about the state you were in. You avoided your eyes and started chasing after Sam. With no time to argue and no choice, your dad followed.

Sam's face betrayed her confusion at your willingness to help. But time was ticking and the killer would clearly not waste an opportunity to kill.

"What are you waiting for? Drive! Come on, let's go!"

Sam peeled out as squeezed your eyes shut, gripping onto your seat in an attempt to brace yourself.

You weren't ready for this. Not by a long shot.

But it was too late to turn back now.

[astonmartinii]

but daddy i love him [guilty as sin part two] | charles leclerc social media au

pairing: charles leclerc x fem sainz!reader

when an unstoppable force (the sainz men when they feel aggrieved) meets an immovable object (charles and y/n)

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTERLIST | TIP JAR

carlossainz55

liked by landonorris, marcmarquez93 and 783,409 others

carlossainz55: never forget where you came from

view all comments

user100: insert cricket noises here

user101: who on your PR team said this was a good idea?

user102: they need to be fired, sorry not sorry

landonorris: i love your dad (tell him to stop beating me at golf)

carlossainz55: if he never lets me win he's definitely never letting you win

landonorris: so unfair i thought i was the third sainz sibling :(

carlossainz55: i'm an only child

landonorris: oh-

user103: i need this man to choke i'm being so serious rn

user104: that's so unbelievably fucked

user105: the fact his dad is probably co-signing this shit is insane that's YOUR DAUGHTER

user106: also someone give lando a lil slap around he's on the wrong side of history on this one

yourusername: scandal does funny things to pride

carlossainz55: if the scandal is betraying your family that's all you

yourusername: if we're talking about betrayal then that's your specialist subject mr. i've cheated on every girl i've ever been with - and while we're on the topic of betrayal, yes i was the one who told them

carlossainz55: i've never cheated why are you stooping to lies?

yourusername: you did it right in front of my face when i was a part of this family

carlossainz55: so you've always been comfortable going behind my back

yourusername: that's the thing, when you're treated like you don't exist by your family you learn that blood is not thicker than water

carlossainz55: i can't wait for charles to cheat on you

yourusername: btw i already called marca, they know any of those allegations from you or dad are false - good luck!

user10: obvs i know they should be doing this in private but MORE DRAMA FOR ME BABY LETS KEEP THIS GOING

user107: thank you for the validation y/n i KNEW THE SHIT STIRRING COMING FROM THAT PAPER WAS THE SAINZ CAMP

user108: and they've got the nerve to be talking about stooping - the call is coming from inside the house

maxverstappen1: ugly twins

carlossainz55: really?

maxverstappen1: i said what i said and i mean what i said

carlossainz55: i would say she's not going to fuck you bro but you really never know with her

maxverstappen1: she would never, homewrecking is a trait only the male sainzs seem to have

user109: OOP

user110: max is a real lestappen queen fighting the battles he knows charles can't

yourusername

liked by pierregasly, maxverstappen1 and 893,405 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: if you know within one glimpse, its legendary

view all comments

user114: i love how she goes from fighting her brother in one comment section to just showing off her hot bf

user115: tbf charles does have a face you'd go to war for so i get her

user116: i'd abandon my family for that face

yourusername: finally someone who fucking gets it

charles_leclerc: you made me believe in love at first sight

yourusername: awwwwww you're such a sweet talker the REAL smooth operator

pierregasly: i can verify it was love at first sight cause the man did not SHUT THE FUCK UP about you well... ever

charles_leclerc: is it a crime to love my girlfriend?

pierregasly: apparently!

yourusername: he's too cute to go to jail :(

charles_leclerc: they'd ruin me

yourusername: that's my job 🤨

pierregasly: you keep that to yourselves

user117: does this girl need to shade carlos on every single fucking post... yeah we get it he's the only reason you're relevant but god you reek of desperation

oscarpiastri: is this carlos' burner account?

user118: are the grid just sat around waiting to be tagged in to the fight against carlos?

oscarpiastri: what's he going to do? crash into me? he does that every weekend anyway

user119: uh oh carlos oscar is finally fighting back off track what are you going to do

user120: don't worry i'm sure he'll post a selfie with lando and try the whole carlando shtick to get some more PR points

maxverstappen1: oh this was not the shit slinging post i was hoping for

yourusername: something tells me you're having way too much fun with this

maxverstappen1: yeah you might have been abandoned by your family but have YOU considered that this is letting me express all my mean girl energy off track so i am level-headed on track

maxverstappen1: actually i don't even think i'm being mean tbf

yourusername: i'm glad my suffering could be your therapy

carlossainz55: BOO HOO you're not suffering ... it's something called the consequences of your actions (read: actions being a snakey slut)

yourusername: bro over here acting like i committed fratricide

maxverstappen1: TAP ME IN

maxverstappen1: not this man talking about the consequences of actions. kids, here's a little life lesson: if you spend all your time at your current job talking about how you have a much better job waiting for you and how you're too big for this job and plant stories about your co-workers, you can't be surprised that that same job doesn't want to keep you

carlossainz55: i am better than charles

yourusername: lying is a sin

maxverstappen1: and you're going straight to hell

user121: you guys might be mourning the loss of charlos (whatever the fuck that is) but i'm celebrating the absolute shit ton of LESTAPPEN we're getting

user122: max was like oh my bff is dating charles here's my excuse to be nice about him again

user123: if we're being real here the biggest crime of this whole situation is the fact that charles can't really dig the knife in

user124: @ silvia i have maybe £4.50 and a greggs sausage roll to my name but PLEASE LET CHARLES TAP IN

f1

liked by charles_leclerc, oscarpiastri and 1,298,006 others

tagged: oscarpiastri & carlossainz55

f1: f1... the sport that gives you just as much drama off track as we do on track!

view all comments

user125: at this point even before the whole carlos ousting his sister i think oscar was about 👌🏻 this close to rocking carlos nascar style we should let him do it

user126: i will personally pay his legal fees tbh

oscarpiastri: i'm only 23 i don't need two F1-related legal cases to my name

yourusername: i've watched legally blonde about ten billion times let me represent you

oscarpiastri: yeah sounds legit

user127: THAT'S IT WE NEED PROXIMITY CHAT IN F1

user128: the way we know there was a shit talking session like no other after this race

maxverstappen1: i don't kiss and tell but well - yes!

user128: okay since this is clearly a safe space... who was there please spill mr. verstappen

maxverstappen1: ME! charles, pierre, oscar, checo, alex and george!

user128: why the fuck were the last two there?

georgerussell63: i was on official GDPA duty 🤓

alexalbon: that's a lie we're just very nosey

yourusername: they're the biggest PTA moms ever don't even lie

georgerussell63: yes i'll make allergy friendly cupcakes for the bake sale but i'll also spit in them and gossip about your cheating husband - sorry about it!

alexalbon: he's not

georgerussell63: i'm not

user129: carlos slagging off y/n but she's really brought the grid together

user130: george and alex being like we do not care about that but we do want the latest scoop

alexalbon: oh don't get it twisted we're firmly team y/n

user131: we even got the f1 admin in on the drama

carlossainz55: she's probably fucking them as well

yourusername: BORING get a new bit babe

carlossainz55: if i see whore i'm going to say whore

yourusername: aren't you still in that damn stewards office?

carlossainz55: tell your little lap dog to keep his front wing away from my car and maybe i wouldn't

oscarpiastri: suck my dick

yourusername: now that's true poetry

user132: oH!

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen1, alexalbon and 763,409 others

tagged: charles_leclerc, logansargent & oscarpiastri

yourusername: florida !!!!!!!!!!! is one hell of a drug. no seriously what is in the water here i keep picking up these little guys everywhere i go

view all comments

user135: she's really like i AM spanish and i will colonise this grid

user136: stealing all the lil cuties for her cause

oscarpiastri: proud to be a part of this weird little circus thing we've got going on

yourusername: oh dibs on ring master

logansargent: i feel like my name is written all over tight rope walking

yourusername: okay yes skinny legend

maxverstappen1: obvs we're a cruelty free circus so no lions but if there were lions, that's me babe

maxverstappen1: SOME people could learn... cough, cough trophy hunters

charles_leclerc: idk i'll just take the one where i can sit there and be pretty

yourusername: and you would be the best at it

oscarpiastri: which one does the least? i'll take that one

user137: bro can we slow the fuck down i was just getting over osc telling carlos to suck his dick now we're talking CIRCUS?

user138: for real couldn't it have at least been cabaret i wanna see ALL of that

charles_leclerc: 🤨

carlossainz55: i think a circus is a perfect way to describe your desperate attempt to stay relevant

yourusername: don't you have a job to go to? oh wait...

carlossainz55: as if i'm threatened by a group with the likes of logan sargent in it

logansargent: bit harsh, i'm a nice guy (unlike some)

yourusername: carlos here's a little bit of a wild thing i'm about to introduce to you.... people have friends?

yourusername: also you WISH you had a face card like logie

carlossainz55: i have friends?

yourusername: no you have PR strategies, there's a difference

carlossainz55: bro learnt the word PR and ran with it

yourusername: tell me one person who would let you crash on their couch?

yourusername: QUICKLY.

fernandoalo_oficial: and don't even think about mentioning me

user139: she hit him with the bianca del rio

user140: OOP and also nando just popping up out of nowhere to diss carlos and never say anything again

charles_leclerc: the drug in question being puppy fever

maxverstappen1: tell me you didn't get a dog

yourusername: boy do i have news for you

carlossainz55: are you trying to baby trap him

yourusername: first woman in history to birth a dog you heard it here first

charles_leclerc: you simply can't be babytrapped when you would literally jump off a bridge if asked to

user141: @myboyfriend TAKE NOTES HONEY ^^^

charles_leclerc

liked by maxverstappen1, landonorris and 1,745,093 others

tagged: yourusername & oscarpiastri

charles_leclerc: two kids in one month? someone stop us

view all comments

user142: y/n really lost an apartment and a brother and gained about 27 f1 drivers and a dog

user143: glow up of the century some might say

liked by charles_leclerc

yourusername: soz it's a coping mechanism

charles_leclerc: and that's okay <3

maxverstappen1: anything to help with that emotional CONSTIPATION

yourusername: have you tried to live with those narcissistic and emotionally unavailable men?

maxverstappen1: you're asking the wrong person that question honey

yourusername: girl are WE good?

maxverstappen1: no

yourusername: BUT THAT'S OKAY

charles_leclerc: not to rain on this parade but i think therapy would really be a positive move here

user144: i feel bad for charles cause i know these hoes are the type to just tell each other EXACTLYYYYY when they make poor decisions

maxverstappen1: true, no smart bitches would let their bff live with THAT man

yourusername: and let their bff constantly chat shit and ruin their image

maxverstappen1: can't ruin my image if i'm spitting FACTS

user145: max will nawt let this go

maxverstappen1: i'll forget you but i'll never forgive the smallest man who ever lived

yourusername: GIRL

maxverstappen1: whoops, one sec. spoiler alert: y/n unleased poetry. trigger warning: c*rlos s*inz

olliebearman: ollie bearman erasure

charles_leclerc: GASP OLLIE I AM SO SORRY

yourusername: no he actually is he's crying

charles_leclerc: it's the pregnancy hormones

olliebearman: it's okay i swear

charles_leclerc: I'M A TERRIBLE FATHER

carlossainz55: i could've told you that for free

olliebearman: why are you in our family buisness

user146: charles is channelling all of his carlos rage through ollie oh my

olliebearman: i am a happy conduit for my father who is in the ferrari PR jail

yourusername: can we send carlos here and throw away the key?

user147: charles is really out there like keep my girl's name out of your mouth cause even the bitch who stole your seat for a weekend is my SON

user148: y/n wasn't joking about with this grid domination

user149: but also i'm glad all of this fun stuff is happening amongst all of the shit that's been thrown at her from her family

oscarpiastri: a leclerc and proud (i race like my dad and throw shade like my mum)

yourusername: the best way to be

charles_leclerc: proud of you, you're such a good dog brother :)

oscarpiastri: i've just learnt to be patient after alpine and lando

yourusername: you still took your shoes being leo's personal bathroom really well

oscarpiastri: he's too cute to be mad at

yourusername

liked by maxverstappen, charles_leclerc and 824,109 others

tagged: charles_leclerc

yourusername: first mother's day with my boys

view all comments

user150: gonna enjoy this super wholesome post before... he... ruins it

user151: manifesting a y/n post without that bitter old hag in the comment section

charles_leclerc: the best mother for our fur baby and our miscellaneous other children

yourusername: only the best with you :(

charles_leclerc: ugh i love you so much

yourusername: i love you even more

user152: they're so fucking cute

user153: damn carlos i too would be angry if my baby sister and my teammate outshined my third PR relationship in six months

user154: the sainz family have generational levels of hating, but one does it for good (poetry) and one does it for bad (anything carlos ever says)

oscarpiastri: happiest mother's day to my grid mum! here's to reading them to filth xx

yourusername: OSC!! i always knew you were my favourite aussie

danielricciardo: did my enchante PR mean nothing?

yourusername: i mean i wear it all of the time... but it's osc ...

danielricciardo: true, i broke my hand before i could even think of accidentally hurting him

user155: also babe is looking so unbothered, moisturised and free we need the skin care routine

oscarpiastri: the tears of carlos sainz

yourusername: and cleansing your life of toxic family members

user156: okay clearly oscar was done with the whole "i'm so chill" bit cause since his adoption by charles and y/n he's been non stop on carlos' neck

oscarpiastri: i'm a ride or die for my mum cry about it

maxverstappen1: as the kids would say ... mother is mothering? @olliebearman did i do it right?

charles_leclerc: stop trying to steal my kids

maxverstappen1: BRO I'M TRYING TO COMPLIMENT YOUR GIRLFRIEND

charles_leclerc: that's literally my job 🤨

yourusername: tbf i'll take as many compliments as i can

charles_leclerc: are mine not enough?

yourusername: when you've got a self esteem this low, you gotta take what you can get

charles_leclerc: oh :(

user157: max and y/n fighting over who trauma dumps more about their upbringing

carlossainz55: this bit is very tiring. you'll be a terrible mother and all these people you think are your friends will drop you as soon as they know who you really are.

yourusername: you done?

carlossainz55: as you loveeeee to point out, i don't have much to lose anymore so i really wouldn't test me

yourusername: trying to make me homeless and stealing all of my money wasn't enough?

carlossainz55: charles will know the truth soon enough and you won't have us to come crying to

yourusername: i'll take those chances thank you

user158: hold ON what do you mean stole all her money

yourusername: i was never allowed my own bank account so all my earnings have gone to them!

user159: okay that's it WE RIDE AT DAWN

fin.

note: oh girl life has been BUSY!!! i just got a new job and have been looking desperately for a flat to move out to. also i've had family visiting and going here, there and everywhere. but i hope you enjoy! this was a lil more light-hearted lol (until the end) so enjoy the addition of the leclerc family lore xx

ALSO i wanted to say a massive THANK YOU FOR 6,000 FOLLOWERS love you all <3

note: hiii extra note from me here. first, i will fix this tag list at some point idk why it's not working rn. secondly, i have been made aware by multiple people that there is a series just like this one down to characters and the name of the series on here and i can't lie i'm bummed about it. as i said on the first part (?) this is an idea i've had since the release of TTPD (and people will back me up on this) so it bums me out that there are blatant copies coming out! i'm all for inspiration but sometimes there's a difference between taking inspo and copying especially when my masterlist was posted ages ago and my first part was posted on the 9th of may.... anyways that's all i have to say! enjoy xx

taglist: in comments!

[luludeluluramblings]

Smalltown! Neglected! Meta! Reader x Yandere! Batfam

Part One

Part Two ☁️ Part Three ☁️ Part Four ☁️ Part Five ☁️ Part Six ☁️ Part Seven

A/N: I’ve been hyper fixated on Batfam and DC in general for the past two months, and this is what my brain has been cooking. This is based on an fem!OC I made, but I converted it to GN!Reader. Or attempted to. Might write an official one with the oc. I don’t know. I’m new at this stuff and doing this on mobile to boot.

Warning(s): Yandere themes, Obsessive behavior

Reader grows up happy, healthy, a safe away from Gotham

Momma and Daddy (step-father) adore their darling reader

Daddy is kind and understanding; gives good advice, encourages reader, comforts reader after nasty break ups

Momma is sassy and a bit possessive of her baby reader

Momma never tells reader anything about their biological father (He was a big city playboy that missed the court date for custody is all she said)

Reader has a much younger half-brother from Momma and Daddy, who reader also adores

Little Brother’s are annoying, but you have so many interest in common

Suddenly Momma and Daddy are dead; (tragic accident or murdered)

Reader’s Bio Father, Bruce Wayne is called and flies into town via Private Jet and whisk you off to Gotham

Bruce can’t get custody over half-brother due to Reader’s step-grandparents fighting him.

(They tried to keep Reader too, but blood is thicker than water in the eyes of the court. And, Bruce has enough money to make that water run dry)

Bruce isn’t exactly like Momma described, he’s distant and a bit cold with reader. (Like he doesn’t know what to do.)

Bruce gets upset when Reader talks about missing Momma and Daddy, especially when Reader talks about Daddy.

Bruce doesn’t introduce Reader to the family right away.

Reader doesn’t see anyone, but Bruce and Alfred for the first week at the manor.

Bruce avoids reader, but gets upset when Reader ignores him

Reader starts researching their new family. Everything they can find in the media, even the company.

(Family Buisness funds the Justice League? Gotham gains a new Vigilante almost every time Bruce gains a new kid? Jason Todd’s death and reappearance. Suspicious…)

Reader finally meets the others.

First up Cassandra.

Quite, but watches reader like she knows all of reader’s secrets. (That’s terrifying.)

Reader’s instincts scream that she’s dangerous (Reader trusts those instincts.)

Reader is still nice, they get along. Cass rather be alone, but it’s cool. They’re cool.

Second up is Duke.

Duke is great. Official bro. Passes all the vibe checks. (Most normal one in this house.)

Reader’s meta abilities go haywire around him, so Reader needs to be careful. (Reader’s not sharing that secret yet. Not till they share what Reader suspects is their secret)

Third, Dick and Barbara.

Dick is a whirlwind, coddling and pitying, treating reader like a sweet helpless child then leaving. (He’s a busy popular man)

Barbara is polite, but a stranger.

Reader tries to be friendly, but can’t get past the stranger stage.

Fourth Stephanie.

Stephanie politely ignores reader, but reader genuinely wants to hang out. (Similar interest, close in age. Please, can we be friends? ……….)

Reader says they’ll keep trying (It happens… eventually….)

Fifth, Tim.

Tim just brushes Reader off with a blank look and disappears.

Reader can never find Tim. (Always in the cave, at work, on patrol. He’s a busy busy busy sleepy man that avoids even the mention of Reader)

(Stephanie hangs out with Tim though, but they still ignore reader. It’s fine. Reader is fine. It doesn’t hurt.)

Sixth is Jason.

Jason is mean.

Calls reader spoiled, says reader a an ignorant privileged princess, Daddy’s pet, a brat, etc.

But, then leaves when reader starts to snap back.

(He looks like he’s struggling not to strangle reader almost every time reader sees him.)

Seventh is the youngest and reader’s half brother.

Reader is excited to meet him, reader already has a younger half-brother. Having two sounds even better!

Damian is cruel

It breaks reader’s heart.

Damian either ignores reader, or mocks reader viscously. He’ll push and shove and throw things at reader. (Won’t draw a weaponed though, he’s past that.)

He brushes off all of Reader’s attempts at sibling bonding.

All this goes on for a few months.

Reader tries so hard to get close to everyone, but they’re either avoid her, ignore her, are cruel, or they just don’t have the time.

Reader’s life in Gotham is… different.

Reader’s a commodity, and, surprisingly enough, most people like Reader

School Friendships form, which reader worries are because they’re a Wayne child

(Which is true, but not in the way Reader thinks; hint: it involves other types of night avians)

Teacher’s appreciate a humble Wayne (Damian goes to the same school, Reader is a relief to teach)

Reader is quite talented, not a prodigy, not extraordinary. Just extremely approachable.

But, like all good things there is a downside.

Reader wants to spend time with their new friends.

They’re invited to Galas, lunches, brunches, vacations, shopping, etc.

And Reader WANTS to go

But, Bruce won’t let them

It’s not safe

(Which Reader understands, that’s why they never really explore Gotham, but still brunch couldn’t hurt, right?)

So Reader has no one to lean on or connect with. It’s isolating.

Instead Reader spends hours talking on the phone to their old friends and family back in their small town.

There’s a silver lining though: Things are going to get better before they get worse

So much worse

[cartierre]

AGORA HILLS | ln4

SOCIAL MEDIA!AU lando norris x fem!russell!reader

side note: i'm depressed and the f1 season is starting soon again so here we go. side note pt2: this is kinda short and the ending feels rushed but oh well

♡ liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 14,293 others

tagged: landonorris

y/n_russell permanent shenanigans

view all 475 comments

user1 oh that's not-

user2 oh she didn't- yes she did

user3 y/n getting a lando norris tramp stamp was not on my 2023 bingo card ⤷ user4 i don't think it was ever on anyone's bingo card

landonorris mine ⤷ y/n_russell yours 🤞

user5 i can't decide if it's cringe or a major slay

georgerussell63 i don't know if i should strangle you or norris ⤷ y/n_russell maybe neither of us?

♡ liked by landonorris, oscarpiastri and 13,293 others

tagged: yourfriend, yourotherfriend, landonorris

y/n_russell pizza boy always knows how to capture my heart

view all 361 comments

user6 lando and y/n being in their hot couple era was not on my 2024 bingo card ⤷ user7 no couple does it like y/n and lando

user8 i'm a bit concerned about their recent behaviour, ngl

landonorris i'm a professional pizza boy off season ⤷ y/n_russell earning some extra money to spoil your girl? ⤷ user9 so you admit you use lando for his money? ⤷ y/n_russell sorry your partner apparently doesn't know how to treat you. i'd be bitter as well if i were you

user10 y/n being totally unhinged is my favourite type of media ⤷ user11 george being the emotionally older sibling and y/n being the unbothered younger sibling makes so much sense

♡ liked by landonorris, georgerussell63 and 16,938 others

tagged: landonorris, georgerussell63

y/n_russell to clear some things up: obviously george isn't always happy with how lando and i present our relationship (online or not) but that doesn't mean he hates lando?! i'm his little sister, it's natural he doesn't always enjoy what lando and i do. nonetheless, lando and george have been friends for ages! this was literally them on our shared holiday in '23! carmen and i were third-wheeling the whole time lol. george can sometimes be a little cold but that's just how he processes things, it doesn't mean he's not supportive of my relationship with lando. please respect that.

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♡ liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, danielricciardo and 16,292 others

y/n_russell accurate representation of how i felt after watching george and lando's "drama" on drive to survive. now i understand why y'all blew this whole situation up.

view all 364 comments

user12 now she knows how we all felt watching that episode

user13 me when i watch dts in general

user14 me when i hear the dutch national anthem yet again

user15 me when i think of charles not winning wdc because ferrari literally sucks

landonorris me when i realise y/n won't attend every race ⤷ y/n_russell um excuse me i'm a working gyal

user16 me when life

♡ liked by landonorris, georgerussell63, mclaren and 17,293 others

tagged: mclaren, mercedesamgf1

y/n_russell maybe i should become lando's and george's pr manager when it means getting flowers from their teams

view all 437 comments

user17 no cuz that is so cute that they sent her flowers cuz she solved the whole lando-george drama

user18 that's why they both are my favourite teams

mclaren the contract is ready to be signed! ⤷ mercedesamgf1 not if she choses us first! after all, blood is thicker than water

user19 not mclaren and mercedes fighting over y/n

user20 i wonder which flowers are from who

[nsharks]

bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part nineteen —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

The cool paste feels tingly on your skin as you rub it against your bruised stomach, wincing. Christ. Maybe Ghost was right to think he might break you. Beneath the mottled patchwork, another kind of pain stirs— your muscles are growing. Firm and tight. The only soft parts of you left are your breasts and your ass. Gently applying the paste to a nasty purple one on your left cheek, you curiously pinch the sore flesh between your fingers. Scratch that. Even your ass is firming up. 

Arnica has healing properties. Yesterday, you found a patch of it with Blue and created a salve with some water. You already applied some last night before bed. Whether or not it’s helping probably doesn't mean much when new ones are about to be added; still, the placebo effect brings some comfort.

You're still massaging your backside when the bathroom door groans beneath a heavy fist. 

"Hurry up. Grab your bow."

“Shit.” You startle, almost dropping the salve. "Uh, coming.”

Chucking on a clean shirt and your old pair of jeans, you pad out of the bathroom, ignoring the cry of your joints. Ghost is outside waiting for you. Wait— bow? Confusion delivers an uptick to your pulse; you never bring your bow to train.

“What’s going on?”

"The air," he replies in a flat tone.

The stale smell offers enough explanation. You cringe. "Should we split up?"

He shakes his head and nods towards the direction the gentle breeze is rolling in. "No need. It's coming from this way."

In the violet wash of morning, you trail beside him over tall grasses and scattered groundhog burrows as the air leads the way, luring you opposite the clearing where you train. There haven't been any Greys since the one you burned together. For the past few weeks, you'd almost forgotten about their existence— a pleasant naivety for once. 

Neither of you bothers with much small talk. He asks if you're sore, probably noticing how stiff you are, and you answer honestly. That's it.

You keep your attention strictly on the wood bow molded into your palm and the slight rustling of leaves all around you, scanning for signs of anything astray. You don't look at Ghost, even when you feel his eyes flicker to the side of your head. Staring at him for even a second longer than necessary rouses something in your gut that was once easy to label as fear; now you don't know what to call it.

He is wearing thicker clothes today, the intimidating vest stocked with ammo glued to his chest. You'd gotten used to his more casual wardrobe of gym shorts and hoodies. They make him look... softer, almost. A little less like a death omen. Though, you sincerely doubt there are any soft parts of Ghost left under all that gear, given the rigid planes you felt beneath your hands when you—

"There."

You snap your gaze in the direction Ghost is pointing at.

At first, you don't see anything.

Then, squinting, you make out a red color far too metallic to naturally sprout among the conifers. 

An arrow is urgently slotted on the bowstring as the two of you head towards it, your brows tightly knitted. You've been this way a few times and never saw a— is that a red car?— before. Closing in, your suspicions are confirmed when a stroke of sunlight bounces off the metal bumper. The patchy sedan is tucked within a bush, tail-end sticking out, with half-flat tires resting on corroded rims. Shadows of movement dance behind the tinted windows, too disjointed to be natural.

"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath, boots scuffing over a long-faded gravel pathway that is now shrouded in weeds. The car must've been following it before winding up in the bush— the occupants no longer human enough to drive.

"They... they must have just turned while they were driving," you think aloud. "When did this even get here?"

"Maybe during the night," Ghost mutters.

He paces forward and swings open the passenger door. A string of moans is released as a Grey lurches within the confinements of the seatbelt, but he quickly silences it with a bullet to the forehead, causing it to flop sideways out of the car. Maybe just a day ago, it was a young man. His hair is fully intact and he's wearing a blue shirt with the Chelsea Football Club logo on the back.

"I wonder why they were driving this way to begin with," you say quietly, stomach rolling.

In the driver's seat is the slumped-over corpse of an older man, having died from so many bite wounds before the infection could take hold. The early stages of decomposition smell almost worse than the infection and you have to breathe through your mouth as you head for the back door. 

"There's another here I think."

You're ready to shoot and put whoever it once was out of their misery when you pry open the door, but the sight of a small body wriggling around makes you freeze. Curled up against the faded leather is an infected boy, no older than eight or nine. His eyes are all white except for the outer rim where a few vessels are still filled with red blood. Your fingertips dig fiercely into the frame of the door as you stare down at him; his soft brown hair, his small hands, his Minecraft shirt. He whimpers and tries to claw at you, mouth hung open in mindless hunger.

The feeling that washes over you is hot and cold at the same time. It's not the first or last time you've seen an infected child, so you don't know why the sight traps you for a few heartbeats.

A voice emerges beside you. "It's not a kid anymore."

You almost forgot Ghost was there. Your teeth clench. "Yeah, I know."

You feel his eyes burning into you. Your fingers tighten and untighten around the arrow's stem as you aim. 

"Hone it, Twix— the anger."

The tension in your jaw releases at the same time as your arrow snaps forward, cutting through the boy's skull and driving his limp body down to the car floor.

“You good?”

You forcefully swallow and look away, giving Ghost a short nod. "Guess that's all of them."

He slowly nods in agreement, studying you, but all he says is, "For now."

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“Seen stranger things over the years,” he says. “It seems like they were headed somewhere, maybe needed a new place to settle, and one of them got bit. Infected the others.”

You nod, thinking it over. “What about the car?"

"No fuel left, so it's pretty useless." Rifle still in his grip, he moves around to the hood and props it open. "Might have some parts I can use, though."

While he scavenges for gears that aren't rusted beyond functionality, you take a look at their belongings. There is an empty bottle of whiskey in the cupholder. In the boy's lap is a stuffed tiger that you assume was once white, but now it's a worn of grey. You carefully shift his corpse and take it.

"I have a friend who might be able to care of this for you."

In the trunk, at least, you find some tripwire. 

Dragging the two adult bodies back to the trench for burning is your 'strength' training for the day. Since they haven't decomposed much yet, they're heavy; you go back and forth, taking one at a time. Ghost carries the small one over his shoulder. After the flames snuff out the smell of rot, he relieves you, claiming he has other shit to take care of—more traps to set with the newfound tripwire.

"Hey. Would you like this?" you ask Blue when she's up, handing her the tiger. 

"I'm kinda too old for dolls, Twix." She must see the expression on your face because she shakes her head and disappears into her room for a minute before coming out with a teddy bear. "My mom gave me this one when I was a baby and it just sits on my bed by itself, but now it can have a friend."

You smile and nod. "Yeah, okay."

The day is spent playing board games with her. When she notices how sore you are, she offers an exclusive massage from Grim, who hops over your back and legs as you relax face-down on the couch. However, even with the honorary treatment, the aching lingers. 

"Auntie, I'm over here!"

In a violet-tinted field, you search for the voice.

It's barren and hazy, with no hard edges or places for a little boy to hide; so why is it so hard to find him? You call his name. You wander around, aimless, until you catch a familiar whiff of baked cinnamon and fresh laundry. This way. He's this way. You start running fervently. When a small hand tugs at yours, you whip around and try to grab him, but the soft touch dissolves through your fingers like ash. 

When you wake up, there's a hand on your back and blood on your tongue, evidence that you'd bitten through it during your sleep. The taste is quickly replaced with bile as you launch up, grabbing the sleeve of someone's shirt.

"Oh no, you don't."

The hand moves to your hair, wrapping it around in a fistful before forcing your head to tilt down. A bucket is tucked beneath your chin. You vomit into it, the cool metal rim hissing against your fingertips. Again and again. When it's all out, your throat feels like sandpaper. 

"Done?"

The dark room surrounds you; the perfect place to hide what you know must be a ghastly look on your face. Awareness creeps in, and you're not thrilled by the fact that you've thrown up in front of him twice now. Without looking up at the white skull you know is there, you nod.

Wordlessly, he takes out a cigarette and lighter. You hear a deep inhale. See the dull glow of the flame. Then, he passes it to you and leaves.

"You look like shit today."

You can't even be offended, fully aware of the purple painted beneath your eyes. One look at you quirks his brow up in that annoying mannerism of his.

You offer a tight-lipped simper, mumbling. "At least I can always count on you for brutal honesty."

"Good trait to look for in an ally." He throws the gauze at you and you begin wrapping up. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with the fact you nearly ruined another shirt of mine last night."

You tie off the gauze and glance up. "Look, I'm s—" you stop yourself, "I mean, I'm not sorry, because you wanted my box open so now it's open. You already knew the potential consequences."

"Try opening it without emptying your stomach next time."

You flash him a look. "I think I miss when you pretended I didn't exist."

"And I miss getting a full night of sleep."

"Can we just get started? I'm ready."

Ghost keeps his eyes on you as he motions a fisted hand. "As you wish."

When the familiar dance begins, and adrenaline ripples up your spine, you realize that you missed this yesterday. The rest felt good, but this— the thrill of seeing Ghost start to get as worked up as you, the sweat stains on his shirt matching your own... it is something you itch for these days. 

You get a few hits in that have your ego swelling. But then— the rough night catches up with you after half an hour of wordless sparring. Your breathing grows labored, while his is barely winded.

"Tired yet?" he asks.

"No," you say, but he calls you out immediately.

"You're a terrible liar," he reminds you. A few more swings have your lungs burning as you dodge until one finally catches up with you, and whatever healing your homemade salve has done is erased by a fresh layer of pain. 

As you clutch your side, he changes the subject. "Are you going to tell me what it was about then?"

"What what was about?"

"Whatever was making you whimper in your sleep."

Your face twists. "I wasn't 'whimpering'."

"Fine, then. Crying," he corrects plainly.

You sigh through your nose, averting your gaze only for a moment, then focusing back on him before he can strike you again. His words hang in the air, ignored, as you jab an elbow toward his ribs. He grabs you by the knob of it and pulls you unnecessarily close to his chest. When you try to wriggle free by placing a hand on his chest, he fists your hair, which has slipped out of a bun into a haphazard ponytail, and tugs hard enough to force your eyes up to his.

His gaze is demanding but his voice is light— a mere breath over your forehead. "Tell me why someone who has seen plenty of infected kids by now seemed so bothered by the one she saw yesterday. He reminded you of someone, didn't he?"

The mention of it makes you snap. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to act like you know anything about me."

"I know enough. You are easy to read."

So that feeling you get when he looks at you isn't just in your head; he truly can see through. Your nails dig into your palm. "There's no need to read me. We're not friends. We're just... allies, or whatever."

"Or whatever," he repeats thoughtfully, tasting the words. "You talk like a teenager."

"Compared to you I might as well be," you retort.

"Jesus." He chuffs out an exhale, eyes flickering down for a moment before returning up to yours, narrowing. "Let's not change the subject here." 

"Fine. Take this stupid Halloween mask off," you lift the hand on his chest up to the hem of his balaclava, feeling how weighted the fabric is with sweat. "And I will tell you all about it."

His jaw flexes before he gently guides your hand away. "Tempting offer, but I'll pass."

You refuse to acknowledge the tinge of embarrassment at his dismissal and inch back as far as the hand on your hair will allow. The close proximity, or harsh sun, is making it hard to breathe. "Well, it's not fair for you to ask me shit about my life when you don't even let me see your face."

"I never claimed to be fair." 

"I promise I won't vomit no matter how ugly you are. I've seen worse things out here."

His hand tightens. "I think I miss when you were scared of me. Less mouthy back then."

"Well, I'm not anymore."

"No?" He flips you around so your back is against him, one hand settling on the toned curve of your hip. His voice lowers to your ear. "Maybe I need to fix that."

An unwelcomed shiver courses through you. He lets go. A wristbone nudges against your spine, shoving you forward. Irritation simmers in your veins when his remark finally registers, and you whirl around, readying your stance. 

"If you even think about threatening me after I explicitly asked you not to, then I would suggest sleeping with a knife tonight."

"Who's threatening who, Twix?" He gives a low chuckle. "Relax. I'm sure I could handle you in my sleep, anyway."

He's egging you on; you know it. And yet, you stubbornly take the bait. His knee— the right one. That's where you got him last time that made him falter. Maybe an old injury. But when you swing a boot at it, he expects your attempt, knocking you away by the ankle. 

"Ah. Eager to get me beneath you again?"

Pink sears your cheeks as you wipe a trickle of sweat from your forehead. "I'm eager to humble you for once."

"Might need to keep your dinner down to do that."

You grit your teeth. So maybe he did allow it last time. The realization darts your eyes to his wide stance, searching for an idea. Without second-guessing yourself, you kick at the other knee. He must find your second attempt amusing because he easily predicts it, but before he can catch your leg, you snap it back and drop yourself to the ground.

The brief distraction allows the second of time needed to fit yourself between his legs. You're slim enough to push through, kicking at the inside of both knees once you're on the other side. His legs buckle, and you reach up to pull his arm, finishing the job.

Once he's down, you scramble to get on top, not caring if your boot kicks his face in the process. You grab both of his wrists and bring them above his head, but it's impossible to wrap your fingers all the way around them. Instead, you lace them through his fingers, breathing hard in his face as your breasts meld against the solid heat of him.

"Did you allow that?" 

His voice is rougher than you've ever heard it. "No."

Your lips furl. "Good."

A dark gleam passes through his dilated pupils that makes your head fuzzy. You let go of his hands. Immediately, they gravitate to your hips again, thumbs fiercely pressing into the sliver of skin exposed from where your shirt rides up. You don't move even an inch, frozen in place as you stare down at where he grips you against him. That feeling in your gut deepens and spreads. It is hard to pinpoint—so insane and foreign yet familiar at the same time—but one thing is certain: it begins and ends where his rough skin touches yours.

Before you can figure anything else out, a scream shatters the air, and Ghost rips you off of him in one swift movement. 

[frantic-fiction]

Beg 18+

Pic Credit: astarionposting

Astarion x F!reader

Summary: Astarion asks for more blood, you make him work for it.

Warnings/Tags: Smut MDNI, fingering, begging, slight overstimulation, sub!Astarion, switch!Astarion, Druid!Reader

Word Count: 3.8K

Masterlist

"There you are, darling,"

Astarion hovers above you as you sit cross-legged in the grass by your tent, his shadow blanketing you, blocking the sun's warmth. You hum in acknowledgment, but your focus is solely on your book. A delicate finger dangles in front of the vampire, who audibly scoffs but otherwise stays silent and waits, patiently observing. 

You pick at the skin of your lips absentmindedly with your teeth as you flip the page. You can feel his eyes on you, taking every inch of your body in with his wandering gaze. Shifting in the grass, you continue to read, relishing the impatience dripping from Astarion, smirking when each flick of the page elicits a huff of annoyance from the vampire.

Once your chapter finishes, you mark your page and lean back on your hands to look up at the man with a quizzical arch to your brow. "How can I help you, Astarion?" 

His annoyance melts like ice in the sun as a sultry smile stretches his lips. "Can I not simply want to see your enchantingly beautiful face?"

You snort, "You have barely spoken to me since the tiefling's party. So I'd say you want something." Standing, you brush off the dirt on your pants and move to store your book away.

"I have to!" Astarion balks, pressing a hand to his chest in a dramatic display. "Besides, we have been incredibly busy running all over the gods damn wilderness since you and everyone else seem to want to play the hero."

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest, a playful retort poised on your tongue. "I'm terribly sorry that some of us have morals and a conscience," you tease, your gaze meeting him with a mixture of challenge and amusement.

"Oh, I have morals, my sweet," Astarion purrs, leaning into your space, his breath chilly against your skin. "however, mine sway towards the more sinful side."

You suppress the shudder that trembles through your body. Astarion always has a way of reducing you to a mumbling, blushing mess with only a few salacious words. It's like he holds the key to pulling you apart and leaving you consumed by him, and he knows it, too. But you're not giving in that easily. There's something he wants. You can see it in his eyes, and he's not going to get it without working for it.

Putting your hand up, you interrupt his following flirty remark. "Did you want something? Or are you just here to interrupt my free time?"

Astarion looks at you in shock, mouth open to speak, but no words seem to want to flow. His eyebrows furrowed, and a smirk stretched his lips. Leaning on one hip, Astarion flicks out his hand, idly looking at his nails. 

"Yes, actually, I have a list. Coin, sex, blood, revenge," Astarion counts on his fingers, his tone dripping with amusement. "Certainly not in that order, and I could go on, but what I came here for specifically is something that might be better…" Astarion looks around the camp, taking mind of everyone. "Discussed in private."

Having a hunch on where this would lead, you stifle a laugh, a plan forming in your head. "Then lead the way." You motion for him to walk, smiling brightly at the vampire. 

Astarion nods smugly, obviously feeling like his plan was going just as he attended. He escorts the two of you past the others' tents and deep into the woods. Your hunch seems more viable as the brush becomes thicker and the symphony of nature's melody replaces the still air. 

After a few minutes of walking in relative silence, the two of you break into a small clearing. Its grass has spatters of bright patches of wildflowers, and the colors of oranges, pinks, and blues contrast against the expanse of green. There's a small pond on the far side, and cattails and pond reeds sway in the winds. A deer is grazing the water, but sensing Astarion as a predator; it quickly retreats to the woods.

Paying more attention to the scenery, you had yet to notice Astarion stop mid-step and swing on his heel. You stumble slightly into his chest. "I believe this spot will do nicely," he declares smugly as you step back.

Taking a step back, you quickly recover, "And why are we here exactly, Astarion? I was quite enjoying my book."

For a moment, uncertainty flickers across Astarion's features before swiftly being concealed behind a facade of confidence and a devilish smile. Turning away from you, he strides further into the small alcove.

"Are you so eager to escape my company, my dear?" he counters playfully, eyes scanning the clearing. "I thought you would like this little spot. I had no idea how beautiful the woods could be." 

"You're stalling," you accuse.

"Am not!" Astarion's voice echoes against the canopy.

Folding your arms over your chest, you give Astarion a pointed look.

The vampire sighs deeply, shoulders slumping. "Gods, this is embarrassing," Astarion mumbles under his breath so low you barely catch it. He combs a hand through his tousled curls, not bothering to turn back to face you. "Fine, yes, you see… I'm hungry, darling. Starving, actually."

Of course, the prick ignores you for almost a week to ask you for a bite. After what he did, he thinks he can call on you like his personal snack pack. Oh no, he's going to have to do better than that.

"Then hunt." You smirk, "Or did you need me to ensnare something for you?" 

"Excuse me! I am perfectly capable of hunting!" Astarion snaps his head back and storms toward you. "It's these bloody woods; there's barely any fauna in the cursed thing."

His outburst has the surrounding animals scurrying, and before you can open your mouth to utter a mocking retort, Astarion grabs you by the waist and pulls you flush against his body. You yelped at the sudden force of his moments, your hand catching yourself on his chest. 

"Don't make me say it," Astarion breathes against your ear, his hands trailing teasing paths down your sides. 

"Astarion," you chuckle, feigning ignorance. "I don't understand what you're implying. If you want something, you'll need to say it."

Astarion nuzzles against your neck with a groan of frustration, his lips brushing against your skin in a maddeningly gentle caress. "Darling, may I have a taste?" He murmurs, the scrape of his fangs against your flesh nearly causing you to relent. "I'm famished, and your blood… Gods, it's intoxicating. I promise to make it just as pleasurable for you."

How easy it would be to say yes. Let him take what he wants and wait for the next time he wants something from you. But you weren't his little chew toy, just waiting for whenever he deems you worthy enough for attention. No, he needs to learn. 

"Beg." You demand, twirling out of his grasp and pushing him away gently.

"What?" Astarion pauses, disbelief written across his face as if he misheard you. 

"Beg." You repeat, your words slipping from your lips mockingly slowly.

"Are you serious?"

You meet his gaze with unwavering resolve, waiting for him to comply. As realization dawns, Astarion's expression shifts to amusement.

"Joking doesn't suit you, dear," he scoffs, his laughter echoing through the clearing. 

Silent and persistent, you hold his gaze, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. His eyes drift to the faint scar beneath your chin, a silent reminder. Wetting his lips, Astarion clears his throat before looking at you, clearly trying to grapple for the upper hand.

"Must we really play this song and dance?" He asks.

"If you want my blood, this is how you'll get it."

You hold firm, with your arms crossed over your chest. Astarion stares at you as if seeing you for the first time, and a mix of emotions storms behind his eyes. His body seems to deflate, coming to terms with the fact that you won't back down. Licking his lips, Astarion swallows hard and opens his mouth to speak.

"Darling," he murmurs through gritted teeth, his posture betraying his inner turmoil. "Allow me a taste of your exquisite blood. I'm starving and beg for your mercy."

"On your knees," you command softly, relishing the power that surges between you. "And I want a please this time."

Astarion looks at you with wide eyes. "Must I degrade myself further?" The anticipation in his voice betrays his reluctance to give in to you. "You've already gotten what you've wanted."

Biting your lip, you step closer and delicately cup his jaw, your touch gentle but commanding, and bring Astarion's lips tantalizingly close to yours. "I'll let you have your fill of my blood and more if you want. But only if you're a good boy and listen." Astarion breath leaves his lungs in a shuddering gasp, all fight seeping from his body.

"You are a cruel woman." 

With a resigned sigh, Astarion sinks to his knees. His silver curls reflect the golden light filtering through the forest canopy. His back is pin straight, and his neck is arched up to look at you with his deep crimson eyes. You can't help but focus on the bob of his Adam's apple as he swallows again.

"I beg, please allow me the privilege to taste your tantalizing blood," he starts, but you zone out the rest of his words, focusing more on Astarion himself.

You focused on how his shirt hugs his chest, the cotton straining in some places while loose in others. You noticed how blue his veins are, just under his pale skin. You see how his pants seemed tight in the front, something stiff straining against the thick fabric. 

Wait. Oh. Now that is interesting. 

You pounce before you can think things through, mind moving more on instinct than anything else. Astarion's plea for you is replaced with a yelp as you push him on his back and straddle his lap.

"Wh-what are you?" he stutters before letting out a pathetic moan he will most certainly deny later. 

You capture his mouth in a heated kiss. Your tongue runs over the seam of his lips, and when Astarion allows you access, you lick into his mouth. Your tongues twirl in a practiced dance as you deepen the kiss. Astarion groans into your mouth. A hand moves up to cup your head, fingers combing through your hair. 

"Astarion," you purr breathlessly, rolling your front against the vampire's growing bulge. You press your body closer against his, practically willing yourself to melt into him. "Did begging for me get you all excited?"

"Excuse you? No! Don't be ridiculous," he tries to deny but fails when another moan rakes through his chest with another turn of your hips. 

"Look at you, all hard and needy." You lick up the column of his throat, stopping to playfully bite at his ear before whispering. "Do you like being my good boy, Astarion?"

"Shit! You're being ridiculous," Astarion pants, his hand tightening on your hips to cease your ministrations. "You're rubbing against me like a desperate virgin. Any man would get aroused."

Humming calmly, you sit back on your haunches and remove your shirt, tossing the garment into the bushes. Astarion's eyes immediately wander your exposed skin, drinking in the sight of your body. You take your bra off and trail your fingers over your nipples. Astarion lets out a pitiful groan.

"That's disappointing," you pout out your lip, trying to conceal a smile. "I was going to reward you for being so good." 

"Darling, I think this is reward enough, so long as we end this with my teeth in your pretty neck."

"That's good to know," you chuckle, trailing a hand down the valley of your breast and over the planes of your stomach, stopping just shy of your waistband. "I'll enjoy this reward for both of us.

Astarion's brows scrunch slightly in confusion before zeroing in on your hand as you teasingly slip under the waistband of your pants and past your folds. Sighing softly, you begin to tease your clit with the pad of your finger, staring down at Astarion, who looks as if he might just have an aneurysm.

He cools his features with a smug smirk, idly trailing his hand up your side. "A show and then dinner? My dear, you're not as good at this teasing as you think, but I admire your effort."

One of Astarion's icy hands works up to your side, leaving goosebumps in its wake. The other grips your hip and begins to rock you against his stiff erection. You involuntarily gasp at the friction, allowing the vampire a moment of control.

Astarion ruts against you, letting out a grunt when you grind down with equal enthusiasm. Then suddenly, Astarion's hands are ripped from your body and pinned to the ground as you rise further, removing any contact between the two of you.

"What?" Astarion exclaims before looking to the side. Little vines sprout from the ground, binding his hands to the hard earth. "Gods, you wretched thing." 

Clicking your tongue, you grin wickedly down at the trapped man. "Only good boys get to touch."

"Darling, must we continue this?" Astarion groans in frustration, tugging at your vines, annoyed when they don't give. "We both want this. You're the one making things difficult."

"Maybe, but only because I love hearing you beg for me. Now, unless you're going to give me what I want." You resume your ministrations, moaning as you dip a finger into your neglected hole. "Keep quiet,"

"At least remove your trousers!"

"Don't make me gag that pretty mouth of yours, Astarion." 

Astarion fumes from underneath you, but you can see the cracks forming, the dilated pupils, the rapidly falling chest as he pants for breath he doesn't need, and the way he tugs against his bindings even though he knows nothing will give. You know he'll break. He already did once he had a bit more incentive.

Adding another finger, you start to pump in and out of your dripping cunt; an audible squelching noise can be heard with each dip of your hand. You moan, dropping your head back. Circling your puffy clit with your thumb, you rock against your hand, your other one snaking up your body to tease your breast.

"Astarion," you breathe out, smirking when you hear the man's frustrated groan. "Gods, I'm so wet, making a mess, squeezing my fingers so tight."

"You are killing me all over again, sweetheart," Astarion cries; his hips are desperately trying to move against you, but another vine wraps around his stomach, holding him down.

"Just say the word's Star," you say, pinching your nipple and rolling it between your fingers. A whine rips from your throat when you curl your fingers up and hit that spongy spot, which has a familiar burning sensation that starts coiling in your gut. "Fuck, say the words, and it could be you making me feel this good. Won't you be my good boy?" 

"Gods," He bites back another moan, slamming his head in the dirt. 

"I'm so close," you whimper, moving your thumb faster against your clit. "Just imagine it could have been your cock I'm clenching around, not my fingers. Could have been you that's making a mess of me." Looking down, you see Astarion all flustered, mouth agape, and hair a mess of frizzy curls, his whole body practically buzzing with need. It was enough to send you over the edge cumming around your fingers with a choked sob. 

This finally broke the man. "Fine, okay! Please, please let me go!" Astarion pleads, voice ragged and needy. "Just let me touch you. I'll do anything you want, please. Gods, please, please, please!"

Suddenly, the vines vanish, and your lips are again on his. Astarion's pleas muffle against your mouth and quickly morph into a satisfied grunt when he bites his lip. Now that he's finally free, Astarion's quick to roll the two of you and pin you against the cold earth. Nestled between your thighs, Astarion starts mindlessly tearing at his clothes, his mouth trailing sloppy open-mouth kisses down your neck and to your chest. 

"You are an evil woman." Astarion murmurs against the skin between your breasts. Slipping one of your nipples into his mouth, he begins to suck, and you gasp, arching your back into him. 

"Astarion, fuck!" 

A hand curls into his hair, your nails raking against his scalp, causing him to hum against your chest, sending a jolt of pleasure up your spine. You feel his hands move to your pants, tugging them down your hips, dragging your drenched underwear with them. 

A cold finger trails through your warm cunt, and you shiver at the feeling. "I must admit, darling, I quite like it when you take charge, but," His voice rumbles against your skin, and you whine at the feeling of his fangs teasing your swollen nipple. "My patience has grown thin, so if it's okay with you, your good boy will take his reward now." His finger teases your entrance, barely dipping in.

You clench, choking on the gasp that bubbles up your throats. "Yes! Gods, please fuck me!" 

Astarion cups the back of your head and kisses you deeply. Feeling his hard cock swipe through your cunt, your gasp into his mouth, your hand coming up to hold his face. He presses into you, and you pull away from his lips, moaning at the stretch of his cock, filling you to the brim. Astarion peppers feather light kisses over your face and neck as he bottoms out and waits for you to nudge him to continue. 

Throwing one of your legs over his shoulder, Astarion pulls out almost entirely before impaling you again and sets a steady pace. A pace has your toes curling and you feeling breathless with each delicious drag of his cock against your walls. You don't think you'll get over the feeling of Astarion inside you, feeling the ridges rub against you in all the perfect ways as if he has the only manual to tear you apart with mind-numbing pleasure. 

"Ugh-Always so tight," he grunts into your neck, "So perfect, just for me."

"Astarion!" You dig your nails into his shoulders and buck against each of his thrusts. "Faster, please!"

Astarion picks up the pace; your collective sounds of pleasure mingle together in the air, and the sound of skin slapping against skin echoes around the clearing. Astarion's forehead drops against yours, and both of your noses brush against each other as he breathes in every whimper and moan of ecstasy you give him with each drag of his cock against your walls. Snaking a hand between your conjoined bodies, his nimble fingers swirl around your clit in time with each grind of his hips. 

Another moan rolls off your tongue, and soon, that warmth blossoms once again in the pit of your stomach. "D-don't stop," you plead, hands running up his chest to wrap around his shoulder. "M' close." 

Astarion nuzzles at your neck and inhales your scent, groaning at a particularly tight squeeze of your cunt. Even after all the begging and pleading you put him through, he still silently asks before he takes a bite. The thought warms your heart and is something you'll have to reflect on later. 

"Yes! Please, bite me!" You whimper, clutching the back of his neck and pressing him close. 

The sharp sting of ice pierces your neck, and you cry out against the pain. Astarion pays special attention to your clit, applying pressure and dragging his thumb around the swollen bud, his way of helping you through the initial sting. After a moment, the pain resides in mind-numbing pleasure, and soon, everything becomes too much. 

Astarion consumes you. His hand caressing your body, his mouth lavishing your neck, his cock hitting you perfectly in spots only he seems to know how to reach. It's all too much, and soon tears prick at your eyes, and the heat in your lower stomach bursts, draining lava into your veins. Your nails dig into the flesh of Astarion's shoulders as you scream out his name, body spasming around the pleasure that courses through your body. 

This seems to be enough to push Astarion over the edge with you. Still drinking mouthfuls of your blood, Astarion is rutting into you, grinding your pelvis against the solid earth. His moans hum against your skin, and his thrust becomes sloppy before a rush of heat gushes inside you as Astarion cums.

With a few more gulps of blood and a few more thrusts of his hips, you whimper with overstimulation. Astarion removes his mouth from your body, licking any stray droplets. He rolls onto his back, dragging you with him until your head is lying on his chest. You whine at the loss of fullness, cringing at the feeling of your combined release that begins to drip down your legs. 

"That was…" Astarion trails off, seeming to be at a loss for words. 

"Way better than the tiefling party." You mumble against his chest, smirking at the snort he makes.

"Yes, I would be inclined to agree."

"So you admit it," you tease, trailing your thumb over Astarion's nipple. "You liked begging for me."

"I wouldn't… mind if you took charge again," Astarion says, skirting around your claim.

"Whatever protects your ego." You tilt your head up. "Hey, Star?" 

Astarion hums in acknowledgment, but his eyes are closed, his body seeping into a comfortable stillness. You note something he didn't allow himself to do at the party. Reaching your hand up, you run your fingers along his jaw, coaxing his eyes open.

"Next time, don't ignore me for a week to ask for my blood. I don't want you hungry. I care about you." 

Astarion seems to freeze at your words as if he's never heard a caring word said to him. The thought alone makes you want to hunt this Cazador down and flay him for all of Baldur's gate to see. 

Astarion opens his mouth to speak, but no words escape. He clears his throat and tries again. "Yes, that will certainly make things easier from now on." 

The two of you lay there in silence, just enjoying the feeling of each other's skin against the other. Soon, when the sky turns to ombres of blues, pinks, and purples, you decide it's time to return to camp. Astarion is quiet for the journey back; an air of contemplation clings to his being. You don't push. Goodnights were said, and you parted ways, feeling like something had changed. Everything may have changed.

Heya, it's been crazy, but I finally got some time and energy to finish up this piece I've been working on for a while. I hope Astarion's not too out of character for as earlier of act one, I just liked the idea. I hope you all enjoyed, let me know what ya thought!

Taglist

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[nisuna]

I am currently losing my mind over some fanart of MEN. Big beefy, rough looking men with scars and stubbly faces BIG beefy Arms and huge caloused hands with thick fingers. Face scars, body scars, let me gobble you up. Be nice to me, be mean, pick me up, throw me around, whatever just manhandle me and fold me in half however you like, haha. Give me arms thicker than my head and pecks bigger than my tits. Rough looking face, mean stares, sharp eyes, fuck me like you hate me upps- So manly and strong, mean and indifferent to everyone but protecting me and treating me like a pricess? Let's gooo. So stoic and emotionless, but I'll make you feel things don't you worry. ....black cat boyfriend??....

First person that comes to mind is Choso, so here's some pent-up Choso thoughts:

TW: smut and fluff, size kink, oral (f. receiving), period sex and oral, manhandling, breeding kink

Choso x f!reader

<3masterlist<3

!!MDNI!!

Choso, who looks so intimidating at first, but let's you do his hair in cute styles when you're alone with him.

Choso who looks just as pretty with his hair down as with any other hairstyle. 

Choso who sometimes doesn't understand how strong he actually is when he picks you up with ease or bends you into any position he likes.

Choso who could crush you to death with those huge arms and big hands, but still tries to be gentle and loving.

His calloused fingers swiping over your skin feel like heaven, especially when they have your tits between them while he's pounding into you.

Choso developing an obvious size kink when he first saw you. Oh, and how it solidified when he first held your soft body against his toned and hard one. After comparing his hands to yours and seeing just how much bigger he was than you in general, he was hooked. His body was a stark contrast to yours, it was rough and firm. He had a few scars running over his skin, which you thought were so beautiful and hot. You couldn't stop your fingers from running along the lines at every chance you got. His sheer mass made your mouth water and knees weak.

He was indifferent about a lot of things, but definitely not you. Choso who's always laid back and nonchalant, but steps up if someone dares to even just look at you in an unpleasant way. And he will always be there to protect his precious girl from all harm this world might throw at her.

It took a lot of convincing to get him to be meaner and rougher, because he's afraid he might actually hurt you (jokes on him, you're into that). Soon getting the hang of it and losing all restraints after seeing how you turn to putty in his hands. Seeing you react and moan at his every move made him crave more. Seeing how much wetter you got whenever he was nasty with you made him go crazy. Adjusting to your every need and kink felt like second nature. Positions? Any and every. I'm telling ya he will try every single one out with you. Just say the word and he's yours. He loved seeing you on all fours with your plump ass hitting against his hips. He loved feeling your soft tummy jiggle against his touch whenever he fucked you while you were spooning. And he loved seeing your face contort in pleasure when he hit the right spot when your legs were slung over his broad shoulders. In short, he loved every detail, because it was you. He was so eager to please you.

Breeding you at every chance he got quickly became one of his favourite activities. Seeing his cum drip out of your every hole ignited something carnal in him. And the thought of seeing you plump up with his child almost made him lose his mind.

Choso, who's not afraid of blood, gobbling and filling you up real good even if you're on your period. Always looking forward to your period and getting lost in your scent and taste when he finally gets between your legs. Your plush thighs feel heavenly around his head as they twitch and squeeze him tighter whenever he makes you cum with just his mouth.

You were blown away when he first went down on you. His tongue and fingers were working you open just right, skillfully sucking and licking you through your highs.

"Fuck. How are you so good at this?", you huffed, hair sticking to your forehead. He was a man of few words so he just smiled and made you cum again and again.

Speaking of smile, you swore your heart started to melt when you first made him smile at you. His smiles were so pretty and reserved for your eyes only. And when you heard him laugh oh so genuinely, you knew you were in love.

He was sooo cute whenever he played along your shenanigans. Duality of a man, one moment he's bending you over, fucking you like he hates you and the next he's hugging and kissing you through giggles like he wouldn't hurt a fly.

------

Haaaaa, don't mind me. I'm just chilling in my horny puddle. 🫠 Late night Choso thoughts *sigh* I definitely want to write more for him, so if you have any suggestions, hit me up!!

[allisluv]

BLOOD RUNS THICKER THAN WATER— a odesta fanfic

pairing: annie cresta x finnick o'dair

trigger warnings: everything that comes with the hunger games, the capitol not understanding mental illnesses, self-harm (will not be graphic at all), forced prostitution. please note i will update this list as we go on!!

a/n: it’s been a long time coming yall but i finally have motivation to start this fic! thank you for all your support and i hope you enjoy this as much as i enjoyed writing it! you can find this fic on wattpad (allisonslover1) or ao3 (allisonslover). reblogs and comments are highly appreciated <3

next chapter

chapter one — the reaping

Annie shifts onto her side as the morning sun begins to creep in through the gaps in her worn curtains. She kicks her linen duvet off her legs and stretches out in the sweat-soaked sheets in an attempt to cool down. You would think she was well-equipped to handle the heat in District Four after living there for the last eighteen years, but apparently not. 

It doesn't take long for Annie to hear a pair of footsteps padding down the hall. Her door creaks on its hinges and she looks over her shoulder, extending her arms as Marina crawls into bed beside her. 

Annie smooths her little sister's hair off her forehead and says, "Do you want to talk about it?" Marina shakes her head and nuzzles her face into her blue stuffed animal, a whale called Martha. "You shouldn't be nervous. You're too young to be reaped," Annie reminds her gently. 

"It doesn't stop me worrying about you, though," Marina admits quietly. 

Annie lets a sigh push past her lips. "It's my last year. The chances of me being reaped are zero to none. Besides, I can take care of myself. Don't get yourself worked up over nothing," she chastises. There's no venom behind her tone – there never is with Annie. "Come on, let's get dressed. We ought to be leaving as soon as possible." 

Annie unwinds Marina's arms from around her neck and sends her into her own room to pick out an outfit. She stands to her feet, sifting through the contents of her wardrobe, before settling on a floral pattern dress. It used to be her mother's, and it swims on her, but she likes it too much to care. 

She pulls her night-gown over her head and steps into the dress, yanking the straps over her shoulders and reaching back to tie the mint-green bow. Running a brush through her flaming red hair, she clips it back, securing it with a few bobby pins that dig into her scalp. 

Marina returns to her older sister's bedroom, dressed in a baby blue jumpsuit that is two sizes too small. Her light brown hair bounces down her back with every movement and Annie can't help but envy the fact that her sister inherited their mother's genetics.

Marina is small and light, with high cheekbones that even out her face and dazzling blue eyes that could easily stop traffic. Annie, on the other hand, follows their father– from her fiery red hair and sharp eyebrows to the fact that she can never mask a single thing she feels. Her brother, River, is somewhere in the middle. He's level-headed like their father but frets about everything like their mother. 

Annie hoists Marina up onto her hip and ignores the way her long hair tickles the back of her neck. She ventures down the stairs, almost slipping in her black socks, and pulls a pair of white sneakers over her feet when she reaches the bottom.

Marina wriggles in her sister's iron grip and Annie sets her down on the floor, letting her run into the kitchen where she can hear the familiar clink of River's keys hitting the marble countertop. Marina giggles in delight and Annie can only assume that he has picked her up and spun her in his arms. 

She hovers in the doorway, reluctant to ruin the moment, but her feet carry her inside on their own accord. Her sneakers squeak against the shiny tile floors and River looks up. 

His dark hair falls in his eyes and he keeps throwing his head back in an effort to make it fall back in place. "You ready to go?" he gives Marina a playful tap on the nose and she giggles.

Annie smiles and ties a white knitted cardigan around her waist. It hardly ever rains in District Four, but she likes to be prepared (another trait she inherited from her father). River places Marina on the floor and Annie grabs hold of her hand as they step outside. 

"When will I start training for the games, Annie?" Marina asks as they walk towards the town square. "I want to volunteer, just like Finnick did." The steadiness in her voice makes her older sister's heart work overtime. 

Annie tries to hold her tongue but the words slip out of her mouth before she has a chance to stop it. "I don't know why people volunteer to be sent to their deaths." Her face burns scarlet when she realises what she should not dare say aloud. 

River's mouth hangs open and he tosses a paranoid glance over his shoulder. "Don't talk nonsense, Annie. If Zale Morrissey hadn't beaten me to it, I would've been proud to represent District Four. It’s a privilege. Besides, all of our training has to go somewhere. Why not channel it into something more productive?"

"Like killing other children?" 

River is caught by surprise – it's not often that his sister stands up to him. He regains control of his facial expressions and smooths out invisible creases in his crisp ironed suit. "We're Careers, Ann. You'd do well to remember that from time to time. You don't want to volunteer, that's fine by me. I won’t hold it against you, I just think you're wasting your potential, that's all I’m saying."

Their conversation trails off as they near the Justice Building. Camera crews are positioned on the outskirts of the town square and anxious parents wait behind a red rope as their daughters and sons sign in. 

Annie gives Marina’s hand a reassuring squeeze and presses a chaste kiss to her brother’s cheek before weaving her way through the crowds to the roped off area in front of the stage. The other eighteen-year-old tributes file in and she soon finds herself standing shoulder-to-shoulder with the girls from District Four. 

It doesn’t take long for the mayor to take the podium. He reads a set of cue cards about the dark days and motions for Elodie, a Capitol issued escort, to take the stage. 

She’s relatively young to be an escort, Annie thinks. Her jet black hair is pulled back in a French twist and her full lips turn up into a smile. She spreads her arms out like an eagle and her plum-coloured jumper creases down the middle. “Welcome! Happy Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favour. As always, ladies first!” 

Elodie crosses over to the glass bowl and reaches inside. Her fingers fumble for a minute before she pulls out a crumpled slip of paper and trots back to the podium in her pink stilettos. Elodie smooths out the slip and loudly clears her throat into the microphone. “Annie Cresta!” 

Some girls surrounding Annie nudge her forwards with their sharp, bony elbows and she very nearly loses her footing. Her hands fly out and she grabs hold of someone’s shoulder, holding tightly as her heart starts to hammer in her chest. 

Her mother’s voice rings in her head, reminding her that first impressions will stick. It doesn’t sound like anyone is volunteering, so whether she likes it or not, she needs to pull herself together. She pushes her way through the crowd with her head held high, even though her legs feel like jello and her heart might give out on her. 

She’s moving on autopilot as she steps onto the stage. It feels surreal, in a way, like she’s been yanked out of her body and is being forced to watch her life on a television screen. 

Elodie squeezes her shoulder in what’s supposed to be a reassuring gesture but all it does is leave hard fingerprint marks indented in her soft skin. “Now for the boys.” She feels around in the glass bowl and holds a singular piece of paper between her index finger and her thumb. “Your male tribute is… Morgan Brooks!” 

In the crowd, Annie spots a tiny little thing being jostled towards the stage. His skin is pale and his baby blue eyes are wide as he stumbles up the stairs leading to the stage. He trips on the last step and falls flat on his face. There’s a murmur from the Peacekeepers but none of them move an inch.

Annie doesn’t know what possesses her to help him, but she hooks her hands under his armpits and hauls him up onto his feet. She can feel his bones poking out through his t-shirt and it makes her wonder when the last time he ate was.  

Elodie laughs awkwardly as Annie makes her way to the other side of the stage. Morgan’s face has flushed bright red as he tries to smooth out his clothes. 

Elodie runs a hand through her mane of black hair. “Let's give a hand to this year’s tributes!” she announces, voice all faux and high-pitched. “Something tells me it’s going to be an… eventful year for District Four!”

[tencrushesperday]

Blood runs thicker than water

pairing : matt rempe x hughes!reader

warnings : angst, and some description of bruises, sort of forbidden lovers, 1k

a/n : instead of studying for my exams next week i do this, i was listening to The water is fine by Chloe Ament and felt inspired

You wanted to stay until the end of the match. You wanted to congratulate your brothers on the win. You wanted to party with the team after such a huge win against their rivals.

But the blood was pounding in your ears and you didn’t know what to do with your hands. The crowd was so loud. Jack’s last conquest and Bratt’s girlfriend were chatting next to you. Yet you were feigning interest in the game to ignore them. Even though you could barely focus your sight.

Luke had gotten into an unnecessary fight during second period and Jack was right there to back him up. Both were okay. But the other guy wasn’t.

As soon as the second intermission started you excused yourself to the restroom then texted Nicole on your way to your car saying that suddenly you weren’t feeling good.

Fortunately, you’ve driven down this road so many times you didn’t have to focus to get home because suddenly you were in your apartment. You were on autopilot the whole time doing your night routine and then you were in your bed trying to fall asleep.

Sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes you would see him taking hit after hit. Him struggling to get up. His bloody face.

Then you heard keys turning in the lock and the front door shutting. You got up from your bed and marched out of your room, ready to send one of your bothers home.

“Matt”, you stopped dead in your tracks right outside your bedroom door.

There he stood, in front of the entrance, cheeks bruised, lip cracked.

“I’m sorry”, he only managed to whisper it.

He wanted to say a thousand other things but everything was pointless and painful. Looking at you was painful. Nothing was more appropriate than “sorry”.

He was the one who hit first. Even though Luke asked for it. He chirped Matt’s girlfriend without even knowing it was his own sister and Matt couldn’t let it slide. He also couldn’t tell Luke the truth.

The truth being you weren’t even his girlfriend.

You were just hooking up, keeping it casual, secret.

He would have loved it, have it been any other girl.

But he was so desperately in love with you. He wanted to hold your hand and take you on dates and have you cheering on him at his game. He loved waking up next to you and the casual evenings you spent at each other’s apartments, watching a movie, cooking together and telling each other about your days. He loved when you talked about hockey and he would promise you to take you play again, like when you used to do when you were younger. He even loved the stupid reels and tiktok’s you would send him in the morning on your commute to work because then he knew that you thought about him.

However, it has never gotten out of your apartments. His promise to take you to the rink to play hockey together was never fulfilled.

That he hated.

You kept looking at him. You couldn’t sleep because you kept seeing him getting hurt. But now that he was actually in front of you and even in the dim light coming in from the street you could see the bruises.

Not breaking eye contact you get closer to him as he silently takes off his shoes. He knows the rules in your home. He has a spare key. He knows you inside and out and he still can’t call you his and that’s worse than any hit from your brother, he thinks to himself.

“You left before third period.” He wants to wrap his arms around you and feel the warmth of your body to forget the cold of the ice.

You look at him before taking his hand and leading him to the kitchen. “So did you.”

You drop his hand and reach for two glasses in your cupboard.

He watches your every movement and anticipates your every word. You’re too calm but he knows there’s a storm brewing inside of you. You always go quiet when you’re upset and feeling too much. He knows that growing up with three brothers toughened you up and that, even if you’re working on it, subconsciously you still think that showing emotion is a weakness. Still he awaits your next words and actions. You have him wrapped around your finger so tight he almost wants to laugh at his poor situation.

You turn on the tap and let the water running until it’s at the right temperature before filling up your glass.

Matt can’t wait anymore. His patience thins with every drop of water. It’s pouring out of the faucet and going down the drain.

He’s right behind you when you turn around. You wanted to ask him if he wants water but your words die in your throat. He looks even worse up close. If you weren’t holding in your breath you would have sobbed at the sight.

Despair fills his eyes when you look up at him. He crashes his lips on yours and you can taste it right there.

You’re not mad he fought Luke. You know how it is on the ice, you know how Luke can be a little shit when chirping, you know how Matt can fly off the handle in such a situation.

You taste a metallic taste in your mouth as the slit on his lip cracks open at the fierceness with which he kissed you.

It doesn’t matter who he fought, he’s hurt and that’s what upsets you.

The metallic taste mixes with the saltiness of the tear that slid down your cheek. He catches the next one with the thumb that is caressing your skin, as he cradles your face.

Your fingers run through his hair. You can’t let him go. You tug him closer. You can’t tell your bothers. Not now. Every thought in your head contradicts the previous one. His other arm is wrapped around your whole body and pulls you impossible closer. You’re caught up in such a mess, one you made yourself.

But for tonight you’ll kiss Matt even harder. You’ll take care of his bruised lip. You’ll kiss the pain away.

Leaving the mess for tomorrow morning.