#shadow kisses men to be honest!

[misandristsonic]

old sonic art lets go🔥🔥🔥

[liliannadelaphinehartifelt]

Lucifer + Alastor - [ NSFW 3 ]

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A/N: Had this song on repeat since its release and it reminded me of these two so much…

WARNINGS: [ NSFW ] + [ MDNI ] + [ FEM READER ] + [ SLIGHT DUB CON ]

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Sharing is caring, but when it comes to being between the King of Hell himself and his newly established opponent - the all too cocky Radio Demon- you don’t have much say in who gets fair claim of your existence.

Sharing is caring, but only in the ways that matter to the men wrapped around your little finger. Lucifer needs your physical touch; he can’t go one moment without it, and god help you if you’re around other flirtatious sinners -he’ll be all over you for no reason at all. Hand on your hip, lower back, even on your ass if he’s feeling possessive. His height doesn’t matter, not when he can back hug you just fine, plant kisses on your head or temple, and sit you down on his lap without a second thought. Lucifer is a sucker for praising you, every word out of his mouth is sweeter than honey, and the knowing smile on his lips when you get all soft and shy from his gentle admiration swells his already massive sense of pride.

“You’re a sweet little sinner, aren’t you, baby doll?”

“I’m so proud of you, my love.”

“Oh, aren’t you just the cutest thing!”

“I’ll do anything you ask of me, sweetheart..”

“Atta girl…keep going…just like that…”

The King of Hell never runs out of patience for you, spending his free time in your presence without a care for his rival's foreboding aura. Though at times they blatantly argue, the drop of your sweet smile into a solemn frown has them both rushing out an apology. However, Lucifer is quicker than Alastor to admit his faults. He makes up for mistakes with sincere gestures, visiting you in the dead of night with the promise of pleasure radiating off him in tangible waves. By the following day, you can’t even begin remembering what you were angry about.

Sharing is caring, but Alastor has a hard time with both concepts. He’s not one for physical affection, preferring acts of service and gift-giving as alternatives. You don’t seem to mind, always at his side when he calls, a pretty little thing on his arm while he struts about hell running conspicuous errands, and a genuinely engaging sinner he doesn’t mind having deep conversations with. You contrast him in all the right ways: expressive but gentle, lethal but only when provoked. Unlike most demons, you hold value to Alastor, drawing out a softer, more honest version of the stag that most will never see. In private, you’re allowed to babble off his ear while he works, cuddle up in his lap when he’s feeling ‘vulnerable,’ and sometimes you’re lucky enough to get a few somewhat kind words from the overlord amid lingering kisses.

“What a pretty little thing you are,”

“I’m tempted to keep you all to myself, ma chere… Would you like that, hm?”

“I know you can’t help being a greedy girl, darling, but I’ll always be better than that pompous excuse for a king.”

“You love to provoke me, don’t you, little one? Prancing around the hotel like you do, smiling at every little thing, and showing off for attention..”

“It’s rather pathetic, but lovely things can’t control what they attract..”

He’s possessive, outright toxic in some instances, but you’re quick to manipulate the stag into an agreeable state with the threat of seeking out Lucifer’s company over his. This tactic occasionally works, but sometimes it enrages Alastor to bloodlust. His semi-polite exterior falters, causing the overlord to be on edge with everyone -especially Lucifer- and the king won’t let a chance to irritate him further slip by.

“Something bothering you, Rudolph?”

Lucifer snickers as Alastor enters the parlor through its shadows, automatically glaring at the sight of you straddling the blonde fallen angel with his hat lazily set on your head, and you giggle at his obvious disdain for the scene. “Oh, don’t look so upset, Al. I just wanted to play with Luci for a bit.. “ you flash him a cheeky grin, purposely shifting on the devil's lap to feel his growing erection and show more skin hidden underneath your fluffy oversized jumper. Lucifer chuckled, ducking his head to give you a quick kiss as the crackle of static resonated around the room, but you were far from scared of Alastor’s fury in the presence of his rival.

Sharing is caring, but later that night, when you snuggled under your bedsheets with Lucifer, lying on his bare chest, only wearing his dress shirt, soundly asleep, and listening to his undead heartbeat, you’re jolted awake by the distinctive coolness of shadows lurking over your skin.

“What made you think I wouldn’t put you in your place, my dear? That I wouldn’t remind you he’s not the only one who can lay claim to your very existence?..”

Alastor’s voice echoes through your head, coaxing you awake as his specters entangle around you. They tug, pull, squeeze, and ravish your small frame with his every word. Your cunt starts to pulse with need, leaking arousal in steady drops as a shadowy tentacle prods your entrance before sheathing itself in your warm walls with one sharp thrust.

“Ahm!” You yelp, eyes shooting open as a satisfied whine leaps from your lips; quiet moans soon follow as the bulk of shadows touches your womb with tender strokes. Two more snake up the borrowed dress shirt, swirling under the white silk with precise menstruations, encircling your fragile body ruthlessly until you’re forced to sit up in hopes of gaining more fleeting touches. “Alastor, you’re being mean…” you groan into the darkness, hips rutting down in timid circles, a reflexive action you try to maintain to avoid waking the man lying under you. Alastor’s low laughter shifts from your mind to the confines of the room, signaling his physical appearance in the space, and you’re tempted to search for him but aren’t given a chance to as the scrape of his sharp claws manifests along your sides. He’s close, so close you can feel him leering behind you, breathing in your ear as if he needed your scent to survive.

You lean backward, humming at the familiar firmness of his chest meeting your back,” Just wanted you to be a little nicer, that’s all…” Your explanation for earlier does nothing to quell Alastor’s jealousy; his hands hovering over your sides clamp down harshly, and his claws shred through Lucifer’s shirt to prick your skin. Your heart thuds wildly as a scream threatens to fall from your chest from the pain he causes, but your cunt clenches with excitement from his aggressive treatment. “Reasoning won’t help you now, darling. It seems you only understand one thing..” he purrs into your ear, red eyes glowing as they trace your flushed form, “A-and what’s that?..” you mumble fearfully, feeling a coil build in your core, but a pang of shame in your chest overrides it as Lucifer begins to stir below you. He’ll awake any second, and though you weren’t afraid of him seeing you in a whorish state, very used to being intimate with him, the unpredictable reaction he’d have to Alastor taking advantage of you right in front of his eyes was still nerve-wracking.

Sharing is caring, and Alastor’s response to your feverish question makes more sense than you care to admit. “Attention, my dear. You’re shamelessly addicted to it,” he drawls, smile widening when you whine helplessly, back arching as his shadows wrap around your breasts before swiping over your pert nipples while your cunt no longer resists forceful strokes of his shadows. Your vision blurs as the sensations blend, erasing mannerable actions from your thoughts the closer to cumming you got, and the riveting shivers vibrating your body were evidence enough. The subtle tremble of your thighs mixed with the combined noise of your soft moans and Alastor’s hushed taunting drew the King of Hell awake with a gentle start. Lucifer ruts his hips upwards on instinct before groaning tiredly, mildly aware of the familiar stickiness your arousal causes on his pale skin but unsure as to why it’s there. “Baby, what’s the matter-“He’s at a loss for words for a long moment, almost panting at the sight above him, confused at first but gradually intrigued as sleep waned from his consciousness. Alastor smirks, lips against your neck as he stares down at the fallen angel, daring him to instigate a fight. “Ah, looks like you awoke your preferred lover, ma chere. How rude…” the deer demon taunts you, clearly unbothered by your disagreements and conflicted writhing. “N-no, that’s not ah- ah- mmm fuck Al, please d-don’t!” A bright blush coats your cheeks, tears brimming your waterline as the demon nips at your bare shoulder before lapping up the blood that trickles from the wound. His gaze never leaves Lucifer’s as his tongue collects the red liquid, humming triumphantly as a prominent red color floods the ladders’ cheeks and eyes. “How fucking dare you..” the blonde hisses, voice thick with an indecipherable emotion, and you whine anxiously as embarrassment rushes your veins. It wasn’t your fault Alastor was taking his anger out on you this way, disregarding his aversion for touch in the hopes of getting back at you both, but it’d be a lie if you said you weren’t enjoying the intense situation brewing.

Sharing is caring, and you're afraid neither entity will consider doing so as a heavy beat of silence engulfs the room. The only sound is your rushed breaths, growing heavier with every thrust and twist of Alastor’s shadows in and around your body. You try to break free from the overlord, gazing down at Lucifer pleadingly for a better chance at forgiveness. Unexpectedly, his displeased expression morphs dramatically seeing the desperation in your eyes. He’d never been the type for sadism, let alone encouraging it, but your need for his help stirred a primal desire in his chest that he’d only felt sparks of recently. It was no help to him that Alastor, a demon with no remorse or pity for your plight, was the one indicting pleasure on you. He’d seen the stag agitated, irritated, and maybe even flustered but never lustful. It was new and undeniably attractive. Why waste an opportunity to use it against him?

Lucifer took a slow breath, stamping out his rage in seconds as his eyes shifted from your lidded ones to Alastor’s, “How dare you have fun without me, hm?… that’s a little unfair,” he pouts, stifling a groan as his cock twitches to life. The radio demon scoffs, forgetting his grudge against Lucifer for the mutual benefit of desire, “If you wished for fairness, you shouldn’t have fallen from heaven …” he taunts back.

Sharing is caring, but the instant sting of Alastor’s insult doesn’t anger Lucifer like usual. It eggs on the blonde, prompting him to reach for you, and you welcome the gentle coolness of his fingers trailing up front. Unlike Alastor, his claws do you no harm, never breaking skin even as he cups your jaw firmly. “C’mere, little one. M’ not going to hurt you…” he coos quietly, eyes glowing as brightly as Alastor’s as you leer into his touch like a wounded lamb. “Yes sir…” you whisper compliantly, surprised that Alastor relents his hold just enough to let you follow Lucifer’s lead. He’s relatively calm watching you, admiring how your hair falls like a curtain over your flushed face, skin glistening with a thin sheen of sweat, and the dress shirt slipping off your shoulders but sticking to your skin at every curve you had. There were reasons he wanted you to himself but dealt with sharing you with another, and this sight was one of them. You could be so good to them both, on all fours, cunt creaming from his actions and Lucifer’s words, and your loyalty to them both on a whole show no matter the implications.

Sharing is caring, and to some degree, you believe it’s a possibility for your relationship with a prideful fallen angel and an egotistical demon. Lucifer lay beneath your trembling form, muttering encouraging praises against your lips when he wasn’t connecting them with his own in heated kisses.

“Mhm, good girl…go on, come for him like you do for me.”

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby doll..”

“Fuck, you like that hm? Want more? Ask him nicely, sweetheart…”

“Cum for us, my love…”

“You’re doing so well….taking us so well. There you go, baby, all of it just like that…”

Alastor loses track of himself within moments of watching you come undone in his shadows for the first time, hungry to feel the warmth of your cunt for himself as puddles of your cum form on Lucifer’s crotch. You don’t fight him when he replaces his specter's task of fucking you, welcoming the length of his cock with a grateful smile and melodic moan of his name. “Alastor!… nghh yess, please r-right there!..” you yelp into Lucifer’s neck, letting him cradle your head as he talks you through the rise of your next high, “You sound so precious like this, baby. Give em’ what he wants.” His tone is strained, leaning towards a moan as he watches your expressions switch between pleasure and pure wonder. Alastor is fixated on the both of you, ears twitching at the top of his head with every satiated moan you let out and sinful word Lucifer says. His hands find purchase on your hips, gripping them harshly as he snaps his roughly, plowing his cock into your cunt with so much pent aggression your legs refuse to stop shaking. “Oh, fuck…” he groans in the air, tearing his gaze away from your arched back and leaking entrance to try and slow the impending peak of his high. Self-control was something Alastor prided himself in, but it was spiraling from his grasp the longer he fucked you.

Was this what the King of Hell had been enjoying with you?

Milking you of every drop of lust in your body?

Filling you with his overrated seed in the hopes of one-upping him?

If so, Alastor could never blame him. You felt divine, after all, and had no complaints about being used for pleasure.

Sharing is caring, but you forget all about it when Alastor yanks you away from Lucifer, a hand tangled in your head so tight you’re sure he might rip into your scalp if he holds you any tighter. Luckily, the overlord refrains from doing so, opting to groan into your ear as he buries his length to the hilt in your fluttering cunt, spilling ropes of warm cum into your abused womb with no remorse. “Don’t waste a single drop, ma chere. See it as a gift for being so well-behaved,” the radio overlay in his voice is gone, giving way to an accent you couldn’t resist mewling at. Lucifer chuckled, eyes fixed on where Alastor and you were connected, smirking at the mess you’d both made on top of him. “Need a taste of that…” he mumbles more to himself, tone hungry, demanding. You’ve yet to catch your breath before Alastor lets out a short laugh, flinging you forward into Lucifer’s chest without much care as to how weak you still are, “Greedy bastard,” he snickers, slowly pulling out of you with a satisfied grin at your attempt to keep him in. “Now, now, dear. I’ll have another turn with you soon. No need to be selfish..”

Sharing is caring, and oh, how wonderful it is when you’re sat in Alastor’s lap, facing away from him, one leg bent over his while the other rests on Lucifer’s shoulder. The King of Hell kneels before you both, inhaling the scent of your cunt, and smiling at the steady stream of cum drizzling past your folds. He’d done this many times before, a being addicted to the taste of women, of you specifically, but you still shied away from his vulgar eagerness. Your coy reactions only worsened when the notion of Alastor’s cum mixed with your own eventually settling on Lucifer’s tongue came to mind. They hated each other after all, and despite getting along most of the time in your presence, you never imagined this to happen, but neither backed down from the ordeal.

“W-wait Luci, you don’t h-have-“ you start to protest quietly, squirming in Alastor’s hold to avoid Lucifer, but your refusals don’t hold any weight to them.

“Mm, but I want to, love…I can’t help it,” the blonde whined as if he’d die without getting the task done, hands cupping your inner thighs tenderly as he flicked his tongue over your slit and swollen clit. You jolted in Alastor’s grip, biting back a whimper as he mumbled into the crook of your shoulder, “It’s impolite to refuse royalty, so let him have his fill …”

Sharing is caring, and you’re sure Lucifer could survive off eating your pussy alone just fine for the rest of his immortal life. He makes a show of it, diving his tongue in and out of your stretched entrance, moving to suck on your clit every so often before putting both actions into tedious repetition. You couldn’t remain coherent as he explored your insides with expert focus, letting his tongue linger in the spongiest and sweetest spots in your cunt just to draw back and generously spit on your clit. He’d learned your body, when to hit nerves, or when to overwhelm them. As of now, every sense you had was heightened, intensifying when Alastor’s eyes studied your facial expressions, your smile growing an inch more expansive when you rushed out a warning to Lucifer.

“Gonna cum m’ gonna cum…!”

The devil perks up, delving two fingers into you, red irises dilating completely as they hit a tender spot in your cunt immediately, curling against it at a languid pace. He met your gaze with a proud smile on his face, tongue lapping at your clit leisurely, begging you to come undone without hesitation. Alastor curses under his breath, agitated by the fact that your moans are turning him on again, and you feel his cock twitch under your weight.

Sharing is caring, and the euphoric bliss of releasing in Lucifer’s mouth felt divine, bringing small tears to your eyes as he buried his face in your mound, moaning at the taste of you drenching his tongue. Alastor grunts as your hips rock to meet Lucifer's pace, hands creeping up to cup your breasts, kneading the plush flesh mindlessly to avoid bucking his hips against your backside for better friction. He couldn't give his rival the triumph of seeing him worked up at the sight of you cumming so reverently under his touch. You felt powerless between them, shaking in Alastor's arms and pleading for Lucifer to join. One look is all it takes for the two to agree, giving into your minuscule wishes and thoroughly enjoying themselves the remainder of the evening.

Sharing is caring, but if you dare to utter a word of what transpired that night in the presence of others, both will deny the implication of tolerating one another. Although, you find yourself being used by both more often, stuffed full of their cum night after night, and keenly aware of the mutual trust growing between them when you finally collapse into sleep by their sides. They're capable of fair behavior with you, but only in private. Away from the eyes of others who’ll never witness how obsessed The Radio Demon & The King of Hell are with you and you alone.

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It's just a filler post cause I'm getting burnt out with requests! ❤️ I love your ideas, so I'm trying to write them all in my style but as concisely as possible. It's tiring but fun…

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

They may not be able to stand each other but I’ll gladly take them both (not in a fight) ❤️ credits to creator

[johnwickb1tsch]

Everyone is sending GIF requests, so, here is mine. Hint: Jealous John? (Though I doubt this man can ever be jealous but...whatever comes to your genius brain)

Thanks!

@sweetwolfcupcake SWEEETS!!!!! I loved this prompt SO MUCH!!! You're such a genius. *kisses your head* I hope you like this! 💗💗💗

Bodyguard!John Wick x Shy!Curvy!Fem!Student!Reader

⚠warnings: threat of noncon (not John), mention of parental death

For the record, you didn’t mean to fall in love with John Wick. But he was nothing like the other goons your father had tasked with guarding you before.  Wick was tall, and handsome, and had the soulful eyes of a poet. You know he’s dangerous; he can kill a man 30 ways with a pencil (the men of your father’s Bratva will not shut up about it) but he seems so…gentle. And the thing that really proved your undoing?

That good looking bastard was bookish, and it did something inconceivable to your lit major brain. Ever your dark shadow, you spent countless late nights in the library together, and so many Saturday afternoons browsing the used bookshops, combing for treasures. He would rescue the books that looked better fit for the waste bin, taking them to repair. Maybe he was there to protect you, for your father had many unsavory enemies, but it was easy to forget when John discussed with you the finer points of the Bloomsbury Set or the themes of Anna Karenina.  

Maybe your father assigned John to you because he was one of the few gangsters around in his brigata one could trust to guard a relatively innocent young lady–that didn’t mean John was safe from you. You just couldn’t help yourself; you’d like to plead insanity, your honor, the night you finally broke and tried to kiss him, while he was helping you with your homework for Russian Lit 301. 

How stupid you felt, how utterly pathetic, when he’d very kindly dislodged you from his so soft mouth, looking at you with pity in his sad dark eyes. “You know…we can’t do this,” he told you.

Mortified, you’d fled to your room and cried, knowing you are the most ridiculous human being on the face of the earth.

What were you thinking?

You are nothing like the tall, ethereal creatures that populate the clubs where Wick frequents with your father. You are shy, and curvy, and frankly…a nerd. An old soul, your father would say fondly, but you know he is just being kind.

You’re not sure how you got it into your head, that you were going to make Wick sorry. You’ve never been one for going out, but you decide to give it a whirl, wanting to be anyone but yourself. You decide to go to the Red Circle, to hang out with the other Bratva brats who care way more about clubbing and clothes and who’s fucking who, than classes at NYU. 

At first you really hate it–but after a few shots of vodka, it’s not so bad. John has to hang back, keeping an eye on you but not interacting with your friends. He’s scary good at lurking in the shadows, but you know he’s keeping an eye on every move you make. Maybe that’s why you let Alexsei kiss you, the son of a semi-friendly loan shark who works in proximity with your father. You don’t really like him, if you’re being honest. But he’s not totally hideous–and he’s there–and John will have to watch it all. 

You and Alex start to have a thing. It’s no big deal. Something to do, on the summer break from your studies. You invite him over to watch a movie, knowing you’ll have the house to yourself. Your father is always at his office doing business, your idiotic brother is always out getting into trouble with his khuligan friends, and your mother…is dead, God rest her poor soul. 

You can tell Alex is a little drunk, when he shows up at your door. He’s very handsy, when you settle in on the couch to watch the latest mindless action flick, his pick. It’s ok, until he tries to unbutton your pants.

You have a secret. 

You’re 21, nearly graduated from university–and you’re still a virgin. 

This is not a thing you intend to give to Alexsei Plushenko. You don’t even really like the way he touches you.

“Stop, Alex.”

“Don’t be scared,” he tries to coax you. “This will be fun.”

“No,” you say. “Let’s just…”

He covers your mouth with his, shutting you up, his heavy body pinning you on the couch. “Don’t be such a stuck up bitch.” His groping fingers squeeze your breast clumsily, painfully, before fumbling with your jeans again. You try to push him off, but he’s heavy, and strong.

Suddenly, he is yanked from you like he weighs nothing at all. You hardly recognize what is happening at first, until you hear the sound of flesh striking flesh. John is on him, his iron fist meeting the younger man’s face. 

“John! Stop!” 

Wick looks up at you, meeting your eyes in a primal lock of stares–your heart drops and soars again, as you feel as though you’ve stumbled on a wolf over his kill, and the wildest thing?

You get the inkling that wolf is jealous. 

“Don’t hurt him anymore,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. A beating will make some complications for your father. A death? Could mean war.

Wick punches the handsy young man one more time, his eyes never leaving yours, before hauling Alex up by the collar and frog marching him out the front door, tossing him down the concrete steps of your home.

John finds you waiting for him in the marble foyer, his eyes wild, his knuckles torn. You don’t even know what to say. 

“What did you even see in him?” he finally demands, clearly annoyed.

“He wasn’t you,” you answer without thinking.

Wick steps up to you, toe to toe, so that you have to crane your neck to meet his eyes. His hair has broken free from its slicked back style, tendrils in his eyes.

He’s never looked more beautiful, your savage savior.

“You’re trying to get me killed.”

You shake your head, the very thought anathema to you. You are transfixed, unable to look away, unable to think. “You’re too precious to me,” you admit, and screw your eyes shut the moment you admit it, a spear of mortification piercing you from your heart to your stupid, aching, cunt.

“Milaya…” 

It’s the sweetest thing he’s ever said to you.

Your eyes drop to his knuckles, torn open in his defense of you. “You’re hurt.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Not to me.” You don’t know where you get the courage, to take his hand, and lead him up to your room. You can hardly believe it, that he actually follows you. In your ensuite bathroom you dab at his knuckles with a washcloth, slather him with ointment and plaster him with bandaids. You run out of sober flesh colored ones, so the last cut gets a Disney bandage, Ariel and sea-flowers decorating this severe man’s knuckles. 

He lets you do all this, watching you intensely with those dark eyes you’re certain can see into your soul. You stand too close–and he lets you, this haunted man who watches over you day and night. Your whole life you have never wanted for anything, your father’s money buying you all your heart could possibly desire.

Until now.

You find it hard to meet his eyes, zeroing in on a spot of blood on his stark white dress shirt. 

“Y/n.” With a gentle knuckle under your chin he turns your gaze up to his again. “You are too smart, and too beautiful, to be wasting your time with a fuckboy like Alexsei Plushenko.”

The first part you already knew. The second, from this man’s lips? Your knees nearly collapse out from under you, a flood of excitement and dread coursing through your system. You almost can’t stand it–it’s like being burned alive, and your native shyness rears with a vengeance. 

You try to flee, back to the safety of your room, and your books, your imaginary lives that can’t really hurt you–but he catches your hand. His grip is not hard, but it is enough to stop you dead in your tracks. 

“Y/n…” He’s pleading with you, but you don’t understand what he’s asking you. 

“You said you don’t want me, John…” you say, still unable to meet his eyes. “So let me go.” 

He answers by pulling you against him, the solid line of his torso a brick wall beneath the hand you raise to catch yourself. But bricks are not warm, like the flesh beneath his designer clothes. You can feel the wires in your brain sizzling, the synapses simply melting down. Your heart is Chernoble waiting to happen. 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“You said–”

“I said, ‘We can’t.’ Not, that ‘I don’t want you.’”

You almost cannot breathe, your heart attempting to beat out of your chest, a ringing in your ears that drowns out all else. There is nothing, nothing, in this world you’ve wanted more, than to hear those words from this man. But now that he’s standing before you, against you, holding you–you cannot move. You do not know what to do. 

He solves this problem by cupping your cheek in his big hand–God, how you’ve noticed those hands–and then he is pressing his mouth to yours, gentle at first, but then…hungry. As though John Wick has been starving, for you, and it’s all you can do just to stand there and take it without melting into a puddle on the floor. His arms wrap around your back, holding you, lifting you to your tiptoes as he devours you. When at last he pulls back you are left seeing stars, struck utterly speechless with your hands on his broad shoulders. 

“Tell me to stop,” he raggedly demands, his eyes boring down into yours. 

Finally, you find your courage, meeting his stare. “I don’t want you to stop,” you whisper. 

“Good. Because I don’t think I can.” He kisses you again, just as hungrily as the first time, his arm an iron band around your waist and his fingers sneaking up into your hair. That’s your kryptonite: your hair, and blithely you know he can do anything and everything he wants to you now.  

Your father is a bad man, but you have not had a bad life. You have never known hunger, or true physical pain. He has protected you from the violence of his world. He has played things smart enough that not even the FBI can touch you, even though they absolutely know what he is and where your family gets its money. Despite all this, you have been dying inside, a slow, withering demise, until John Wick’s lips touched yours. He is the life-giving rain over the desert; your heart is a field of wildflowers erupting in a superbloom. 

This time, he leads you, in between kissing you, to the loveseat at the foot of your bed. He sits, and only when he tries to pull you into his lap do you resist. “John…I’m too…much,” you insist, conscious of your generous flesh and what it would be like to set that on top of him, afraid he’ll be horrified. 

However, he just scoffs at you, grabbing you up anyway and guiding you down. For a moment you are weightless–he knows how to upset a person’s balance, how to use their weight against them to put them on the floor. This time he uses it to put you on him. You’re not exactly proud of it, but the ease with which he utterly manhandles you makes your long-neglected lady parts sing with desire. 

“You are perfect, dietka,” he insists, pulling you closer with hands on your round behind, “And I am very strong.” For the first time in you can’t remember how long–he smiles at you. That beautiful half smile with a sparkle in his dark eyes that takes your breath away–you love him so much it hurts. 

This time you don’t feel so shy, about kissing him. You feel like your bones are filled with butterflies, and you both moan and giggle as you do your best to devour each other from the mouth down. Aside from an appreciative squeeze of your thighs bracketing his hips, he doesn’t try to seduce you, even though you know you absolutely would have given him anything he asked you for. He is content, just to kiss you, for this night at least, and oh. He’s good at it too. 

You decide you would burn down the world, for one more kiss from John Wick.  

Later you find yourself snuggled in your bed with John, fully clothed, your head on his shoulder as he toys with the fine hairs at the back of your neck. His touch is heaven, and with your legs twined with his it’s hard not to squirm and writhe against his muscled thigh like a horny little gremlin. 

Later, you tell yourself. It can wait for later. 

Like maybe, tomorrow. 

“We’ll have to be careful,” he warns you. “If your father…” 

If your father found out, the best thing that could happen to John is getting fired. 

“I won’t let you get hurt,” you promise, kissing his bearded cheek, praying you’re telling the truth.

He chuckles at this; a deep sound you feel more than hear. “I thought that was my job?”

“You know what I mean.” 

“I know.” He looks down at you with a tenderness that curls your toes. “It would be worth it, for you.” 

Your heart has suddenly decided it would like to take up residence in your throat–permanently.

“Oh, John…”  

He kisses you again, a soft brush of lips that renders you weightless. This is how you die: it’s almost too much to stand, this impossibly full feeling in your chest. Then he narrows his eyes at you playfully. “You have been driving me mad, you little minx. I wanted to kill everyone who so much as looked at you in the Circle.” 

You snort at the thought–you do not understand, really, that he could absolutely do it too. 

“Not to worry. I think the library is more my speed.” He rests his head against yours with a small, contented sigh. “Mine too,” he admits. The smell of old books around you is a soothing balm to you both. 

You know small bits of his past. Morsels he has sprinkled, here and there in the conversations you have had. You know he did not have an easy childhood. You know that this life was not really his choice. Even less so than most, who move and work in the Underworld. 

“If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?” you ask. 

He lifts an eyebrow at you. “I’m liking New York, at the moment,” he tells you with an affectionate squeeze. 

“Oh come on.” 

“Fine. I like Paris a lot.” 

“Hmm,” you answer, but what you think, is: Done.  You will have the opportunity to arrange to study abroad soon, and you think a trip away from the Tarasov territory might do you both some good.

Surely Papachka wouldn’t deprive you of your most trusted bodyguard?

[rebelliousstories]

From the Shadows

Relationship: Remy LeBeau/Gambit x Reader

Fandom: X-Men

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Word Count: 2,759

Main Masterlist: Here

X-Men Masterlist: Here

Summary: Shadows never cheat, steal, fight, or lie. But they are not all good either. A balance must be struck.

“Have you been able to find where she might have gone?”

“No, professor. She’s not anywhere we can reach ourselves. Have you not been able to reach her mind?”

This was now the second day that they had been searching for the young girl that had disappeared. Storm felt her heart drop when Xavier shook his head solemnly. This was not boding well for the situation at hand.

“Where’s the kid?” Logan had shown up from his excursion, and noticed the missing face from the equation.

“She is missing, Logan. Can you try to find her? Ororo, help him.” The professor delegated. He looked towards his friend, and nodded his head towards the door. As they left, Logan threw one last look to Charles, who looked defeated. Once the two were outside, Logan stopped Storm who looked a bit confused and a lot concerned.

“Be honest, Storm. How bad is it?” He grumbled, a furrow forming on his brows. There was a pause, and her expression worsened.

“It’s bad, Logan.”

~

A blissful Saturday morning had swept over the school. And two people were trying to make the most of it. While she tried to make them breakfast, he was too busy shoving his days old stubble into the crook of her neck.

“Remy, you gotta stop that. I swear, these eggs and bacon will be so tough, Wolverine can’t cut them.” She tried to shake off the man, but it was of no use.

“C’mon now, chere. Gambit’s jus’ bein’ friendly. You gonna turn down some lovin’?” He teased, sending a cheeky smile her way.

“Yes, I am.” She retorted, and giggled as she saw the faux offense that was apparent on his face.

“You wound me, chere. Ain’t neva’ gonna recover.” Remy made himself busy, while she was cooking, by getting the plates and silverware out for them to use.

In just a matter of moments, they were sitting down at the table and enjoying their breakfast. All was going well, until it was not. In between them discussing plans on what to do for that day and a personal vacation at some point soon, Storm had arrived in the dining room.

“Forgive the interruption, Gambit. But the professor wishes to see you in the war room.” With a sigh, he wiped his face off, and muttered an apology to his girlfriend. She watched the two of them go off together, and finished her breakfast alone.

It was just an hour or so later that he finally found her again. In a darkened corner of the library, he saw his lover reading. Having some time to herself is a welcomed treat on this Saturday afternoon now. His shadow blocked out the remaining light from the doorway, causing her to look up. She went to greet Remy, but it died on her tongue. He was in his suit, with a duffle bag at his feet.

“How long?” She asked, dog earring a page in her book.

“Hopefully, jus’ a couple days. Should be no more than five.” He replied solemnly. Her book was abandoned in favor of wrapping her arms around him as he did the same.

“No more than five days right?” Her whimper made the man’s heart break listening to it.

“No more. Look at me, chere,” he pulled them apart just enough to see her face. “Ol’ Gambit’s gonna be jus’ fine. You stay safe here for me, yeah? Can you do that, mon amour?”

She nodded, and stood on her toes to press a kiss to his lips. That was eight days ago. Eight days since he had left for that mission. Three days since he should have been home. And two days since she had disappeared into the shadows that she once called home. No one could find her because she did not wish to be found.

The Shadowlands were a tricky area to navigate. During the day, there is only so much space that she can travel through and manipulate. During the evening, however, she can roam more freely and has a far greater ability. Yet, with each passing second that she spends there, the light from the door back to the real world gets dimmer, and the shadows have more control over her.

Here, she found a projection of her favorite memories with her Cajun thief. Major moments like when he first said, “I love you,” or when he had saved her on a mission. There were small moments, everyday things, that played out as well; dinner at a nice restaurant to celebrate their anniversary that they had finally gotten the night off for, or even a time that she was able to lay on his chest and listen to him read for a change. Even when they first meet played out in her hall of memories.

Being on the street for a majority of your life was rough. Being a mutant on the streets for a majority of your life, now that was even tougher. But, it meant you grew up fast and quick. This was definitely her case. Marking her target, she did not feel bad about stealing the mutton chopped man’s wallet and taking off with it. However, when she bumped into a man close to her own age in a long brown leather trench coat, she came to regret it. Apparently, the two were friends, and mutton chops was not happy.

But the kind stranger did not throw her to the man or scold her. He just laughed. The stranger laughed as he took the wallet and tossed it back to the older man. Mutton chops stalked away, but the kind stranger stuck around. He had introduced himself as Remy LeBeau, or Gambit. Oh, he did tell her not to steal from scary people again, but he also gave her a wink and a card. Remy told her to call him if she ever wanted to be with people like herself.

At first she thought that he had meant other thieves, but no. Somehow, he knew that she was a mutant. That was the first time he saw her disappear into the Shadowlands. Gambit had seen the pretty woman one second, and then the faintest dark purple outline, before she went away completely. However, Remy noticed that the shadows were darker wherever he walked and felt himself smile.

That day stood out to her. This had been the first time someone was able to catch her going between the two fields. It was also the day that she realized that she would never be able to live without Remy LeBeau.

~

Stumbling in from the Blackbird, Remy felt his muscles seize from the long week it had been. What should have been an easy mission was anything but. Sentinels had captured them, destroyed the coms on their uniforms, and taken them longer than a week to get back home. But him, and his team was finally home.

“Everyone go get some rest. I’ll talk to the professor now.” Cyclops stated, nursing a busted lip and bruised cheek. Everyone thanked him before walking off to their own rooms. Remy was happily a part of the crowd until he came upon Storm and Wolverine running around frantic.

“You two look more nervous than a gator at a fish fry. What’s goin’ on?” He questioned, readjusting the strap of his duffle bag on his shoulder.

“We can’t find your girl, Cajun.” Dread filled his heart. The bag dropped.

“Well she didn’t just leave. She couldn’t’a just left!” Remy held his head in his hands, and looked like he was going to collapse. Storm placed her hand on his shoulder and helped to stabilize him.

“Wait, I think I’ve got something,” Wolverine commented. He began taking off in the direction that his nose was leading him to, with Gambit and Storm close behind him. Following the trail, the group was lead into a room that was all too familiar for Gambit. This was his room, the one he shared with his lover.

“It smells like her, but it smokey. Kinda like Nightcrawler’s scent after he teleports.” Logan explained, moving closer and closer to where the smell was coming from.

“She been dabblin’ in the Shadowlands then. Oh I hope she ain’t been in der long.” Remy opened the door that led them there to find, nothing. There was no sign of anyone; living or dead. But when he turned on the light, he realized that he knew what happened.

Different coats and pieces of his clothing were strewn about the closet. They looked like a little nest in there, with her favorite article of his at the top. An old sweater that he has had since his thieving days back in Louisiana. She loved that thing for some reason, but he always let her take it. There was still a faint purplish hue that lingered in the room. And that told Remy all he needed to know about where she had gone.

“We gotta find some way to get her back. We don’ know how long she been in dem Shadows.” Remy grumbled, stalking out of the room. The other two X-Men followed close behind and each exchanged worried glances with the other.

“Professor. Professor!” Gambit called out as he stepped into his office where the man was reading a book in the corner.

“Gambit, glad to see you are back. I imagine the others have informed you of the situation at hand.” His words were always so calm and precise, but that was just adding to Gambit’s frustration.

“She’s in the Shadowlands, Professor. We gotta get her back here.” The man near growled.

“I understand your frustration, Gambit. But you and I both know that it’s extremely difficult to get into that plane of existence without her help. That said, Beast has made a machine that should work,” Charles began to lead the trio of his students down to the lab. “We began working on it the last time she got stuck there. It works similarly to the way she is able to get in. By displacing matter inside of an established shadow, you should be able to join her in the Shadowlands.”

Inside the lab, Beast was working on the final touches to a new machine in the corner. The man was excitedly tweaking the different knobs and whatnot. As Remy stepped closer, he looked suspiciously at it.

“Don’t much care about how it works, only that it works.” He said sincerely, watching with intent in his eyes.

“Okay, stand back. We’re going to try this.” Dr. McCoy stated, going over to a panel off to the side. Stepping back, Remy watched as, in just a few moments, a purple, misty portal like image showed up. Taking a deep breath, he decided to just jump straight in without a care in the world.

Landing, he immediately noticed how different the world looked. Everything was casted in a shadow. Everything was dark, and crumbling around him. But he did not care; Remy was going to get his girl back. Shadows jumped from around corners, and startled him a couple of times. He just kept going. Leaving no stone unturned, Gambit was scouring the world he was in for his girlfriend, and yet he could not find her. That is, until he saw something. Rather, he heard something. He heard his own voice play out in different clips, and her own respond to him.

“Chere!” Running towards the sound, Remy breathed a deep sigh of relief as he saw her. She was watching the memories as if in a movie theater. It did not appear that she heard or registered that her actual boyfriend was there in front of her.

“Chere, thank heavens I found you.” This finally caught her attention. Turning to face him, she gasped and tears welled in her eyes.

“Remy,” she breathed out in a whisper.

“Hey, whatcha doin’ here, chere? You know it ain’t good for you.” Kneeling down, he wrapped his arms around her and brought her in close.

“You’re real? You’re actually real and here?” She whimpered, feeling the tears racing down her cheeks and land on Gambit’s shoulder.

“Whatchu mean, chere? Course Gambit’s here. Ain’t nothin’ keepin’ me from comin’ home to ya.” Pulling away, his hands cupped her face and wiped the tears from it.

“I thought you weren’t coming home. You’ve been gone with no contact the last few days. I thought… thought,” her words trailed off as she felt more tears form.

“Put that thought outta ya head, chere. I’m alrigh’. Your Remy is right here.” He tried to comfort her to the best of his ability in this world. They sat there for a few minutes as they allowed themselves to console each other. But Gambit had to pull them away in order to look her in the eye.

“Chere, we gotta get outta here. C’mon, let’s go back. Get you well again.” As he pulled them up, she looked to be in a bit of a daze.

“I don’t even know how long I’ve been in there.” She confessed, looking around. Yet, Remy just placed his hand gently on her face and brought her gaze back to him.

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. We’ll make you better once we get out. Just focus on that.”

Taking her hand, Gambit led them around the Shadowlands. He was trying to find the door again, but it was so easy to get turned around in there. And Remy knew that she had been in too long to get them back out herself. Which only left it to him finding the door Hank had unlocked. Hopefully, it had not shut again.

Slowly but surely, everything started looking familiar which made him feel better. She was busy keeping a lookout on their backs, as she usually did when they were on missions together. The light from the door shown through the darkness all around them. But a tug on his sleeve got the man to turn around to whatever his girlfriend was looking at.

A large shadow monster was snarling down at them. Purplish flames danced around the outline, and glowing white eyes stared them down. Remy knew that this was just a manifestation of her own mind attacking her. However, she was not able to get out of that state of mind as she was frozen in shock.

“We gotta go now, chere. Don’t look back.” He tugged her forward, but was unable to get her to move. Sighing deeply, Gambit picked her up in his arms and ran towards the door that was shinning brightly.

He could hear the beast growling behind him, but did not slow down. Tucking her head in close, Remy jumped through the gateway and waited. When he opened his eyes, he saw the lab. Beast, Storm, Wolverine, and the Professor were all looking at them down on the floor. In his arms, his girlfriend was passed out and slumped over.

“Beast, let’s get her to the infirmary.” Xavier ordered. Gambit picked the woman up, but the blue furry man took her from them before he could fall again. Vaguely, Remy heard the professor call for Wolverine to get him to the infirmary as well, but it all sounded like it was coming from underwater. Black overtook his vision while the man hauled him over his shoulder.

Something warm encompassed his hand as Remy came to from his sleep. His eyes blinked away the bright lights that blinded him, but he was slowly coming out of it. Shaking his head, he began to sit up and looked over at what was warming his hand. Slumped over in a chair next to him was his girl. She was asleep herself, but he smiled as he reached over with his other hand to brush a strand of hair away. In doing so, she began to stir.

“Remy!” She exclaimed, wrapping her arms around him and tackling him to the bed again.

“You miss me, chere?” He chuckled, and wrapped her up in his embrace. Pressing a kiss to her head, Remy let out a deep sigh as he relaxed.

“Don’t do that again, please.” Her words were muffled by his chest.

“Neva’ again. Ol’ Gambit’s stickin’ ‘round for a bit. So long as you don’t go stickin’ ‘round dem shadows again.” Nodding, he felt her own body relax into their embrace. Both of them were just happy to have the other in their arms after such a bad scare from both parties.

[vicocaaisha]

Crazy for You

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

Sypnosis: Desperate for Harin's attention, you tried to make her jealous that somehow ended good and bad?

Warnings: Kidnapping, Yandere!Harin, fluff at the end! (Part 1, you can read this or skip it.)

Requested by: @churim

You’ve been trying your best to avoid Suji, ever since Harin confessed her feelings for you.

However, Harin has still left you on your own. Who knows where she is. It made your stomach upset because of the anxiety you’re feeling.

Maybe she was toying with you? Maybe she lost interest and got bored? Who knows. Your mind is clouded with doubts.

With nowhere to go, you decided to seek help from Suji. Maybe Harin will come out if you talk to Suji?

“Hey, Suji-ah.” You waved to her. You were nervous because you ghosted her after talking with Harin. Suji is cold hearted to be honest and you expected her to ignore you.

“I don’t want to hear your excuses, Y/N.” Suji said as she walked away from you

Harin is totally ignoring you. You tried to approach her but then Wooyi got in the way and pushed you then told you to “stay away”. She didn’t even look at your way even if you fell after Wooyi pushed you. She was overprotective over you before.

You don’t get it.

Last week, Harin just confessed her love and now she’s acting cold towards you now?

There’s nothing else you can do but follow and try to gain Suji’s trust; you failed miserably.

In the end, you felt helpless.

As you were laying in bed late at night, you realized that you got played because Harin knows you’re totally whipped at her with everything she does. You were regretting so bad for betraying Suji, and so disappointed that you fell for Harin’s sick manipulation.

An idea went to your head as you were laying in bed. What if you make Harin jealous on purpose? Maybe she’ll come out or if she didn’t care at all then it’s time to give.

You quickly jumped out of your bed and wrote a "love letter" for Suji.

Harin is glaring at you because you bump into her, purposely.

“Sorry.” was all you said with no feelings at all before walking away from her, but in your mind, you were high fiving yourself because of your plan. When you bump into her, you let your love letter for Suji fall.

The love letter only contains about how you regretted liking Harin and that you truly wish that you were dating Suji instead.

That will do the work! You thought to yourself.

When you were out of sight, Harin picked up the paper that fell from you.

It has a kiss mark? Harin thought to herself.

Harin thought it must be for her not until she read the contents. She was fuming with rage, what was that she read about? You like Suji and not her? You regretted kissing her?

Oh boy, she felt like she could hurt someone on the spot.

You were walking with Suji after school. Suji felt tired of telling you to go away because of your pessimistic manner. You don’t even want to talk to Suji at that time. You were just kind of wishing that Harin was watching you being all over to Suji.

“Forgive me already, Suji-ah!” You said while hugging Suji’s arm.

Suddenly, a black van stopped in front of both of you, and it opened. It opened! Four men crowded over the two of you and put a sack over your heads.

You tried to shout, but the unknown man put his hand over your mouth, in which you struggled to breathe. You felt like you were going to pass out from the restriction of air and the feeling of fear you have right now.

Why did you decide to go home late with Suji? You should have gone home right away after the bell rang! You were regretting everything. You felt Suji being thrown out after the van was driven away.

It’s getting harder to breathe, you’re hyperventilating because of all the things that are happening. With that you passed out.

When you woke up, you were tied in a chair. Your arms and feet are sore from the tight rope that is against your skin.

The room was dark, you were so, so scared. A shadow suddenly appeared.

“Mhhm!” You struggled against the cloth on your mouth. You were hoping that person would help you.

“Tsk.” was all you heard from that shadow, it sounds like it’s a feminine voice.

“Do you really like Suji?” Harin opened the light and it revealed her as the perpetrator of all these happenings.

You were shocked; can’t even move anymore. She was holding a knife, you really are so scared right now.

Harin walked towards you, with a knife in her hands. She removed the cloth that is blocking you from talking.

“Speak.” Harin demanded.

“I– I don’t!” You said before bursting into tears. You were so scared of her, you didn’t know that Harin is capable of this, she is crazy.

She’s crazy for you.

“Then what’s this paper about, hmm?” Harin waved the paper on your face, with the lipstick mark you left on and you can still smell your perfume that you sprayed on the paper.

“Harin, will you believe?” Your mouth was quivering from fear.

“Tell me!” Harin shouted, it echoed throughout the room. You startled from it, you’re regretting everything.

“I w–was trying to make you jealous. Y–ou left me on my own, I thought you didn’t like me anymore.” You managed to say with sobs in between them.

“I’m sorry, Harin, I like you. I do!” You said as you were crying really hard this time.

Harin’s gaze softens after hearing your explanation, but that isn’t enough to trust you again. She felt like you betrayed her.

“I was upset, I don’t want to be far away from you again!” You added. You felt like this was your last day. You should have eaten that burger you’ve been craving.

Unexpectedly, Harin lost the grip on her knife and it fell. She also fell, crying.

As she was crying, she held onto your clothes. She was hugging you too. It lasted about a few minutes before she regained her composure.

She picked up the knife again and this time, she freed you from being tied. When you stood up, Harin hugged you suddenly. You embraced her hug and rested your head on her shoulders, you felt tired.

“I’m sorry for everything, I freaked out.” Harin mumbled. She felt peaceful when you hugged her back.

As you can see, Harin isn’t good at expressing her feelings. She instantly lost it when she read your love letter for Suji and she felt like something needed to be done. She thought that if she kidnapped you; you could be forever hers.

That night, Harin explained to you everything. She told you that she was really scared of being in a relationship because she has trust issues that’s why she was ignoring you.

“I only have my eyes on you, Harin.” You reassured her.

You went home with her. She cared for the bruises formed on your wrists, she bathed you, and cuddled you on your bed.

“Don’t leave me again.” You said as you looked at her eyes. The room was dimmed, the source you only have is the moonlight and it shines right through Harin’s face.

“I’ll try to break my walls down for you, Y/N.” Her eyes were glistening. She’s so pretty but crazy.

I'll write a Doah x Reader soon! Hope you guys like it^^

Also, I think I can only write a bottom reader, but I'll try my best to write a top!reader.

Send request guys, hehe.

[homeofthelonelywriter]

Your lips | Pt. 4

(A/N) Aaaahhhh it's almost over. There will be an epilogue tho, so look out for that!

Pairing: Simon x fem!pregnant!Reader

Warning: mutual pining, medical stuff (nothing graphic), mention of scars, pregnancy, kissis, birth and everything it entails

Synopsis: Your water broke, but Simon's away on a training exercise. Will he make it back? And will the birth go smoothly?

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Epilogue

You almost pissed yourself as the door to your hospital room flew open. There was Simon, still in full gear, covered in sweat and panting as if he had just sprinted the entire way to the hospital. His eyes immediately found your form and…you waved.

“Are….aren’t you in…in labor?”

You tilted your head to the side, a soft smile on your face.

“I am. Why?”

He groaned, finally giving in and leaning onto his knees as he kept panting. Behind him, three shadows appeared in the doorway, peeking in around his form. You smiled and waved, knowing that these had to be his teammates. After a few moments of rest, Simon rose back to his full height and walked over to you. You were lying in a hospital bed, a few wires attached to you, but all in all, you looked happy and healthy.

As soon as Simon was close enough, he pulled his balaclava up over his mouth and pressed a kiss to your lips. Then, he turned around and motioned to the three men still standing in the doorway.

“Sorry, I brought company.”

You grin at him, waving the others to come in. First was an older man with a beard and a fishing hat. This had to be Captain Price. The next one was younger, about Simon’s age, with a Mohawk. Definitely Johnny. The last one had a darker complexion, and good lord was he handsome. Kyle, Simon always described him as the prettiest on the team. Not your type, but definitely pretty.

“Ma’am. I apologize for the intrusion, Simon was just worried and we wanted to make sure you were alright.”

You smile and wave of his concern, instead motioning to the couch and the chairs scattered around the room.

“Please, it’s okay. Sit down, stay for a bit.”

Then you turned to Simon.

“I packed a pair of sweatpants and a few shirts for you. They’re in the bag in the closet, if you want to change. A medical mask is also in there, probably more comfortable than the balaclava.”

Simon nodded and pressed a quick kiss against your forehead, before he walked to the closet and grabbed the bag, disappearing into the bathroom. Once inside, he quickly combed through what was in there, smiling when he found the grey sweats he knew you loved on him. He decided to take a quick shower, before changing. Twenty minutes later, he walked out to find you laughing along with his teammates.

“He did not!”

Price chuckled as he leaned back in his chair, nodding.

“Oh, he did.”

You were laughing so hard, you started crying. Simon immediately cleared his throat, a frown evident on his face as he sat down beside your legs.

“What were you talking about?”

Instinctively, you reached out to him, his hands automatically taking hold of yours. Your smile widened as his thumb started to stroke the back of your hand.

“Nothing, John was just telling me some stories about you.”

Simon groaned, glancing at his Captain, before he looked back at you.

“How embarrassed do I have to be?”

You shook your head.

“Not at all. But I have to get my stories from someone else since you don’t tell me any. Not that I’m complaining, to be honest, your friends here are amazing.”

Simon smiled underneath his mask and raised your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles.

“I’m glad you like ‘em. But…”

Simon drew the word out, turning to his teammates.

“…I’m gonna kick them out now.”

You started to complain, but before the words could leave your lips, a heavy contraction hit you, and your face screwed up in pain. Simon’s focus immediately landed back on you, his grip on your hand tightening as your grip tightened as well.

After a few moments, the pain started to subside again and you finally were able to take a breath. You peeked up at Simon, your lips pulling into a pained smile.

“It’s okay. I’m okay.”

Simon nodded, but the concern didn’t fully leave his face. Behind him, the other three got to their feet and slowly walked to the door, waving as they left. You quickly focused back on Simon, who still looked concerned, so you reached up and gently cradled his cheek, stroking along the scar on his cheekbone.

“Si, I’m okay.”

You lowered your hand and with a groan, pushed yourself over to the other side of the bed, making pace for Simon to crawl in. He did and turned so you could lie your head on his chest, his arm resting on your waist.

And that was how you spend the next hours. Relaxing with Simon by your side and working through contractions as they hit. After eleven hours, the doctor came in and finally told you it was time to start pushing. By that point, Simon had moved to a chair next to the bed, holding your hand as you curled up in pain.

“It’s okay, love. I’m here. I’m here my love. I’m here, I’m here.”

He kept repeating these words as he leaned over you, holding your hand and kissing your forehead, not caring about how sweaty you were. He stayed by your side, holding you, telling you how good you were doing, how wonderful you were. And when the first cry of your baby rang out and tears started to stream down your cheeks, he just closed his eyes, leaned his forehead against your shoulder, and started praying. Thanking whatever was above that you and the baby were safe.

And then they held her up for a moment, offering you and Simon a glance at the baby.

“It’s a girl.”

The nurse smiled at you two before she carefully put her on your chest, your arms immediately wrapping around her tiny body, covered by one of Simon’s hands.

“She’s beautiful.”

It came out as a whisper and you glanced up at Simon, not missing the few tears rolling down his cheeks. He chuckled and nodded.

“She is. But so are you.”

He pressed his lips to your forehead, a quiet sob escaping your lips at his words. After giving you a few moments to hold her, a nurse took her away to complete some checks. While they were doing that, the doctor helped you birth your placenta and finished you up, before she left. After an hour or so, you had your baby girl back in your arms, with Simon lying beside you, holding both of you.

A yawn escaped you as you lay there, Simon chuckled softly.

“Growing tired, love?”

You sleepily nodded your head and leaned against his shoulder, cuddling into him.

“Giver her here, I’ll put her in her bassinet and she’ll be right there when you wake up.”

Although you wanted to keep holding her, you knew he was right. So, with one last kiss on her tiny hands, you let him take her and place her in the little bed, right beside your bed. He stayed there for a few moments, making sure she was alright before he joined you back in bed.

You immediately cuddled against him, resting your head on his chest, before closing your eyes and drifting away. But before you could fall asleep completely, Simon carefully pressed his lips against your forehead, catching your attention. You hummed, letting him know that you were awake still.

“Thank you. I know she isn’t mine, but…I’ll treat her as if she is. I promise I’ll take good care of you two. I promise.”

Your eyes fluttered open and you smiled at him.

“I couldn’t imagine a better father.”

He smiled and pulled you even closer, letting himself drift off with you in his arms and his baby girl right next to him.

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Call of Duty - Masterlist

Master-Masterlist

Tags: @brinteylovesaliens @m3ntally-unstable @gingergirl06

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[bowieandqueen11]

Small Spoon / Joel Miller Imagine

Request: sis i am a simple woman

i saw small spoon joel and now i need a fanfic

GIRL I got you I got you @aninnai​

Also sorry in advance I mixed a bit of what happens in the game with what happens in the show for fun lmao​

If you enjoy, please comment and let me know! It really helps so much :)

Warning: strong language, mentions of explosions and injuries/blood, mentions of drugs and alcohol, mentions of guns and a little nsfw!

(I do not own the Last of Us or its characters, all rights go to creators. Gif credit goes to @lousolversons.)

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

Like the Boston quarantine zone, the apartment was draped in darkness by the time you slammed the door shut.

It had been a disappointing day all round: first Robert steals your guns and pills and decides for extra fun to jump you on your way back home, then queen Firefly herself decides that during your excursion through the other side of town’s checkpoint is the perfect time to bomb the place. You spent half the time trudging back along the side streets picking shrapnel out of your bleeding shoulder, and the other half waving off some straggler friends who were concerned about the new bust over your lip.

‘Robert. It was that goddamn Robert again’, you’d say and wave them all off back to their card games or their street sweeping duties. A few raised eyebrows or wolf whistles as they turned, but everyone knew that with Joel and you still together, it wasn’t you they should be worried about. It should be the fury in Joel’s eyes as soon as he found out a hair on your head had been harmed; it was the warpath, the ravage, the raging heart flinging and panging against the bars of its cage that would bring the whole state to its knees with its laceration.

The docks could wait till tomorrow. To be honest, at the moment, you were that tired you couldn’t really care less about your new lot of lost cargo. All you wanted to do right now was to kick off your muddy boots, crawl yourself into bed, and splat your face straight into the warm, broad expanse of the man that would be waiting there to lie beside you.

Speaking of, Joel had promised he would try and wait up for your return. By the way you shouldered your splintered apartment door, pushing with all your force until the creaking hinges finally gave in and swung open to the familiar musty smell of your shared room, you could already tell he hadn’t managed it. Instead of a pistol to your face in the case of you being a stranger, or one of Robert’s men, or even some half-hearted grumbles of salutations from the man who should have been hunched over the table trying to fix the new dent in his pistol, you were greeted with slain silence.

As you kick the stack of training manuals by the kitchen counter out of the way, the train of events before your arrival back home became even more crystal clear. By the half-thrown chipped tumbler and the fractured looking pill bottle left abandoned on the dining table, it wouldn’t even take FEDRA’s soldiers two guesses to find out how well his day had gone too.

You tiptoe around the side of the bed and squint, barely able to make out the gentle rise and fall of the sleeping man’s chest through the broken slants of the shades. Bless his heart, even in his sleep the crinkles in his forehead are as deep as the currents of the Allegheny River. He must be having a nightmare, from the way his mouth keeps fumbling and his fist squeezing into the frayed edge of his pillow. Even the vapours of moonlight that slanted in through the cragged skyline, the sharp pelts of spotlights that skim from time to time through your bedroom window like phantom shadows couldn’t soften the man’s haggard face. 

With a sigh, you press the back of your hand fondly over the scruff of his cheek, trying not to wake him as you lean down to press a quick kiss against the creases on his forehead. No amount of light seemed to be able to crack through this man’s walls; no peace, little hope, and even less optimism, and still his fingers move out across the bed to try and reach yours as if on some invisible tide.

The gesture is small, but coming from Joel Miller it meant everything. It isn’t much, but you were the first person in twenty goddamn years he was willing to offer the remains of himself, his heart up to. So far, you hadn’t let him down; if you did, the both of you knew that he would regress even back further into himself, warping back into the shadow of a man he had been all those years ago when Tommy first left. When he left behind nothing but repressed rage and grief and a loathing so inflamed it could have scared a clicker stiff. At himself, at his brother, at the world - you could never tell. But you understood one thing for sure: Joel Miller wouldn’t be able to survive another loss. It would destroy him, change him too far beyond recognition that even he couldn’t come back from it.

You could tell from his dreams, that in the end, that’s what he thinks he deserves. And yet he always still reaches out, in one way or the other. ‘That’, you think as you let your hand fall from his face and flop it back down towards your lap ‘is the part of him that Sarah managed to get. That sweetness is just begging to be let out.’

You smile as you stand up and stretch, taking in a needed deep breath after the day you’d had. The same day you’d had for the last ten years, over and over again. And yet it was worth it, as you paced over the creaking floorboards and headed over to your side of the mattress, if it always ended like this: with comfort, stability, and a beating heart beside you.

‘Scootch.’

Only an incomprehensible murmur and two barely blubbering lips were your sign that Joel had even recognised what you were saying, but after a groan he obliged and shuffled his body over to the right. It left you ample of opportunity to slide in stealthily behind him, Joel already lifting his arm up in anticipation for the feel of your fingers over the side of his jean shirt.

For his sake, you pretend that neither of you notice the tremble that rushes like shooting spores straight down the muscles of his body. Instead, you relish in just languidly letting your fingers float like fireflies over the side of his hip; you spread them out, dancing through the coarse light just before you reach the bone. You scratch against the material, letting it ride up until your fingernail comes in contact with his flushing skin. Teasingly, you grab at the meat of his hip and enjoy the way he puffs out, unconsciously pushing himself back against you. You trace your fingers further forward, inch by inch, tracing the inseam of his jeans...and then suddenly stop. You only start again when he gives a hoarse groan in warning: one that reverberates through his back and makes your breath hitch as it grumbles against your chest.

You press yourself flush against him, giving in and properly wrapping your arm round his waist until your hand reaches his stomach. Finding his bellybutton, you give it a little poke which earns you a kick back from his leg in retaliation, but you can hear the light chuckle he admits despite himself.

‘Late night again, huh?’, he mumbles out. His pursed lips are half open and don’t rise from the pillow. As he lethargically blinks a couple of times, he pretends it’s because he’s too tired too move. He knows deep down in the pit of his stomach, though, that you’re too astute that let that lie fly over your head. You know the man too well, and you know damn rightly that he’s enjoying the feeling of your face smooshing itself into that little soft dip to the side of his shoulder blades. He’s just far too stubborn to ever admit it. But even so, Joel Miller’s silence speaks wonders.

‘Oh, same old same old. Robert’s being a little asshole again.’

‘Oh he is now, is he?’, he turns his head, making as if he’s trying to get up but your quick to push him back down again.

‘He and his little gang of morons can wait until tomorrow. I, on the other hand, am freezing cold. And you, Joel Miller’, you squeeze your arms into a vice around him and lift your legs up to slide in between his knees. They rest heavily, tangling against your own, and the weight is the most wonderous thing you’ve felt all day. ‘You are the best source of heat in all the damn zones put together.’

He lets his elbow rest comfortably on top of your own despite your words, so used to the back and forth between the two of you by now that they just wash over him. In fact, when he feels your forehead bump against the small litter of freckles you know line the left side of his shoulder, that spread of constellations running from the dip of his neck down his left shoulder blade, he even chuckles.

You feel his hand slide down from where it was resting under the cup of his chin to entangle with your fingers. He tugs them in to the heat radiating from his chest, and you take the opportunity to scratch out against the loose buttons of his shirt.

‘You just keeping me ‘round ‘cause of that? If I’m so damn warm, maybe I should go and donate all your jackets to FEDRA.’

You press a kiss against the tightened denim of his arched back and smirk.

‘Yeah, well maybe I should start selling you out for some ration cards. Five of them cards for a ten minute hug with Joel sounds like a pretty easy business to me.’

‘As long as I get 50%.’

‘25% and you’ve got yourself a deal.’

In a surprisingly tender move, Joel brings your intertwined hands up and presses an unhurried kiss to the back of your knuckles.

‘Hmph, we’ll negotiate in the morning. Maybe I’ll make it so you’re my only customer, and then I get the best of both worlds. Hugs and ration cards.’

He says the last part with a sarcastic intonation, but even he can’t stop the helplessly hoping sigh that whistles through his teeth. He shuffles back against you and closes his eyes against the creeping crimson threads of sunrise that begin to shoot out from behind the alleyway corners.

‘How about now, we just settle for hugs. I have no doubt you’ll manage to get Robert’s ration cards tomorrow as well.’

‘Back to business, huh? Sure thing boss.’

You manage to get enough momentum to hit his belly with your hands. He pretends to double over, pushing against you a little too hard and nearly thrusting your abdomen backwards and straight out onto the floor. You manage to grab onto his biceps, though, and clamber back up safely against him. He pulls you tighter, using his free hand to draw circles over your forearm. Once you’ve both settled down on the mattress again, you take a final yawn and settle your chin down on his shoulder.

‘Good night Joel.’

He hums. ‘Night, night, sweetheart.’

As consciousness began to ebb, your mind going into free fall, swirling with the beautiful chaos of oblivion, you could just about make out the hoarse whisper of Joel against his pillow. His voice cragged with the effort, with the heaviness of it, with the consequence of it, yet every word managed to ring out true. It was the most genuine, honest sentence Joel Miller had dared to speak since his baby girl had died, and he was petrified by the choice he was making.

But by god, if it was a choice, if it was a chance that he had to take.

‘I love you.’

[2smolbeans]

Ride or Die

The first year of freedom

Orginal post

Tags: There are 2 darlings and yans, reader bonds with other darling, yan ceo, escape, faking deaths, slight stockholm syndrome, failed fake death, yan ceo was an ex from high-school.

__________________________

The moment you escaped Marco, you were light as a feather. With your legs carrying you like the wind, body pumped with adrenaline. You nearly fell on your face as you sprinted towards the road, waiting for April to meet up with you. Anxious was an understatement, you were fucking PARANOID at your tippy toes. Everything could go so wrong. Every whistle of the wind could be Marco pulling up in his car, ready to drag you back to that lovely secluded house. Every sound could be an indicator for Marco showing up behind you. You heard running coming from the tall grass, and you were prepared to sprint. Like a cat with its back arched and its tail frizzled, your senses were heightened and you prepared for the worst. You jumped, almost screaming when you saw the figure lunge out from the shadows. But once you got a good look of the silhouette, you calmed down. Short, weak looking, thank god it was him. You rush towards him, laughing nervously with relief as the two of you began to run to your final destination.

God only knows how much preparation it took for you to escape your kidnapper's clutches. Faking your death and avoiding the security cameras, was no easy feat. Not when your oh so loving captor pestered you 24/7, not giving you a minute to breathe your own air. It took MONTHS, of buttering him up, STRENGTH to not crack under pressure, MENTAL BRUTALITY to kiss and fuck him. But, when he finally thought you came around..It opened that opportunity. To be honest, there were moments when you thought of staying, when you wished to keep that loving domestic life. You couldn't help it. Marco was attractive, everything you've always wanted in a guy. Rich, tall, handsome, muscular, and so loving like a cute golden retriever. He was the whole package that was meant for you to soley open and enjoy. You did love him.. At least you used to when you dated in high-school.

If it wasn't for that brutal wake up call from April, you would've stayed. You know you would've. Marco would always spoil you, buying you gifts, practically throwing money at you whenever he got the chance! Who wouldn't want to stay? You wouldn't be loved like that ever again.. Well of no duh. No other person would kidnap you, drug you, man handle you and threaten to beat a poor innocent person's head into a pulp because you looked at them 'the wrong way'. No other person will ever love you so horribly as Marco.

Your first year as a normal citizen was scary. You hadn't been dependent in a while, nor worked in forever ever since Marco fired you from the company to be his stay at home spouse. But luckily you weren't alone. You had April, Marco's older brother's husband. You both had a lot in common, such as escaping crazy men. Man, what a small world! During your first year, you laid low, staying at a hotel and taking unoffical jobs such as dog walking, baby sitting, tutoring, and whatever job that allowed an extremely fluid schedule. It didn't pay a lot, and it was hard even when the two of you combined your money together. But it was worth it. Better to have freedom working your ass off than in that spacious clusterphonic house.

The two of you survived on nothing but Mama instant noodles with eggs and spinach. For the time you were staying in that hotel, the only thing you had in that small fridge was a carton of eggs, bottles of water, and a container of spinach. That was it. God it almost reminded you of college..

It would take another year until you were safe to be a bit more lenient, you could only imagine what Marco was doing..

You put the noodles inside the spoon that has a bit of broth in it. Grabbing a bit of everything- spinach, egg, noodle, and broth- into one spoon, you savour that perfect taste. Eating, you look at April who ate alongside you. "So, brother in law.. Uh.. What's up?" He looked at you, giving you a 'really?' Look. "Good. What about you, my ex husband's brother's spouse?" "Oh my god don't-" you both laughed, enjoying each others solitude. It was weird, you hadn't had normal people food in a while. For years when you were with Marco, he always made sure to give you the best of the best. Oysters, lobster, freshly baked meals and everything! But eating something low key and unhealthy was something you never thought you'd miss.

"So, uh.. If you don't mind me asking. How did you manage to.. Y'know?" You asked, hinting at the question. "Oh..Uh, I was able to get help from someone.. I got someone who looked exactly like me, slit the wrists and left them in the bathroom.. Annd yeah. They were already dead by the way, I just wanna make that clear" you stare at him for a moment, your lips thinning."Damn I just left a note saying I killed myself and fuck you" it was his turn to stare at you impressed as you casually responded. "Damn, thats it?" "That's it" he laughed. "And here I was doing all that oceans 11 shit" you laughed, and then you stopped to think. "Hey uh.. You know he'll check the body right? And the system will say it's someone else right?" He took a moment to think, and slowly he started to worry. "Oh god you're right.." "Goddamn it! Really?!" "Hey if I did what you'd done, I mean both of us going missing at the same time with no trace- I think they would've came to their own conclusions either way!" You were about to snap at him, you were almost angry until you took his words into account. He was right. Either way faking your deaths successfully was beyond convincing, you knew that. Frustrated and stressed, you put a hand on your head. "That means for the next few months they'll be searching.."

You both sit in silence for a while, full of stress with your empty bowls.

"Shit"

"Fuck"

.

.

[desos-records]

[Spoilers for the Creeping Shadow]

"I missed you so much, Lucy."

I'm never going to get over this line. I'm losing my mind. Let's overanalyze the shit out of this.

The fact he says it right before they're about to run headlong into suicidal danger, it makes you realize that Lockwood needs Lucy there to ground him. He figures that the recklessness is okay if she's there to direct it, if it's reckless to be protective, not just for its own sake. And he missed this, missed how well they work together, how much she trusts him, how well she understands him. He missed having someone to fight for.

But more than that, he's just asked her to do something insane and she goes along with it because she's Lucy and he has never known her to back down from a fight. George and Holly and literally anyone else would've called him insane and insisted on doing things a different way, but she doesn't. They are so much alike in that way, just reckless and daring enough to win. Especially when they work together.

His love for her is practically bleeding out of him. He compliments her constantly, physically and emotionally protects her whenever possible. There's also his obvious discomfort whenever it's even remotely hinted that Holly might be replacing her in any way, shape, or form--the boy starts talking about orange juice of all things to get away from the topic of Holly staying over at Portland Row. He jumps at any excuse to bring her back into his life while also managing to respect her decision to hold herself separate from the agency.

The only reason Lucy doesn't connect the dots about all the attention Lockwood pays her is her own particular brand of oblivious insecurity. It's also the fact that Lockwood rarely says anything outright. He talks a lot, but true vulnerability is rare. I think short of an 'I love you' Lucy probably wouldn't realize. She's a Listener, she needs to hear it to believe it. And you see that in her reactions to the instances when he compliments her, when he's open and honest with her, when he says he missed her.

Lockwood, meanwhile, doesn't track Lucy's feelings for him either. Although Lucy leaves to protect him, all he sees is Lucy stepping out of his life (was it because of Holly? because he pushed her too far about her Talent? did she just get sick of him finally?). She doesn't necessarily show that she cares about him in anyway he recognizes, outside of how well she understands him, how well they work together. As repressed as Lockwood is, Lucy is terribly reserved, paying compliments or words of affection sparingly and only when she really means it. Short of a flat-out kiss, I'm not sure Lockwood would realize her feelings either. Lockwood has Sight, he's a liar and a charlatan, he needs to see something to truly believe it.

So he says, "I missed you" and fights off a dozen relic-men for her and he hopes it's enough.

[blingblong55]

Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)

Based on a request:

Look, as much as I love Philip Graves, he gives off jackass bitch energy. So, he leads on the reader (who's just fuckin adorable, wife energy, protect this one for the rest of your life vibes) before leaving them after a one night stand and then they meet again years later and reader changed into a badass boss bitch dommy mommy you'd wanna tap but she's fucking hostile af. Also dating Rudy, cuz Rudy's the only man who deserves to score a pre-Graves reader. Idk, im in my "fuck me up and you're next" era

A/N: Someone said I should use the lyrics of Sweet nothing, so...here it goes

F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader

I find myself running home to your sweet nothings Outside, they're push and shoving You're in the kitchen humming

7 years ago, a few of your comrades and you had a huge victory. You all went to celebrate out by a local pub. It was fun, the drinks, the stories, laughs, the stupid songs you'd all sing, and then the stupid mistake of letting Graves take you home. You had a crush on him before, how when he smiles he would do so to the side. The way his hair was always well groomed and how his cologne never changed. You noticed his American southern accent, getting rougher when he was drunk like this. The way his hands wandering your thighs or back. So for you it was a dream to even have him offer himself to you.

If you can describe yourself from 7 years ago, you'd call her "sweet, innocent, caring, bubbly, and loving", and all that is true, well was true. The night with Philip was great, the way he assured you all night in bed that he'd take care of you. How his lips met yours, how he kissed you with so much delicateness it felt beautiful. "al'right, sweet thing, just close your eyes and rest now." Your head rested on his chest, his hand drawing small circles on your back. You felt content in his arms.

By morning, instead of waking up to him by your side, it was just you. A note and nothing else.

"That was fun, but just a one time thing:) -take care, Philip Graves"

You never knew it'd be just a one night stand with him, you'd expect more. Back then, you were only a 22 year old, still learning and understanding much of the military. You trusted him with your body that night, a innocent girl, not knowing she'd be robbed from something she held dear to her, her own young heart on a platter, eaten by the man Philip was.

By some miracle, a commander in Mexico had seen your work for Shadow company. Alejandro Vargas, a major at the time of him recruiting you and his friend, Rodolfo "Rudy" Parra, a captain at the time. Graves let you go, knowing that you'd ask for more and he was not wiling to give. In all honesty, after you left, he talked about his time with you, made fun of you the weeks after it had happened.

After that night with Philip and how he belittled you, even if he didn't know, you promised you'd never let that happen to you. All the men that approached you were quickly turned down. You only gave time to your job, training and to yourself. You treated men like the scum of the earth.

Belittled them if they ever spoke about you. "I'd shut it, because you are nothing more than a worthless, good for nothing piece of ass." All men at some point feared you, not making advances on you, except for one.

Rudy, although rejected by you more than 19 times, always came back. He never cared if you degraded him with your lemon filled words. He loved you for it, loved how you never spoke bad of yourself, standing tall and proud. Alejandro tried to tell him to stop pursuing you, but he is stubborn as he is cute.

With him, you were always more soft. Although at times you'd say mean things to him, you were never too mean. Because in him, you found your old self coming back. Begging to be let out, because all you wanted to do was cuddle with him, listen to his problems, kiss him, adore his very soul.

And to be honest, he worshipped the ground you walk on. He didn't care that he was a higher rank than you, no, he always said. "Yes ma'am", "No, ma'am", "Sorry ma'am", "You look beautiful/perfect, ma'am". In his eyes, you deserved all the shiniest of things this world could offer.

He loved how you would yell at rookies, but the second you saw a puppy, you'd turn all soft and would pet it for a long time. How one time he saw you baking and dancing to a melody in your head. Your puppy eyes when you would see a something adorable.

One night, there you were, ready to hop on your motorcycle when he approached. "R/N, uhm...do you mind if maybe this Sunday me and you can maybe....I dunno, go on a date?"

You see, the reason why he asked you on a Sunday and not on a Friday or Saturday was because he heard you sing a song to yourself.

"I want a Sunday kind of love, A love to last past Saturday night, And I'd like to know it's more than love at first sight, And I want a Sunday kind of love" Your voice soft like a whisper.

"Sunday...time?"

His face lit up, in a way for him, this was you agreeing, "6 am, ma'am." he happily responded. You were confused, why would he want a date on a Sunday at 6 in the goddamn morning?

"I was thinking breakfast by the lakes...maybe you'd like that," he answered as if he was listening to your thoughts, he paused and looked at you, "Or whatever time, all I want is to spend time with you."

A light red hue on your cheeks, there it was. The old you, feeling excited because for the first time in years, you were validated as more than just a 'one time thing', seen by him for you. You nod, "very well-"

"I'll pick you up?"

"I don't see why not."

You put her helmet on, going for the typical night ride. Funny enough, he was the guy who would race you any chance he got. You of course never knew, but he did. Wanted to spend time with you in whatever way he could, so, he learned from Alejandro how to ride one.

During the date, he was so nervous, he completely forgot his Spanish and English. Giggled as he tried to compose himself for you, you took his hand, "Just one work at a time, I promise to listen." the way you said it and carried it, was a different side of you, the old you.

"Eres hermosa, la mas bella." he cups your face, looks you in the eyes and smiles. You'd learn Spanish for him after months of dating, but in this moment, when you barely spoke the language, you understood the meaning. Skin melted on his hands, turning into mush, he leaned in, kissed your forehead and then looked you in the eyes.

"Thank you, for giving me this chance."

Soon after that, you went on more dates, Sunday dates. Always by the lake, eating, laughing and at times, he'd chase you into the water. Both laughing, being the sweetest of creatures.

6 years after that first date, you and him celebrated your engagement, Alejandro being asked to be the best man. While everyone had seen your cold hearted side, he saw you, the woman he'd be waiting for at the end of the isle. His favourite melody, the girl who made him soup, stayed up all night understanding the video game he was enraged by, taking classes to speak to your in-laws in their language. Wearing that sundress and although you weren't religious, attended church with his mum, grandma and him.

4 months after he had proposed to you, thats when you met 141 and Shadow Company. Graves introduced himself, once he spotted you in the room, he stopped, "-any...ways, it's a pleasure to meet y'all." He nodded to himself and walked to where you were. Alejandro ran through the plan.

"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"

You raised a finger to him, "I don't let dogs speak to me." Rudy heard it, chuckled to himself. He was happy, a part of him was always protective of you, wanted to be selfish and have you to him. So knowing you were still like this with other men made him glad. Now that he was on the good side of your actions, he didn't know if you still spoke like that to other men.

Graves was....mad...? He noticed how you changed, how you looked healthier, happier and that stupid fucking diamond ring. He did love how much your body had changed, how your curves become more prominent, your hair longer, the same body he was once all over was...sexier, appealed to his needs for sure.

And then after the meeting, he saw you hand in hand with Rudy. Your cold gaze now soft, you blushing and admiring your boyfriend. Rudy kisses your cheek which caused you to look away blushing. Although you were dating him, it was as if you were a school girl, crushing on a celebrity, gushing over him.

Rudy was always the one, that was clearly known. Graves will now forever hold his peace, as the girl that treated him with love and respect was now with another. You'd be the bride and he would never be the groom who gets to call you his.

His lost was and is clear to be Rudy's gain.

Industry disruptors and soul deconstructors And smooth-talking hucksters out glad-handing each other And the voices that implore, "You should be doing more" To you, I can admit that I'm just too soft for all of it

Tags: @anonymuslydumb

A/N: checking my inbox and I just realised I have request from back in may....sorry...I'll get to those, I promise

[diejager]

On monster Au how did human reader meet Vampire Graves and the shadow?? 🤔

I’m guessing you mean the one from Turned? Since Only Human happens after the MW2 campaign.

You met them a few weeks after being contracted into TF-141, signing NDAs after NDAs before actually signing your contract. Laswell and Price were clear on the fact that end thing that went on during missions were to stay confidential —classified, especially with the TF being comprised of hybrids, some from UK, an American, a Russian and a ULF commander.

You knew they heads were General Shepherd and CIA station chief Kate Laswell, with missions spearheaded by Captain John Price, a dragon hybrid, and Lieutenant Riley, the wraith, as the second in command. They’re an extremely decorated TF, with a reputation to back up their decisions and badges. You were another sergeant, human in genetics and appearance, with little to talk about apart from your experience in silent infiltration, trained in hand-to-hand combat with a knife than utilizing a gun. You were taught to fight dirty, using what you could to win, a knife, a broken bottle or the sharp end of a broken plank, you were a stealthy killer, an assassin of sorts.

You’ve only heard of Shadow Company, word of mouth to ear with good things about them, how powerful and tight knit the PMC was. You weren’t surprised to hear that they worked closely with 141 and its allies, but you were surprised that they shared banter and seemed on a good foot. Especially Graves, the vampire and master of all his thralls, who started most conversation with a quick quip or smug remark.

It even shocked you how friendly he was towards you, standing close with a hand on your shoulder, his rugged face smiling down at your, confident and comforting. His grin was teasing, flashing his fangs so openly around you. He’d throw a few taunts hidden under praises: “Look at the pretty neck, soft skin and perfect. Bet you’re sweet, ain’t ya, sweetheart?”

Graves was also brutally honest, speaking his mind about decisions and choices made by others and even criticizing his men when they messed up. He controlled them, mind and body, reborn from his blood and remade in his expectations, but they worked in perfect rhythm, working as if they were one cell.

So, when their leader made a move on you, the rest did, often sitting beside you, keeping a hand on you, hungry for any physical touch or a whiff of your blood, the smell of your ichor that exhumed from your uncovered skin: your neck and your wrists. They would flash their fangs, gleaming under the white light of the mess hall, a threat that kept your surrounded and trapped between them.

Although they were friendly whenever you worked with Shadow Company, the constant attention and hungry, red eyes had made you somewhat uncomfortable, so much so that the rest of the TF cued in on it. Soap would stick to your side, hackles raised and eyes narrowed when some Shadows would approach you, being too handsy with you. If you weren’t with Soap, Gaz would bring you to his side with a wing, stretched behind to cover you in a protective shield to deter the thralls. The true deterrent was Ghost, looming behind you in his dark glory, growling and glaring at anyone who approached you without even touching you or standing too close. Price worked well, they wouldn’t bother the captain because they feared fire, because an angry dragon was a slow and painful death.

But that never stopped Graves from approaching you, tongue running over his lower lip and over the sharpness of his fang, red eyes gleaming brightly and looking handsome with his sun-kissed skin, blonde hair and southern accent, the sexy drawl of his words.

“Be a doll and c’m’here, won’t you?”

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[witchthewriter]

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

⤷ female, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

Warnings: knife flirting, a bit nsfw but not much

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Neutral Good or Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

・I'm going to be completely honest. He hated the thought of you going into battle, or going near any sort of danger.

・He was your protector, he was the one to make sure you were okay, that you were safe.

・But you wanted to be able to keep yourself safe, as well as anyone else that needed your help

・Uhtred was enamored by you; not only did you have the attitude of a warrior, but you could pull almost anything off.

"If you don't marry her Leofric, I definitely will."

・That earned a slap on the back of the head to the Dane/Saxon

・But that did bring on a whole lot of insecurities for Leofric. He definitely thought he wasn't good enough for you. That he wasn't good looking enough. Didn't have the right social standing for you.

・For a long time you thought he didn't like you

・However, you were used to it, with being a warrior woman

・Men felt emasculated by you. Even by looking at you. You didn't wear skirts.

・This, this, this , this and this were/are your daily attire. Depending on your day and what is going on etc.

・Leofric is a very sweet man. Well, he is to you. There's nothing he will deny you.

・Honestly, this man goes along with whatever you say (mostly to keep you out of trouble).

・He smiles a lot more when he's around you. Uhtred brought it up once; it was that moment that Leofric realised he was truly in love with you.

・Uhtred is your best friend. You bicker with each other every time you're together.

・Leofric kept himself from you for a long time because he thought you were with Uhtred. That you were 'his woman.'

・When you heard that you choked on your ale.

"The hell I am! I'd rather pluck out my eye balls then be his woman."

・You knew Uhtred's arrogance, and saw him like a brother. A purely platonic relationship.

・When Leofric found out that you liked him. He instantly denied it.

"No, no, she doesn't feel that way. No."

・Uhtred was like cupid trying to get you two together

・And when he was successful; Leofric and you, became inseparable. Whenever you were pulled away to do your duties, it felt like a piece of you was missing.

・When Leofric didn't have you in his company, he felt lost. He felt sad. You were the light in his life. The only thing he truly cared about.

・Some people rose their eyebrows at you; some even going as far to say something. But you both shut that shit down immediately.

・Just a girl and her bodyguard.

・A woman and her large shadow.

・Leofric wanted to marry you as soon as possible. To tie himself to you in the eyes of his Lord and country.

・He wanted everyone to know you two were together.

・The proposal was very sweet, romantic - just the two of you.

・The ring was his mother's, nothing too flashy. But an heirloom all the same.

・You jumped into his arms before he even finished his sentence.

"Yes! Yes you fool! Of course I'll marry you-"

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

"Think they'll try us?" (You) x "Fuck I hope so." (Leofric)

"What did I do?" (You) x "Today or in general? Either way it's bad." (Leofric)

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

He Doesn't Think He's Good Enough For Her

Sacrifice and Devotion

Challenging Social Conventions

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Too Sweet by Hozier

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞

・Leofric has had some ... experience in this area. He's a man, in his thirties - so of course he has.

・The first time you two had sex together was very rushed. It didn't start off that way though.

・The kiss had started off slow and steady.

・The second you pulled back, thinking it was a mistake, he pulled you back in. A hand on the back of your head and the other gripping the back of your shirt.

・Making sure you were completely pressed against him. Reminding himself that you were in his arms. That you felt the same way.

・Normal sex with Leofric is slow and sensual. He likes to take his time with foreplay; touching you everywhere he can. Sucking on your neck, massaging your breasts, sucking, flicking and biting on your nipples

・He doesn't want you to be quiet, Leofric wants to hear you moan. He needs to hear it.

・The thing that has become an obsession in his mind is the thought of fucking you. Making love to you. Eating you out. Ploughing into you for hours, making you a sweaty mess.

"You had enough? Aye?" He'd say in between thrusts. Making you mewl beneath him. Grabbing whatever you could to ground yourself.

"Mmmm," was all you could come out with. The ability to talk had been fucked out of you long ago.

He chuckled, low and gutteral, "one more round love, you can go one more round."

[scoutswritingcorner]

Asthma is a distinguished gentleman(not really he's a cannibal) and I wanna see Asthma In a top hat- and a mustash.

Or funny enough him in w bowling ally- not like a Bowling ball but I mean those pin things you knock over I want Asthma in it

Facial Hair Headcanons

Hazbin Men x GN! Reader

TW:None??

A/N: LISTEN I KNOW YOU JUST SAID ALASTOR BUT NOW YOU’VE GOT ME THINKING AND THATS DANGEROUS. Also it’s giving gender envy so let me have this as I can’t have facial hair rn. Also Alastor’s could be seen as platonic or romantic. Platonic with Angel Dust

-🦌Alastor🦌-

-🦌 Now I really don’t see him having a lot of facial hair, he either cuts it all off or on the off chance he does leave it to grow out, he’s gonna have a handlebar mustache with stubble around or just the mustache itself.

-🦌 If he catches you staring at it he’s either gonna disappear to shave it off or puff his chest out with pride. Please tell him if you like it, your opinion is the only opinion that matters to him (besides his own but that goes unsaid)

-🦌 He won’t let anything else grow out as in 1920’s to 1930’s small mustaches were the thing back then. Either the handlebar mustache or the English mustache.

-🦌 His facial hair is going to be a black/darkish brown as his hair. He pairs it with a good suit and god be damned he’s got everyone taking a second glance at him. 

-🦌 The stubble or 5 o’clock shadow makes him more iffy, he likes it but he also likes everything about him to be cleaned up nicely. To him it looks gross and he will definitely shave that off, unless you say something to him. Then he might keep it just to annoy you with it.

-🦌 I’m talking about like, rubbing his cheek to your cheek to make you feel the hairs and it always make you laugh. He tries and fails on annoying you but he always wins cause he gets to see you smile and hear you laugh.

-🦆Lucifer 🦆-

-🦆 I know canonically he doesn’t have facial hair but let me dream damn it.

-🦆 To me Lucifer either has a full on beard to no beard at all. There is a small inbetween, which is a goatee. He will be hellbent on having a goatee if he’s not wanting to have a full beard.

-🦆 This man has a rigorous routine of beard upkeep. He’s not playing when it comes to himself. He may have depression but to him self care is very important and it’s okay to have bad days and ask for help. 

-🦆 For his full beard? It’s either a Ducktail beard or a Hollywoodian style beard. He loves to run his fingers through it and feel all powerful (despite him being the Literal king of hell).

-🦆 Another man who asks your opinion on if he should keep the beard or go to his normal goatee or no beard at all, he’s not picky.

-🦆 You compliment him or say something about his beard (could be sexual or not) his cheeks go bright red and he gets super flustered but his chest puffs out proudly.

-🦆 Like the rest of his hair, it’s blonde but there is a more noticeable white streak if he has the beard. Don’t point it out please, he gets upset. He’s not old, he’s in his prime. (GOD IM SWOONING A WELL GROOMED BEARD GETS ME-)

-🎰 Husk 🎰-

-🎰 Husk our favorite bartender and our grumpy loveable cat. Before anyone can say anything, hush. I know he’s all fur and a cat but let me have this okay?

-🎰He’s grumpy and I’ll be honest, he just looks like a guy that let’s his facial hair grow out all the time.

-🎰 I do see him having the Balbo facial hairstyle or the imperial mustache. The only way you can differentiate it is by the longer fur on his snout and chin. 

-🎰 Once again, it’s mainly white with some black hair in it to deal with the pattern of his fur. Once again, the only beard care he does is trimming and brushing it at best.

-🎰 He loves kissing you as it’s only other ways you can tell if he’s growing his facial hair out, the little hairs just brushing against your chin and lips. But he saves that for private moments.

-🕷️Angel Dust 🩷- 

-🕷️  Now this one will be short but I don’t see Angel really like having a lot of facial hair. THE SAME THING WITH HUSK I KNOW HE IS FUR BUT PLEASE LET ME HAVE THIS-

-🩷 He will only allow stubble and only for a little bit before he shaves it off completely. So get used to it.

-🕷️ Baby boy can’t have any due to his line of work and also he doesn’t like how it feels.

-🩷It ruins his whole night time/facial routine and if he can’t shave that morning or night, he’s gonna be grumpy all day.

-🕷️ If he does let it grow out, it’s gonna be white but with specks of pink in there. It’s more prominent on his jawline and chin but if you look real close you can see more on his upper lip it’s just very hard to see.

[thesamoanqueen]

Blackwater XVII

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: drama, street fights, violence, smut.

A/N: I'm on time and with a long chapter, more drama than usual and a touch of smut that always serves as moral support, just saying

Sitting at one of the tables of the empty fancy restaurant where their meeting had taken place, Y/N had seen them leave as they had arrived, with their business suits, documents and a couple of nods instead of shaking hands. Roman didn't like those people, she felt it and she didn't like them either to be honest. She had stayed on the sidelines watching them talk from the terrace overlooking the bay, with a glass of rosé that she hadn't drunk, away, so that they wouldn't pay attention to her, she hadn't heard, but she had seen enough. They had used the border moved to the south as an excuse, of course, but she had grown up learning to see beyond lies, sensing intentions behind the façade of good men. The border was the beginning, everything else was what they were aiming for, they were laying foundations to bring him down and they would have done so, at the slightest sign of failure.

Vultures.

Something inside her stomach had turned, she felt nausea in her mouth and the pure instinct to drag him away from there, immediately, far away from those political speeches full of respect, home maybe, in their reserve, safe from everything and everyone. Her she-wolf would have done it, but Y/N stood seated, letting Paul handle that circus of leeches and ties, only gifting one of those men an heavy look when he seemed to notice her for a moment. She stood there, observing as Roman had also done, without scenes that could put his alpha role in more problems, until everything was over and he had joined her again.

She had read annoyance and tension on his face, felt the stress through their bond and her hand had left the glass, keeping him anchored to her for a moment, face pressed into his beard, while he breathed in her scent covering her body with his own shadow.

- Wait for me here a little longer, I'll be right back and we'll leave – he whispered in her ear, leaving a kiss on her forehead and making her smile.

When he pulled away from her he seemed less rigid, but it lasted just long enough for his brown eyes to look back inside. Paul stood with the phone in his hand in the dim light of the restaurant and the same happened to her smile. She saw both of them disappear this time, quickly, into one of the private rooms and she went back to the glass, drinking finally the rosé to get rid of the bitterness in her mouth.

She didn't want to get carried away by suspicions or give free rein to her she-wolf and mood swings, but she really had the impression that that whole thing was getting worse hour after hour. Meetings, phone calls, even that apparent calm over the whole city and around them, as if everything would implode at any moment, an endless series of red flags in front of her. It was bad, the kind of atmosphere that awakened her instincts and told her to move away. Instinct had helped Y/N more times than necessary growing up alone, always on the road, but now it wasn't the right time. She had something to support, home, family, and the time she spent watching those false good men claim at their expense had made Y/N realize what her priority really was.

After refilling her glass she let out a heavy breath, mind racing, eyes focused on the sparkling wine with its little bubbles popping one after the other as was happening to everything around her. A distant noise reached her while she was still there alone and her gaze moved from the table to the stairs leading back to the parking lot.

Down there, her inner wolf warned, as more noises were added and Y/N put the glass down.

She was absolutely certain that those men had left, wind coming from the bay was already cleaning the smell of their aftershave and ironed suits, but there was someone else besides Solo down there and as soon as Y/N understood, she immediately stood up, leaving the terrace once and for all.

- Uce, we're not here for you, Solo! Calm down! – she heard more clearly, as she went down, another thump like a body slamming and only when she reached the short driveway next to the parking lot she saw them.

Jey had ended up against a car parked in front of a service door, Solo pressed against him in an attempt to attack him, Jimmy holding his torso by the shoulders to prevent who knows what.

She hadn't seen them for too long and despite everything, she looked them from head to toe trying to know if they were okay, if there were marks or cuts on them too as on Roman. None of them immediately noticed that she was there, keeping to fight from side to side, until Solo smashed his fist into the bodywork of another car and they both took opportunity to slam him into the car, trying to put space and breath.

- How much longer do yall have?! Is there a second round or what huh? – she called them before they started again, sounding like a mother scolding her kids and all three of their heads lifted up, looking with big eyes.

She saw Solo straighten up, move in her direction to anticipate something that would never happen, but her eyes didn't stay on him too long, quickly landing on Jimmy who already had one hand in the air.

- Y/N listen- he started and finished.

- I'm listening, bet it and I'm hearing you guys fighting like it's your backyard.

Whatever they had in mind was bullshit. They were grown ass men, brothers who should have been thinking and instead they were arguing in a restaurant’s parking lot acting like rabid puppies in the mud, it was ridiculous, stupid and shameful. Their family had enough problems to deal with, serious problems and they were there, bickering and making things worse, wallowing in an argument that shouldn't have even existed and they started with "listen" as if she was the one making a scene, oh, she had heard and seen enough already!

- Please Y/N – Jey stepped forward, his jacket twist, the face of someone who needed a real break.

He wasn't hurt, he had no visible signs, but he still looked worse than his two brothers and seeing him in that state made her frown. They shouldn't have been at that point.

- Please what?

- Stay out of this, we didn't come for yo either… we here for him, no one is coming for yall, you have nothing to do with this.

Him.

No way.

They wanted him. They had come there for him. She had to stay out of it.

She gritted her teeth, stifling the menacing growl that had risen in her throat, hands tingling at the memory of his blood, in their home, chest suddenly heavy.

They kept repeating it, they didn’t want her around when she was already there. They had told her that they were all a big family, they had treated her as part of their family and after she believed them she was no longer accepted, now she had to step aside, stand, watch and what then? She hadn't asked to be Roman's mate, she had never even looked for him in her whole life, but she actually was, now they were together and she didn't want to step aside anymore, she didn't want to lose anything anymore, she didn't want to lose him and that request, after being dropped in out of the blue, didn't sound good.

- You won't see anyone like this - she stated deadly serious and Jey immediately became nervous, turning in circles to control his mood, while Solo clenched his fists, aiming at him as if he was an enemy who had to be defeated.

Y/N saw Jimmy trying to reach out to stop him, hold him back, but he wriggled away without a second thought, heavy eyes, pacing along an imaginary line like a caged animal.

- Y/N we have nothing against you. We have to see him, he has to listen to me now, him, not you. You have nothing to do with it, you’re out of this mess, I need you to stay out of this, we care about you - he was flustered, conflicted, he was physically struggling to control himself, was clear and she didn't like that attitude at all.

- For real Y/N listen, stay here, both you and Solo, we'll explain everything as soon as- Jimmy tried in his place, taking a step in her direction unlike him and Y/N glared at him.

- I'll explain something to you two, because it's obviously not clear in your minds. Don't tell me where I should stay or what I should do, don't dare you – she warned, hearing Solo blow a threat from his nose.

- Y/N please, you have nothing to do with this shit, she doesn't have anything to do with it, not like this Uce, she shouldn't be here – Jey kept babbling, also taking it out on Jimmy, when he seemed to give up on every attempt to convince her to let them do it for the umpteenth time.

Exasperated, she approached them in the parking lot with every intention of personally putting them back in line, while they were ranting about who knows what among themselves.

- I have nothing to do with it? I've been trying to help y’all hot heads solve this stupid thing from the beginning.

- There's nothing stupid Y/N! – Jey snapped though, as if that single comment was enough to flip his switch and Y/N froze – it's not nonsense anymore, not since he decided to take it to these levels! We're trying to do what he didn't do, I don't want you to end up in this shit like my boys, you have nothing to do with it, that's not how they raised us! Step aside, I'm begging you! – he blurted out, leaning forward as if he had been punch in his stomach, looking straight at her for the first time even though his brother kept whispering in his ears that he had to let it go.

She stared at him in silence, taken aback by the way he was begging her, by the pain she felt on him and something inside her clenched in empathy. Jey was a hothead, but that reaction was too much even for him. She had the sudden feeling that they were fighting an enemy she couldn't see, something she didn't yet understand, but she had no time to ask or speak when Roman's aura hit them from not far away. A couple of seconds of panic, confusion and then rage, uncontrolled, furious behind her.

- Stay the hell away from her! Move, now! – his growl, mad, deep, seemed to echo throughout the entire place and Y/N turned just in time to see him storm down from the stairs, marching against Jey.

She saw his eyes change even though he was still in his human body, teeth menacing, veins popping out as he passed her, and the air around him thick, heavy. Even once there he didn't slow down and she instinctively reached out, trying to hold him, keep him close but it was useless and Y/N saw him pass her without half a glance, reach that invisible line and pass over it, to go straight to Jey’s face.

- We were not touching her, no one was hurting her, we would never do that, she’s family – Jey quickly assured, shaking his head as if Roman's presence had crept inside, threatening to make it explode.

Something in him had triggered just by seeing him, another kind of tension and despite everything Y/N watched him look away, avoid staring at her again, stagger along that line on which Roman had positioned himself with authority, suffocating his frustration to show that he hadn't had no bad intentions against her. Neither him nor Jimmy would ever lay a finger on her, she was certain of it even if moods had heated up, but Roman didn't seem so and it was pretty clear from the way he had curled his mouth.

- And I should believe it? Believe you? - he growled again, looking at him from the few inches that separated them with disgust - I had your word that you would watch my back, I trusted you and look how it ended. Again. I give you another chance and you repay me like this Jey? Wasn't enough for you the first time?

She had only heard stories of that first time, confused, among other conversations, ended quickly so as not to have to keep the door of memories open for too long. It was something that no one in the family liked to talk about, a kind of trauma from which you cannot heal and she didn't need details to understand that it had been more serious and indelible than they pretended, she just had to look at them now, facing each other as if they were ready for war. She had never asked questions, she hadn't tried, but she knew. Whatever had happened back then, it hadn't been resolved, not completely, for any of them even though they had pretended it was that way for years and when Jimmy stepped forward, Y/N realized there was no room to pretend anymore.

- It was not him who kicked you in that face, it was me and I would do it again now after what you did.

He's not Jey. Stop them. He'll hurt him.

- Now you running your mouth?! – an ironic laugh to humiliate him - bullshit must have burned even that little brain you had, I didn't start it and I'm not doing anything even now – and annoyance erasing it, to make him serious again and push Jey to straighten up, quick, to keep them separate.

- You throw the boys in, they had nothing to do with it. Let em out of this story, was just between us, they love you, we love you too Uce, it shouldn't have ended like this! Why you like this?! There was no need!

Frozen watching them go against each other, she frowned, speechless as she felt the two boys of Jey being pulled into the mix until Solo took her attention, walking to go and support Roman as his brothers were doing for each other.

They will throw hands. We're a pack. They dont have to.

- So is on me?! Am I the fall of our family, of yours Jey?! Is this what you want to tell yourself so you can step forward and get a chance to the top again, lil Jey?! Because I'm going easy on you. It was not me who lost the pack's land to those strays, it was not me who attacked at the border! Who made this mess? Who attacked first? Who's splitting their family in two because it's no longer enough where he's been keeping his ass all this time?! Talk! I asked you a question! – Roman's voice seemed to echo in her head, his rage, his anger growing uncontrolled and that dangerous, suffocating aura as he insisted on targeting Jey.

He wanted to break him, he wanted to make him give up, she felt it, he was pushing more and more even though Jey was shaking his head with hurted, body going back and forth in a neurotic tic, trying to avoid exploding and Jimmy put himself in front of his brother again, shielding him, raising his head without even a hint of the usual smile.

- You really like turning things around, don't you?! It's become a habit, but you can turn them around as much as you like, in the end the only one who’s destroying the family here is you - she heard him accuse heavily, sending back the same disgusted look and Roman twisted his mouth, offended, furious - you and those dumb ideas you keep in your head thanks to his games – he pointed and Y/N didn't need to turn around to understand who he was referring to, someone who preached those words every hour of every day – you demand respect and treat us like dogs, you say we are your blood and you don't even allow us to be near you, you want everyone to hang on your mouth like bitches and you don't listen to anyone. You're out of control and someone needs to stop you, once and for all dawg, we're not the problem!

He's not the problem. He’s not like that. They’re lying.

Jimmy's words rang in her head, an old memory of the days, months, when she had arrived there. The person he was talking about wasn't the one Y/N knew, it wasn't Roman, it was what she had tried to run from, who the world saw when Roman had that necklace on and a deal had to be solved at any cost, it wasn't the family man to whom she had grown fond. She knew it, they should too. They had grown up together, they knew him, they were like brothers.

A laugh, another, a bitter one and a hand scratching his dark beard in a nervous gesture through which she clearly read, that pearly, perfect smile, which clashed terribly with the situation they were in. She saw him turn, roll his shoulders and point at them, addressing her, after having ignored her until then to seek support in front of those accusations.

- What did I tell you?! I knew it, I knew it would happen, that they would justify themselves - he said, recalling the conversation they had had in the suv on the way there - they put everyone on risk attacking me, everything I have built for the bloodline, but they are the ones who want better for the family and I'm the monster!

Without him there probably it wouldn't have been any Bloodline territory, they wouldn't have had the lives they had, the possibilities and doors he had opened up, without him at the head of the pack none of them would have been the same person she had known. Others would have occupied his role, others would have taken advantage of what he claimed as a birthright for himself and his family, they would have arrived like hungry strays, destroying and building a world in which perhaps people would have continued to see them as savages, others ideals. Y/N knew he was right, that by putting him at risk everything would have collapsed, because she had seen everything in those men faces in that same place as soon as they smelled a crack and she had seen in the past her family destroyed after another crack.

And despite everything she couldn't conceive that Jey and Jimmy could risk so much for selfishness, for an argument, those accusations, all that mud...

- You're the one dragging everyone into your shit! You're the one putting us in danger! Solo was out of the loop until a while ago and what happened? You made so many people hate yo ass that they sent him to help and you've been taking advantage of him ever since! – Jimmy persisted, forcing him to turn around again, to glance at Solo who was next to him – and he’ll continue to do so Uce, until you stop being useful to him too and he finds someone else to manipulate!

He cannot be serious…

Y/N saw Solo eyes go from his brother to Roman, silently and if only for a moment, she was not the only one to see it, because Roman grew tenser, his face darker as he aimed at Jimmy this time, clenched fists.

- Solo knows his role, he knows what's best for everyone, unlike you two.

- Maybe your brainwashing is working for now, but you can bet we won't wait for you to drag our brother down with you! Neither him nor her – Jimmy suddenly pointed and Y/N stared at him with wide eyes, while Jey tugged at him, trying to stop him, to make him look away, pulling his arm down.

- Leave her out, no – he suddenly objected, his hands planted on his twin shoulder to push him away.

- You wanted to talk her, we'll talk to her now, right here – he said directly to him, his dark eyes never leaving her.

- Jimmy!

- Don't you dare

Jey's desperate call drowned out Roman's whisper, but everyone heard it anyway and Y/N finally managed to look away, to control, seeing him already with his head down aiming for Jimmy who showed no signs of wanting to shut up and even seemed satisfied with having found a weak point. A shiver ran down her spine as she suddenly felt the weight of their bond, his tense muscles, his will to hurt, while Paul tried to pull her away, mumbling something that she didn't listen, ears filled with the growl that came from Roman’s throat, bestial, terrifying.

He will snap. He’s not in control. He will snap.

- Where do you want me to start? – Jimmy pushed again, ignoring Jey, attracting her attention again – from us who had to improve her mood, what about the documents with your name, maybe the trial because you didn't want her to step out of your bubble or why not, from her house that you bought so she has nowhere to run away from you anymore?!

Every word hit her, taking something away from her, pushing her down towards that abyss that she thought she had left. It was like a cold shower, as if it had ripped away a part of her body that she hadn't known had and pain everywhere, one heartbeat less, an unpleasant shiver inside her bones, that fear that she had overcome present again. Her trust that trembled for a moment too long.

He’s a liar. He's lying to take him down with us. He’s lying to us.

Speechless, lost, she watched Jey tug him, push him away with a growl she didn't hear and turned to look for Roman, his expression unchanged.

He had promised to take care of her. He had given his word to her. They were mates, he would never have done those things to her. Not him, he was home. Jimmy was lying, to attack him, to hit him through her and it was so cruel, so senseless, him too was her family, her pack. Why was he saying those things if before she had been asked to stay out of it, why blame her too after all the attempts made to help him and his brother? She had the impression of witnessing everything from afar, a spectator in front of that crack that had now widened, causing everything to collapse: voices louder, Jey and Paul yelling, Solo growling with a mad face, Roman a few step away from her with that chilling expression.

- He cares about everyone the same, mate or not, we're fine as long as we do what the great tribal chief wants and when that doesn't happen it's over. He only cares about himself and what he can achieve! He just want something from you, wake u– Jimmy raged, speaking directly to her, but he barely had time to finish before a hand grabbed him.

And that sound, loud in her head like a thunder.

Who knows when in that brief moment, Roman had lashed out, slamming him down without regard, squeezing his throat, crushing his face against the bodywork of a car. The thud of his head banging made her jump, and the chaos that was escalating all around her filled her ears, along with the growl that Roman was emitting. He was out of his mind, his chest pressed against Jimmy's shoulder with all his weight, his biceps bulging as his cousin gasped with wide eyes, the other hand pinning his arm behind and teeth exposed, sharp, ready to tear him to pieces there.

- I told you to shut your mouth bitch – he ordered, his alpha tone allowing no replies even if Jimmy was incapable of even coughing at that moment.

Paul tugged her arm, trying to convince her to move, perhaps turn so as not to watch, but she was incapable of looking away, of taking her attention away from Jimmy's liquid eyes seeking help, his only free hand moving at random, feet hitting the car wheel trying to move his body, kick maybe. She could smell his rising fear in the air, a shiver down her spine seeing him suffer a little too much, panic dirtying his reactions and despite what he said, Y/N broke free from Paul hold.

- Roman- she tried to call him, but Jey beat her to do so, holding onto Roman’s arm to stop him physically.

- Let him go!

His attempt was only partially successful, forcing Roman to change his grip, holding JImmy by the head and freeing the wrist with which he had held him down. His weight still prevented him from standing up straight, but Y/N watched him recover, breath, while Roman shifted his attention to his twin, pushing Jey away with a growl and a slap in the face.

Not like that. Not Jey, he loves Jey. Dont-

- Or what? Huh Jey? What?! Will you keep complaining? Because that's all you know to do! – he yelled at him furiously, while his cousin gritted his teeth in an attempt to bear his rage.

They were poised on a fragile balance, too much for their moods at that moment, she could feel it, see it and when Roman slammed Jimmy's head against the car again to make him stop shaking, even that thin thread that was still holding them together was cut. Jey sprinted exactly as he had done to her a few minutes before, but unlike what had happened with her, he didn't just stay behind any lines, putting aside all forms of respect to smash himself into Roman's side with more force than Y/N would have guessed. Although his cousin was physically bigger, that push was enough to pull Roman off Jimmy and throw him on the ground, causing her to freeze. A breath and Jey went on top of him, hitting without waiting, forcing him to raise his arms to block the quick blows to head, neck and belly, defending himself from an attack that once again he hadn't expected.

Stop them! Stop them!

Anxiety mixed with fear hit her, rapid, sudden like Solo who in a chain reaction also sprang forward, reaching them to pull Jey away, giving Roman time to breathe. He threw him away, onto the asphalt, making his brother roll against a car, crazy eyes towards his own blood and Jimmy who had finally caught his breath, charging him with a kick in the face before allowing the younger to attack again. Y/N saw his head snap to the side, his heavy body stagger until he rested his knee on the ground and Jey, once again on his feet, overcoming him to throw himself again at Roman who this time, grabbed him by the neck, choking him with a grimaces, in pain for the fists that were hitting him again. With Paul screaming like a slaughtered pig next to her, Y/N watched them attack each other with their teeth in full view and a blind rage that would lead them to rip each other's throats sooner than they imagined. One blow and another, without stopping, without regard for the blood they shared and which now flowed through their veins like sewer water. She clenched her fists, anger mounting, her heart tight in her throat and when Roman landed against a bin, touching his head again where she had seen it open just the day before, her body moved without thinking twice.

- Stop it, all of you! Enough! – she screamed mad, standing in front of him while he still struggled to stand upright, blocking Jey not far away with a warning growl and a pointed finger.

Jimmy tried to support him anyway, his face swollen and short of breath, but his brother frowned, one arm held in front of him to once again create that invisible line he always stood on. She saw Paul recover from the shock, grab Solo, stop him, to keep him from charging again and felt Roman putting his arm around her waist in the same attempt to get her out of the way.

- I want you two to go away, now and if I see one of you near my house or here again, I'll slap you personally – she warned them, standing her ground, pushing away Roman's hand as he tried to pull her back.

She had seen and heard enough.

- Y/N… don't do it… – Jey asked once more and Roman, behind her, answered by snapping his teeth in warning.

- Go away, as far away as you two can. I won't say it again – she ordered, as serious as she had ever been and in his dark eyes Y/N saw compassion as well as a reflection of herself, for an instant, before Jey turned around deciding to put an end to it.

***

He had grown up watching his dad and uncle going around the country trying to provide for the family, side by side, sweating blood to keep the tables full and roofs over their heads. He had listened to people talk behind their backs, seen the way they looked at them and how they both still kept their backs straight, proud of their efforts and what they meant to those who followed in their footsteps. Roman had never lacked for anything, but it had certainly not been a great life before, yet as he grew up, when it was his turn, his dad had spared him nothing. He had always pushed Roman further, he had always kept him with his feet on the ground, saying that he could do better, that he needed more to provide for everyone and all the speeches made had been indelible in his mind, in the choices he made: there was always a higher level to reach, hunger was omnipresent, nothing was enough.

His dad had been a big man, now he was slow, pale, he didn't go far from his small house in the suburbs, years took their toll, and yet every time they saw each other, even though Roman had to bend down to greet him, his eyes always looked at him from high. He loved him, his efforts had been a way to honor him, but that day, as had rarely happened in the past, those eyes were too much... especially after what had happened.

- Paul said you were having a talk – he remembered, running a hand over the white goatee he had had since Roman was just a kid.

His phone call had come at a bad time and the Wiseman had been clear, it hadn't been out of courtesy. Since he stopped traveling for business they had seen each other more times than usual and the fact that he seemed to care for Y/N like a daughter and she loved spending time with him too had only favored those family reunions. But that day was different, that day he had an extra wrinkle on his forehead, one that he knew and the ulafala around his neck, the same one that he had placed on Roman when the day had arrived. He was an elder, not his dad.

- A meeting. I'm sorting things out for the border. Its under control – he assured, even if there was still work to be done, because he had every intention of doing it and putting an end to the madness that all idiots out there hoping for his fall had put into their heads.

- Control is not a word you should use – his dad warned him and Roman took a breath to calm himself, struggling to find the right words.

He was the alpha, the head of the table, he didn't have to justify his actions, but the elders were the exception, they had always had the right to the last word in their pack, in the family, it was them who chose him for the role he had and he respected them. He just had to find a way to make his father understand once again that he wasn't exaggerating, that the power he had at his disposal also meant that he had to make tough choices.

- It was necessary to- he tried, but his dad silenced him raising a trembling hand.

- There are things that must stay separate. Its law, we taught you the law’s value, to honor it. I'm sure you remember and want laws to stay the same, especially now that you too can build a family of your own and may find yourself in the position others are in now.

Our pack.

He knew the laws. And he knew the risks of being at the top. His moves were always calculated to advance their legacy and secure their future, even when it was threatened from the inside. He had been patient, he was trying even now, sitting on a ridiculous chair in the living room of his father's house discussing the family future, while a sports program lit up the tv. He knew what he had done and he knew why he had done it, it wasn't instinct that guided him, but his head: the chaos that those two idiot had caused could have destroyed them all, could have put the entire family in danger, the future him and Y/N would build together, their legacy, he had chosen what was best. What he had done to punish them had not put their families at risk, it had been a warning to get them back in line and they still hadn't understood, they had destroyed the last chance they had. It wasn't him who had forgotten, it wasn't him who had done wrong.

- Jey asked to challenge you again – his dad said in a heavy voice, interrupting the silence between them and Roman stared at him in disbelief.

Jey had asked what? When and how was it possible?!

How did he dare…

- Jey can't ask for anything, the alpha talks to the elders, he's not- he exploded, anger building rapidly and vanishing at yet another look and nod from his father.

-He has permission – he announced dryly.

The weight of the room and humidity of the evening fell on him suddenly at those words and Roman found himself staring at the carpet under the coffee table as he had done too many times as a boy when his dad scolded him for having made something wrong.

He can't, he doesn't have the right, he can't.

Only the alpha had the honor of talking to the elders, of asking them for advice or support, he was the link between past and future, the protector and guardian, it was his privilege and no one else's. He was the alpha. They had chosen him, they had approved when years before him and Jey had clashed, under the tree he had in his backyard, in front of which he had built his house, they had put the ulafala around his neck, they had recognized his efforts, the sacrifice made for the sake of their family… he had done everything to get them to where they were, he hadn't let them down… why then? Why did they listen to him? Why were they willing to reconsider him for Jey?

Confused, he met his father's gaze, the same eyes that had looked at him with admiration that day and now stared at him with disappointment and regret.

- Everyone's? – he demanded to know, already feeling his head explode.

It was his family. They couldn't all be against him. Not them too, not his father too.

- Whats happening is not tolerable, son. Get ready, I taught you better – he ended, avoiding saying anything else to go back watching the TV with an all-too-serious expression.

And Roman knew there was nothing left for him to say.

For a long moment he stand there, looking at him, his tanned skin that under the screen light had that unnatural color and all the traces that time had left. His shirt full of flowers, as if he was still on the islands where he was born, which he had told him about continuously for decades. His weak body, now used to living in that cheap armchair, to the peaceful life that Roman was guaranteeing to all of them. He loved his dad, he respected the elders, but he was wrong, they were all wrong and he would prove it to them once again.

He stood up with growing frustration, silently greeting him with a nod that received no response, leaving him there, in front of his TV with the ulafala still around his neck.

***

There was no way to change things at that point. In another moment she probably would have shifted, she would have run as far as she could, maybe in the heart of the Blackwater reserve, but giving control to her wolf would not have made her feel better and would not have erased Jimmy's accusations for her mind. After everything she had been through, all the chaos, telling her that everything around her could be a giant lie... nothing more than a trick to manipulate her, out of a thirst for control, had hurt and Y/N still couldn't find a explanation to give herself peace even after hours. Roman had warned her and she had continued to keep her guard down, hoping to be able to put a band-aid on a wound that had never stopped bleeding. She couldn't believe that Jimmy and Jey had gone to that point, yet the accusations, the looks full of hate, resentment, echoed in her mind. She didn't want to or couldn't believe it was the other way around though, not after everything her and Roman had gone through together. Jimmy had described an alpha that had been willing to do anything for the necklace placed around his neck, someone she had tenaciously rejected when she arrived there. However, Roman had proven himself to be someone else with her, he had done anything to prove it. That person wasn't the man who had taken her out every day or night for months to learn every detail of her life before him, he wasn't the one who watched over her while she slept, who showered her with unnecessary attention and listened to her every word, who couldn't take his eyes off her as if she was the most important thing in the world, who only let his guard down with her.

Something inside her had clicked watching them fight in that parking lot, something inside her had taken control. She had not been able to stand by and watch impartially, it had been a visceral, desperate, furious impulse that had brought back old memories: her mama had done the same that day, she had chosen her unknowed mate, not Y/N’s dad and her choice had changed everything forever. She would have liked to blame her wolf, the increasingly frequent mood swings, but the truth was that the human part of her had also made a choice when she saw Roman on the ground. With cold blood and without scruples Y/N had followed the bond, she had chosen his side, also turning against someone else who she really loved. Now there was no plan b, no alternative, it was really just her and him.

With a heavy breath, she gazed out the window at the suv parked in the driveway since he returned from whatever meeting he'd had after they'd split up, deciding to go look for him wherever he was out there. He hadn't set foot in the house and when Y/N finally found him, following a trail of his scent to the backyard, his gaze was glued to the huge magnolia tree visible from their bedroom, hands hidden in his pockets.

He needs us by his side. He's our mate. We are bond.

He was as if frozen and although Y/N couldn't see the expression on his face, she physically felt, inside herself, the weight of everything and the effort with which he stubbornly stood. He couldn't give in or go back, none of them really could anymore.

- It's starting to get cold… – she said, cautiously stretching out her hands and ending up wrapping her arms around him, curling up against his back – I gotchu.

Home.

She felt the calm of the Blackwater reserve descend on both of them, that sense of security that she had only felt with him after too long, the mind quieting from the chaos they were experiencing, before he decided to speak, voice hoarse.

- You did it- she heard him acknowledge, without moving.

Y/N was burdened by the choice she had taken, she had never wanted them to come to that point, she loved the twins no matter what, but she would not step aside, not even after watching what had happened when Roman had lost controll. She wasn't afraid, she wasn't afraid to get her hands dirty for a reason and she didn't regret her words, her fears were different and protecting what was between her and Roman meant preventing them from come true.

- I made you a promise. We'll make it together, we'll have each others, you said it first – she repeated seriously – I can get dolled up every single day since is that what is expected from me as your mate, but I'll bite with heels on if things get bad – she added and finally saw Roman turn around, his eyes fixed on her.

She knew he didn’t like it, she felt it, convincing him to let her have a role, a real role that was out of his comfort zone seemed like the most difficult task of their relationship, but unexpectedly Y/N only saw him raising his hand to cup her cheek.

- Would you do it again? – he asked unexpectedly calm, running his thumb over her soft caramel skin and she did the same on his shirt, retracing the places where they had hit him – like today?

- You would step in and do the same for me, yes

Those words weighed on her tongue like condemnations. No one had ever done anything for her, no one had ever really been on her side except her father and the bloodline. Roman repeated it continuously, without stopping and she trusted, really trusted him in what they built together day after day. In the parking lot she had only outpaced him, life had put her in a corner, showing her what was true, but that kind of loyalty was reciprocated, she believed him. They were mates for a reason.

His hands moved immediately, sliding along her neck, to that spot that wouldn't stop calling him. A shiver ran across her skin as she saw his brown eyes fix there with far too much concentration, his solid grip tightened and she held her breath, clinging to his shirt.

- You have no idea what I would be capable of to keep everything – she heard him said, his voice velvety as he uttered what sounded like a threat against the world.

Y/N knew that side of him, she had glimpsed it several times: when they had met for the first time and she had tried to run away, after the trial, the morning he came back from the border, that afternoon in the parking lot against his cousins. It was what she didn't want to see, what Jimmy had perhaps talked about, but she knew that wasn't all, it was the burdens and difficulties that brought him to that point. It was up to her just to ease his thoughts a little, to make him understand that it wasn't necessary, not always, not when it was just them.

- Not here though, not today, right? – she whispered, stretching into his arms, to distract him.

His eyes moved from her hot spot to her face, sliding to her mouth and then into her gaze, when Y/N rested her eyes on him, biting his bottom lip softly to coax him. She held them on him, tasting his hot breath, clinging to his body as it seemed to push away the cool evening air and felt him answer quickly, holding her pressed against his torso. One of his hands trailed down her arm, feeling her back still tight in the red dress she hadn't taken off and further down, on her round hip he always clung to. His tongue removed from her mouth the heavy taste of promises and choices of that long day, soft, fat and she let out a moan, feeling him discreetly take control of her, moving it against her cheeks and the roof of her mouth. Almost climbing on top of him, Y/N clung to his neck, catching her breath after a long moment and immediately feeling him breath against her sensitive ear as she scratched the back of his neck and fumbled, back now pressed against the tree's trunk.

-Mine – he growl low, rough, his skin against her, ripping a beat from her heart caught in her throat and made her stomach vibrate.

His hot tongue licked her earlobe, all the way down her jugular, to her exposed collarbone and she crouched, digging her nails in, holding back the moan her wolf cried to let go.

She wanted it, she wanted to be marked as desperately as him, and yet the human part of Y/N still couldn't. Everything, but not that, not yet, not when she needed to be near him and keep a clear head. Getting marked would cause her hormones to skyrocket and she already struggled to keep them at bay normally, she didn't need to go into heat when he was fighting a war in the family and at the border.

- Tell me what I can do… i want to help - she tried, feeling his firm grip on her hips, searching his eyes again, leaving another sloppy kiss on his full lips.

Roman looked at her with an already lust gaze, recklessly licking the taste of her from his mouth and his fingers became a little more domineering, digging into Y/N’s flesh through her dress.

- Turn around, hands on the tree – he ordered, forgetting yet another attempt and despite being what she also wanted at that moment, Y/N stared at him confused.

- Here?

She had no problem doing it in unconventional places, especially not with him, but she had the feeling that he had a very specific thought in his head that had little to do with his hard-on. And despite everything, when she saw him take off his jacket to be left with only his shirt, handing it to her so that she could lean on it, Y/N nodded, pressing herself against the trunk, while he rolled the dress around her hips to remove her lingerie. She saw that piece of fabric fall carelessly onto the grass and felt the air pinch her sensitive, heated skin, just before Roman ran a finger over her pussy, stroking slowly to feel her wetness. She moaned without holding back, her arousal growing uncontrollably, body too quickly softening and watering under his attentions, bending as soon as she felt the intrusion of his big hand.

-Here – he echoed, bending down to place a kiss on her bare shoulder, fingers already working her furiously, too quickly since the beginning – Its all… mine. I can do whatever I wanna do whenever I wanna do.

His call made her mewl as much as feeling his erection slam against her ass, tense, hot, his fingertips pressed tenaciously to that spot just beyond her spongy curve that he always found, even in the middle of the backyard. She closed her eyes, sinking into the darkness of her head, hearing the sounds of the forest mix with the slimy sound of her own body and Roman's heartbeat which sprinted angrily, releasing all the frustration that was smoldering inside him.

Tag squad: @sunnyfleur23 @racerchix21 @alyyaanna @reignsangel444 @romanreignsdefencesquad @romanstheory @claymorexpunisher @keybladeofsteel @msbigredmachine @nayys-world @gobbersworld @utika151209 @cumxxslutt @civildawn @romanmydaddy @triscillal @papireigns-05 @helensanders92 @love-islike-abomb @darqchilddaydreamz @meggylynnloves @unfriendly--blvck--hottie @nicolewoo @reignsx @reigns-central-blog @kianaleani @daguenoire @extra-11 @thedonsfactory @snowpanda18 @brattyfics @mzv11 @romanreignseater @tribalchiefdaily @2baddies2furious @vebner37 @depressedneedingrevenge @cyberdejos2 @usosthetics @mahi-wayy @jxtina-86 @harmshake @harlem11680 @southerngirl41 @blkbutterfly816 @spritelucozade @smile1318 @joannasteez

[keirawantstocry]

so uh, Hi it I 💋anon. Firstly, i feel you dont understand just How Much I Enjoy Your Writing, ofc i mentioned it to a friend (also im borderline Feral about it) . Secondly, eeeeeeeeeee very good writing very cool omg omg omg Kisses for You.

So to uh deal with/celebrate tubbo coming back Wrong, mayhaps tubbo going like, extremo with possessive shit? Like, barely letting them out of his sight (or just Not letting them out of sight, no matter what(that may be too stalkerish to be comfy to write tho so 乁⁠|⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠〰⁠ ⁠･⁠ ⁠|⁠ㄏ)) If theyre going somewhere hes Coming With. once again no real plot just Vibes srry.

(as Thoughts cause i have to say it Somewhere, I feel like Fit would handcuff ppl to something in the house to keep em there when Extremely extremely possessive)

hope youre having a good day :>

(also-🍓🍒🍎🍉🍑🍊🥭🍋🍐🥝🫐🍇)

EEEEEEEEEE got me smiling and kicking my feet im so honored you mentioned it to a friend and that you’re so feral <33333 i would absolutely love to write tubbo being a crazy freak for you!! (he would. i love the idea of fitpacbo all being crazy protective with each other) *mwah*

Pac had a fair amount of experiences with crazy men. He would be the first one to admit that, to admit that if he was being completely honest he liked it. The craze in the men’s eyes and their utter desperation for him. Some might call him a bit of an attention whore but he thought he deserved it. He was quite pretty after all. 

He felt the man before he saw him. Eyes trained on his back, trailing all over his body. Even without being able to see where they were coming from, something deep inside him recognized them as a safe gaze, a protecting one. 

Fit talked to him before he saw him either. It was a vague comment about feeling like he had been watched lately. 

Pac perked up. “Excuse me?”

Fit shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. I can take care of myself.” 

“Nao, nao, it’s not that. I’ve also felt eyes on me lately.” 

Fit immediately turned defensive, going into protective mode. “What? Fuck, no, I’m sticking with you from now on.” 

Pac shook his head lightly. “Nao, don’t worry about it, Fitch. I think… I think it’s good.” 

It took a lot of talking but eventually Fit gave in and let him go off by himself. The gaze was back, the burning heat trailing over his body. There was something addictive about being watched so closely, feeling that gaze stick to his skin like glue. In the back of his mind, he acknowledged that he was a bit of a freak. But he couldn’t bring himself to care when he finally caught a glimpse of Tubbo out of the corner of his eye. 

A knowing smile stretched across his face. 

He continued to let Tubbo watch. And watch he did. Every moment of every day, he was lurking silently in the shadows. After a few days of seeing poor Fit panic over the lack of knowledge, Pac told him what he had seen. Concern was the first emotion he felt. He wondered if Fit was going to approach Tubbo about what he had been doing. But he didn’t. 

He stared at Pac for a long moment. “I’m fine with that,” he said slowly and Pac grinned. 

“You like ‘em a little dangerous like me Fitchie?” 

Fit’s silence spoke wonders. 

Yeah he fucking liked them a little dangerous. 

[cha-melodius]

❤️ first kiss / realization for lokius if you’re still doing these! No worries if not :)

(ok so this is an idea of what the first kiss for them in the old west au fic might have gone like! thought I'd return to that for funsies this time. hope you enjoy! find the other lokius kiss ficlet here)

“You didn’t take the shot.”

Mobius turns on his heel at the voice, familiar and not. They haven’t spoken more than a couple of times, but he knows its owner well nonetheless. Knows his habits. What he can’t resist. Plus, there’s only one person Mobius pointed a pistol at today.

“Didn’t have it,” he huffs as he grinds the smoldering end of his cigarette into the dirt under his boot.

It’s a blatant lie. He knows it and, more importantly, Loki knows it. With any luck, that’s as far as it goes, though. He had Loki dead to rights. Coulda put an end to all of this. Didn’t.

He’ll probably regret it one day. Right now, he can’t bring himself to.

Loki saunters closer, a shadow clad in all black with only the shine of buckles and rivets glimmering in the moonlight. They’re the only two out here behind the saloon that Mobius left because he was desperate for fresh air. He could have never guessed that Loki would come here, of all places, after he made his escape.

“There’s a whole slew of lawmen just inside,” Mobius tells him as Loki stops in front of him, close enough that Mobius has to tip his head up to look at him. Close enough that Mobius can smell the scent him, spice and woodsmoke. “I could call ‘em out here.”

“But you won’t,” Loki says. His expression is confident. Knowing. Dangerous. Mobius feels something white hot flare in his gut.

“Why’re you here, Loki?”

Loki raises one elegant hand to Mobius’ jaw and trails two fingers along the stubble there, his eyes dropping to Mobius’ lips before snapping back up. “Maybe I wanted to thank you for sparing my life.”

Mobius’ breath catches in his throat. “You don’t have to do that.”

Loki leans close to Mobius’ ear, his lips nearly brushing the shell of it, and murmurs, “I said I want to.”

The words send a tremor down Mobius’ spine, and he snaps, all that long-simmering desire finally boiling over. It’s probably a godforsaken trap but he doesn’t care anymore,  can’t resist him any longer when mere inches are all that separate them. He pulls back enough to capture Loki’s mouth in a kiss, and it’s hard because they’re hard men, but Loki yields unexpectedly under him. Goes soft and slow and sticky sweet like molasses, and it’s so overwhelming Mobius is sure he’s gonna drown in it.

“Tell me you have a room?” Loki breathes, almost unsteadily, when they finally part.

“Why? So you can fuck me and rob me in my sleep?” Mobius counters suspiciously.

“I know you don’t trust me, but I’m not here to betray you, Mobius,” Loki tells him, his eyes bright and uncannily honest in the moonlight. “Besides,” he adds, a tiny smirk tugging on the corner of his mouth, “I rather thought it might be the other way around.”

Christ, Mobius is probably going to regret this. “Yeah,” he says. “C’mon.”