#take a wild guess who dies

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[loyalhorror]

just remembered i had a dream that my (dead) mother somehow came back to life and made me a cd full of songs she liked that reminded her of me. a lot of them implied she'd learned some stuff about my system (one of them was called "Vinny!") but for some reason she either wouldn't or didn't want to actually talk to me or see me. and i was like. my unhappy 12-14 y/o self again, too. it was strange.

[sweet-herba-mystica-archive]

Balloon tries sewing for the first time event. One dead zero injured

[shushmal]

Eddie sits and watches Steve’s kitchen clock slowly count closer and closer to their movie time—closer, then past. It’s 30 minutes gone from showtime when he hears the bathroom door upstairs close and shut, and Steve’s bedroom door quietly doing the same.

Wincing, Eddie counts down slowly from 100, lets Steve wallow for a bit, before he gets down from his stool to head up.

“Hey,” Eddie murmurs, sitting beside the lump under Steve’s blankets. The lump does not reply. “Baby, you okay?”

“No,” it whines, and Eddie’s glad Steve has shoved his head under his pillow because Eddie can’t help cracking a smile. “I’m dying, and I’m a shitty boyfriend, and you’re going to dump me.”

Eddie scoffs. “The day I dump you is the day you send me to the funny farm,” he says, mock serious. “You do shit a lot though, babydoll.”

Steve whines louder. “It’s not fair! You eat expired hotdogs! Raw! Straight from the fridge!!”

“Guts of steel, Stevie! Your upper middle class suburban tummy would shrivel and die in the face of things I’ve eaten.”

“It’s shriveled and died already, thanks.”

Eddie laughs, and rubs his hand along Steve’s arm. He knows better than touching him anywhere else when Steve’s stomach is upset. But the fact that he’s in bed, under the covers, must mean the worst is over.

“You want me to get you anything?”

“New organs and a surgeon to put them in.”

“I was thinking more like water? Toast? Pepto?”

“A quick and painless death?”

“I’m afraid I can only offer you kisses and cuddles when you feel up for it. And the aforementioned consumable items.”

Steve’s head comes out from under the pillow and he squints at Eddie. His hair is standing up in wild spikes, and Eddie chews his lip to keep himself from laughing.

“Who the fuck says shit like aforementioned, you absolute dork.”

“You love me,” Eddie says, grinning.

Wrinkling his nose, Steve sighs, flopping back down on the bed. “I guess,” he admits, looking up at Eddie through his lashes with a little, miserable smile, and taking Eddie’s breath away. Even when he’s miserable and whiny, Steve remains the prettiest person Eddie’s ever had the luck to lay eyes on. “I guess I’ll take a water. And a kiss, if it’s not too much trouble.”

Eddie grins, leaning down. “Anything for you, princess.”

[shipbrigade]

The problem with writing someone else’s characters accurately, is because I love the trio concept of three bad guys where one guy has divorced the other two and what they do is have tea in front of the first guy every week to dunk on him, because that’s how one character would do it, but the other ex character absolutely wants nothing to do with either of them unless it’s about a bet and sees her as a second ex/“who are you again” since she was the first ex wife never mentioned

[jemiswumbo]

bulletproof love (18+)

twitchstreamer!luke x reader

author’s note: omgg this oneshot took all my blood sweat and tears to produce. i am NOT a graphic designer. i do NOT normally write smut. but this idea had to come to fruition before i went insane. HOPE YOU ALL ENJOY!!!!

title is from bulletproof love by pierce the veil. lyrics have no correlation but it IS a certified banger.

tags/warnings: smut!! minors dni. oral (m receiving). use of y/n. not proofread. kinda long. teeheehee etc.

i.

You met Luke Castellan at the grocery store.

He looked like a completely normal (albeit, very attractive) guy in his twenties. His dark curls fell slightly over his warm, chocolate brown eyes. A mischievous smirk was plastered across his cheeks, showing off a small dimple on the left side. He wore a simple hoodie and sweats as he perused the pasta aisle, picking up different jars of sauce and reading the labels absentmindedly. He did, however, have an interesting scar sitting jagged over his cheekbone, but it was so faint that you hadn’t noticed it until way later on.

You would have never guessed he was a near millionaire with close to a million social media followers. You would have never guessed he spent the majority of his life not at the grocery store, but rather streaming FPS and RPG games for an average of fifty thousand views at a time.

You would have never guessed he’d take a liking to you.

You, who worked part time at this very grocery store. You, who didn’t really know the first thing about video games, except that they were confusing and it was insane that some people could build ridiculously complex structures at a mind-boggling speed on Fortnite whilst also shooting with godly precision.

He had backed into you accidentally whilst you were restocking a shelf, causing you to drop a couple glass jars that cracked open upon impact with the floor. You apologized, even though you’d really done nothing wrong. He obviously thought you attractive (or maybe he just didn’t leave the house much?) because his idea of an apology was taking you out to some lavishly expensive dinner the next night.

The dinner was okay but the conversation is what got you hooked. He was so sweet and told you so many wild stories that had you laughing until your chest ached. He paid for the meal and held your hand on the drive home. When he dropped you off, he casually told you his Instagram handle and told you to shoot him a follow. You blushed, smiled, and scurried inside.

You just about died when you saw his profile.

ii.

It’s been about a year since you had started dating Luke Castellan, otherwise known as his twitch handle “SonofHermes.”

(“Because he’s the messenger god, right? In, like, Greek Mythology? And I felt like a damned messenger god when I was a moderator for four different discord servers and a twitch chat—“)

Luke’s twitch streams occured mostly every night, from 8pm to about 3am. He always began his streams with some FPS game (Overwatch, Valorant, CS:GO, or something similar). After a few hours he would swap over to a different game for his variety segment. His chat was hilarious. They loved to tease Luke and joke around with him and donate silly messages. And, of course, because Luke was so very attractive, a decent chunk of his fan base was dedicated towards swooning over his every word and look and smile.

You, honestly, never really minded. Mostly because Luke was yours. You were sure the thirsting from chat would diminish once they knew you were dating. But… you really, truly, had no desire to be in the public eye. Having nearly a million people know your name and your face was daunting and scary. You also had enough common sense to realize that some of his fans were probably batshit crazy and would send you hate and death threats for dating Luke. You were a part time employee and a student; you did not need another reason on top of that to have poor mental health.

Luke loved you unconditionally and that was all that mattered. You were perfectly content spending most evenings to yourself. He was a good boyfriend, though, and did schedule days off to take you out and show you incredible amounts of love and support. You were both very happy and secure in your relationship.

One particular evening, you were staying over at Luke’s apartment. It was a Friday, and you had no work tomorrow, so he bought alcohol and weed and selected a list of movies to marathon. It was basically your most ideal way to spend the weekend.

That was, until, Luke’s gamer friends messaged him on discord, begging him to join their Rust server to defend their group base.

Luke had met these friends through Twitch events and game conventions. There was Percy, who streamed with his girlfriend Annabeth. They were one of the most adored couples in the gaming community. They all lived in the same state, so Luke hung out with them pretty often. There was also Grover, who was Percy’s roommate and would join his streams from time to time. As well, there was Thalia, who was a huge advocate for women in eSports, and played in a professional league. Luke had introduced them too you a few months ago, and they all swore to help keep your relationship a secret.

The five of them often played different games together, as most of their fanbases consisted of the same people, so it really raked in the views and made for good content. Plus, it was just really fun. You knew how much Luke loved his friends and cherished the times they got to play together.

The Rust server was a recent hyperfixation that you were positive would fade once a new MMO came out to grab their attention. But, you were also aware of how much time and effort Luke had spent constructing this base of his.

“Go,” you said, noticing his confliction. “You can have one hour to play. Stream, too, so I can watch out here. But after that, you’re mine for the rest of the night.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Luke said with his devilish grin. He kissed you hard, leaving a swarm of butterflies dancing in your stomach. He hurried off to his bedroom, where he kept his gaming setup, and shut the door.

You were fine with spending an hour alone. Flipping through Netflix, you cracked open a bottle of wine and relaxed into the sofa.

One hour went by fast. Luke didn’t return to the living room.

You picked up your phone and opened the Twitch app, clicking on Luke’s stream. He was currently in the middle of some intense adventure with Percy. Luke’s webcam was situated in the top left corner of the game feed, and he looked so cute and handsome under the glow of the monitor and the purple LED lights.

To be honest, the wine was getting to you. You felt such a strong desire to be near Luke and to feel him and be with him. He bit his lip on camera, deep in concentration, and that action alone had your heart rate increasing.

“Fuck it,” you said, turning off the TV and standing up from the couch. His hour was up, and it was time to take the matter into your own hands.

iii.

Luke enjoyed playing his games with the volume high in his headphones. It allowed him to feel like he was actually in the game, and unaware of the outside world. This also was an issue, because more often than not he would lose track of time and forget about his plans and scheduled events.

He just couldn’t help it — he loved video games. Currently, he was busy perfecting his base on Rust so it wouldn’t be broken into again. It took a lot of effort and concentration, and Percy and Grover dicking around and goofing off did nothing to help his focus.

So, it only made sense that he didn’t notice his bedroom door opening. The door wasn’t in frame on his camera, so he didn’t see it open, either. He didn’t notice it close. He didn’t notice you, getting down on all fours and crawling over to his desk setup.

He didn’t notice you, at all, until you put a hand on his leg.

Luke jumped a bit and glanced down, meeting your mischievous glance and the naughty smile on your cheeks.

“Uh, chat — sorry, gotta go to the bathroom, one sec —“ Luke rushed out. He shut off his camera and muted his mic, double checking that it was definitely muted by quickly scanning the latest messages in his chat:

He rolled his eyes at the messages, and pushed his chair back, glaring at you on the floor. “Baby, what the hell are you doing?!”

You smiled. “I was just missing you, is all.”

“So you snuck in — wait, shit, you said one hour. It’s been an hour hasn’t it?” Luke said, running a hand through his messy curls.

You nodded, and gave a weak shrug. “It’s okay, though. I think it would be fun if we also played a game of our own.”

Luke raised his eyebrows, feeling a blush form on his cheeks. “What’re .. what’re you suggesting?”

You unbuttoned your blouse and tossed to the floor, leaving you in a lacy black bra and your mini skirt. You let your fingers linger on the strap of your bra. “I’ll let you stream longer. But.. once you cum, you have to shut it off.”

“You want to blow me on stream?” Luke asked, incredulously. He could already feel himself start to harden at the thought of this ‘game’ of yours occurring.

“Like, secretly, though.” You said with a slight eye roll. “You can try to keep your composure for as long as you can, but you’ll be all mine for the rest of the night. Okay?”

Luke took a minute to ponder. If he somehow got caught… the consequences would be severe. His reputation would be tarnished. He’d lose his job and his income and the entire career he had worked so hard to build.

But on the other hand.. you looked really fucking sexy, staring at him with your doe-eyes, feigning innocence in the most seductive lingerie he’d ever seen you in.

“Fuck’s sake.” Luke pulled his chair back towards his desk. He tugged his sweatpants down to his ankles, giving you a face full of his half hard cock and his toned, muscular thighs. “You have to be quiet too, you little slut. I seriously cannot get caught.”

“Of course,” you replied, slightly moaning as you took his length into your hand. “You’re so incredibly attractive.”

“Shut up,” Luke said, adjusting his camera angle to absolutely ensure it cut off at his upper chest and nothing lower than that was visible. He took a deep breath and was about to rejoin his stream, when you began sucking him off. “Fuck!”

You pulled your lips off of him with a loud pop. “Come on, Lukey, you can last longer than that.”

“You’re mouth feels so fucking good though,” Luke groaned, threading his fingers through your hair. He took another deep breath and guided your head back to his cock, which was now fully hard and aching for your mouth. This time, when you licked up his shaft, he was more prepared and was able to maintain his chill composure. “Okay. Okay, baby, I’m turning my stuff back on. Be quiet, please.”

You nodded, slowly taking him back into your warm mouth.

Luke turned on his camera. He turned on his mic. He ran a hand through his hair and grabbed his mouse and keyboard. “Okay, I’m back. Chat, please tell me Percy and Thalia didn’t do anything stupid while I was gone.”

“Hey!” You heard, faintly from Luke’s headset. “We didn’t do anything, and if your chat says otherwise, they are lying!”

You giggled as quietly as you could, and clearly the vibrations from such movement felt good for Luke, because you heard him take a sharp intake of breath.

“Wh-whatever. Doesn’t matter. Let’s get back to work.” Luke said defensively.

“What?” Percy asked. “You sound weird, man. Is something wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong!” Luke replied, too quickly and at an octave higher than he normally speaks. You couldn’t help but get a little nervous. He was terrible at being subtle.

“Okay…” This was a girl’s voice, and sounded like Thalia. “My chat agrees that you’re being weird.”

“Same.” Percy agreed.

“Yeah, well,” Luke scanned his second monitor to check in on how his chat was reacting. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. “My chat is being dumb, as per usual.”

Below the desk, your nerves had subsided and instead you became preoccupied with the notion of possibly getting caught. It was kind of twisted but this caused your lower region to dampen. You lifted your short little skirt over your hips and moved your lacy underwear to the side, giving you access to finger yourself.

You moaned, with your mouth full of thick, heady cock, and brain slightly foggy from the wine consumption. You were close already.

“What?” Luke said, clearly reading something on his monitor. “Chat, that was my phone vibrating on my desk. I did not moan over that headshot Percy made. Be so for real”

“Rude,” Percy said. “I would’ve moaned. I’m like, the god of gaming.”

“Loser.” Luke responded, biting his lower lip and slightly bucking his hips into your mouth. He must’ve been getting close, too.

From that moment on, you were desperate to make Luke finish. You abandoned your slow and gentle place, and took his entire cock down your throat. You silently gagged, and bobbed your head up and down, making sure to suck a bit longer on his leaking tip. You grabbed his balls in your right hand and squeezed, keeping your left hand on his upper thigh.

“Fuck,” Luke murmured, just under his breath. You sucked harder in response. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.”

“What is going on, dude?” Percy questioned. “You’re stressing me out.”

Luke glanced over at his chat again.

Luke flipped a middle finger to his camera, and gave a playful, “Chat, you all suck.” Obviously, he loved his fans and was eternally grateful for their support. It was just fun to mess around with them and feign a love hate relationship. It did make him a bit anxious, however, that everyone easily picked up on the fact that something was affecting Luke. It didn’t exactly help that he was really close to finishing and was starting to lose track of what was happening in the game. All he could feel was his cock going in and out and in and out of your soft lips, that were now coated in a mixture of salvia and his precum. It was just about driving him insane.

You, on the other hand, were knuckle deep inside your own cunt and sucking Luke off with so much fervour your jaw was starting to ache. But you loved the feeling. And you were determined to get him off. Now.

Suddenly, Luke felt the familiar feeling build inside himself. Before he realized it was happening, he was shooting thick ropes down your eager throat. “Fuck!” he screamed, legs shaking and eyes squeezing shut. He shuddered and gasped for air as you did not let up on your pace, sucking every last drop of cum from him.

He realized how fucking weird this whole ordeal must’ve looked to his many (many, many) viewers.

Instead of confronting what just happened, he slammed his mouse on the End Stream button and shut off his computer, without so much as a goodbye. He pushed his chair back and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you up to your feet.

You smiled at him sweetly, a sheen of sweat covering your entire body. Luke leaned down and kissed you hungrily.

“Y/n,” he said, once he was out of breath from such an intense kiss. “I.. Need. To be inside of you. And you can never, ever do that again.”

“Mhmm,” you hummed innocently. “Kinda seemed like you really liked it though.”

“Oh, shut up.” Luke said with a grin. “Bed. Now.”

You obliged, heading over to his comfy queen sized bed, unaware that you were about to have the most mind blowing sex of your entire life.

authors note: aaaaa ok. first of all i’d like to apologize. i have not proofread this at all and i wrote each chunk on separate days. i will proofread it eventually and fix the errors lmao.

also! now that all the ~lore~ to this AU is sorted, if you ever wanna send me twitchstreamer!luke specific prompts, i would ADORE THAT.

thank you all again for reading !!!!! <3

taglist: @notacluelessblonde00 @lilyirlevans

[maruflix]

  — ★ 𝐓𝐄 𝐌𝐀𝐓𝐀

☆ — “YOU MAKE ME THE HAPPIEST I’VE EVER BEEN.”

SYNOPSIS : Takiishi Chika’s love for you burns like a wildifre, unable to be tamed. After one too many bruises, you decide to run away, finding solace in Umemiya Hajime’s waiting arms. FEATURING : (Umemiya Hajime x f!reader) x Takiishi Chika CONTENT : 3.8k words, mentions of violence and physical abuse, toxic relationship but you got out of it, slight university!AU, hurt/comfort

You wanted a lover who took you to the edge. You found that in Takiishi Chika, whose love burns so bright and wild it consumes everything in its path. 

Now you’re stumbling down the road, tears streaking down your face, clutching a bruised wrist and struggling to breathe. You can still feel his hands around your throat and you reach out a hand to wipe at your neck, hissing when you accidentally brush against another injury.

“What happened to you?!” You realize just how out of it you are when you bump into a tall figure. When you look up, you’re met with a concerned Umemiya Hajime, his usually serene blue eyes now blown wide in panic.

You want to reply, but your words are caught in your throat. Somehow, he understands.

“Him again?” His voice comes out in a whisper, and you can only nod. He lets out a sigh, holding out both his arms to the sides. “Come here.”

And you collapse in his embrace, pressing your face on his chest to hide from the distress in his eyes as your tears start to pour faster. He holds you impossibly closer, consoling you with gentle shushes. 

“I’ve got you,” he whispers against your hair, “I’ve got you.” 

It’s 1 AM and your phone beeps once. Turning over on your bed, you resist the urge to check it again. ‘It’s over’, you tell yourself.

The room is dark, but you can make out the outline of the box sitting quietly on your desk, filled to the brim with memories of when you were in love. Stacks of photographs of you and a golden-eyed boy with fiery red hair —  you are smiling in each and every one.

You close your eyes and your mind traitorously plays your favorite memory.

“Chika-kun! What would you do if I died?”

Chika blinked. “Are you dying?”

“No!” You gave him a pout. “This is just a hypothetical question!”

His eyes softened as he pulled you closer against him. “I will never let you die.”

“What if I die from old age?”

“Then I will die right after you.”

Your heart fluttered at his straightforward answer. It was just like him to say these kinds of things so casually. “Oh, what if I run away from you? What will you do?”

There’s a glint in his eye when he leaned in to capture your lips in a kiss. “Then I will hunt you down.”

But it’s 1 AM, and Chika no longer floods your chat with missed calls and demands for you to pick up. It takes the same amount of time for the bruise on your wrist to fade for the quiet realization to finally dawn on you: It’s over.

Umemiya Hajime comes in like a tornado. He always did, and his sudden presence sends a gust of wind that makes your hair flow upwards when he stops in front of you.

“Hi, Umemiya-kun.”

When you look up from your magazine, Umemiya is already smiling. “Hi. I texted you last night, but you didn’t reply. I guess you’re already fixing your sleep schedule, huh?” Before you can reply with an apology for missing it, he leans over the counter and slides a big chocolate bar your way. It looks expensive from the way the packaging shines.

“What’s this?”

“I know you’ve been skipping lunch.” He admits sheepishly, “We’re all kinda worried. You’ve been nodding off during morning lectures too,” Suddenly he pauses, as if stopping himself from giving you his own lecture, “So anyway. I see you always carry something sweet with you, figured you’ve got a sweet tooth.”

Umemiya is as perceptive as always. When you raise your head to look at him again, you spot Kotoha grinning and giving you a thumbs up. You instinctively smile at her goofy face, and Umemiya beams right after you. “W-well! That’s all I wanted to give you! Um, I’ll get going now! Bye!” After stuttering like an idiot, the campus heartthrob speedwalks to the door, blushing to the tips of his ears. 

Kotoha is already in front of you, smirking. “Oh, come on! Give the poor boy a chance!”

You quickly snap your head to the entrance when the bell dings, signaling the arrival of the cafe’s next customer, and let out a sigh in relief when you see it isn’t him. You focus back on Kotoha’s worried face, and to ease her worries, you shrug. “I actually have plans to watch that new superhero movie with him next week.” You smile when Kotoha squeals in excitement.

You wonder why you didn’t say yes to his invitation sooner.

“You know that karaoke place near our old high school? When we went together — Sakura, Hiragi, and I — Sakura got so flustered after getting a 95 singing ‘Absolute zero’ that he tripped and broke the table!”

You laugh at your own imagination of Sakura, as clumsy and awkward as always. Umemiya preens, as if making you laugh is a huge achievement.

“We had to pay for it, you know? Sakura and me, we both forgot to bring our wallet, so Hiragi had to foot the bill. Don’t even ask me how many pills he swallowed that night.”

You snort and laugh again. Umemiya’s grin is wider now as he picks up a straw, opening up the wrapping and plopping the straw in your drink before turning it to face your way. The simple gesture is enough to make your heartbeat stutter as you quietly thank him.

“Anyway, our movie won’t start until 4. You wanna look at some clothes after this?” He tilts his head and rests his chin on one hand, smiling so tenderly it catches you off guard.

Chika hates it when I spend too much time wandering around the stores. You bite your lip as you start to feel sick again.

“Actually, I’m the one who wants to look at clothes. Is it okay if you accompany me?” Umemiya snaps you from your thoughts and you focus back on his smile again. There’s a pleading look in his eyes.

You’re reminded once more that you’re no longer in your past relationship. You smile at Umemiya, a genuine and contented smile. “Sure thing! I’d love to look around too.”

By the time the two of you walk into the movie theater, Umemiya’s hands are full of shopping bags and his face is painted with a satisfied smile even though the clothes in the bags are all yours.

When your phone flashes with the notification of a new message, your wallpaper is no longer a picture of a golden-eyed boy. Instead, it is a photo of you and Hajime, his white hair unstyled and falling carelessly in front of his gentle eyes as he gives the camera a wide grin. His arm is slinged around your shoulder, pulling you close as you beam up to the camera next to him.

You pick it up from the counter and smile.

Don’t forget to eat!! (,,>﹏<,,) Or I will feed you myself (˵ •̀ ᴗ - ˵ ) ✧

You never skip your meals now, no longer needing to starve yourself to forget about the pain of your last relationship, yet Hajime still takes his time to message you everyday with small reminders. You type back.

Is that a threat or a promise? (ㅅ´ ˘ `)

“Ah!” Kotoha’s yelp almost sends your phone flying from your hands. “Sorry! I didn’t mean to peek, but the emojis are so cute!”

“It’s fine.” Putting your phone on the table, it flashes again with a new notification. This time Kotoha openly ogles your lock screen, squealing.

“Oh my, you guys are totally dating!”

You merely smile, but your heart wonders when he will finally ask you out.

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Your eyes flicker from side to side, trying to find a way out from the situation you’re currently in.

A dark alleyway. You, with your back to the wall. Takiishi Chika on the opposite side of the alley, calmly walking towards you with fire in his eyes. He’s smiling.

You can tell that this is not going to go well. By the time you stop panicking to assess the current situation, Chika is already gripping your wrist. The same one he bruised two months ago.

“L-let go, Chi— Takiishi.” Eyes fixed on the ground, you make an attempt to wrench it away but he stubbornly holds it in place.

“I’m Takiishi to you now, huh?” There is seething anger behind his words, you can tell. “You look well. Have you forgotten about me while you strut around town with your new boyfriend?” He sneers again, the icy undercurrents in his tone sending shivers down your spine.

When you say nothing, his grip on your wrist tightens and you pray to whatever god is out there that it won’t leave a mark. You don’t want to make Hajime worry again. But deep down you know that he probably intends to leave a bruise. 

Takiishi may seem like an airhead, but he does things so calculatedly. Every torture he inflicts upon you is measured and deliberate. He does things covertly, gradually cranking up the level. He grips you tighter and tighter, until he finally lets his hands make their way around your neck. Suddenly the ember in his eyes blazes into a scorching wildfire as he chokes you until you cry and beg for him to stop. No amount of kisses he plants on your bruises the next day is enough to make you stay.

“I said, let go.” You evenly meet his gaze. “Hajime-kun is waiting for me.”

Takiishi reels back in anger, but before he can show you just how furious he is with you, a hand grips his arm roughly and forces him to release his grip on you.

“Is something the matter?” Hajime’s voice is calm and steady, but you can sense the fury stirring in him as he towers above Takiishi, eyes burning in a way you’ve never seen before.

Takiishi is a man of few words. He immediately swings, but Hajime throws his hands up just in time to block the blow. To your surprise, Hajime sends a punch back, and even though Takiishi manages to block it from connecting with his chest, the force of the strike pushes him backwards. He catches himself before he can stumble down, but Hajime is relentless as he aims a kick at his head. Then another. And another.

This time Takiishi is forced to take several steps back, glaring at him, and at you. Hajime takes the opportunity to quickly wrap an arm around you as he guides you away, his eyes never leaving his opponent. 

Takiishi stands in the darkness as he watches you both disappear.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have made you wait so long.” Hajime doesn’t comment when you rest your head against his chest, your eyes closing with the ambient glow of knowing you are safe. Instead, he envelops you in a warm embrace, holding you close enough for you to feel his heartbeat as he lets out a relieved sigh. “I’ve got you.”

Perhaps it is the tenderness in his voice, the silent and unyielding promise to protect you, or the way his strong arms hold you so steadily— you couldn’t really tell, but you finally let yourself cry. He holds you gently, caressing your head in slow and calming strokes, silently waiting until your body stops shaking and your sobs die down.

The adrenaline finally fades away and you feel yourself breathing again. “What were you doing anyway?” You murmur against his chest. When Hajime places his chin on top of your head and hums, you can feel your body weakening.

“I was getting flowers.” He admits, “I, uh.. I don’t know if this is the right time but…” He steels himself before grabbing your face, holding you beneath your ears with shaky hands, “I love you.”

Your eyes widen at his sudden confession, heartbeat quickening at the way Hajime stares at you; cautious, hesitant, and heart wrenchingly tender, like he’s trying to figure you out.

He looks away, flustered, eyes drooping down like he’s preparing himself for a rejection. “Is.. is that okay? I know you just got out of a bad relationship, I don’t want to force you into anything you don’t want. If you’re uncomfortable, you can just pretend I never said any-”

You shut him up by crashing your lips on his. The world seems to slow its spin as Hajime returns the kiss, his hands threading in your hair before lazily dropping down to graze the nape of your neck and finally settling on the small of your back. He chuckles against your lips, a deep rumble that sends delightful shivers down your spine.

Eventually, he pulls back. His eyes are as tender as always as he gazes down at you, the fondness so thick and heavy you feel like it’s going to swallow you whole. Hajime’s fingers brush against the side of your cheek and you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’ve been holding. You thought that his affection for you is cute and endearing at best, but you discover that you have yet to feel the full force of it.

“So is this your way of saying yes?” He’s giving you that boyish grin again, and you bury your face in his broad chest, the smell of his cologne and his warmth enveloping you like a cocoon.

“Yeah. I love you too, Hajime.”

“I… I think you should see this.”

You know something is up when Kotoha nervously hands you her phone. Glancing down at it, you find that it is an instagram post of Takiishi, sprawled across the couch with an unfamiliar girl sitting next to him. Endo, the one who posted the photo, is standing behind him, leaning over with one arm to strike a pose for the camera. As usual, the comment section of Endo’s posts are filled with equally popular kids. The top comment read:

randomguy001 Oh? Did Takiishi break up with his girlfriend? She’s so pretty, too…

Takiishi’s reply makes your heart drop to your stomach.

tkiishi You should ask Umemiya Hajime.

It is followed by another reply, this time from Endo.

end.0 LOLOLOLOL

You hand Kotoha back her phone, a small smile on your lips. You’re disappointed but not surprised— Takiishi Chika is a force to be reckoned with, you know that all too well. He loves things fiercely, like a wildfire that consumes everything, leaving nothing in its wake. You’re so nervous to be around him, like dancing around the sharp edge of a knife and hoping that it won’t strike you, forgetting just how vicious he truly is when he makes you feel special by treating you a little bit better than how he treats others.

And yet, in spite of how deeply he is rooted in you, he never treats you kindly.

You rub your wrist mindlessly as your mind wanders to the five times he strikes you to the point of leaving bruises, and the one time you fight back. The battle scar has faded away, but not from your mind. You can still remember the heaviness of his blows as they connect with the spots you know you can hide underneath your shirt. He’s so careful about leaving marks on your body. 

Your train of thoughts is broken when your own phone beeps. You open it, already smiling at the sight of your new wallpaper: you and Hajime standing in front of a huge aquarium, his hands wrapped around your waist while you make a peace sign, smiling so happily that your eyes turn into slits. But unlike you, Hajime’s eyes are not looking at the camera. It is looking at you, smiling down like he’s got the entire world in his arms.

I’m almost there!! Let’s eat ramen today, I’m STARVING ٩(ˊᗜˋ*)و 

Just like that, you can breathe again. Your smile relaxes as you type a reply, giggling to yourself at Hajime’s excessive use of cutesy emojis.

Kotoha watches you silently, a relieved smile on her lips. This is not like the last time you said it was over but asking to stay at her place in fear of Takiishi coming over unannounced. Not like when you said it was over but you have another bruise on your wrist, making Hajime panic to the point of almost crying.

This time, you’re unaffected by your ex’s desperate pleas for attention. This time, you’re glowing with joy, bathed in the love Hajime showers you with. This time, it’s truly over.

Takiishi never comes to campus events.

So you’re standing in shock when you spot him amongst the crowd, his black attire contrasting the colorful sea of people. He spots you too and starts to make his way to you, his hands balled into fists on the sides of his torso.

He’s standing in front of you now, but this time you’re the one who’s smiling. “Here to sign up for the…” you check your clipboard, “World War II discussion? Damn, never took you for a history geek.”

Takiishi growls. “Come with me.”

“Oh? Where? Am I invited too?” A long arm snakes around your waist and you smile up to see your boyfriend, grinning at you handsomely. Hajime’s white hair is swept back as he runs a hand through it to fix the loose strands that frames his face. Standing at the full height of 6'2, he makes sure to stand a little straighter so he can purposefully look down at Takiishi. Behind him, his little student body clique follows closely: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Kaji Ren, Tsubakino Tasuku, and Hiragi Toma who’s lagging a little bit behind all of them as he’s gulping down stomach medicine.

Takiishi is a short-tempered person, but he’s not stupid. He knows that nothing good will come out of fighting with the student body president in the middle of the campus hall, so he simply glares at him before turning away.

“It’s like you have a demon following you.” Once Takiishi is out of earshot, Hajime complains, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“How are we still beefing with them even in university…?” Hiragi appears, face gaunt from stress.

You giggle. “Luckily I have all of you to protect me.”

Hajime leans down to kiss your cheek and his friends groan. “Anytime, baby. Now let’s go have lunch. The event will start soon and when it does we have to stand around until night.”

Soon, all traces of Takiishi is erased from your mind as you walk with your friends, laughing hard enough to make a few heads turn as Hajime’s hands intertwines with your own.

The next time you and Takiishi meet, you have no idea. 

You’re too busy looking up at the skies as fireworks boomed around you, your own cheers drowned out by the crowd. You shyly glance at Hajime who is dressed handsomely in a gray yukata, only to find that he’s already gazing at you. He mouths an ‘I love you’, squeezing your hand as his lips stretches to form a smile.

Takiishi watches from a distance, his feet rooted to the ground. “You wanted a lover who took you to the edge,” he thought bitterly, “Was it not me who gave you that?” He wants so desperately to march straight to you, to beat up Umemiya Hajime so badly that he sees stars, and drag you with him to the place where you belong— right by his side, but he grows uncertain of his own thoughts when he sees your head thrown back in laughter, body inching closer to Umemiya. Endo is quiet next to him, but he can feel his worried stare. He hates it when people do that, he hates to be pitied.

Then you catch sight of him, and his breath hitches in his throat. His hands move forward, but his freezing body betrays him. “Hey.” He wants to say, “You look happy.” he opens his mouth, but no words come forward.

“Hi.” You want to say out of politeness, but Hajime places a finger on your chin, lifting it up gently as his lips find yours, stealing every thought from your body. It’s like all the sounds are silenced and time is suspended when he pulls away, giving you a playful smile when he sees that your eyes are still squeezed shut, cheeks dusted in a blush. “Oh? Guess I’ve successfully charmed you.” He murmurs, pressing his forehead against yours.

When your eyes flutter open, Takiishi is already gone. In front of you, you can only see Hajime, standing proud and tall, basking in the warmth of your affection. You reach out a hand to caress his hair, and he leans into your touch, humming. “I love you, Hajime.” With that, his eyes widen, but you’re not done. “You make me the happiest I’ve ever been.”

Hajime laughs. Another firework booms in the distance. “Then I’m the luckiest man alive.”

Your heart rises in a crescendo, but before you can kiss him again, your phone beeps. Your eyes bulge from its sockets as you raise it up to show him the message.

I’m sorry.

You’re wondering why Hajime immediately burst out laughing, only realizing that you haven’t changed his ID.

‘Chikasshole (⚠️ DON’T REPLY!)’ is written in bold letters on top of the surprising apology text, and you find your own lips curling up. Soon, the both of you are laughing together at the absurdity of it all, at how small your problems seemed to be now.

“Hey, what’s so funny?” Hiragi appears with takoyaki. Behind him, Sakura and Sugishita are busy bickering. “Kaji and the others found a good viewing spot, let’s go before others find it too.”

You smile as Hajime clasps his hand with yours. “Okay!” At your agreement, Hiragi turns away, getting distracted by the two bickering children as the three of them walk off. “Well, let’s go.” You beam up at Hajime, who chuckles and gestures with his arm for you to start walking.

It feels perfect; you and Hajime, set against a soaring night sky as the fireworks blaze up ahead. You feel your wings unfolding behind you. Taking one more look at Hajime, he looks at you the same way he always does — like he is bedazzled. 

You take a step forward and take flight.

TE MATA is an entry for Amor’s ORQUÍDEAS EVENT: Knowing your worth is the first step towards self-love. After escaping a toxic relationship you find the love of your life. However, you also find yourself being depicted as a devil by your ex. It's time to embrace the role of devil, because he will never be able to cut off your wings, and that kills him.

My love, thank you for letting me participate! Hurt/comfort holds a special place in my heart and I really enjoyed writing this ৻( •̀ ᗜ •́ ৻)

TAGLIST: @kaiser1ns , @17020 , @stunie

[thefanficmonster]

Never Beating the Allegations

Colby Brock x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: FLUFF, Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: A compilation of Colby and Y/N being far too obvious with their feelings for one another for the entire world to see. Basically, a YouTube documentation spanning several channels that marks the history of this goofy relationship

"It's fucking nighttime already, dude! We're running two hours behind schedule!" Sam complains through a smile, shaking his head at Colby who's trailing behind him with bags full of snacks. "All because someone spent those two hours scouring a store!

They're currently in Canada following the filming of a couple investigations for Hell Week with Kris and Celina. As Sam said, they were supposed to be two hours along the road back home already - a very tiny portion of their roadtrip back, seeing as how they didn't get to buy plane tickets on time. So, they settled for a two day roadtrip and the adventure it would bring on.

Colby, not at all bothered by Sam's accusations, smiles at the camera, "I promised Y/N I'd bring back signature Canadian snacks for her. There is no chance in hell I go home empty-handed. She'd kill me." As if to prove he is serious about his quest, he lifts the two heavy looking bags for the camera to get a better shot of them.

Sam's smile falters, replaced by a highly offended frown, "So you're telling me we're not gonna eat any of those snack on the road?" Colby - folding with laughter, mind you - shakes his head. "Are you fucking ki-...."

* * * * *

"I'm almost done!" Y/N calls out from her spot in front of the mirror where she's been stuck for the past thirty minutes trying to even out her winged liner.

A groan comes from a far distance but is still picked up by her phone microphone and is heard by the audience of Y/N's Instagram live, "You keep saying that!"

Not ten seconds later, the door is thrown open, provoking a laugh from the girl. She lowers her hand and takes her attention away from her reflection to pay her roommate proper acknowledgement. "Give me a second, sheesh! Can't a girl make herself pretty in peace?"

Although he never enters the frame fully, the live chat is already flowing with cheers of Colby's name. Whether it was wishful thinking or an educated guess on their part is a mystery. Regardless, they're entirely correct, their suspicions confirmed when they hear his voice and see his arm come into frame, his hand cupping Y/N's chin to tilt up her face.

"You're always pretty." He says, causing her to roll her eyes. At that, he boops her nose with his pointer finger before withdrawing his arm, "You have five minutes to wrap things up."

Y/N's gaze lingers on him until he's out of sight. She shakes her head and catches the camera's eye in the mirror reflection, "The audacity on that man. Tsk

* * * * *

@_y/n_dragonfly Fuck Valentine's Day @_colbybrock

Needless to say, the comments went wild, running with this post on Y/N's Instagram as unofficial proof of the ship the fandom seems to hold so near and dear to their hearts.

Hope dies last, after all. Maybe one day their ship might set-sail.

* * * * *

"Ok, so, update..." Colby chuckles, looking away from the camera he's currently holding blogging style to make sure he doesn't trip on anything, "We were supposed to go grab food before starting the investigation, but then...." He flips the camera to show the backyard of the abandoned house they'll be exploring tonight, "Y/N found a trampoline in the backyard."

As the camera focuses, both Sam and Y/N come into clear view - the former laughing at the latter who's too busy to care. She's too occupied having the time of her life on this raggedy looking trampoline, reveling in childlike joy as she hops around.

Colby sets the camera on the tripod Sam had left nearby, wanting to capture this wholesome moment, even if it didn't make it into the final cut of the video. Though he doesn't see why it wouldn't.

After adjusting the camera, he turns to find Sam has joined Y/N on the trampoline, far more hesitant than she is, though.

"You guys are ridiculous." He remarks as he approaches them, shaking his head with a bright smile on his face.

Y/N lands on her knees so she can be at least halfway at eye-level with her friend, offering him a beckoning hand, "Come be ridiculous too. Don't be a bore."

Colby scoffs and rolls his eyes. Still, he accepts her hand but instead of using it for support to climb up to join his friends on the trampoline, he tugs on it. Y/N lets out a little yelp as she's enveloped in his arms. Her legs instinctively wrap around his waist, unwilling to have a rather unpleasant encounter with the ground.

"Colby! Put me down!!" Put her down he most certainly doesn't, instead opting to spin her while securely holding her in his arms, eliciting mock terror-filled screams from her.

Eventually, he does get persuaded into joining her and Sam on the trampoline.

And the whole fiasco eventually makes it into the final cut and onto the internet.

And, inevitably, in edits.

* * * * *

It's an innocent, wholesome TikTok they filmed in the garden of the Conjuring house. Yes, the Conjuring house, no biggie.

Sam is the cameraman who much to his relief didn't even need to orchestrate anything. He just pressed the record button on his phone to capture the tomfoolery going on. The lighting is perfect, provided by the few remaining rays of sunlight before dark befell them. A little lighthearted fun was more than needed before they'd have to go back in the house to chat with spirits for the night.

The video captures Y/N in her natural element - dancing goofily with the pair of headphones they use for the Estes method on her head. The caption under the video reads: 'When the spirits drop a sick beat' and is quite the perfect depiction of the trio's dynamic.

Sam documenting the chaos. Y/N being the chaos. And Colby observing her chaos with heart-eyes from the sidelines.

Although Sam hadn't originally noticed his best friend's awed gaze accidentally captured in the video, the fans most definitely noticed. And, as per usual, they ran with it.

*sigh* These two are never beating the allegations.

@benbarnesprettygurl @jessy-shine @mushycore @richardsamboramylove55 @smuttiest-smuttt @honey-bees-13 @rei-ito

[stararch4ngelqueen]

Motivation

(Part 2)

—

Time Written- 10:23 p.m.

I wrote this 3 times and gave up. Severely gave up

—

“Wakey Wakey, sweetheart.” His lightly exhausted tone nearly roused your eyes open.

A faint click of a bedside lamp invades the silence shortly before Jason shuffles out of bed, displaying a warm glow to your light sensitive vision.

A small groan falls from your mouth, your eyes shutting closed in irritation from the distraction of your comfort. His arms left their sanctuary around your waist, a kiss of warmth remaining along your tummy before he readjusted a soft, thin blanket over your tired body.

Jason was considerate enough to turn off his alarm nearly three minutes before it goes off, saving his special girl a few minutes of precious sleep. As the midsummer sun dies down behind fluffy clouds, golden rays of light reflecting off skyscraper glass into the dead of the night, Gotham’s wild crowds creep out from their crooked caverns to play.

“Hey mama. Sorry to ruin the fun, but I think my arm ran out of blood flow.”

“Do you need it?” Your faint, croaked rumble spews from your barely moving lips.

“I mean, I suppose I’ll need it to fight an’ aim guns at unlucky bastards. Guess that means you gotta lose the pillow.”

Another groan leaves your lips before reluctantly raising your head, setting his arm free from its prison. You spent a minute of quiet suffering before Jason’s fingers cupped your head, guiding you to raise it just enough to slip a fluffy pillow to settle your pretty brain on.

The A/C was on full blast, the blank noise lulling your tired minds to sleep around seven. While it was counterintuitive to be snuggling together in this hot summer heat, you wanted nothing more than to be in his company, comfortable in his safety.

Bare feet shuffling along hard foot floor shifts to heavy rubber soles as Jason gets dressed. Soft cotton and polyester drops to the ground, replaced with tactical fabrics and scrunching leather. A short sonnet of clicks and snaps follow as he adjusts his belt and holsters, getting everything comfortably situated on his person.

“You’re not angry with me, are ya?” He clicks his tongue, fighting off a smile at your lack of response.

“Earth to Goddess.” His calm voice invades your ears as the floor creaks, the dressed vigilante shuffling to his knees beside the bed, settling close to your face.

“Princess.” Jason lightly chimes, brushing your cheek with the back of his pointer finger.

He then proceeds his ever loving assault via planting various kisses along your face, ranging from your cheek up towards your forehead, back down to your nose.

“Babygirl.” He cooes against your sweet smelling hair.

“Do you have to go now?” Came your eventual, irritated whine.

He leans forward, mattress gently creaking as he pressed his lips just under your ear for a quick kiss. “Not yet. You got me for five more minutes.”

Jason settles his head on your collarbone, your nose slightly tickled from locks of soft, dark hair. His eyes are closed, but for once, they’re content with peacefulness. That, and the events that would come within the next month, changing their lives forever.

Jason’s smile widens as your fingers mindlessly trails random shapes along his open palm, your hands always lingering somewhere along his body.

“Y’know I’d give just about anything to get back in bed with you,” his armored chest rumbles with his lowly spoken words. “But, I’m a little big in this get up to be this close to you at the moment. Don’t wanna crush you.”

Those sudden words couldn’t help but make you smile, scoffing just a bit. Ever the doting, overly concerned, slightly overdramatized, loving man he is.

“I don’t know who’s bigger right now,” your exhaustion let you speak in ghostly whispers. “You, or me.”

“Well, you’re the pregnant one,” he says, fighting off a strong, snarky remark with an amused smirk. “So, you definitely take the win with that.”

The look you gave him the second your eyes snapped open made him chuckle, as if he willfully insulted you. The irony of it, considering he was around 6’4 and 250 pounds, a large percent being complete muscle mass while you carried a seven pound baby.

“Kidding, babe. Kidding,” he soothes, trailing a few fingers along your swollen tummy just over the blanket. “Just trying to joke off the nerves. Doesn’t help that it’s my first time…”

“It better be your first time,” you mutter under your breath.

“Yeah yeah, It is. Don’t worry.” Jason’s voice is soft, his cheeks turning a light shade of red at that, and he can’t help but smile as the two of them laugh quietly at her joke.

The weight of their child is a constant pressure on your body to create an incredible miracle. It’s certainly something new, he always wants to make sure his little mama is happy and healthy. Mostly happy.

He trails a finger down your stomach, pausing when he feels a faint thud near the round lower edge of his palm. For eight months teetering on the edge of nine, the baby was definitely getting active.

“Think your boy’s getting ready to fight those unlucky bastards with you.” You lightly chide with a small grin.

“Language, mama,” Jason retorts, flicking some wisps of hair away from your head. “Don’t want ‘em to hear those foul words. An’ I’m not in the market for sidekicks.”

You frown again, scoffing at his hypocrisy.

The surrealism was intense, affecting him from the center of his brain towards the tips of his hands and toes.

Your boy, his boy. His son.

“You two keep the bed warm for me.” Jason murmurs before pressing a few goodbye kisses along your cheek. “I’ll come back with breakfast when you wake up, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper, consciousness struggling to remain afloat. It’s a silly mental image; the reaction of the owners of an early bird, go-to diner frantically scrambling out of shock and awe when Red Hood himself enters their establishment.

He stands from the floor, lovingly glancing down at his beautiful, pregnant woman cradled in bed, nestled with his pillow, perfectly content.

“Be safe,” you whisper to him, watching him reach towards the lamp to shut it off. The warmth of the vanished lap changing his eyes from a strong emerald green back towards a crisp, steel-cut teal.

“I love you.”

Your voice always sweetened the deal, a perfect lullaby once it was his turn to sleep.

The perfect motivation for him to look forward to every morning.

“Love you too, mama.”

[solarmorrigan]

TW: Discussion of suicide, suicidal ideation, child neglect. Nothing happens in the fic (all hurt/comfort, I promise), but it's very frankly talked about, so please proceed with care <3

-

It takes three weeks.

(In reality, it takes longer than that. It takes until after Steve realizes he’s spending more time at Eddie and Wayne’s new place than he is at his own house. It takes until after Eddie has asked Steve to just move in with them already. It takes until after Steve has packed his things up, and carefully cleaned up the house, and set the thermostat, and informed the pool cleaners, and paid a neighbor to check the mail every few days, and – he hadn’t felt right, just leaving, even though Eddie had repeatedly told him he didn’t owe anyone anything. But it had taken until after all of that, and then–)

Steve had left them a note, a new number where he could be reached, and it had taken three weeks before they came looking. Before they even noticed.

It isn’t a fight, in the end.

His parents are angry that he’d just up and left the house, but they’re much less so when he explains everything he’d set in place before he’d gone.

They want to know if he’ll be asking them for anything else after this (not if he’s safe, not if he’s happy, just if he’s going to keep being a burden).

He tells them no.

And that’s– that’s it.

That’s it.

His mom tells him they’ll call him around Christmas, let him know if they’ll be in town, and then his parents just let him go.

They get up and they leave his living room and they leave his home and they leave Steve’s life and they leave and they don’t look back and they– well, they’d left a long time ago, hadn’t they? A long, long time ago.

Steve is sitting at the end of Eddie’s bed (his and Eddie’s bed, now, their bed; Steve’s still getting used to that, but in a good way), feeling the sort of empty he hasn’t felt since he was seventeen. He’s just sort of staring at the carpet, and then he’s staring at Eddie’s ridiculous polka dot socks as Eddie steps in front of him.

“Hey,” Eddie says softly. “You, uh… okay?”

It’s kind of a ridiculous question – the answer is obvious, and Eddie clearly knows that, but it’s a way to start a conversation without shouting, “Your parents are ungrateful pieces of shit who never appreciated you,” like he probably wants to (and has before), and Steve appreciates his restraint.

He nods a little, stops, shrugs.

“I kind of thought I was over this,” he says. “Over feeling… left behind by them. Shouldn’t still hurt, right?”

“It’s– it’s okay if it does. It’s shit, Steve. They’re shit,” Eddie says (yep, Steve called it). “You’re allowed to be hurt.”

Steve shrugs again.

“It’s funny,” he says, even though it isn’t, “but I used to wonder how long it would take them to notice if I died.”

He’d never had an active plan, really, though there had been plenty of ways around the house to accomplish the task. He’d never really even looked at it as being suicidal, just angry and bitter and lonely. He hadn’t felt miserable all the time, hadn’t felt like there was nothing in the world worth living for – it’s not like he’d been depressed, it had just been a wild, almost satisfying thought that occurred from time to time. The ultimate way to prove a point. To make them see.

And if the urge got too strong, and his head got too full, and his chest felt too hollow, and the house felt too empty, he’d just go out and find something to do. Simple as that.

“I wondered if it would only be a day or two, or if they would come home, like, weeks later and find what was left of me just… floating in the pool or rotting in the bathtub or some shit. And I guess I just got my answer.” He laughs, managing to sound completely humorless even in the attempt, and glances up at Eddie. “Three weeks. How decomposed do you think I’d be by now?”

Except Eddie doesn’t pick up the bit. He’s just staring at Steve, wide-eyed, cheeks a little red, eyes a little wet, and – shit.

“Shit, Ed, I didn’t–”

“Don’t,” Eddie cuts in, voice thick with a shaking kind of intensity, “say shit like that. Fucking don’t ever– Steve–”

“No, Eddie, I’m sorry, I haven’t thought about that in years, this whole thing with my parents, it just… it reminded me, that’s all,” Steve says, even if that isn’t strictly true.

He’s thought about it plenty, he just hasn’t really had the urge to follow through since the first time he took a bat to a demogorgon’s head. He’d traded that empty feeling for one of purpose, of knowing he was needed, and had readily put himself between everyone else and the danger they were facing, because at least that way he filled a space.

(Maybe he’d traded it a little too easily. Maybe there isn’t a lot of difference between using yourself as bait to lure in a demodog and thinking about where all the sharp things are in the house. Maybe that’s something Steve doesn’t need to unpack right now.)

Eddie stumbles forwards, reaching out and cupping Steve’s face in his hands, angling him upwards so Eddie fills his field of vision.

“I would notice,” Eddie says firmly. “I would notice.”

“I– I know you would, Eddie. I told you–”

“Robin would notice. Dustin – all those little shits we hang out with, both Wheelers, Wayne, fuckin’ Byers– we would notice right away, Steve, I swear to fuck, we would,” Eddie goes on, and something is suddenly sticking in Steve’s throat.

“I– I know,” Steve manages to choke out, and shit, why are his eyes wet now? He’s never cried over this feeling before, and it should be too fucking late to start now – except with everything happening, with his parents, with the way Eddie is staring at him like he’s about to disappear–

Eddie bends one leg up until he’s got a knee to one side of Steve’s hip, half-kneeling over him without boxing him in because he knows Steve can’t stand that, and he rests his weight there so he can lean in and press his lips to Steve’s forehead, kissing him, murmuring against the skin like he’s praying.

“We see you, baby.”

And that one hurts.

It fucking aches, like Eddie has somehow managed to reach back four years and jam a thumb into the bruise seventeen-year-old Steve had constantly been carrying under his ribs, and Steve of right now reaches out and grabs Eddie’s shirt and thinks for a moment that he wants to shove him away, but his next breath heaves out like a sob and he can only pull Eddie closer.

“We see you,” Eddie says again, soft but unignorable, before he presses another kiss to Steve’s forehead.

Yeah, Steve thinks, you see right through me.

It’s a terrifying feeling, and Steve wants to swallow it up and keep inside of him where he can feel it forever. He nods against Eddie’s lips, sucking in a sharp breath so he can speak again.

“Okay,” Steve says, clutching more tightly to Eddie’s shirt. “Okay.”

He closes his eyes against the unwanted tears and lets himself feel, instead – the warmth of Eddie over and around him, the near bruising grip Eddie still has on his jaw, the softness of his lips against his forehead, and he thinks that this is what he’d been searching for, all those years ago.

He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this wanted, and somehow he doubts he’ll ever have to worry about going without it again.

[Prompt: Forehead kisses]

[ghosts-and-glory]

is there anyone in the cult that is special to the lamb?

Yes they’ve had three partners.

Uh I’ve never drawn Ratau before so if he wildly changes later that’s what’s up. Take a wild guess what my favourite colour is, you’ll never know.

Y’all need to know in my game Nobre watched me tell another follower “No I won’t feed that guy poop just cause you asked.” To which Nobre IMMEDIATELY rolled up to me and was like “hey could you feed that guy poop for me?” And I said yes cause he’s my favourite little guy and could get away with murder.

Also comic expanding on how Anubis died here.

Rambling about these three under the cut.

Nobre (He/Him)

American Akita and Puar’s older brother. Both siblings share a red birthmark on their forehead. He is The Lamb’s first ever follower, the first person they saved from being put to the blade as they where.

Nagre (He/She)

White tail deer and another very early follower of the lamb. She’s a very skilled navigator and always accompanies The Lamb on crusades. He and Nobre are also very close and married.

Anubis (She/Her)

Dutch Shepherd who died on a crusade to the Silk Cradle. She was saved from Anura by The Lamb and absolved of sin after destroying her home village. In her life she was a highly skilled assassin and The Lamb’s personal guard.

[leonstoenailunderhisbed]

Cupid doesn’t gamble

Summary: Leon, a mafia boss whose empire dominates all casinos on the west coast, meets a young girl amidst a game of poker. What would happen if he threw all his chips and gambled his love for you?

Warning: Mafia!Boss!Leon x Female!Reader. Eventual smut (I know y’all want this so bad). Slow burn. Romantic. Leon is a gentleman. Characters are 21+ (makes sense for casinos). Researched topics. Mentions of violence. Read at your own discretion.

Word Count: 6,620

A/N: So, I’d like to start off with saying that being in the Mafia is not okay. Al Capone was NOT a good guy. But, this is fiction. None of this is real so before I get myself canceled (pls don’t) trust that I did my research. I thought of Salvatore by LDR writing this lol.

[II] [III]

“The summer's wild and I've been waiting for you all this time I adore you, can't you see, you're meant for me. Summer's hot but I've been cold without you, I was so wrong not to doubt your Medellin, tangerine dreams,” - Salvatore, Lana Del Rey

Poker isn’t just a game of gambling and betting your money away. It’s intimate and personal, in order to win you must read your opponent. Strip each other bare until the other shows a sign of vulnerability, only then will you find a loophole and win.

But nobody seems to understand the arts of chips and card decks. To be given an awful hand and turning the game to your favor is powerful and uplifting. There is great danger with gambling but there are also great rewards.

Leon was a famous man, known for establishing the most successful casinos of, dare I say, the nation. He’s a businessman, driven by the need to make a statement of himself. To hold power over people’s head with a flick of the wrist. He’s ambitious, cunning, but also respectful.

Coming from nothing but rags and the slum, he swore to his parents that he will earn everything he ever wanted in life. To provide for his family, to become one of the richest and notorious men of America. And he did.

He easily became a member of the mafia after being taken under the care of a kind man. When his parents died and he was shunned away by society, he never expected a man from a dangerous world to take him as a child and teach him to become the man that he is today.

And now here he was, engaging himself in a long hour of poker with a rookie player. You’ve never been keen on gambling your savings away, you deterred yourself from gaining the addiction. But, you did like to play every once in a while, especially since the casino you were in was quite lavish, courtesy of the man who built the casino in the first place.

You didn’t know anything about it, you didn’t even know that the man in front of you was the very own man who built his life step by step.

"You're good with your hands," he said in a rich and low tone as he stared at you from across the table.

“Thanks,” you muttered as you moved on forward with the game. You glanced at him, narrowing your eyes as you tried to guess what he was going to move with tonight.

A low, amused chuckle escaped his lips as he continued to watch you analyze him. He knew damn well you had no clue how to play, yet you were trying your best. It's what drew him to you.

He noticed you stealing glances his way as you thought of a plan. *Adorable.* He leaned back into his seat, eyeing you closely as he waited for you to make your next move.

"You're a bad bluffer," he pointed out with a smirk.

“And you’re a talker,” you quipped back with sass. You were silent for a moment before you decided to either go big or go home, “Raise,” you said to him.

Your eyes were glued to him, watching for his reaction. Was he going to fold or call? Either way, you believed you had a better hand than him.

"And you're cocky, too," he returned with a hint of humor in his voice. He raised an eyebrow slightly, surprised by your bold move. Even if you didn't know how to play, you had some guts.

He studies you for a moment, his eyes lingering on you before returning to his cards. After a moment of contemplating, he pushes a stack of chips forward, adding to the pot.

"Call. Let's see what you've got," he challenges you with a sly smile.

You turned your cards over, revealing a Diamond Queen and Clover King. You put them down and crossed your arms over your chest as you looked at him with a smirk.

The bet was a high number of money. Probably worth more than your limbs being sold in the black market. But you were here for a reason, to earn some quick money. The man in front of you looked quite wealthy, wealthy and rich men weren’t uncommon in this place but it still made you feel a bit inferior with everyone wanting to show off.

Leon leaned forward, inspecting your cards closely. The smirk on your face said it all. You thought you had a good hand, and he wouldn't deny that you had a decent one. But, it wasn't enough to beat him. He leaned back into his seat once more, his expression unchanging, as he revealed his own cards. A Spade Queen and a Diamond Ace. A straight flush. His eyes met yours, his smirk turning into a cocky grin.

"I'm afraid you've lost this round, darling," he said in a teasing tone.

Your smirk immediately fell as you saw his straight flush. Wow, you lost again. You didn’t even notice him calling you by a pet name. Did you owe this man money now? How did you not see it coming? That bastard was cocky and confident as hell! You should’ve known he had a good hand.

Leon chuckled once again. The look on your face was priceless—a mix of frustration and disbelief.

He loved it.

"Looks like I win again," he said teasingly, gathering up the chips on the table, "And don't worry, darling, you don't owe me anything. Just better luck next time."

He leaned back in his seat, his gaze still fixed on you as he smirked. He found your reaction absolutely adorable.

You furrowed your brows confused, you didn’t owe him anything? “Wait, are you serious?” You asked confusedly. He was different from other guys around here. Was he really willing to forget about your loss and even wished you better luck?

Who was this guy? There was something about him, though, that seemed dangerous and suspicious, “Why?”

Leon tilted his head to the side as he observed you, noticing the confusion on your face. You were clearly surprised by his words. It seems like you’re *not* used to men like him.

He chuckled softly at your question. "Why? Because I'm a gentleman," he responds with a smirk.

He leaned forward slightly, his gaze never leaving your face, "And I'm not in the business of taking money from pretty young girls like yourself. I'm not that heartless."

Your cheeks flared, did he just say you were pretty? You’ve never met a man so… straightforward. You cleared your throat and nibbled on your bottom lip, “Thank you,” you muttered quietly. Leon's gaze softened as he watched your cheeks flush and saw you bite your bottom lip. *Adorable.*

He’s a gentleman, he’s not *that* heartless? You didn’t understand him. He wore expensive clothes and his aura was confident.

“Is there anything else you’d like in return?” You asked as you looked at him, your arms on the table, “I’d feel guilty if you went back home empty handed.”

He leaned back in his seat, a smirk on his lips. "There is... one thing," he replied, his voice low and smooth.

He paused for a moment, his eyes locking with yours once more. "Your name," he said simply, his smile widening, "I'd like to know your name."

You stared at him for a few moments before you nodded slightly, “Okay,” you muttered. You extended your hand towards him, “My name is Y/n,” you said softly. He was truly a gentleman, wasn’t he? He doesn’t take money from girls and he was respectful. He’s one of a kind.

Leon looked at your hand for a moment before taking it gently in his own. His rough, calloused fingers wrapped around your small, soft hand. He loved the contrast between your skin and his. The way your slender fingers fit perfectly in his grasp.

"Y/n," he repeated quietly, as if he was testing the way the name felt on his tongue. He let out a soft chuckle before bringing your hand to his lips. He placed a gentle kiss on your knuckles, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your cheeks flushed even more red when he kissed your knuckles. Did he come out of a book or something?! You’ve never met a man that screamed rich and respectful man. It was attractive. You were a bit speechless. Most guys met wouldn’t even be bothered to know your name and yet, here he was, treating you like a lady. Did he time travel or something?

You didn’t even try to move your hand away, it was like you got stuck in a trance. He was an enigma, who knew your poker opponent was so… you didn’t even know how to describe it. He chuckled softly at your reaction. He wasn't surprised, after all, most men don't have manners these days. Not men like him.

He slowly released your hand, though he couldn't bring himself to completely let go just yet. He continued to hold onto it, his thumb gently caressing your knuckles.

“Can I know your name too?” You asked a bit hesitantly, you wanted to know but you didn’t want to seem disrespectful. He felt so fancy, like a true gentleman. The kind of man you read in romance books where you could only dream of being treated with such care.

"Of course, darling," he replied in a low tone, his gaze still fixated on your face. He could tell that you were completely taken by him, though he couldn't blame you, most girls were. He could tell that you were captivated by his mannerisms and demeanor. It seemed like you appreciated his old-fashioned actions and chivalry, not that he was surprised. But something told him that you were different than the others. You weren't just after his wealth or status, he could see it in your eyes.

In the game of poker, it was easy to fall and lose. But for some reason, you like playing with him even if it means losing most of the rounds.

You didn’t even notice the two bodyguards approaching him from behind since you didn’t know what his occupation was like. You were strangers. The two bodyguards were ready to jump into action if you tried anything suspicious. But what could you do? You were completely harmless.

As his bodyguards approached from behind, Leon glanced over his shoulder at them. He held up a hand, silently signaling for them to hold off. The bodyguards stood a few feet away, far enough to not listen to your conversation but close enough to jump to him if he got into a dangerous situation. Leon's lips curled into an amused smile as he watched you realize the presence of his bodyguards. They were there to protect him, after all.

"My name is Leon," he finally replied, his voice just above a whisper. "Leon Kennedy."

“Leon,” you repeated, tasting the way it rolled off your tongue. It was a fancy name, suiting him very well.

“Nice to meet you, Mister Kennedy,” you said politely. Leon suppressed a chuckle as you repeated his name, the sound of it on your lips was like music to his ears. It was as if you were singing his name, rather than simply saying it.

He smirked when you called him 'Mister Kennedy,' finding your use of a formal title both amusing and endearing. "Please, call me Leon. 'Mister Kennedy' makes me feel old," he teased, his voice low and smooth.

You couldn’t help the small smile from reaching your lips, just minutes ago he beat you in a game of poker and yet, he didn’t make you feel bad for losing. You nodded at him, “Alright, I won’t.”

Then, one of the two bodyguards approached Leon, leaning down to his ear to whisper, “Sir, your presence is being requested on the tenth floor,” he whispered. Leon's expression, although unchanging, darkened at the bodyguard's words. He knew exactly what it meant for his presence to be "requested" on the tenth floor. But he didn't want to leave just yet. He was enjoying the time he had with you, he was enjoying your company and your sweet demeanor. If only he could stay a little bit longer.

He nodded at the bodyguard, silently signaling that he understood. He looked back at you, his expression softening once again.

"I have business to attend to," he said quietly, a hint of regret in his voice.

“Oh, right, yeah,” you muttered quickly under your breath as you stood up, fixing your outfit that you were wearing, “I shouldn’t take more of your time,” you said softly and politely, “It was nice meeting you, Leon. I hope to play with you in the future.”

Leon looked up at you as you stood up, his gaze following every movement. He could feel his heart skip a beat, he found you truly adorable. He felt a pang of disappointment when you mentioned not taking up more of his time. But he understood, he had responsibilities to take care of.

"The pleasure was all mine, darling," he said quietly, his voice slightly strained. He didn't want you to leave, but he had no choice.

“Sir,” one bodyguard spoke up from behind him, “Should we keep an eye on her?” He asked as the bodyguard’s gaze remained on your form, you were already standing by the bar drinking a damn fountain drink.

It was clear that the bodyguards were good at their job, they wanted to keep Leon safe since he was a mafia boss and enemies could be everywhere. Leon's gaze shifted from yours as he focused on his bodyguard's question. He could sense the slight tension in the air, the bodyguards were always cautious. But that was their job, to protect him at all costs.

He shook his head slightly, "No, that won't be necessary," he replied coldly, "She's harmless," he added, his eyes fixated on you once more.

“Yes sir,” the bodyguard said before the two bodyguards began to escort Leon to the elevator to get to the tenth floor. As Leon walked towards the elevator, escorted by his bodyguards, he couldn't help but glance back one last time, his eyes settling on your form at the bar.

He felt a twinge of something, was it concern? He wasn't sure. The thought of you being approached by someone else made him uneasy. But he had to remind himself that you weren't his responsibility.

He stepped into the elevator, his mind still occupied with thoughts of you.

"Watch her," he muttered to his bodyguards, "make sure no one goes near her."

The bodyguard nodded before stepping out of the elevator and went over to watch from a distance to not scare me off.

He was left with the other bodyguard and as they reached the tenth floor, the doors opened to reveal a very expensive suite, “Ah, Leon,” the voice of a man rang as he approached Leon.

The man was no other than a guy that went by an alias, “Kyle”, for safety reasons, “Glad you could make it,” he was dressed in nothing but a bathrobe, the belt tight around his waist to keep him from flashing anyone. Kyle was a character, that much was clear. Greeting Leon as if they were old friends.

"Cut the pleasantries," Leon replied coolly as he strode past Kyle, into the extravagant suite. Despite his cold exterior, his mind was still occupied by thoughts of you.

Kyle laughed and followed after Leon, “Always cutting to the chase, huh, amigo?” He said the Spanish word in a terrible accent, he didn’t even know Spanish.

Kyle was truly one of a kind but he was an ally to Leon’s mafia. Matter of fact, he provided Leon with the newest weapons from an Italian manufacturer. Illegal weapon trafficking.

“Got some new ladies you might want to see,” he said as he walked in front of Leon, guiding him to his room. As he entered his room, the sheets were messy and two naked women laid on the bed. With a flick of his wrist, the ladies stepped out of the room, giving Leon a wink.

As they entered the room, Leon couldn't help but roll his eyes at the sight of the naked women on the bed. Was this really necessary?

"I'm not interested," he said bluntly, his cold tone sending a clear message. Despite his outwardly tough demeanor, Leon disliked the lifestyle that Kyle embodied.

Kyle definitely had a typical lifestyle of a play boy, always finding girls to sleep with as he spends money on expensive champagne and clothes. But he was a good provider for the mafia. Kyle was needed; a necessary evil.

But Leon wasn’t a womanizer like that, especially with the way he treated you. Kyle chuckled and shook his head, “Oh, I think you will,” he muttered before I retrieved a box and opened it. Leon's expression changed. The sight of the new weapons in the box piqued his interest.

“Got these new ladies fresh from Rome,” he said, revealing new manufactured guns, “These are in beta testing but their purpose isn’t like regular guns—no. These babies hold up to thrice the ammunition and can fire double bullets at the same time.”

He could already see the potential these guns held. The extra ammunition and the ability to fire double bullets at once could give his men an advantage in a dangerous situation.

"Interesting," he said quietly, his eyes fixed on the guns. Despite his dislike for Kyle's lifestyle, Leon had to admit he knew how to source the best weapons.

"How did you get your hands on these?" he asked, his voice now lacking any hostility.

Kyle shrugged and leaned back, “I sent a blueprint last month over to my manufacturer in Italy. Said he’d give it a try. He experimented here and there right before he sent me these prototypes.”

“But I don’t recommend using them yet,” he said as he walked over to stand next to Leon, draping an arm around Leon’s shoulders as if they were best friends.

“Something about them probably not working and backfiring. Blah, blah, blah. You know the nerd stuff,” he said.

Leon's brow furrowed as he heard Kyle's words. Using untested weapons could be risky, especially if they had the potential for a devastating recoil. He pushed Kyle's arm off his shoulders, his expression turning cold again. He wasn't fond of being touched, especially by someone like Kyle.

"Then why show them to me if they might not work?" he asked with a hint of irritation in his voice. He preferred to focus on proven weapons, not experimental ones.

As his arm was pushed off his shoulders, Kyle wasn’t a bit ashamed, “Well, before we proceed with the testing, we needed your approval.”

Then, Kyle grew a bit serious, which only ever happened once a fortnight. He leaned closer to Leon to whisper in his ear, “I’ve heard that there’s been recent suspicious activity up north where the colony is. This is just a precaution because I don’t want anyone stealing my guns.”

Ever since Leon became the new mafia boss, which was years ago, many other bosses have tried to take him down. Even if it meant stealing his resources. Despite his disdain for Kyle, Leon couldn't ignore the serious look on his face. He knew that when Kyle spoke like this, he wasn't messing around.

"Suspicious activity, you say?" he replied, his voice low and calculating. He didn't appreciate being targeted, especially by other mafia bosses, "Any idea who might be behind it?"

He shrugged and shook his head, “No, there’s no idea who it might be but I’ve heard rumors that it’s someone who’s after your territory.”

Kyle sighed and stored the guns away once more, “In any case. Call me up if you change your plan, I’ll send word to Italy to keep producing and testing. Until then,” he said before he patted Leon on the shoulder and walked out of his room saying, “Alright, ladies, who’s ready for some sexy time on the jacuzzi?”

Leon watched as Kyle left the room, rolling his eyes at the man's behavior. Despite Kyle's eccentricities and playboy lifestyle, he couldn't deny that he was an asset to the mafia. As the sound of laughter and splashing water came from the jacuzzi, Leon turned his attention back to the matter at hand. The possibility of someone targeting his territory unsettled him.

With a deep sigh, he ran a hand through his hair, his thoughts once again drifting to you. He couldn't seem to get you off his mind.

“Do you want to go back to the main floor, Sir?” His bodyguard asked. Leon's eyes went to his bodyguard, and he nodded.

"Yes," he said simply. He had to go back to the main floor. He knew that his bodyguards had been instructed to keep an eye on you, and he was curious to see if you were still there.

As he stepped out of the room, he couldn't help but glance over at the bar. He could see you sitting there, sipping on a Dr. Pepper. Despite the presence of his bodyguard, he took a subtle step closer, watching you from a distance.

Now the three men were watching you, Leon with his two bodyguards behind him. They were no longer on the tenth floor and instead were on the main floor where you were.

“Who is she, boss?” One bodyguard asked. They had seen Leon play with you for a few rounds but they didn’t hear your conversation. Of how he forgave your debt and asked for your name, but they did see him kiss your hand. Leon's gaze never left you, his eyes watching your every move. He could feel the curiosity of his bodyguards, they had clearly noticed his interaction with you.

“Do you know her?” The other bodyguard asked. They still kept professional but their curiosity was high. They’ve never seen Leon talk to a woman before, he’d usually brush them off because he knew they were after his money.

"She's nobody," Leon replied, his voice cold and distant. Even though he had shown you a rare moment of humanity, he didn’t want his bodyguards to think he had a “soft spot”, especially towards a stranger.

"She's just a poker player, that's all," he added, dismissing their curiosity. But his eyes told a different story, he couldn't tear his gaze away from you.

“A terrible one,” one commented, “A Diamond queen and clover king against your straight flush… she’s got confidence.”

“Or maybe she didn’t know. Our boss holds a really good poker face,” the other replied. Which was true, Leon was a damn good poker player but you also didn’t play like a professional. You barely knew what you were doing.

You turned around to get your bag from the stool next to your standing form, seemingly finished with your drink and getting ready to pay for it.

Leon's eyes followed your every movement, his mind racing, "She was a challenge,” he said quietly, his voice betraying a hint of amusement. Despite your lack of skill, he had enjoyed playing with you, it had been surprisingly fun.

As he saw you turn to retrieve your bag, he felt a strange pang in his chest. He didn’t want you to leave yet. He took a step forward, his bodyguards following closely behind him.

You were too busy looking through your bag, pulling out your wallet and counting the bills you had to pay your tab. Would it even be considered a tab if you got non-alcoholic drinks? You didn’t notice Leon returning at all, his bodyguards didn’t say anything. They knew better than to prod at his life choices. If anything, they’d just keep a more careful eye on you to make sure nothing bad happened.

“Hold on—“ you said to the bartender as you counted your coins to give him the exact number of your total.

As you began counting your coins to pay the bartender, he couldn't help but step forward and reach into his pocket, "I'll cover it," he said, his voice firm and commanding. He felt strangely compelled to take care of you, even in this small gesture.

You straightened up at the sound of his voice, your heart jumped and beat quickly as you whipped your head to look at none other than Leon. Always a true gentleman.

“I—“ you said as yoi looked at him and the bartender before you looked back at his blue eyes, “No, it’s okay. I’ve got this,” you said quietly. He’d already forgiven your debt and now he wants to pay for your drinks?

Leon's expression remained stoic as he heard your protest. He didn't expect you to be so modest and determined to pay for your own drinks. But he found it endearing.

"It's not a problem," he replied, his voice firm. He could sense your guilt, but he didn’t want you to feel like a charity case. He genuinely wanted to take care of you, even if it was in small ways. He slid a few bills to the bartender, paying for your drinks and closing the tab before you could argue further.

Your cheeks blushed again as you looked away, you’ve never had anyone take care of you like he has, “You’re too kind,” you muttered in a flustered tone.

He was already breaking his own rules because the bodyguards seemed to have picked up on some details. It wasn’t common for them to see Leon be so… interested in a woman. Much less someone like you but they found it oddly endearing. Secretly cheering for their boss.

Leon was taller than you so you had to look up at him, “Did everything go well with your business?” You asked genuinely. Leon's expression softened slightly as he saw your flushed cheeks and your sincere question. He was unused to caring about someone’s well being, but he found himself wanting to share a bit with you.

"Yes, business went well," he confirmed, his voice remaining cool and collected. But there was a hint of tiredness in his eyes, the stresses of being a mafia boss often taking a toll on him.

He studied you for a moment, his gaze calculating but not unkind. "And how have you been?" he asked, surprising himself with his own question.

“Oh, you know,” you faintly shrugged your shoulders as you pointed towards the bar, “I stayed there the whole time. I don’t like wandering on my own. Lots of… creeps out here, y’know?”

But he wasn’t a creep. He was far from it. Leon was a gentleman, a man who knew how to treat women right.

Leon chuckled, a rare sound coming from him, at your straightforward answer. He found it refreshing how honest you were, unlike the fake smiles and flattery he usually received from people.

His eyes swept the casino floor, full of various people, men, and women. He knew you were right about the creeps that roamed around, especially with a pretty face like yours.

"You're right about the creeps," he agreed, his voice low and protective. "A pretty thing like you shouldn’t be out here alone."

Your cheeks blushed again when he said you were pretty, why was he so casual with the compliments?! But nevertheless, you couldn’t stop the smile forming on your lips, “Yeah… I was about to leave since it was getting late, actually,” you said as you quickly remembered what you were doing.

“I was going to get an Uber and go back home. I should probably practice my poker skills too,” you said with a small smile. Leon's gaze darkened slightly at the mention of you leaving. He didn't want this night to end, not when he'd enjoyed your company more than he thought he would.

He took a step closer, shortening the distance between you. "An Uber?" he repeated, his voice taking on a hint of disapproval. "With all the creepers out there?"

He paused, seeming to consider something before speaking again. "Let me give you a ride home," he offered, his eyes never leaving yours.

Your eyes widened a bit and your breath hitched when he stepped closer to you and offered you a ride home. You should’ve said no but for some reason, you felt safe in his presence. You slowly nodded your head, feeling like you shouldn’t reject his offer. He’s been kind to you and you wanted to be kind as well, “Only if it’s not a burden.”

“I’d hate to shift your plans for the night. I don’t want to be an inconvenience,” you said with a nervous laugh as you played with your hands.

Leon couldn't help but chuckle at your words and the nervousness in your laugh. You were clearly unused to being cared for like this, but it was almost endearing to see you flustered. He shook his head, his expression serious. "It's not a burden," he reassured you. "And you're not an inconvenience. I wouldn't offer unless I meant it."

He motioned for his bodyguards to follow as he put a hand gently on your lower back, beginning to guide you towards the exit. You gathered your things, which was just your purse, and let him guide you towards the exit. His bodyguards were shocked to say the least. They knew Leon didn’t like to be touched or touch other people but here he was, gently putting his hand on you to guide you out of the building. They were in for a fun ride.

As you made it out and stepped outside, you were met with wind. The wind blew over your form, goosebumps on your skin as you wrapped your arms over your chest to give yourself some heat. Leon noticed your body shiver, the cool night air obviously getting to you. He was so used to suppressing his own physical needs that he had briefly forgotten that you weren’t built for the harsher elements like he was.

"Here," he said gruffly. He removed his black jacket and gently placed it around your shoulders, his fingers lingering for a moment on the fabric.

The black suit jacket was big on you but it was so warm, it even smelled like his cologne and you felt your cheeks flare up. He smelled good, “Thank you,” you said as you looked up at him.

A black car pulled in front of you, it was fancy and the black was matte. No doubt, the latest car. Just how rich was he? One of the bodyguards moved towards the door and opened it for the two of you. Leon nodded in acknowledgement of your thanks, his eyes never leaving yours, "After you," he said, gesturing for you to get into the car first. His voice was gruff, but there was a warm undertone in it.

He waited, standing by the car door, until you climbed in, before he slid into the seat beside you, closing the door behind him. The bodyguards climbed into the front seat, the engine purring softly to life.

No one would’ve believed them if they said that Leon was warm and kind. They’ve seen the type of ruthless man he could be, he was a mafia boss! Hence why the bodyguards were shocked. They’ve never seen him act this way with anyone.

You sat next to Leon, your thighs pressed together and your form still wearing his black suit jacket, “Thank you,” you said before you climbed to sit next to him. You were new to the whole taken care of thing. Leon felt a pang of something unfamiliar in his chest when you thanked him again. It was as if you weren’t used to being treated like this, but he found himself wanting to give you more. He felt the strange urge to wrap you in his arms, to keep you close and away from the world.

He let out a low hum of acknowledgment. "You don’t need to keep thanking me," he said quietly, his voice low and rough.

You softy laughed at his words despite his low and rough voice, “Sorry, force of habit. I’m not used to people being so kind to me. Especially after playing Poker with me,” you replied with a small but genuine smile.

“Most guys would either just get mad at me for beating them or they would humiliate me further for beating me,” you said quietly, your hands laying on your lap as you looked down at them.

Then you glanced back at him, “But you’re different. I think… I like to have you as my opponent… if you’d let me,” but it was more than just Poker, right? It was about connecting, about seeing him again. His expression softened as you spoke again, a small smirk tugging at the corners of his lips, "You like having me as your opponent, huh?" he said, his voice holding a hint of amusement.

He reached out, his hand gently resting on top of yours, his touch calloused but surprisingly gentle, "You don’t even know what you’re asking for."

Your breath hitched and you looked down at his hand on top of yours. Even though he’d held your hand and kissed it, you still got flustered.

But he was right. Essentially, you didn’t even know him. You met him today and lost a poker game. But something in you wanted to keep seeing him, you didn’t want to let such a kind man go.

“I can learn,” you whispered. This went beyond poker, even though you spoke about it, hidden words were conveyed. You didn’t know what you were asking for, not knowing he was in the mafia. Leon's smirk grew at your words, a hint of something more behind it. He could hear the double meaning in your words, and it sent a thrill through him. Here you were, this timid, pretty thing, wanting to get to know him better.

His fingers gently squeezed your hand as he spoke, his voice low. "You’re a fast learner, I bet," he said, his eyes never leaving yours.

But then his expression darkened slightly, the reality of his world intruding on the moment. He was a mafia boss, and you… you were innocent and pure.

You nodded, “I like learning things. Knowledge is power, is what George Orwell said once,” you muttered. Leon's smirk turned into a half-smile at your mention of George Orwell. This girl was full of surprises. It seemed to him that you were more than just a pretty face working as a pit boss.

His grip on your hand tightened slightly, as if reflexively trying to keep a grip on you. He knew he shouldn’t be doing this, he should let you go before you get swept into the dangerous world he lived in.

But something about you was making him greedy. The Mafia Boss never had to worry about letting go before, now, he didn’t want to.

You felt his hand tighten around yours and you didn’t want to let go yet. Once you reached your apartment, you looked at him and leaned towards his face to whisper, “Think it over,” you whispered, your brows furrowing a bit before you let go of his hand and got out of the car.

Leon's eyes widened slightly at your whisper, your unexpected boldness sending a jolt of surprise, and something else through him. You'd just told him to think things over, as if it was a date that you were asking him on. But before he could open his mouth to reply, you had already slipped out of the car, leaving him a bit taken aback.

He stayed sitting in his seat for a beat, his fingers clenching the leather, his eyes fixed on your figure. You were playing with fire, and you didn’t even realize it.

You were about to walk into your apartment when you realized you were still wearing his suit jacket. You quickly ran back towards the car and slipped it the jacket off, giving him an awkward smile, “I, uh…”

“Almost forgot this,” you muttered softly, the pink hue on your cheeks not leaving any time soon. Leon took the jacket in his hands, his gaze lingering on you as you handed it to him. He took in your flushed cheeks, your awkward smile, and it sent a pang through his chest.

He wanted to reach out, to touch your cheek, to do something to keep you from leaving. But instead, he simply folded the jacket over his arm, his fingers tracing the fabric.

"Keep it," he said, his voice rough. "It looks better on you."

Your eyes widened a bit and your lips parted into a small ‘Oh’ when he gave you the jacket once more. To which you slowly took, you didn’t want to be greedy but you loved the way it smelled.

“Thank you,” you whispered sincerely, “For tonight.”

The offer still stood. You were willing to throw yourself down into a fire if it meant getting to know him better. Isn’t that what Poker is about? To understand your opponent? But this wasn’t about Poker anymore.

Leon clenched his jaw as he watched your expression, your sincere thanks only making it harder for him to let you go. Your naivete was like a double-edged sword - it drew him in but also made him hesitant.

But he wasn’t some saint. No, far from it. He was a Mafia Boss, and he wasn’t used to denying himself.

He leaned forward slightly, his eyes locking with yours, his voice a rough, quiet murmur. “When can I see you again?”

You stared at him through the window, a bit surprised that he wanted to see you again. You were just some idiot poker player and yet… was he actually considering seeing you again?

You stood there in shock for a few seconds like an absolute idiot before you realized you hadn’t said anything. Your cheeks flushed and you quickly cleared your throat, “Uh—“

He paused, his eyes roaming over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your uncertainty. It was a new sight for him, having a woman so clearly out of his world be so... vulnerable.

“You want to see me again?” You asked unsure. Leon’s lips quirked up into a small smirk at your reaction, your surprise and confusion only endearing you to him more. You were just so damn endearing. He leaned back in his seat, his eyes never leaving yours, his gaze sharp, “Yes, I want to see you again.”

“Well, I’m free this Saturday… if you want to—I dunno—go out…?”

“Saturday it is, then. I’ll pick you up at seven.”

This time, you couldn’t help the smile that reached your lips. Was he truly taking you out on a date? You nodded your head at him, your lips curling up into a genuine smile, “Alright…” you muttered quietly, “I’ll see you then. You know where I live anyway.”

He offered you a ride and now knows where you lived, but somehow, you felt comfortable with him knowing, “Goodnight, Leon.”

You walked backwards, looking at him for as long as possible before eventually turning around to get into your apartment. Leon watched as you retreated back into your apartment, his gaze following your every move. There was a strange flutter in his chest, something that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Something that he thought he had lost.

When you disappeared from sight, he let out a low, rough exhale, running his hand through his short hair. This was dangerous, getting close to you, but he couldn’t seem to find it in himself to care.

“Goodnight, doll,” he murmured, watching your door close behind you.

[panlight]

Really is wild when you start to think about what other characters went through during the course of the books that just . . . doesn't matter all that much.

Alice found out how/why she was turned, that she had been hunted by James and a vampire who cared about her turned her to save her and then died protecting her. That's a lot. And then in New Moon she finds out her father had her committed to an asylum and the date on her supposed gravestone matches the date on the admission papers. Also a lot. I guess with this one you can sort of handwave it with "she doesn't remember any of it though so maybe that's why it doesn't affect her much."

Then there's Leah and Seth, who lose their dad, and that's like, hardly a thing other than a) allows for the "funeral" miscommunication and b) makes Sue single so she can take care of Charlie while Bella's off blissfully vampiring. Seth is happy and sunny and sweet pretty much 100% of the time, and Leah's issues are all attributed to the Sam/Emily drama rather than, oh, I don't know, the shock of her phasing into a wolf causing her father's fatal heart attack. The guilt she must feel about that even though it's not at all her fault!

Then there's the Cullens in general dealing with having to hunt down and kill James; having to deal with Edward running away and nearly dying in Volterra; being under the threat of the Volturi because of Edward's misadventure in Italy; having to fight to the death against a bunch of newborns; and facing off against the Volturi. They presumably have been living in peace since whenever it was Maria had shown up in Calgary and then in the space of like a year and a half just complete and utter chaos, and all they can say about it is like, "we're so grateful you saved Edward, Bella!"

Quil, watching all his friends join this mysterious 'cult' and being left out and confiding in Bella about it. Sam dealing with All Of It when he wasn't even supposed to be the Alpha. Embry realizing he's the half-brother of one of these guys and probably searching for that belonging but knowing it could throw the community and families into chaos.

And then there's the pregnancy. Only Rosalie gets to have any feelings about it really and again, it's mostly so she can be Bella's bodyguard and less about Rosalie herself. But Esme has also longed for motherhood and sure she "makes do" with her Cullen kids, but they were all essentially adults when she adopted them. But more importantly she actually HAS been pregnant and HAS had a baby and LOST said baby. She also crushed hard on a vampire when she was a teenager, and now she's watching Bella getting to have a child with the vampire she loves when it's impossible for Esme herself and surely surely surely this would bring up some complicated feelings. But we get nothing. Like, literally nothing from Esme, she might as well not be in the book. She just existed to renovate the cottage.

Then there's Carlisle, whose mother died in childbirth from his normal human birth, watching his new daughter-in-law dying from a pregnancy and listening to his first and most beloved son say how he could never love the creature, his own child, if it kills Bella, and probably looking back on his own fraught relationship with his father and reliving that same resentment from the POV of the 'creature that killed the mother' and again, nothing. Not a factor. No one even mentions it in passing.

And like yes, I know, it's a YA romance, it's Not That Deep, it's about a girl falling in love with a vampire and finding wish fulfillment fantasy in that. I know. Everything else is just set dressing and not given any depth at all because it's not the point. But man, there's SO much there in the little throwaway details and unexplored backstories, and I fully believe that's what is fueling a large part of the fandom to this day.

[fandomlit]

gif cred belongs to @entertainmentgirl80

a/n so. guess who saw twisters

imagine tyler owens watching you sing

"you have to watch this chick!" lily grinned at tyler and boone as the lights of the bar dimmed and a band began to filter on stage. she pointed her beer to the center microphone. "she's a star."

tyler turned as the crowd of drunkards and sobers alike went wild as a woman stepped out from backstage with a grin on her face. she was gorgeous; from the way she walked, to the color of her eyes, to her cowboy boots. tyler couldn't help but lean back, admiring with the rest of the crowd. he was still staring before he noticed she was speaking into that center mic, the patrons hanging on her every word.

".. start the night with a classic," she was saying, still smiling easily as she turned to the drummer and nodded. the band knew exactly what to do, and the guitar kicked to life at once. he recognized the song almost immediately, having heard his own mother's voice sing the country classic accompanied by their old scratchy truck radio.

"i've been down with a broken heart since the day i learned to speak.. the devil gave me a crooked start when he gave me crooked feet.."

he was smirking without realizing, tapping his foot as she finished the first verse and the rest of the band kicked in.

she had her arms behind her back, stomping easily to the beat as she continued, "i found myself an omen and i tattooed on a sign, i sent my mind a wanderin' and i walk a broken line.." her eyes were easily looking around the crowd and tyler sat a little straighter when they swept over him. but then her eyes did a double-take back to his handsome grin, her held tilting so she was looking at him dead on. "you have a mind to keep me quiet, and although you can try.." tyler leaned forward in his seat, feeling a shiver dare to ghost his spine at her eyes. her grin crept back to her face, and she didn't dare break the electrifying eye contact as she shook her head and continued, "better man have hit their knees, and bigger men have died."

she turned back to the center, raising her hands as she belted, "i'm gonna raise, raise hell!"

"i know that look," lily spoke, just loud enough to be heard over the music as she eyed tyler. boone leaned toward her.

"what look?"

she smirked, "owens found his next storm to chase!"

[threepandas]

Bad End: Eve

You know how most Otome games are vaguely historical? Usually some non-specific mishmash of European countries? But fluffier and with more bows? It had once "gotten" to me, I think. I remember looking for outliers. Non-joke ones. Something that wasn't just "but this time with hats!"

I found one.

And now? Now I'm not sure if I curse that day or thank whatever force of nature lead me there. I guess... I guess it depends. Would I still have ended up HERE? If I had not found it? If so, then I genuinely and actually fucking rue it. Like... like actual "you'll rue the day! Bwahaha!" Type rue it. That's me. Ruing.

But? If it was always going to happen?

Then I guess...

I guess I'm weirdly glad. Because at least I have some fucking idea of what's going ON. Terrible, as it all is. Fucked, as the situation is. At least I'm not... not confused. Blind and at the mercy of those around me. Ignorance truely isn't bliss. All it does is leave you to try an fill in the blanks yourself. Usually with something far worse.

Not that the situation could GET much worse, by much.

I was in an Otome game. NOT a flower, high society, and dragons kind either. No. I? Was in a Dark Sci-Fi otome game. "Fate of man" was thrown around a lot. Power of luuuuv~ and such. Also, you know, HORRIFIC ethical violations. Human experimentation. Cataclysmic events and humanity "starting over".

All the high drama sci-fi concepts you could expect. It was a romp. Had good art. I'd had fun! Which is why I remember it so clearly.

Less fun when you're IN IT.

When you AREN'T one of the characters you KNOW will survive.

In fact, are one of the characters you know WON'T fucking survive. And will probably die MESSY. Horribly. Cause see, our BELOVED Harem collecting Protagonist? She? Was AN Eve. "AN".

Take a wild fucking guess what THAT project is about.

Did you say "breeding a better race of humans"? Ding ding ding! With humanity currently fucked, they want to FIX the problem by FIXING humanity. And of course, fuck ethics! Volunteers? Why use those?! Let's horrifically mad scientist our way to atrocity-ville! Make it all the more "God rightfully punishing us for our unforgivable sins" when we get wiped out!

Fffffffuck YOU, plot! I have to live here too!

You may, in fact, be picking up a slight note of stir crazy. A "wow, this lady rambles like a mother fucker" vibe. You would TOO, if you were stuck in a FUCKING TUBE. All I can do, day in and day out? Is wake, think, observe, then go right back to sleep. I can't even eat! I got a TUBE for that!

I... I miss showers.

Everything is GOO.

I'm an Eve. And if it weren't for the air tube controlng my breathing? I'd laughing hysterically until I died. And no, not in the "oh how funny" way. God. Oh... oh god. What a way to die. NONE of the Eves survive "the program".

Those IDIOTS are so OBSESSED with making bigger and bigger, better and better, FUCKING JUGGERNAUTS? That the Adams? Have long since reached the point of "mindless killing machine". UNSTABLE is putting it lightly. There is sexual dimorphism and then there's literal incompatibility.

But GOD FORBID the scientists admit that THEY are the ones with the inferior product.

It... it was even part of the game's plot. The scientist who made "Eve" HID her while HE made an Adam. I do not have that luxury. Somewhere, there is an unstable BESERKER being told I'm his "wife". That we're going to be HAPPY together. That he'll get to put his bruising, blood soaked hands anywhere he WANTS... just after he WINS me from the other Adam's.

Got to prove HE'S the best specimen, after all.

It makes my skin crawl. All I can hope, is that I can either provoke the bastard enough to kill me before they have a chance to stop him, or? I use my own enhanced strength to snap my neck. Maybe bite my tounge. Like HELL am I letting an Adam get near me.

The hiss of laboratory doors.

"Perfection at last..." Comes a relieved sigh. "All those HIDEOUS specimens. Why they make me suffer them, I'll never understand. We should have terminated them months ago. My poor project, they really think they're WORTHY of you..."

There's a derisive laugh. The scientist strolling into the lab I've been developing in, familiar. I watch him casually shrug off his lab coat and dump is bag. Hang his coat over the back of his chair. Turn, as he does each day, to STARE up at me. His eyes are a pale, pale purple the likes of which I've never seen before.

They're HAUNTING.

There is almost a red tint to them, though maybe that's the lights. The goo. I can never tell. He always looks ENTRANCED by me. Floating, visored, connected to far too many tubes an' wires. I'd think it was the fact that I was naked if it weren't for the way his gaze doesn't seem to drift lower then my shoulders. Seems more entranced by the way my hair moves, as though under water.

I've never once heard him talk about me lustfully.

But that doesn't mean he doesn't SCARE me.

"Let's begin, shall we? Time for your daily doses, mmm?" He says, voice dangerously affectionate. As though i had CHOSEN to do this to myself. As though he were merely reminding me of my morning medicine and not the hell ahout to come. "Going to be good for me? I know you shall, you always are."

He turned back to his desk, his computer. A few keystrokes... and I could feel the pod above me begin to hum, as it awoke. Oh god. Oh god it never got easier. From the corner of my eyes, bright chemicals slide down thind lines and into my veins. Like lines of lava. Bolts of electricity and pain. It was... AGONY.

My muscles seized. Brain screeched, first to the screaming I wish I could make... then static. With the long practice of daily pain, it took me far away. The click, click, click of keys. The sound of his voice, so terribly PLEASED, as I hung there and just TOOK it. No restraints, no strugging, no damaging myself. Just unbearable fire in my veins and a brain far, far away.

"Good girl~"

Distantly a phone rang. He made an annoyed sound, but picked up regardless.

"What. I'm in the middle of- ...Excuse me? I'm quite sure I did not hear you correctly. I said 'NO'. She's not-....I will NOT BE-...What. Are you out of your god damned MIND? That pile of scraps you call a project is coming NOWHERE near my-! ....you think you're clever, don't you?"

"Fine. You want to TALK? Let's TALK, Anderson. I'll be there in five."

From far away, past the pain, I watched him chance down at something at the screen. Back up to me. He hung up the phone but did not pause the program. Instead, calmly rising from his desk. Shrugging on his lab coat. Rounding the desk and striding towards my bio-tube.

"Hmmm, honestly, it should have been spaced out over a few more days... but you can take it. Endure a bit longer for me, would you, darling? Daddy's going to go deal with something for just a moment, he'll be right back, my perfect girl. Be good."

He leaned forward, pressing his forehead to my tank. One hand splayed next to it like he badly wished he could touch. Could stroke skin. Hold his creation close. It was not the first time he had done this. Small, covetous, little actions like he wanted to crawl inside my skin and STAY there. Like he cursed the glass that separated us.

He pulled back. Shifted to the side and kneeled. He... had hidden something behind my bio-pod? When? Apparently before I had become aware. Because I had not known about it. A black shoe box. I watched him open i-GUN. Thaaaat was a gun! Fuck. Well at least? By the time anyone thinks to look in on me? The overdose will probably have killed me?

There is a cold, terrible smile on his face as he rolls to his face. Tucking the gun into an inner pocket. It has a silencer. He leans forward one last time. Lightly kissing the glass of my pod, as though heading off to work and not to very obviously kill somebody. The pain continues. Builds. I watch him leave.

With nothing to anchor myself on... time blurs.

I think? There are alarms? Red lights flash. Then they stop. There is shouting at one point. But then silence. An explosion? Or am I hallucinating? Pain. My nerves are on fire. I don't want to have SKIN. Please... please make it STOP! Calm foot steps? Come to kill me? Please come to kill me. Make it STOP.

The lights died a... time? Ago? Emergency lights on now. Generators in the room are loud. Why can I still hear the feet? Footses? Words. H..hurts. please.

Click.

The pain eases to a stop. Aching but nothing new. Over? Oh, thank god. I can sleep now, right? But... sound? New. At my feet. Gurgling. Wha-? The very top of my head feels cold. Then my forehead. Then my temple's and ears, cheeks, jaw... wait. Is? Is the tube...DRAINING? I open my eyes.

When did I close them?

He's back.

Standing right in front of the tube. Blood staining the hem of his coat, lingering marks of his massacre cleaned but not quite scrubbed from his body. There are little off red stains on his cheek, from what must be blood splatter. They look like tiny freckles.

I'm... I can't...

I reach as the tube down my throat is pulled almost carelessly away by the machine. Choke, suffocate, as the same is done for my air tube. But then it's done... and I can BREATHE under my own power. Gasp and splutter, as the goo sloshes around my knees. Then it's gone. And the tube I've been leaning my weight against is roughly pulled away.

I collapse forward, my muscles having never actually supported me in this life.

Arms catch me. Wrapping me in a possessive hug. A hand immediately burying itself in long uncut hair, even as the other wraps itself around my torso to lean me against his body in a cradle. My face is pressed to his neck by the hand in my hair, cradling my head and neck. I can feel breath against the goo wet crown of my head.

"Finally~" he breaths out, whispering it against me like a sigh. "My beautiful, perfect girl. My darling creation. It took so LONG. Those retrobates interfering at every turn, lusting after you like ANIMALS, trying to keep you from me. Then, worst of all, trying to toss you to some pack of savages? Oh, darling~ Daddy's been so worried for you."

"But we'll be okay now, won't we? I finally have you. All fresh and finally finished. My perfect Eve. You can pick any name you want, of course. You and I will be leaving this ugly little place. Daddy has PLANS. A fresh new world, just for you, sweetheart."

He laughed, his hug tightening in a way that would have left bruises had I been a normal human. Kisses were pressed to my temple. A cheek, rubbed against my hair. He seemed... seemed GIDDY with it. That nothing could stop him now. There was no glass in his way. I could not move yet. My muscles twitched when I tried, but that was it. I wasn't even sure I could talk yet, if I tried.

"Aaah~♡ Welcome to the World, Darling. My Perfection. My Eve. This time no snakes or Adams to tarnish you. To get in your way. Just you and your Father~"

"FOREVER~♡"

Next: ->

[dyns33]

Family language

We love a man who can use his tongue in a lot of different ways, even if he's pretty annoying.

It had become a habit.

Of course, sometimes they did it on purpose, to share information without being understood, but most of the time the Shelbys spoke Romani among themselves without even realizing it.

There were often a few words, and sometimes entire conversations. The first few times, Alfie hadn't said anything.

Sitting amidst the screams and noise that always accompanied his in-laws, he silently recited a prayer that they would quickly leave his house, before he lost his patience and killed one of them.

This would probably not please his wife, who was laughing happily with her brothers. Or her fratii, as she said.

He was starting to understand certain things. Alfie Solomons was gifted with languages. But he couldn't guess all the unfamiliar vocabulary, and so sometimes he got lost in very annoying gibberish.

“Cred it soțul tău se îmbufnește.” Finn whispered.

“Nu. E obosit, lasă-l în pace.”

“El simte că oamenii vorbesc despre el.” Tommy said smiling, his eyes landing on Alfie. “Domnul Solomons este deștept.”

No doubt, they were talking about him, under his own roof, purposely making fun of him in an unknown language so that he couldn't understand.

When he asked Y/N, she said he was imagining things. And even if he was right, he probably pleased his brothers by reacting like this. He just had to ignore them and act like an adult for once.

He could have listened to his wife's good advice.

Aside from the threats he had made if anyone misbehaved with her, the community had come to adore Y/N because it was obvious that she knew better than anyone how to control the King of Candem.

There were still fits of rage, because the man remained mad, but she always managed to calm him down. Undoubtedly, taming wild horses as a child helped to acquire this kind of gift.

In a way, Alfie listened.

The normal reaction he would have had would have been to attack the Shelbys directly, getting revenge in some way for their insult. But he let the night pass, thinking about the adult way to deal with this problem.

“DДоброе утро, любовь моя.” he said to Y/N, continuing to read his newspaper with his tea, as she entered the living room, still groggy from sleep.

This seemed to wake her immediately. She stared at him, with a look that showed which family she came from.

"What ?"

"I said 'DДоброе утро, любовь моя'."

"I heard. What does that mean ?"

“Nothing bad, don’t worry, клад.”

Y/N grimaced, visibly irritated, but she didn't insist, announcing that she was going to take a bath. Alfie didn't continue his game right away, because he wished he could join her.

The afternoon arrived, and his wife visited him at the Bakery to check that he had eaten, that he had not died under a pile of files or stabbed by a competitor, and to massage his back very carefully.

“Tes mains sont magiques, mon coeur”

This time, it was Ollie who made a funny face, looking at his boss, then at Y/N, as if silently asking if she understood what he had just said.

“Italian ?” she asked, continuing to massage him, looking detached.

"No. Questo è italiano, mia principessa."

"Prinţesă ? I'm not a princess, and you're becoming a pain."

As painful as her and her brothers speaking Romani in his presence, but he didn't say it. Alfie wanted her to understand it on her own, and no doubt she had understood from the moment he spoke Russian.

But even if she was Mrs. Solomons, Y/N would always remain a Shelby, proud and stubborn, refusing to admit her wrongs, and she would not apologize for having secrets with her family.

That wasn't even the problem. He respected secrets even if he didn't have any for her, and he liked it when she clearly gave him affectionate names that he didn't understand.

Obviously she liked names too. Amore mio, אהובי, mon amour. Their nights were much more passionate when he didn't speak English, the bedroom being the only place where she forgave him for this change.

But in front of others, when she didn't have the slightest way to decipher what he was saying, she didn't like it at all.

"היא הולכת לכעוס, בוס… זה לא מאוד נחמד." Ollie said, very embarrassed at being forced to participate in what seemed like a lovers' quarrel, and not knowing if he respected or was more afraid of Alfie or Y/N.

"אני מקסים עם אשתי. זה המשחק הקטן שלנו."

“I know you’re talking about me.”

“Not at all, милый.”

“Your employees look frantic, staring at me, I know you’re talking about me.”

The game lasted several weeks, before stopping completely, except for the little nicknames. This seemed to surprise Y/N, who wasn't used to seeing her husband give up so easily. She had grown up with the Shelbys, she knew these kinds of men.

Alfie didn't know whether he should be flattered or annoyed that she read him so well, because if he spent less time teasing her, it was to concentrate on another project in secret.

If he was good with languages ​​and didn't like not understanding, the solution was simple. He could learn Romani.

And it would be much more fun if his in-laws and his wife didn't know.

“Pare mai puțin enervat decגt de obicei.” John observed.

“Și mai puțin deranjant.” Arthur growled.

“El plדnuiește ceva.” sighed Y/N, observing Alfie, sitting quietly in his chair, looking at them and smiling. “Nu știu de ce מl iubesc atגt de mult pe idiotul דsta.”

“Cu toții ne מntrebדm asta, surioarד.” Tommy sighed, patting his sister on the back.

Although he had never played poker, Alfie was normally good at hiding his emotions when necessary. But hearing Y/N say she loved him to her brothers, he couldn't help but smile even more, which was noted.

And oh, how he loved his smart wife.

While the rest of the Shelbys were bickering about their future jobs, she came up to him, looking less angry than he expected.

“Ințelegi foarte bine ce spun.”

"Yes, treacle. A little surprise, which I thought I would keep secret for a little while longer. I'm not completely fluid yet."

"It's not fair. I don't understand anything when you speak in other languages."

"Je pourrais t'apprendre, chérie."

Most of the lessons were done in the bedroom, despite Y/N's protests that he was absolutely not focused enough to teach her anything useful.

When she threatened to make him sleep on the couch, Alfie found some time in his busy schedule to give her real lessons, or at least to give her real words.

"… You lied to me, again."

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, love.” he said while continuing to count his coins.

"I wanted to greet Ollie, like you taught me. I said to him 'אתה מטומטם עם זין קטן'."

“He must have been happy.”

"I've never seen him so upset in my entire life. You know my brothers never really made fun of you now, and I'd love to make fun of others with you, but don't make me say horrible things without let me know."

"Okay. You should also stop greeting Italians by calling them 'Stronzo' then."

"… I knew they weren't answering me politely."

"No. I had their balls cut off for that, אף אחד לא מדבר ככה ללב היקר שלי."

"Your 'dear heart' will sleep with Cyril tonight, while you are on the sofa."

"Think about my back, cruel woman ! I'm sorry, okay ? Mоя жизнь, mia vita, החיים שלי !"

“Canapeaua !”

"Does that mean 'I forgive you darling, come kiss me' ?"

He called Tommy to ask him, without explaining why, and even though he had an idea of ​​the answer. At least, the fucking Shleby had a good laugh.

Fine, I won't like you all in the dark like that :

“Cred it soțul tău se îmbufnește.” - "I believe your husband is sulking." (romani)

“Nu. E obosit, lasă-l în pace.” - "No. He's tired, leave him alone." (romani)

“El simte că oamenii vorbesc despre el. Domnul Solomons este deștept.” - "He feels that people are talking about him. Mr. Solomons is smart.” (romani)

“DДоброе утро, любовь моя.” - “Good morning, my love.” (russian) “клад.” - treasure (russian)

“Tes mains sont magiques, mon coeur” - "your hands are magical, my heart." (french)

"No. Questo è italiano, mia principessa." - "No, this is Italian, my princess" (italian)

Prinţesă - princess (romani)

Amore mio - my love (italian)

אהובי - my love (hebrew)

mon amour - my love (french)

"היא הולכת לכעוס, בוס… זה לא מאוד נחמד." - "She's going to be angry, boss… that's not very nice." (hebrew)

"אני מקסים עם אשתי. זה המשחק הקטן שלנו." - "I'm charming with my wife. It's our little game." (hebrew)

“милый.” - "Dear." (russian)

“Pare mai puțin enervat decגt de obicei.” -"He seems less annoying than usual." (romani)

“Și mai puțin deranjant.” - "And less mad." (romani)

“El plדnuiește ceva.” "He's planning something." (romani)

“Nu știu de ce מl iubesc atגt de mult pe idiotul דsta.” - "I don't know why I love this idiot so much." - (romani)

“Cu toții ne מntrebדm asta, surioarד.” - "We're all wondering that, little sister." (romani)

“Ințelegi foarte bine ce spun.” - "You understand very well what I'm saying." (romani)

"Je pourrais t'apprendre, chérie." - "I could teach you, darling" (french)

'אתה מטומטם עם זין קטן'. - 'You're a moron with a small dick'. (hebrew)

'Stronzo' - assholes (italian)

אף אחד לא מדבר ככה ללב היקר שלי - Nobody talk like that to my dear heart (hebrew)

Mоя жизнь - my life (russian)

mia vita - my life (italian)

החיים שלי !" - my life (hebrew)

“Canapeaua !” - "The couch !" (romani)