#why is it so washed out and grey i hate it so much

[lily-blue-blue-lily]

despite my reservations, i am starting to get invested in lone star now, just a bit

[kissitbttr]

miguel putting up with his girl’s princess attitude

-

“miguel!” you call out from the bathroom as your fingers delicately fix the straps of your bodycon dress. “can you come here for a minute?”

miguel sighs, this is the third time you keep calling him knowing how busy he is at the moment. work has gotten the best of him, and if reinventing new techs back to back isn’t enough to drain him, he has to keep up with your needs daily.

does he has the courage to say no to you, though? nope. as much as he hates to admit it because it’s embarrassing, he’s scared of you. if the spider society think that Miguel is too frightening then they have not seen you get mad or being a brat.

“coming, baby!” he walks out of his office while taking off his glasses, rolling the sleeves of his henley shirt to his elbows.

the bathroom door is left wide open, immediately seeing you standing before the mirror in a long and tight fitting grey dress that falls just around your ankles. and just like that, his annoyance completely washed off,

he takes a good look at you. eyes slowly observing every single detail of your face and down to your body. the way that dress hugs your curves and accentuate your best assets should be a crime,

God, you’re such a perfection.

“shut your mouth before you catch flies, babe” you jokingly say as your fiancee stares at you with his jaw slightly agape. “mind helping me?”

Miguel clears his throat after, slightly smirking as he shrug his shoulders. he leans against the door way with his arms crossed, eyes never leaving yours.

“you look absolutely divine, mi amor.” he comments, taking his lower lip between his teeth. “is that new?” he points at the dress,

rolling your eyes playfully, you try to keep your composure still. even after three years of dating—now engaged— he still manages to make your heart skips and create butterflies in the pit of your stomach,

“I know” you reply in confidence, winking at him which he chuckles in return. “and yes it is! it’s SKIMS! got it yesterday, does it look good on me?”

he frowns, tilting his head to the side. “baby, you already know the answer to that come on now… you make anything look sexy.” he strides closer to you as he stands from behind you, “now, què necesitas?” he questions, resting his hands on his hips

you find it attractive how he towers over you, and it’s one thing that you love about him. it’s not that you’re petite or anything. but compared to how tall and big he is, you’re definitely tiny.

“straighten my hair for me please? I can’t reach it” you pout at him through the mirror, “just this part right here” fingers move to the back to touch part of your hair,

“ay dios mio, woman… you’re lucky i love you” he teases before grabbing the iron from the sink. “going out with the girls, mami? i assume lunch?” he asks as he starts parting your hair with one hand,

your head shakes, straightening the dress. “no, I’m doing cake testing today and wedding dresses … Darla is bringing three more flavors.”

he stops what he’s doing, giving you a confused look. “alone? cariño why didn’t you tell me? you know I’d come with you” he feels a bit disappointed and now guilty that he’s busying himself with work and instead you’re left dealing with your wedding, alone.

his hand rests on your shoulder and you move yours on top of him. “hey, it’s okay, Miggy… you’ve been so stressed lately i do not want to put more pressure… it was last minute anyway, she texted me this morning.”

“you’re my girl, i would never be too busy for you.” he says almost too fast,

giving him a sincere smile, you nod your head. “yes… i know, baby. trust me it’s okay…plus it’s bad luck for the groom to see his bride in a wedding dress” you giggle a bit. “we can go over the seating arrangements again together, yeah? i promise” you plant a soft kiss on his finger,

Miguel exhales a sigh, still feeling tiny bit upset that he won’t be there to keep you company. “okay, fine… tell Darla that keep vegan options open for the cakes.”

“noted, honey.” you tell him as he continues to straighten your hair, “is everything okay with work?”

he nods, eyes too fixated on your long hair, not wanting to mess up a single strand. “just running over a few reports and fixing few minor defects on the techs and my suit…the last guy did quite a number on me.”

“hmm i love it when you speak science to me” you comment, watching him laugh a bit at your flirty remark. “but you still need to be careful. i do not want to see my future husband all bruised up when i walk down that aisle or else I’ll leave your ass.” your tone comes off demanding and firm, but it’s only because you care.

“yes ma’am” he replies, setting down the hot object down on the sink before slowly running his fingers through your hair. “there you go, baby” he moves your hair to the front, kissing your cheek and seeing you smile just makes him happy. knowing he’s done a great job.

turning around to face him, you stand on your toes to kiss his lips. “thank you, miggy… I’ll see you later, okay? we can go grab dinner outside and then movie night at 9?”

his heart warms at that and lips stretches into a large grin. “sounds like a plan.” then he lightly slaps your ass as you walk out of the door,

“let me know if there’s going to be bunch of assholes staring at you today, I’ll hunt them down and fucking kill them on the spot.” he mentions as if it’s nothing

and they say romance is dead.

-

cake testing with miggy!

[evie-sturns]

Cry - Matt Sturniolo

summary: you and your boyfriend, matt, have spent the day together. you've been snapping at him the whole time, until it gets too much for matt and you accidentally make him cry. you find a way to make everything up to him.

contains: sub!matt, nsfw, blowjob?, matt crying, angst.

------------------≪•◦ ❈ ◦•≫-----------------

matt and i have been dating for 7 months, sure, we’ve argued before but it’s never lasted more than a day and it’s never affected us that much. i’ve never seen matt cry, according to his brothers he hates crying infront of people, or even talking about it. 

today we’ve been bickering non stop, i’ve been making snarky comments and snapping at him for pathetic reasons, matt’s just been ignoring it.

9:24pm

i sit on the dining table, matt directly opposite me on his phone as he takes small bites of his dinner. “matt.” i say, my voice almost like a robot.

“mhm?” he hums, his eyes fixed on his screen, i groan, “for fucks sake matt.” i huff under my breath. 

“what is it?” matt asks, his finger continuing to scroll across his screen. 

i don't know why i've been so on edge today, everything matt's done has pissed me off. the way his hand is cemented onto his phone pisses me off.

“fucking stop! you don’t even care about me the only thing you do is go on your phone, your an actual excuse of a boyfriend.”

the words leave my mouth quicker than i can process, i don’t even fully comprehend what i’m saying.

i finish off my yelling fit by slamming matt’s phone out of his hands.

he stands up abruptly, his bottom lip shaking as his eyes well with tears. “don’t fucking say that.” 

i scoff, folding my arms and playing with my nails. matt lets in a sharp inhale, a shaky sob exiting his mouth.

my head snaps up to look at him, he’s got tears soaking his pink cheeks, his lips a raw red. he reaches his ringed fingers up to rub his eyes before speed walking out of the dining room, directly towards our bedroom.

my heart drops, an aching infecting my body. i feel a wave of guilt wash over me, tears somehow prickling in the corners of my eyes. i wipe my face quickly, 

i’ve just made matt cry. shit.

i stand up from my wooden chair, the chair legs screeching on the wooden floor. 

my footsteps tap on the ground as i slowly walk towards matt and i’s shared room, the door is shut. 

i stand outside for a few seconds, pressing my ear, which is decorated in sets of earrings, up to the wooden planks.

i hear sniffles coming from inside the room, and small crys. my heart pounds against my ribs as i twist the door handle.

i’m met with matt’s body which is sitting at his desk, his back facing me. i’m not sure he heard me, so i walk over to him. 

i tap his grey sweater, the cute wool sweater that he wears whenever he’s cold, the sweater his mom gave him in high school, which still fits him.

i feel him tense under me, he swings his head round to look at me, his eyelashes are dark and wet, his cheeks a deep red and his lips swollen. 

i take one look at him and my stomach forms a pit, i wrap my arms around his neck, yanking him into a deathly tight hug as i bend down to his seated height.

matt doesn’t hug me back, his arms hang loosely by his sides. i bury my head into the crook of his neck,

after a few seconds i pull away, visible nerves on my face, matt’s tilts his head down to his lap, where his hands rest, fiddling with his rings.

“matt please, look at me.” i say, my voice barely audible. his head shakes, i nod my head “okay.” i whisper.

“i’m so sorry sweetheart, i didn’t mean any of that, i promise it’s just the week before my period. you know i get in these stupid moods that i can’t handle.”  i say softly,

matt continues to stare down at his lap.

i get down on my knees my hands resting on his thighs, my nails scratching the material of his sweatpants.

im at the height where i can see his full face, his lips slightly pouted. i stare up at him, his eyes lock with mine for a split second. my hands travel to his waistband and grip the elastic, i look up at him again, asking for permission. matt's gaze drifts to my eyes again, he nods, his top teeth sinking into his lower lip.

i pull down his sweatpants to his midthighs, he's got no boxers on, already half hard.

i brush my thumb over his tip, earning a shaky groan from matt. i maintain eye contact with him, i feel him grow fully hard in my hand. i run my hand up his length a few times before taking my hands off him completley.

"please" matt clears his throat, "please what?" i tease, resting my hands on his thighs, he almost looks as though he’s going to cry again,

i can see his breathing intensify, "tell me what you want." i say calmly, matt lets out a whine, his leg bobbing up and down on the spot, "please." matt breathes out again.

i lean foward, wrapping my lips around matt's tip, a soft moan exits his mouth as he gentley tangles his fingers into my hair. i swirl my tongue around his tips before taking more of him further down my throat.

"close-" matt warns, bucking his hips up as his hands grip my hair tighter. i pull off his cock for a second to catch a needed breath,

"i need to." matt protests as his cheeks flush, small droplets of sweat gathering on his forehead, he runs his hand though my hair. i wipe my mouth with the back of my hand, "i know, i know." i say, quickly wrapping my mouth around him again as i scratch his thighs with my nails.

i bob my head up and down quicker, matts whimpers filling the room. i look up at him with doe eyes, he squeezes his eyes shut, thrusting his cock deeper into my mouth.

i can see his breathing intensifying before he releases in my mouth, i pull off of him.

matt leans back in his chair, before quickly reaching a hand down under my mouth, i spit it out into his hand "sorry.." matt laughs slightly, grabbing a bunch of tissues and cleaning his hand and my lips.

"don't say sorry matt, my fault for getting you so worked up." i say, standing up and grabbing matts arm, pulling him up onto his feet. i lead him towards the bed, he stumbles slightly as he recovers from his orgasm.

i sit down on the bed, my back resting against the headboard. matt lays down next to me, i pull his head onto my chest.

"matt, i feel really bad." i start,

"what? for what? that was the best fucking experience i've had all month, the nails did somethin-" he rambles, i cut him off.

"no! about the things i said, and.. you know.. making you cry" i say with a small laugh.

"trust me, you made up for it, can you do the same tomorrow so i can get another blow job." matt smiles, i run a hand through his hair, shaking my head with a scoff.

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

[babyleostuff]

COSMOPOLITAN | KIM MINGYU

18+ minors dni

word count | 2k

warnings | not proofread, subby and very needy reader, dom gyu, degradation (whore/slut), slight daddy kink, pet names (baby/princess), minor dacryphilia

“what are you smirking at?” mingyu asked from behind the counter, busy with preparing dinner. he was dressed in a black tank top, grey sweatpants, and an apron you got for him for his birthday - nothing out of the ordinary. 

normally you’d drool over how gorgeous he was, how his strong arms flexed under the weight of the pans and pots, how his melanin skin was glowing in the afternoon sun, and how his short hair made him ten times hotter, but the recent pictures from the cosmopolitan photoshoot took all of your attention away from him. 

mingyu looked over your phone, and laughed. “you know i’m right here, right?” you nodded your head and bit your lip, not really listening to the man before you, busy scrolling through twitter and saving every picture you came upon. 

“how are you even real?” you whispered, staring at the photo where you could see part of his back. "wait, is that why you told me to keep my hands to myself that night? so i wouldn't scratch you?" you looked up at mingyu in confusion, just to find him already staring back at you.

“we both know how my back looks like after i fuck you, baby,” he smiled innocently and leaned over the kitchen counter to press a kiss to your lips. 

you shifted in your seat, immediately feeling the wetness between your legs. his nonchalance and confidence, the fact that he knew exactly how he affected you, made you want to throw everything off the counter to show him how much you loved and hated him for how beautiful he was. 

scrolling to the next photo where you could see his exposed chest, his skin smooth and silky, you smiled to yourself because you knew it was usually covered in your hickeys. that's right, only you knew what it felt like to run your lips over mingyu’s body, how sensitive his nipples were, and what beautiful sounds he made when you got close to his big cock.

“let me know when you’re done drooling over the pictures so we can have dinner,” your man suddenly pulled you out of your thoughts. you looked at him like he was crazy, your eyes unconsciously landing on his perfect ass.

"i don't know if you've noticed, but dinner is the last thing i want to eat right now."

mingyu turned around and laughed at your pouting face. "baby, they're just photos. i literally look the same right now as i do in them," he walked around the counter and cupped your face in his large and warm hands, tilting your head up so you could look at him. “would you stop sulking and eat dinner with me?” you sighed, taking in his puppy eyes that he knew you couldn’t resist. 

you nodded your head and pecked his cheek, as he helped you down from the stool you were sitting on. “go and wash your hands, and i’ll get everything ready,’ you patted his chest. 

mingyu disappeared into the bathroom for a moment, leaving you alone in the kitchen with the ramen he made and thoughts swarming your mind. 

"what are you thinking about?" you suddenly felt familiar arms tighten around your waist, his hard chest pressed against your back, trapping you between his body and the counter. “what do you think?” you huffed, but it quickly turned into a sigh as mingyu trailed his lips along the sensitive part of your neck.

“did my baby get wet just because of a couple of photos?” he murmured and you nodded, not bothered by the fact that you should feel embarrassed about getting turned on so easily. you knew it was better to be obedient with mingyu. 

“and what should i do about it, hm?” he whispered into your ear, as he lazily rubbed his thumb over your lower tummy. “gyu, please,” you sighed and threw your head back, so it rested on his shoulder.

you felt his chest move as he laughed, and you were sure that if you tilted your head just a little you would see that your boyfriend’s puppy eyes were gone, but you were way too focused on his hand to move. 

"my little stupid baby wants my cock because I showed a bit of skin in a photoshoot," mingyu cooed, as his other hand slowly lifted your top up, revealing your breasts and nipples, which were already waiting for his warm mouth to wrap around them.

but he didn't do anything further, you could only feel his hot breath on your neck.

"use," kiss. "your," kiss. "words," his lips bruised over the nape of your neck with each word, making your toes curl. "or i'll leave you like this, desperate to be fucked, with wet panties, and empty holes.”

you whined at his words and unconsciously rubbed your butt against his hips and you felt that you weren't the only one who was horny. “you won't get my mouth on your pussy, and you definitely won't get my cock if you act like this," your chest quickly rose and fell with each breath, as you struggled to produce any coherent words.

your mind was mush and you had problems thinking straight, but you knew you wouldn’t survive if mingyu left you like that. 

“i want… i n-need your hand," you moaned. "where? show me baby," you grabbed mingyu's free hand and guided him to your breast and squeezed tightly. normally it would hurt you, but now the pain felt like salvation. "your m-mouth," you then grabbed the back of his head and tried to guide him to your nipple that was practically begging for his mouth.

mingyu, as if he knew exactly what you were asking for, squeezed your breast even tighter and began to circle your other nipple with his tongue. "and your o-other hand," you sighed, grabbing his hand that was still resting on your stomach, lowering it to your pussy. 

“now fuck me,” you thought.

"you know what, i think i'm bored of this,” he said, as if his hand wasn't just circling your clit in torturously slow circles. “let's eat dinner," the moment mingyu said it all the air left your lungs, and you wanted nothing more but to fall on your knees in front of him and beg him to fuck you, but all you could manage was a begging moan.

you gripped the back of mingyu’s head tighter as he continued to lick your nipple like a lollipop, but you knew that no matter how much force you used, you had no chance against him. 

you were like a rag doll to him, like a toy he could push around.

“please m-mingyu,” you pushed your hips harder against his hand for more friction and almost cried out when you felt him pinch your clit. "you're just a slut who just wants to get fucked, right?" he chuckled, going back to rubbing slow circles around your clit. “y-yes g-gyu, i am. i'm your slut,” you moaned as you felt his fingers at your entrance. you grabbed his wrist to hurry him up, but he didn't move even an inch. "great, then you need to be fucked hard, whore."

you let out a tearful moan as you suddenly felt him remove his fingers from your cunt, but not before he collected your wetness. “open your mouth, princess,” you immediately did as mingyu told you and a second later you were politely sucking on his two thick fingers like an obedient girl. 

“good girl,” he murmured, looking you straight in the eyes.

he pulled them out after a while with a loud "pop" and your lips continued to follow them for a moment as if you wanted to continue sucking them. "another time, baby. remember, i have to fuck you now,” mingyu caressed your cheek gently, as you pouted at him, and started pulling his black tank top over his head.

“tell me honestly, baby,” he said and you continued undressing him. your fingers quickly found the bow of the apron behind his back and you had no trouble untying it. 

"if i wasn't at home, would you touch yourself tonight because of these photos? would you imagine my tongue in your pussy? would you ride your pillow, imagining it was my cock? would you have to bite your lip, imaging it was my shoulder, like you do when you don't want the neighbors to know how well i fuck you?"

a soft sigh left your lips and you had to put your hand on mingyu's chest to keep from falling. “my poor princess,” he muttered, brushing your hair away from your face. one of his hands rested on your waist and the other moved down to your ass, pulling you closer to his body.

his hard cock was pressing into your stomach and you knew he needed you as much as you needed him, only he was better at hiding it. you whined like a child and grabbed the waistband of his pants, pulling them off of him in one move. 

"good job, baby. now i can finally fuck your greedy pussy," he smiled like it was some kind of game. honestly, for him it probably was. without any warning, he suddenly leaned you forward so that your chest was lying on the counter, your cheek and tits against the cold granite, contrasting with the warmth of the hand mingyu had on your ass. 

"look at you. you're leaking," he ran his hand down your back. "so what, you expect me to clean up after you afterwards, right?" suddenly you felt him pulling your hair, hard enough to lift your head off the counter. "answer me slut."

“n-no, daddy, i'll clean it up myself later,” he laughed, tugging at your hair again as if he was enjoying your discomfort. "good slut." 

as if you were nothing more than his toy, mingyu grabbed your hips roughly and lifted you up so that his cock was touching your ass and you had no choice but to stand on your tiptoes. "this hole probably wants me to fill it with my cum too, but that's for another day, yeah baby?” he asked, running his cock over your puckered hole.

“now your tight pussy needs to get what it deserves," and without any warning, in one quick move his thick cock entered your cunt.

you moaned loudly, closing your eyes from the mind-blowing feeling, mixed with pain, but you didn't care - nothing could compare to the feeling of mingyu's cock stretching your pussy. “f-fuck, baby,” he groaned, pressing his hips harder against yours. "i love your little pussy."

"daddy, p-please move!" you cried, turning your head to look at him, as your cunt sucked him in deeper. 

as if he hadn't fucked you in months, mingyu grabbed your hips and started thrusting in and out of you hard and fast, so that your tits were sliding against the counter with every movement and you had no choice but to let your boyfriend fuck you. you couldn't see his face, but you were sure he was biting his lip and his eyebrows were furrowed in concentration.

the sound of his balls slapping against your pussy and the squelching sound of your cunt, mixed with your moans and cries filled your kitchen, and there was no point in trying to muffle the noise anymore. 

"my pussy." "i love when my little princess lets me fuck her like that." "tight and warm, a perfect fuck for my cock."

mingyu was starting to babble and you knew he was close too. his movements were getting sloppier, but you were sure you’d be left with bruises from how tightly he was holding you, his finger digging into your flesh. tears were rolling down your cheeks, and you could feel your wetness making a mess between your bodies and surely on the floor too, but you couldn’t care less. 

holding you with one hand so you wouldn't fall, his other slipped between your bodies and he quickly found your clit. “mingyu,” you moaned for the hundredth time that afternoon, grabbing his hand to make him rub your clit faster.

"come on. cum on my cock, my princess," with one last stroke and a light pinch to your clit, you felt a wave of warmth wash over you, as your pussy clenched mercilessly on his cock. mingyu moaned loudly and came a second later.

after a moment, he gently grabbed your bruised hips, turning you to face him. he ran his hands up your thighs and brushed your hair away from your face. "but really, honey? it's all because of a few photos?" he smiled as if he hadn't just fucked you until you couldn't sit up straight.

“what can I do about it,” you shrugged, nuzzling into his bare chest. "I simply have the most handsome boyfriend in the world."

mingyu chuckled, his arms wrapping around you in a warm hug. "do you know what your most handsome boyfriend in the world wants now?" you shook your head in amusement, looking at him. 

"eat dinner, watch a movie and fall asleep in the arms of the most beautiful girl in the world."

[simplylatte]

Sleepy Teacher

Miss Circle x GN!Reader

You held your papers to your chest, your heels clicking against the hard, tile floor of the hallway. The gentle sounds of your footsteps filled the silence that swept around you. Various flyers decorated the plain walls that were grey and gloomy. You'd occasionally come across a few drawings here and there from students. But aside from that, the design was simple.

You marked your way to the teacher's lounge, your stomach rumbling for some needed food.

You forgot to pack lunch.

You couldn't help it.

You taught your class as usual. Gave a two to three week unit, hand them a study guide, and test them the next day. It was a lot of papers to grade for a single teacher. You feared falling behind, so you spent hours at night trying to grade what you could. And so far, you've only managed to grade half of what was needed to be done. Not to mention that you also hadn't updated your lesson plans yet.

You took a seat at a table, the room empty. You placed the packets of papers on the desk and rubbed your temple. Your head throbbed with excruciating pain. You felt like crying. But you were a teacher. You signed up for this amount of stress, so you resorted to sucking it up with a sigh. After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you grabbed out your pen and began to grade the papers.

Time felt slow, and you grew more tired by the second. Sleep deprivation overwhelmed you and your thinking process. You spent 20 of the 35 minutes of lunch trying to grade a single packet. Your thought process was slowed down that you hadn't registered someone walking in the room.

"Mx. Y/N?" A soft, Japanese accent filled your ears, and you flinched, nearly dropping your pen. You turned your head around to see Miss Circle standing in the doorway.

"Goodness, you nearly scared me to death," you frowned.

"I called your name twice," her eyes narrowed at you.

"You did?"

"I did."

"But I didn't hear you. And since when did you come in?"

Miss Circle didn't say a word. Her eyes stared into your soul, and you knew right away that she caught on to your habits. This wasn't the first time she's found out about your lack of sleep. And unfortunately, she was not real happy about it. Her footsteps clicked against the floor as she made her way to you.

"How much sleep did you get this time?" She asked with a stern tone. You stared at her with visible confusion. You were zoned out until she had to tap your shoulder to get your attention. You simply tilted your head and stared. Miss Circle scoffed lightly.

"How do you expect to be a good role model when you can't even take proper care of yourself?"

"I do take care of yourself," you retorted.

"Then why are you staying up late?"

You stood silent, unsure of what to say or how to respond. You simply shook your head and went back to trying to grade papers. Miss Circle frowned in disapproval. She sat down next to you and lifted your chin up, turning your head to look at her.

"This isn't good for you, you know that by now. If you keep this up, I'll turn you in to the principle—"

"No, please don't!" You protested.

"But I will with the way you're neglecting your sleep. Papers shouldn't be over your top priority."

You stood silent, the feeling of dread washed over you. You hated how caring she was about you. You could handle a few hours of sleep, you thought. You crossed your arms and turned your head away from Miss Circle. Her fingers lightly tap against the table.

"And I'm assuming you didn't pack your lunch either?" She asked. Your eyes widened, and you stood silent. You felt her eyes glare down at you as your silence was obvious enough. Miss Circle mumbled a few words underneath her breath as she went through her lunch bag and pulled out a container with a sliced sandwich. She handed you the bag in front of you and reached over to take away the papers stacked in front of you. You glanced at her and groaned to yourself.

"You really don't need to," you mumbled.

"Oh, but I insist," she whispered back in a hushed but angry tone. "I'm not giving you a choice. Eat."

You shook your head. "No. Come on, seriously. I really need to grade those papers."

"Absolutely not. These papers can wait. Eat the sandwich, and I'll give them back to you."

You snarled in frustration. You were too tired, so you just slammed your head against the table with your arms folded. Miss Circle stared at you for one moment, her eyes narrowed down at you. After a moment of glaring, her gaze softens. She places the papers down beside her and presses her hand on top of yours.

"Listen, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just worried about you, okay? This isn't healthy for you. You can get yourself sick, you know."

"I know," you sighed. "But it's almost summer break. I can't slack off. The students are stressed enough as it is."

"And so are you. They're not the only ones dealing with stress," she reassured.

"..I'm so tired," you whispered, your vision getting blurry.

"I know you are,"

Miss Circle was about to continue her sentence. But you lifted your head up from the desk, leaned in, and leaned your head against her shoulder. You were tired to notice, but Miss Circle froze with shock and felt her face flush. She stood still and allowed you to lean against her, unsure of what to do. Finally, she wraps her arm around you and holds you close to her.

"Uhm, Y/N?" She gently called out. Nothing. She tilted her head, only to see that your eyes were closed. You fell asleep on her. Miss Circle was flustered, but she held you close. Using her foot, she pulled your chair closer and made you lean on her. You looked so peaceful. Your breathing was steady. You felt at peace. Miss Circle couldn't help but feel her heart swell with adoration.

This was okay. Next hour was her planning period anyway. She didn't mind this, not one bit. Miss Circle kept you close, her fingers gently trailing against your skin that left goosebumps in their wake.

"I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt," she whispered, her lips curling into a smile the longer her gaze stayed at yours. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.

How sweet. ♡

☆------☆

I wrote this at 11 pm. It's not the greatest, but I hope this is well for you. ♡

[dodgeirs]

⊹ ᳝ ࣪ hotch helping to take off your makeup.

cw. bf!aaron, confirmed whiney!reader, established relationship, fluff, whipped aaron

wc. 622

a/n. just a little small, small snack while the poll finishes up 🫶 resonating a little hard with this one bc i was so sleepy taking off my makeup today. need me a hotchy rn 😞

"you've gotta stay still f'me, honey." aaron urged.

"'m tired. let me sleep, please." you whined. resting your head onto aaron's abdomen, and wrapping your arms around his waist. finding comfort in his soft stomach.

"i know, but just let me finish this up. then you can sleep all you'd like." he proposed sweetly. you groaned at his words, and his actions as he holds your face in his hands so you'd look up at him. you instead concentrated on how his thumbs were rubbing you cheeks and the fact that he looked like an angel from the bright bathroom lights and his tall stature. maybe you really were that drunk.

"i don't even care." that was a lie and he knew it.

"you don't? the last time you went out and slept in your makeup you complained, and then went on to blame me for not performing boyfriend duties by taking your makeup off." he explains. giving your forehead one more swipe of the cotton pad drowned in micellar water before throwing it in the trash.

you reluctantly removed your arms from his waist so he could get a facial rag wet, he was going to wash your face for you too.

you feel bad now. and despite the pout displayed on your face he was right, as much as you'd hate to admit, those words were very much yours. looking down at your hands, now in your lap you pick at your fingernails. aaron is being nice by helping you out, and you're being whiney.

"what's going on in that head, hm?"

picking you head head up to look at him, to really take him in. he's in his pj pants and a grey shirt. he was no where near sleeping, but he had stayed up for you to return home, being dropped off by a friend. compared to when aaron had to come pick you up the last time you went out with friends and got drunk, that was fairly early in your relationship and you were thankful he wasn't still in his office or on a case.

"'m sorry." you're sure your pout looks more so looks like a frown now.

“what for?”

“i’m being inconsiderate.”

aaron instantly hangs the damp rag onto the rag bar, moving to stand in front of you.

“and why do you think that?” he questions. eye brows doing his signature hotchner furrow.

“because you’re so nice. and i did say i wanted you to do those things, yet i’m whining about it now.”

“oh, honey.” aaron begins. crouching down so he'd be on your level as he spoke to you, his knees cracking in the process. causing you to bite down on the smile that formed from the noise.

“y’know i don't mind doing any of this, right? and that i enjoy being able to take care of you. in any state that you're in, even when you get whiney.”

his words help reassure you. “yes. but, don't you ever get annoyed when i whine?”

“honey, i could never get annoyed by you. you're also drunk so it makes sense that you're more whinier than normal.”

“hey!” you gasped. hitting at his shoulder, pretending to be offending at aaron’s jab and the fact that he's finding it amusing.”

“okay, okay. not funny, noted.”

there's a moment of calm where the two of you look at each other smiling.

“y’know, i love you?” you question.

“you only tell me it a hundred times a day.” aaron responds with a wide smile. getting up from his spot and in the process giving you a quick peck on the lips.

“i love you more. let's wash your face so i can get you to bed.”

[doobea]

BLLK - REACTIONS TO "I NEED TO GET SOMETHING BACK FROM MY EX."

contents: gn!reader is missing an item that they left at their ex's, their boyfriend isn't too pleased to hear. established relationship, sfw, lots of clinginess and jealousy ensued, a bit possessive (chigiri) characters mentioned: isagi, reo, chigiri, nagi, shidou a/n: this was fun to write hehe

Isagi

He scowls and stops what he's doing, making sure that he heard you right. Usually, he's a pretty secure guy and ever since you guys have been dating there weren't any major red flags or issues in the relationship aside from minor arguments here and there. He's wondering where this is coming from.

"I'm sure it's not all that important, babe." He emphasizes the pet name to knock a little bit of sense to you.

"But Yoichi, it's my emotional support animal." You plead, explaining that you had accidentally left your stuffed teddy bear over at their place after a date and ever since then you've been having trouble sleeping soundly.

Isagi groans and is quick to put on a pair of sneakers, knowing that he can't say no to your puppy eyes. "Okay, but we are washing them at least five times."

"The water bill tho—"

"Five times!"

Reo

Your boyfriend smiles, pulling you into a deep embrace and raking his fingers through your hair before firmly saying, "Absolutely not."

"W-What? But that was my favorite necklace, I have to get it back!" You had saved up so much of your time and money to buy the piece of jewelry you were eyeing for a while. It just so happened that your ex stole it from you during an argument.

Reo knows about this, and he knows that you hate it when he showers you with too many gifts, but he simply refuses to let you revisit a person who even treated you like that in the first place. Eventually, he convinces you to let it go, who would even want a necklace that now carries negative sentiment anyway. "Just let me know which one you want, okay?"

You sigh in defeat and nod, nose brushing against his. "Thanks, Reo."

"Say," Reo begins to twirl with the ends of your hair, "how much does the earth cost?"

You blink at his question. "Uh—"

"I'll buy you the whole earth."

"Baby what?!"

Chigiri

"Go on ahead, darling." Chigiri doesn't look up from the book he's reading and, with a free hand, he takes a long sip from his coffee.

You look at him with surprise, "Really?"

"Mhm," He flicks to the next page. "Just drive safe and tell them I said hi."

It was almost too good to be true for his oddly calm behavior but you didn't have time to worry over it. You really needed to hurry and retrieve back your passport from your ex before who knows what might happen. You plant a chaste kiss on your boyfriend's forehead before heading out.

"I'll be back soon, Hyoma!"

The door shuts with a quiet click and he puts down the book that had his phone tucked in the middle with your location flashed on. When he sees that you're on the go, he grabs his car keys and silently tails you behind, just to be sure your ex doesn't pull anything weird.

Nagi

The big sloth of a man pretends to not hear you. Even when you repeated your sentence again, saying you needed an old film camera back, he drowns himself in the sounds coming from his computer.

"Seishiro, are you mad? It'll be quick." You promise but he doesn't budge from his chair.

He hums in thought, his grey eyes dotting around the in-game map before finally replying, "Lovebug, can't they just deliver it? Going all the way there would be a hassle."

"I don't mind Sei, it's honestly fine, I don't want them to pay a delivery fee for it."

Nagi pouts, wondering why you're acting considerate for someone who's an ex. "That doesn't make sense."

"If I leave now, I can make it back before sundown and then we can—"

You're caught off guard by the sudden large arms that now wrap around your waist, the grip is tight as Nagi could make it. He buries his face in the crook of your neck before pleading, "Mhm, I'll pay for their delivery fee if you can just stay here."

Shidou

Your boyfriend almost chokes on the sandwich he was eating, eyes widening as he gawks at you. He's always thought of you as his mischievous side-kick and co-conspirator in his schemes. Hearing that one, you had an ex was a shock to him, and two, you needed something back from them.

You told your boyfriend that you were merely attempting to retrieve some old clothes that a friend had requested back.

For a moment, Shidou was in deep thought before an uncanny grin crawls to his face. An expression that you're all too familiar with.

"Okay," He chimes a little too innocently, "how do you want to go about this?"

"What do you mean, Ryusei?"

"I mean how do we break in?"

[intheshadowsbehindyou]

What about showering with the mercs? Nothing dirty, like, at all. But like, washing the gross men’s hair while the bask in the most affection they’ve gotten since 5th grade. Maybe I just wanna see tough and gruff grown men turn into putty when given the smallest amount of care. Gn reader please!! And thank you!!

I love how you assume they got affection in 5th grade. What a very bold claim.

The Mercs taking a shower with Y/N (SFW)

Scout:

- Scout is a very restless person. He can never sit still for more than five seconds. It takes a lot of massages and rubbing soap on his body for him to finally stop shuffling his feet. Even then his attention is always caught by something mundane. Like a weird tile on the wall or the window high above near the ceiling where nobody could be a peeping tom.

- Your affections finally catch up to him. He relaxes a little more when you start to do his hair. He lays his entire head on you and lets you work at his scalp. You notice for some reason his dog-tags are still on him and ask him about it. He shrugs and goes “What if I die in the shower or some shit? Who knows. Maybe a frenchie will fuckshit out of nowhere and backstab me.”

- You can’t help but huff at his joke. It was an amused yet annoyed response to his nonsense. He smiles groggily as you begin washing his back. “Do you do this often?” “Do what?” You ask. “Join a group of mercenaries and then wash their backs.” He says. You scowl at him and shove the loofah in his mouth.

———————————————————————-

Soldier:

- Literal dog. Arches his spine and tilts his head back in bliss as you scratch his scalp. Sighs in relief as you release him of today’s pressure. Turns around against the wall to let you do his back. Raises any limb up when you need it. He enjoys being treated like a pampered animal. He’s like a big Labrador that loves water

- He begins doing you as well mid wash. Covering you in body wash and rubbing your back and tummy in circles. You know little to nothing of soldier’s past so it’s quite a pleasant surprise when you discover he’s good at this. Palming the knots out of your muscles and encouraging you to relax. It’s just enough pressure not to hurt you.

- He took his helmet into the wash.. unsurprising. Pyro and Spy have insecurities with their true face as well. He tilts his helmet upward and flicks it off. allowing it to fall to the floor. His grey eyes are so.. loving. There’s this adoring smile on his face. He makes you so weak you both have to sit down in the shower.

- “C’mere cutie.” Oh. oh shit.

————————————————————————-

Demoman:

- Motherfucker brings alcohol into the shower and lights candles. It’s going to be awkward trying to explain to the others why there’s traces of platonic/romantic intimacy (your pick) in the fucking showers.

- … Let alone why some of the candles look suspiciously like sticks of dynamite.

- “Eh, I ran out of candles and em’ too lazy to get me ass to the store. The rest are just Delayed-Dynamite I bought from mann co a year ago. Don’t worry, we have aroun’ an hour before dey explode!” God you hate him so much sometimes. But you trust his profession in explosive devices and decide to risk it. If all else fails you’ll both just respawn and you’ll beat the shit out of him. No biggie! (Also that dynamite sounds really unhelpful.. No wonder he never used it.)

- Falls asleep in the shower with you on his lap. Usually he snores but he’s dead quiet this time with a big smile on his face. He seems quite content with this. Although you’re the one who has to snuff out the dynamite in time.

——————————————————————————

Engineer:

- He obviously won’t show it, but he’s really timid and embarrassed about this. The moment you both get in, you’re squished against the wall by his massive tummy. Like actually suffocating. This particular shower is way too small for two people.

- “Sorry, pardner.” He says, so unsympathetically that he practically radiates it. In truth his shyness immediately faded when he realized he had the upper hand in the situation. He had a grin on his face as he watched you struggle to grab the soap. Jesus, even his manboobs were obstacles. You wondered how this guy didn’t just crush people on the battlefield by sitting on them.

- “See here, now..” He adjusts his mechanical hand, making sure it was still working — even under the water. He grabbed the soap and began soaping up a loofah. “Guess you’ll just have to watch me, instead. Huh?” He teased. His soft spoken voice made it sound more like he was teasing a small newborn puppy for falling on its back, though. Good luck trying to move around, let alone convince him you’ll wash him.

—————————————————————————-

Heavy:

- LITERALLY SUFFOCATES YOU TO DEATH LIKE ENGINEER BUT MORE PAINFUL

- You’re half wondering if you’re actually going to die from this or break the tile wall. Heavy just stares down at your poor body — that you SWEAR is being mangled right now. “Little teddy bear is too small for Heavy.” He grumbles, shoving his body into you to see your panicked squeaks.

- It doesn’t help that he’s actually incredibly muscular. All of that isn’t fat. It’s pure. fucking. bear. He moves back a bit after getting his fill of enjoyment and you touch his chest with your hands for the first time. Realizing it was rock solid. How did you not notice this before?

- His soft monster-like breathing was calming and evened out your own. It was like you were washing a sleeping dragon. You’re slightly disappointed he’s not a huge werewolf. But regardless, he was calm very often and you weren’t. This closeness and intense heat from the shower was making you sleepy.

—————————————————————————

Pyro:

- Literally refuses. good job trying to get them in. You have to be a SUPER trustworthy friend/partner of many years before you come to this point.

- Even then, after they take a shower they enjoy a nice hot bath to unwind. It’s incredibly relaxing to lay on their chubby belly and allow yourself to take in the heat. They like their bathes EXTREMELY hot by the way. Might as well be boiling themselves. Luckily it doesn’t seem to be killing you or causing third degree burns, so it’s not boiling.

- When you wash them, make sure to rub their belly. They’ll practically melt at the touch. Maybe even almost fall asleep. Don’t forget to slap their belly like a drum. Produces nice sound. You NEED to do this. This is a threat.

—————————————————————————

Sniper:

- Yes, this man does shower regularly. Dear god. You people are degenerates. He is NOT smelly stinky. Professionals have standards.

- Gets extremely touchy feely with you. As you trace his chest scars he flinches for a second but then sighs. You explore his body whilst soaping him up. Every little part of him is free for touching. On his back are many, many scars from spies that the respawn machine didn’t quite heal. You touch those sensitive areas to test the waters (pun intended.) and he nearly takes a huge chunk out of your shoulder by almost biting you.

- But feeling your comforting touch.. And your fingers carefully gliding over the sensitive areas, he trusts you to treat them well. You are so close to him you can practically feel his breath on your face and smell his pleasant aftershave. “Goood..” He growls. He drags his compliment and his voice makes you shiver. It’s like your ears are orgasming.

—————————————————————————

Medic:

- He is unbelievably stubborn at first, but the moment you try and respect his wishes and leave, he goes “WAIT.” Yeah, fucking figures. You get in the shower with him and he’s trying to be stoic and distant most of the time. He feels exposed and it’s making him feel conflicted. Medic is dominate, protective by nature due to his difficult past. He feels a need to be in control of this situation entirely.

- He gets grumpy when you insist on washing him and reverses the situation. Instead opting to take care of you instead. He’s no stranger to massages. (Please don’t ask him about the time he had to check people bare naked when he still had his medical license.) And he’s really experienced in knowing all the right places. Instructing you in an incredibly professional manner to turn around, lift an arm and whatnot.

- The moment he goes to your stomach, he says quietly “Did you know that all your intestines are moving around in there like a snake right now? Ohh.. I’d love to feel the texture of them.” He presses his hand on your lower half, sad that it isn’t possible without cutting you open. He hums contently as he feels around where your lungs and heart would be. Counting every single second you breathe in and out.

- For some reason you feel like you’re being examined and breathe deeper breaths on instinct. Which only furthers his pleasure. “I want to be close..” His voice is barely audible. You swear he’s whispering this repeatedly. “I want to be close, I want to be close.. I want to be close.” He wraps his arms around you, squeezing you to death like a plush doll. “I want to be close, I want to be close!” He’s beginning to sound a little frustrated. As if he wanted to be one with you in some way.

——————————————————————————

Spy:

- He’s so used to sexual favors that he mistakes this as some sort of sexual intimacy at first. Taken aback when he realizes it’s just casual affection. He’s not used to people loving him for merely existing. He always has to be in somebody’s pants or he feels useless to said person.

- Refuses to take his mask off. It’s sopping wet. You look at his pitiful state with love in your eyes. He scoffs at you “Oh look, somebody who doesn’t have to hide their identity because they don’t have literal mafias, big name criminals, and government officials tailing them.. How very wonderful.” He’ll take it off for the hair wash but you have to close your eyes while doing it, otherwise he threatens to cut you. (Hah. Bullshit. He won’t.)

- Very quiet most of the time. Little speak. His touch is delicate and focused, rubbing your back as you wash his big chest. For somebody who folds like a piece of paper on the battlefield against enemy pyros, he’s certainly strong compared to you.

- You feel something gently poke at your back. Freezing in place, you eye the sliver object behind you. Low and behold there’s spy’s butterfly knife. He can’t seem to get intimate without pulling that thing out and doing casual knife play with you. No matter who you are to him; he’ll twirl the knife behind you on your skin. So delicate that he doesn’t pierce your skin at all. He does this often as a game of trust. Eager to see if you’ll shrink away or not. In fear of what he truly is. Weapons will always be a part of him.

[h-worksrambles]

Sonic X Shadow Generations fascinates me. Because it feels like something I shouldn’t be excited for. And yet I absolutely am.

Don’t get me wrong. I love Sonic Generations. It’s my third favourite game in the series and my favourite 3D Sonic game (with Sonic Adventure 2 in a close second). I’m very happy to see it getting a re release to expose it to new audiences, and playing it in 4K60fps on my PS5 is a very enticing. Likewise, I really like Shadow as a character and I’m excited to play as him again.

And yet, his new bonus campaign promises to basically be a bunch of nostalgic pandering for Shadow the Hedgehog, a game which I consider to be, simply put, crap. It was boring, dull, colourless and embarrassing trend chasing. And pretty much everything I hated about it is on display in this trailer.

We’ve got gritty, grey cityscapes, we’ve got the rather blah alien villain, Black Doom returning, we’ve got the looming return of the series’…bafflingly executed lore. In a word, Shadow was a pretty much everything I didn’t want Sonic to be shoved into a blender. I’ve given my thoughts on revisiting past excesses and failures for the sake of nostalgia. I wrote a whole thing about Final Fantasy VII Rebirth and my fears that it would go overboard pandering to the 2000s spin offs (which I dislike a for lot of the same reasons as a lot of Sonic stuff from the mid 2000s). A faux attempt at maturity that sacrifices Sonic’s camp and colour, and lacks the writing competency to make its tone shift work is pretty much my worst case scenario for the series. And now we’re invoking that for nostalgia? Again, I should hate this.

So if I dislike Shadow the Hedgehog so much. If it really is so emblematic of Sonic’s worst excesses that I want it to leave behind in the 2000s…then why am I so damn hyped for this? Why am I not feeling the same dread as whenever VII Remake implicitly threatens to bring back Genesis?

I think it’s because of the specific relationship Sonic has had with its past for the last decade. So much of the stuff from that time period is material that Sega has seemed actively scared to touch again. Sometimes with good reason. But I think that’s why some material from that time has gained such a strong nostalgic cult following, and why they’re held up as such bastions of missed potential. There’s never been anything quite like Shadow or 06 since they came out with how safe Sega has subsequently played things. And in many respects, that’s a good thing. But I can see how it build a sense of mystique around them. It was kind of sad to see 2010s Sonic so…scared of itself. Terrified to invoke its own history but not really committed to a new direction either. And this is pretty much the exact opposite of that hesitancy.

Basically, the reason I react to seeing Westopolis or Black Doom with ‘holy shit let’s go!!!’ rather than ‘why, god, why?’ is because I genuinely never thought I would see them again after this long. It’s just exciting to see Sonic Team throw caution to the wind and embrace all the parts of their franchise. Even the parts I personally dislike. Plus, Sonic Generations is kind of the perfect game in which to reimagine that stuff and make it..actually good this time. This was the game that made Crisis City of all things into a banger level. The game that took Silver, one of the most notorious boss fights in the series, and gave him a kickass encounter.

If they can fix that, they can do anything.

Plus, the fact that the trailers already show all these trippy stage effects and anime af boss fights and set pieces tells me we’re not just gonna be running through the same drab washed out burning cities that made Shadow 2005 so boring. Again, there’s evidently an effort being made to rehabilitate and reimagine this stuff, not just repeat all the same mistakes. And that’s exciting.

So yeah, Sonic X Shadow Generations has somehow managed to get me genuinely excited for all the parts of the series I typically balk at. And that’s pretty impressive.

That said, if I see Mephiles again, I’m leaving.

[papil0nglegs]

Fallen angel!Adam x Moth healer!Reader

Chapter 2: Consolation

(Ch.1) (Ch.2)

Warnings: Swearing, nightmares, more angst, mentions of genitalia, a bit of body dysmorphia

A/n: Tysm for the support on the first fic <33 again I’m new to this writing stuff so pls send feedback if you have any 🫶🏽 Also for this fic I added a bit more focus on Adam as a character because i absolutely HATED how 2 demential they made him in the show 😭

Adam’s dream pov:

Im back..

Back at the garden.

Lillith ran away a few days ago because of what I proposed to her.

When I found her she was with someone else.. the fucking clown

Why him?

Why not me?

Why not me?

What’s wrong with me-?!

3rd pov:

While Adam’s nightmare, about the fateful day he saw Lilith with Lucifer, he hears distant humming in the background. Beautiful humming, mixed with the sound of running water too.

He begins to open his eyes, however it was a challenge for him to do so, because of the hardened crust that formed due to his unwiped tears from last night. He turns his head towards the humming, causing him to groan.

You then stop humming, hearing his groans from afar. “Oh! You’re awake” you say in a happy tone, grabbing a bowl and filling it up with water, along with a cloth. You then walk towards him, sitting on an armchair that was next to the couch that he had been resting on.

Adam tries to get a better look at you by raising his head a bit towards you, but is barely able to do so because of the crust around his eyes blurring his vision. “Are you.. Am I..?” He asks in a low voice, interrupted by a cough.

That’s when it hit you, he’s a new soul. Your warm smile then fades into a worried frown. “Sigh, I’m sorry. But, you’ve passed, you’re in hell now.” You then grab the wash cloth, dipping it in the cold water and placing it on his head. “Just relax, please”

Adam sighs after them, then sitting up on the couch while holding the cloth against his head. “Whyd you take me?” He asks. “You want some dick or something..”

Your eyes slightly widen, out of all the assumptions he could’ve made you didn’t expect it to be that. “What? No I helped you because you looked like you needed help, and you didn’t seem to want to aggressively assault me. That can be difficult to find down here.”

He snarls at you, then standing up from the chair weakly. “Where’s the bathroom? I need to take a wicked hot piss right now” He yawns stretching.

“Down the hall to the left” You say pointing to the hallway. “I can show you if you’d like” You suggest standing from your chair.

“Fuck you, you think I can’t find the shit room by myself?” He snaps, getting defensive because of his fever.

“It’s possible” you admit, as well as intending to messing with him. “But go ahead, I’ll make you something to eat while you’re at it, you must be starving.”

As he stomps to the bathroom he mutters insults under his breath. “Hippie bitch, I can go piss by myself, you wanna hold my dick up for me too motherfucking whore-?”

As he enters the bathroom. He gasps quietly, noticing that big parts of his appearance have changed. He now has big horns, that look exactly like the ones that were on his extermination mask, except one was missing its pointy part entirely. His skin now a reddish grey, as well as his hair but much darker. He spreads his wings a bit, expecting to see his normally feathery wings, but they’ve now turned into dragon like wings.

He sneers at the sight of it, he’s now turned into the thing that he’s hated most. A sinner. An embodiment of the wicked and cruelest parts of humanity.

“Fuck..”

Y/n’s pov:

I continue to make the stranger something to eat, I don’t have much since I haven’t gotten groceries yet, so I’m just serving him some left overs. It always hurts seeing someone get hurt from the extermination, especially when I know I can do much, most people who I want to help after an extermination simply lash out on me, worst than what the stranger had just done now. So I’m getting a little hope.

Sure he’s being quite rude right now, but who wouldn’t be after what he’s been through. He’s probably a new soul, who just fell into an extermination. I can only imagine the relief he’s gonna feel when he finds out hell isn’t always like how he first saw it.

I hear the toilet flush, along with the door opening indicating that he finished his little trip. He goes to sit at the small dinner table next to the kitchen, and I notice that his hands are dry, too dry.

“You’re not gonna wash your hands?” I ask kinda weirded out.

“Umm, and why would I need to wash my hands? My dick is clean enough.” I roll my eyes at his response. “Anyways what’s your name babe?” He asks.

I then become surprised on how much pride he has, to call a stranger who had showed them great kindness and belittle them with such a name “Im sorry, but I am not your ‘babe’” I respond in air quotes. “Secondly my name is y/n, so there is no need for these immature nicknames.”

Adam takes notice of the name, “y/n? Oof, I dated a y/n before. She was so bitchy, maybe all y/ns are” he says in a cocky voice.

“Huh, well I’d love to hear about her sometime I guess.” I then place the plate of pasta to him. “It’s not much but it’s all I have, apologies” I say sitting on the dinner table with him. He then starts to absolutely devour it as if he hadn’t eaten for a month.

I laugh in slight amusement. “what happened? Did you die of hunger or something?” I ask jokingly, unaware of what my gesture of humor would to do him.

He pauses, looking down at the plate of food, his face seems saddened but not wanting to show it. I immediately begin to regret asking such a question.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have mentioned it. It’s okay if you don’t want to talk about it” I say in a worried tone. “I was born here so I wouldn’t know how bad it would feel, to die then enter a place like this. Please, forgive me.” I then place my hand on top of his free one, attempting to comfort him in a way. “So, what’s your name? I’ve been wondering what it is since I brought you here.” I ask trying to distract him from his sadness.

“My name? shit uhh,,, itss Adam.” He seemed a bit scared to ask me, not sure why. Adam seems like a pretty normal name for someone like him.

“It must’ve been scary huh? Falling into an extermination like that, angels come here every once a year to kill us,, it’s horrible.” I explain. “It’s okay, this place isn’t all bad, every now and then you find some nice people. Although they are hard to find.”

Adam stares as I explain a few aspects of hell, I’m glad he’s open to trying to find out how things work around here instead of immediately going on a killing spree like some sinners.

I really do wish that he’ll open up to me soon, and that I can open up to him. I’m not sure where this will go, I just hope that it’ll go well enough.

[lunajay33]

Enjoy the Silence🌪️Part.2

Summary: Things in your past has driven you to be silent but will someone be able to break that shell, will someone finally listen to you(might make this into a series!)

Part.1

•Masterlist•

After supper everyone said their good nights and went to their own rooms, me and Daryl walked down stairs about to get ready for bed

“Ya can use the bathroom first” he said as he walked in his room probably getting a change of clothes from the ones he wore now full of sweat and dirt but I never minded

I got a change of clothes myself, picking out my only pair of pajamas, some grey sweatpants and an oversized black shirt I found in a run down house while on the road after terminus

I went to the wash room changing, then washing my face with cold water, talking so much today probably didn’t seem like much to the others but for me after so long it was a lot mentally of course

I looked at my self in the mirror, thinking about Daryl

“Oh my god” I whispered feeling the tears well up in my eyes as the reflection in the mirror looked back at me, this mess of a human I hated to look at, Daryl was amazing so generous and deserved the world why would he waste time to get me clothes, to make me feel welcomed, I don’t deserve it, that’s what I was taught I deserve nothing I’m useless

The tears rolled down my face as my lip trembled, the faces of all the people that hurt me flash in my mind

“Ya okay in there?” Daryl asked knocking from the other side of the door

I quickly dried my face opening the door looking at a concerned Daryl

“Ya okay?” He asked looking at my obvious red eyes

I nodded not wanting to bother him he had enough to worry about

“Peach…….can I call ya that?”

I nodded feeling those butterflies

“Peach I know yer lyin, what’s wrong?” He said brushing my hair back and keeping his hand on my check that I leaned into loving its warmth

“It hurts” I whispered as my voice broke

He didn’t go to check me over for injuries, he just knew what I meant, I leaned into him laying my head against his chest and he quickly wrapped his arms around me holding me gently, running his hand through my hair

It had been so long since someone held me, since I was a kid and it felt so good to know someone cared, the tears continued to fall u til I couldn’t cry anymore

I pulled back looking at him as he wiped my tears away

“Want me ta stay with ya tonight? Can sleep on the couch but I’ll be there” he asked

I nodded heading to my room, he changed in the bathroom and came to my room where I already had a makeshift bed made on the couch for him, the couch was horizontal to my bed resting on the same wall so he was technically right by my bed which gave me some peace knowing he was right there

He plopped down on the couch covering up and leaning back in his arm behind his head looking over at me facing him as I wrapped my blankets around myself

“Thank you” I said as he had a little smile at that

“Goodnight peach”

“Goodnight”

I woke up with a bit of a headache, always happened after crying the night before, I sat up rubbing my eyes trying to ease the pain then I heard a groan coming from my right

I looked to the couch completely forgetting Daryl stayed in my room last night

“Mornin” he groaned sitting up

I smiled as I got up getting the pair of grey shorts he got me and the green shirt, heading to the washroom to change and braid my hair back so it was t falling in my face all day

When I came out of the bathroom I bumped into Daryl and he held my arms so I didn’t fall back

“Sorry”

“Don’t worry…….ya feelin better?”

I shrugged my shoulders looking away from him embarrassed

“You helped a bit” I said feeling my face warm

“Good, I’ll meet ya upstairs” he said walking past me to the bathroom

Michonne Rick and Carl were already sat at the kitchen table filling their plates, I sat down and put some strawberries on my plate and two pieces of toast

“Sleep good?” Michonne asked

I nodded as I motioned to her

“We slept good, Judith slept through the whole night so we didn’t have to get up” she smiled seeming refreshed

Daryl came up sitting next to me taking some toast and bacon, the usual thing he’d eat, beside the occasional squirrel

“What do you guys got planned for today?” Rick asked as he fed Judith some mushed up blueberries

“Gonna take my bike out, saw a bike shop on the drive back yesterday, wanna look fer some parts”

I shrugged my shoulders since today was my day off from gardening

Daryl leaned closer

“Wanna come with me?”

I leaned closer to his ear cupping my hand around his ear

“I’d love to” when I leaned back to normal the others at the table had a shocked look

“You actually talk?” Carl asked his eyes wide

I nodded feeling extremely nervous now, maybe one day I’d come around to talking to them but it’s not the same feeling as talking to Daryl, I didn’t feel pressure with Daryl but once I talked to the others that’s all they’ll expect of me

“It’s new” Daryl said jumping to my rescue

“Why Daryl?” Rick asked with a little smirk

My face exploded in warmth and I knew it was red, I was still confused on this feeling I have for Daryl maybe I should ask Maggie or something

“Ummm it’s getting late we should all head out to our duties” Michonne said getting up and clearing the table probably trying to change the subject

I got my to go bag, knife and gun and met Daryl infront of the house already waiting on the bike, he handed me a helmet

“What about you?”

“Don’t need one now get on” he said as I quickly put the helmet on and sat behind him wrapping my arms around his waist

“Be careful please” I heard him laugh as he revved up the bike and we were off

It wasn’t a long drive but it was relaxing, the hum of the motorcycle and his smell of woods and cigarettes enveloping me I rested my head against his back and held him tighter until we got to the shop, he shut off the engine and helped take of my helmet

“So what are we looking for?” I asked not really knowing anything about mechanical stuff

“Tools, some bolts, just thought we’d take a look” he said rummaging through some drawer

I found a section that was biker-ish clothes, I found some fingerless leather gloves thinking they’d be perfect for Daryl, then I found a sticker with a skull and bones maybe he’d like it for his bike

“Find anything?” He asked from behind me

“Ya” I nodded handing the things over

I saw a little smile as he pulled in the gloves

“Fight great, I found what I needed we should head home” he said taking my hand and leading me back out to the bike

We got home and went to take watch before supper, standing in the sun was actually nice, especially being with Daryl

“Can I ask ya somethin?” Daryl asked breaking the silence

I nodded waiting for the question

“What happened to ya?”

The question put a weight on my chest like I couldn’t breathe as my heart sped up and all those bad memory plagued my mind

“It’s okay, ya don’t gotta tell me” he said as he saw my anxiety bubble up

He deserved to know, of all people he’d understand

“I’ve never had someone show me how to love, I’ve never felt it from anyone and I don’t even know what it’s like, that feeling people talk about I can’t even relate, all I’ve felt is being called useless, waste of space, awful things………some people I thought wouldn’t even hurt me did, verbally……physically, I see their faces every night, I haven’t had a full night sleep until well…… you got my the clothes and last night, I thought if I just shut myself off and didn’t let anyone in they couldn’t hurt me anymore, but I wanted to let you in because you know…….you understand” I said finally putting my feelings out there, most I’ve spoken in forever

He looked at me and I saw that sad look on his eyes as he squinted from the sun

He took my arms and pulled me into a hug, holding me gently

“I ain’t gonna let those bastard haunt ya anymore” he pulled me back to look into my eyes

“Ya listen ta me, yer worth it, yer strong ya made it this far and they’re probably dead, ya deserve ta live ya deserve ta let go and feel, ya deserve to feel loved and every emotion, I know I ain’t the best person fer this but….i can help ya, teach ya ta let go” he said rubbing my cheek with his hand

“Please” I pleaded wanting to finally let go, it might be a slow process but I don’t want those bastards to still dictate my life, I want this I want my new family to really know me, i was scared but I had to put my self out there as long as Daryl was there

The first part really went off I hope you guys like this part!!

Taglist: @deansapplepie @in-this-minute

Part.3<-

[the-fiction-witch]

Just To Spite You

Media The Artful Dodger

Character Jack Dawkins

Couple Jack X Reader

Rating Flirty AF

Requested: Hi, I would like to request something It's for the jack Dawkins book The reader's father is throwing a party and invites a lot of people including jack , the reader's enemy. They hate each other, the thing is there is such a thick tension between them they can't deny it but it has to be a secret 

I stood at the top of the staircase doing my best to hold my breath and keep out of view. I looked down at myself in my little heeled shoes too tight for my feet, my tight stockings, my endless crinoline, bird cage of wicker, petticoats, my corset on tight enough to strangle me, and my huge uncomfortable gold glittering ballgown around me, the top off my shoulders but tight to my skin so much it would truly mark me, my long sheer glittering butterfly sleeves almost to the floor, A band of teal blue ribbon around my waist, my hem and as a choker around my neck. I had skin-tight white gloves to my elbows already glimmering from the glitter that had fallen from my dress, a ring around my finger with a large blue gem attached to the bottom my dress so I would not have to hold it to move or dance, My hair had taken hours or meticulous combing and curling and now allowed to hang freely down my back. I hated to look at myself. I felt uncomfortable. Out of place. But this is what my father wants for tonight... 

Tonight was my father's Grand ball he holds each year, and this year I was a grand piece of it. 

I had always been a decoration for his grand balls but tonight was different I know my father is desperate to wed me off before I will begin to be labelled as an old maid or thornback, it already brought him such rage that I was even a spinster.  

"If I may announce, formally. My daughter Miss Y/n Y/M/N Y/l/N!" He called out and the party began to applaud. 

I sighed and stepped slowly down the stairs knowing the sort of madness if I were to trip or worse fall down the stairs. I stopped at the landing of the stairs looking out the the party, full of eligible men and a few couples of high local importance. They all looked impressed by me but I just felt awful. As soon as I could I grabbed a drink and hid myself in a corner trying to not be passed or looked at much, not easy in this glitter of a gown. 

Men often came up to me to greet me so I forced a smile and a nod a drank more. 

"Having fun?" A smirking voice spoke up I glanced to my side and saw a familiar sight... admittedly He'd cleaned up. 

Dr Jack Dawkins leant on the wall a pair of well-shined shoes, black trousers, and his usual shirt but it was actually white. Good god I didn't know he still owned any that were still white and not an off-grey from washing blood out, a light cream waistcoat with a slight teardrop pattern to it, a white tie around his neck and a black jacket folded over his arm, his hair well fixed without its usual fluffy frizz and his hands clean... or well as clean as one can get a surgeon's hands without bathing them in acid. 

"Ohh yes, Thrilling." I sighed downing the rest of my drink at the mere idea of the two of us having to... be nice to one another. 

"You're father's gone all out."

"He will. He does. He's a social man."

"And you're a recluse."

"I am not a social recluse Dr Dawkins, I meer wish to spend my time socializing with people with high intellect and important things to say."

"That's why you're talking to me?" he smirked,

"No. You are neither of those things so if you could kindly take your buggery blonde butt elsewhere that would be... Marvellous." I sighed as I saw a drinks tray go past so I quickly took one and so did he, 

"Pompous Old maid" he muttered

"Butcher."

"Whiner"

"Coot"

"Witch"

"Uneducated scoundrel"

"Patronizing Princess"

"irritating malevolent"

"Snobbish toffee nose"

"illiterate Phiilistine"

"exasperating Spinster"

"Crude vagabond" I complained, "will you go away!"

"I would, however, every woman here is married, courting or an utter idiot. And at least you can hold a conversation."

"Even if I'm going to insult you."

"Insult me all you want just please don't talk about bloody flowers. I can't hear anymore." 

"What are you doing here anyway?"

"You're father invited me."

"Why? He knows about my... feelings towards you."

"I believe he mistakes our hatred for sexual tension," he said, 

"Why would he do that?"

"At least he sees you talking to me, even if we are arguing. And let's face it most husbands and wives are like this after five years so... maybe he just thinks we are getting a head start" he said sipping his drink

"You are one of the most insufferable men I have ever met Mr Dawkins."

"Dr Dawkins. You're going to insult me you can do it correctly Sweetheart."

"Do not call me sweetheart!" I glared 

"Why? Are you gonna fight me in your glittery little dress sweetheart?" He smirked moving closer and bending himself to make eye contact like you would with a child given he was a whole head taller than me "Or better yet take it off and we can go upstairs."

My response was to simply throw my drink in his face and march off elsewhere. 

Unfortunately, I was found by my father who forced me to begin the usual nonsense, I now had to dance with any man who asked it of me and of course many did. I found it utterly nauseating being held and dancing with these men only interested in me for my father's money all while on display to everyone meaning if I pulled a face or acted up everyone would know. Luckily it would soon be over as most of the eligible men invited I had now danced with. 

This man finished up with me kissed my gloved hand and returned to his friends, leaving me before him.

Jack stood with a wide smirk his jacket now back on he bowed and offered his hand, I did my best to hide my face but I'm sure I turned red with anger. 

"Don't you dare," I whispered letting him take my hand and giving it a sweet kiss 

"Ohh I will princess. Just to spite you" He smirked holding my hand in his own he grabbed my waist and forced me close enough I could feel the buttons on his jacket, I sighed and moved my hand to his shoulder, 

"I am going to dispice every moment of this."

"I think I'm going to enjoy it," he smirked as we began to dance, he lead of course even if at times I did fight with him luckily many others danced too so we could speak even in hushed tones and I didn't have to be as careful hiding my emotions 

"Do you have to hold me so tight my father will get angry?"

"Ohh that's the plan, I want us to be close."

"Why?"

"well half because I can make your father suspicious, and I can see down your dress."

"You just get more and more insufferable don't you Dr dawkins."

"Ohh I do, it's awfully fun." He chuckled "Christ I can feel the glitter on your dress flaking off in my hand" 

"Perhaps I shall send you home glittery and sparkling,"

"You would wouldn't you."

"I would. Just to spite you."

"God even your perfume is infuriating" he whispered in a sly tone as we danced doing a good spin or two, 

"Ohh I live for the moments you spin me away, Dr Dawkins,"

"Ohh why do you get a moment of peace from my arms?"

"No, because for a few brief seconds, I don't have to smell your blood-laden aftershave." 

"Perhaps I smell bloody because I'm a vampire about to bite your neck sweetheart."

"You bite my neck, and I chop your dick off," I said purposely forcing him to spin me out but he quickly spun me back into his chest

"Ooohh feisty" He smirked 

"At least my drink somewhat covers your aftershave."

"Well then I thank you for making me more palatable" 

"Ohh you're far from palatable." 

"You know, you're not a bad dancer."

"Neither are you, surprisingly." I sighed "How did you get this good?"

"So I'm good am I?"

"For a butcher."

"I was in the navy, you'd be surprised how many officer's balls you attend. You pick things up."

"I imagine all the ladies wanted to dance with you,"

"Ohh they did, but I save my skills for the pretty ones."

"so I'm pretty am I?"

"Gorgeous Sweetheart." He whispered 

"Don't call me sweetheart." I glared digging my nails into his hand 

"You are adorable when your are angry, like a little pixie."

"One of these days Dr. Dawkins, you're going to wake up with me over you."

"Ohh I'm betting I will" he smirked 

"And I shall drive your own scalpel into your heart." 

"Ohhh sweetheart, such a violent little thing you are." He smirked, "Just remember you do anything to me, I will haunt your every waking moment, I will be the face you see in your nightmares and trust me you'll be having nothing but."

"Just dance doctor." I sighed 

"Why? Are you enjoying our dance? or do you just like a man having you in his arms."

"I've been dancing in men's arms all night."

"Not boys. A Man sweetheart." 

"Ohh I would love too, shame I don't see any men here tonight."

"One of these days I'm going to have you tied down on my operating table."

"Ohh? Didn't know you were into that sort of thing Dr Dawkins."

"Ohhh you'd be surprised by the sorts of things I'm into."

"Ohh getting rejected by little ladies? even after you saved their lives."

"You know. I'm a doctor."

"As you keep saying."

"One of these days you'll need my help, you'll be laid on my table, and only I will be able to save you."

"Ohh? And you'll let me die I suppose out of pure spite?"

"No." he smirked as we finished our dance he took a step back and brought my hand to his lips giving it a firm kiss never breaking eye contact "I'd ensure you live. Just to spite you." He smiled "Goodnight Miss Y/l/n"

"Goodnight Dr Dawkins."

"It was a pleasure," he smiled wickedly before he headed back into the main mess of the party. 

Ohh, my god... I hate that man. 

why does he have to be so..... Ughhh! there isn't been a word for that man! 

I fixed my dress a little before I noticed.

MY RING! 

It's gone! 

Ohh and I know just the slippery eel who took it. 

"Miss if I may-" A man began trying to dance with me

"Not now." I snapped lifting my dress and marching through the party to find Dr Dawkins, and I spotted him leaving the main room so I rushed after him grabbed his jacket and yanked him into the music room empty for this evening 

"What the hell!" He yelled 

"My ring I know you stole it!"

"I haven't stolen anything." 

"Liar!"

"Ohh you come to admit I've stolen your heart?"

"Give me my ring Jack! it was my mother's give it back." 

He rolled his eyes and handed me my ring back 

"You are... the most unendurable peacockish Lobcock of a man I have ever had the misfortune of meeting!"

"You are the most horrendous upstart of a woman I have ever met!"

Both of us were red in the face from yelling, our blood boiling I wanted to kill him to throw him across the room but I grabbed his shirt and he grabbed my face and we kissed with more passion and heat than I had ever felt in a kiss, his lips soft and gentle as we slowly kissed in utter silence. It was... the most amazing kiss of my life. 

We stopped and moved away from each other both of us gasping and trying to comprehend what just happened between us. 

"What the hell was that..."

"I have no idea."

"Do you wanna fight me or fuck me jack!"

"I don't know!"

"What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't know. you're a ...complicated woman and you make me feel... Complicated"

"Complicated?"

"Some days, I swear to god I could strangle you! but... I also want to hold you and kiss you"

"I...I admit I want to slap you so so badly but... I also really want to kiss you." I answered, "Did you wanna do it again?"

"God yes!" He gasped pulling me back to his lips, I happily kissed him back stroking his neck and tugging on his hair, and he backed me against the closed door "Ummm you evil little witch! all this time all you've done is wind me up, I want you. I need you. I swear to god I will tie you to my bed tonight and have my way with you kicking and screaming if I have to."

"I want you too. I need you too. I want you forced on my bed until you beg me for mercy"

"Ohh I wouldn't beg you for mercy. Just to spite you."

"Then I'd never scream just to spite you." 

"Ohh I'll make you scream sweetheart."

"Don't call me sweetheart."

"Ohh I will," he smirked 

"We must stop"

"We must."

"I don't want to."

"Me either."

"But we must." I gasped moving away "We must. We... we must build a wall between us. These emotions they must... never be revealed."

"No... they mustn't" he nods 

I found myself unable to not stare but he also couldn't help it, as we stood five feet from each other wanting nothing more than to be in each other's arms 

"Beleive me... if your father and his party were not on the other side of that door." He said, "I would throw you on this floor and ruin you." 

"As would I you." I answered "But... we cannot. People will hear. people will talk. We can never be together."

"Why not? this is a ball to find you a husband isn't it?"

"why would I ever want to be married to you!"

"Because we can't resist each other. You know it. I know it. Our anger has always been just boiling tension... take my hand. and come with me to see your father. Let me marry you. and I swear our lives will be nothing but enthralled passion and ecstasy." 

"I do not wish to be married."

"And you can't avoid it. you know you can't your father will wed you to the first of those boys who ask... and you know your life could be infuriating if you were married. At least if you marry me you know it will be."

"Passion made fade in time."

"If it does... it will be too late. I will be yours. your will be mine. I do not imagine our passion fading but if it does, I will keep you in my arms, love you endlessly, and make love to you with the passion of tonight. Just to spite you."

"if we were to marry, you must understand that I will have to trust you... and if you break it Dr dawkins. I will see to it that your life is miserable and I will never ever give you peace, just to spite you."

"Understood. marry me. Be my bride. And I swear I will suffer with you all of my days." he said taking my hands 

"....Marry me. Make me your bride... so we can suffer this fate together for the rest of our lives." I stroked across his face 

He pulled me to his lips and we kissed with such hunger, such passion and love.

"I love you sweetheart,"

"Love you too Jack." I smiled laying my head on his chest and he rested his chin on my head 

"Come on then, let's go see your father before some boy tries to snap you up, sweetheart."

"Alright jack" I smiled holding his arm as we returned to the party. 

[sanjisblackasswife]

Zoro and His Feelings with You (NSFW/FLUFF)

Black Fem Reader , because she calls Zoro “nigga”…like once…twice WC: 1.3K

CW: (un)Established Relationships, Soft Zoro, Implied Virginity Loss, Light Smut all together, Fluff, Zoro is shy about his feelings, Reader is described to have curly hair

@roronoaswifey Happy Birthday!✨(its still 9pm over here :(()

“I’m not even that dirty.”

“GET IN THE TUB!”

You’re never sure why Zoro always had this hate of putting some water on his body but you knew once you both started hanging out more he would either bathe with you or sleep somewhere else. As stubborn as he can be he did at least agree to two baths a week. The second only being if he needed it.

And after today he needed it.

“You smell like blood, sweats, and tears you are not sleeping with me.”

“It’s not even th—“

“Sleep outside I don’t give a damn.”

“OH MY GOSH FINE!”

Ever since you and the bafoon became more closer in your situationship, Zoro deemed more clingy to you.

He always found himself around you, taking your hand to go somewhere, and even caught himself staring at you a few times. It was so awkward on his behalf.

Eventually you caught on to it. That he liked you more than a crewmate, but dammit he made it hard to talk to him about it. He was never great at expressing romantic feelings expect through his flustered cheeks when you tease him.

“I don’t need a -“

“Shut up you smell like 40 cans of bounce that ass—“

“WHAT?!”

You move his face forward as he sits comfortably between your thighs in the hot water, he actually acted like a child, pouting while you washed his hair.

“You’re such a baby..” You said, rubbing harshly into his scalp, your acrylic nails scratching him just right he began to sink further into your touch. You heard him mumble a little with his head now laid softly on your breast.

“‘M not.”

“Are too.”

“AM NOT!”

“Raise yo voice at me again, nigga.”

The bickering between you both continued. It was always like that between you both, one moment you’re cursing at him about how horrible his diet is, the next you’re debating about which alcoholic drink is the best.

But you loved it.

It felt, natural for you both to feel so comfortable, especially since you’ve been more than that a few months ago.

Which is why this was bothersome.

Because here you are: now facing him on his lap, naked in the water as he scrubs your chest, surprisingly no sexual intent behind it, just casual conversation as he touches your body. Washing your bare torso and cracking jokes.

“….I think if you just started working out with me I—oi—.”

He looked at your face, it was an unread look behind it, Zoro’s rasped voice helps you look at him with a crooked smile,

“You alright?"

You knew by saying yes you'd be just wasting his time and yours denying because he always managed to see through your bullshit. How could you hide the look though? You always happen to catch yourself thinking about Zoro and you when you're with or not with him.

"Aye--" His hands emersed from the water to hook his finger under your chin to look at him. His sudden boldness! You gasped, taking a second to look at his features, pretty skin, shining from the water, his beautiful dark grey eyes, the subtle indentations on the corner of his lips that form dimples when he laughs with you, his natural wet wavy hair attaching to his forehead.

And those lips,

those damned lips you--

missed.

So much, you missed so much from that night.

He was so surprisingly soft. The way he held you close, the way how though he was embarrassed he couldn't stop his body from moving on its own, the way he didn't leave a mark of your body unkissed.

He was so..

special.

And you missed it.

"Common, speak to m--mph!"

You couldn't help yourself. You had to kiss him, there was no way he didn't want to be kissed if he was that close.

It may have been wrong, but then why did it feel so good? Why are his palms cupping your cheeks? Why is he breathing harshly but not letting go? Why did you feel Zoro deepen the kiss?

"I--" You both stuttered, Zoro's face couldn't get any redder.

"I'm so sorry." You spoke softly at him, his eyes as wide as can be, pupils small, and chewing at his lip.

It was so awkward between you both you wanted to rush out the tub, but instead--

"Fuck---" Zoro hummed into your mouth. You couldn't stop yourself not tonight, you felt his hands ghost over your spine to arch into him, your slit grazing against his hardening cock on his abdomen. Fuck, you missed the feeling of him.

If only you knew how much he missed the feeling of you too.

"w-w-wait wait. Zo-!" You moaned as his fingers tugged at your scalp, and the other down to your ass to give a tight squeeze to lift you a little on his muscular thigh while he nibbled lightly at your damp neck, pushing away your ginger curls. The room somehow felt hotter and steamier and though you didn't want it to end,--

"Z-zo....are w-we...ah-!"

"Are we what...?" He pulled back a little to look up at you, breathing out of his mouth.

You paused again, but Zoro wasn't having it, so he gave your butt a small swat underwater, "Are we what?”

"...Are we....together Zo...Like...in a relationship ..."

You nearly had the made choke on air. He laid back on the tub trynna straighten up, but failed horribly.

"You ask that now?"

"Yes now you ass. I just..."

"...I just haven't stopped thinking about that night we had together,...and how we got close, but....never done it again and most importantly....never...um..."

"...talked about us...I know." He looked to the left for a moment, wiped his flustered face and looked back at you, "....I have thought.....you know...about us too...and....I don't know I thought it can go unsaid that you'd be my woman now or something."

"....excuse you, you didn't even take me out on a date--"

"Those times we left the Merry together--"

"No nigga that wasn't a date that was us doing errands....but...you um....you....you said I'm yo woman?"

"Lord..."

"Nah say it.."

Zoro scoffed, you both were now aware of each other's intention with moving forward in your relationship, but just for good measure you have to tease a bit, so you looked down to his brown blushing tip and rub your thumb on it earing a hiss from

your man.

"Common." You coo'ed in his ear now grabbing the base of his cock to slowly stroke up and down. "Say it."

"Ffffffuck--y---"

"ah ah that's not nice....say...it." You applied more pressure to squeezing him, his hand gripped at your forearm, gritting his teeth. "Move your fucking hand, Zo. And say it or I stop."

"...you're my...fucking woman...pleasedontstop."

He sounded so pretty, his chest rising, you were satisfied with his answer enough to kiss him again stroking his cock, and now tugging his hair, his uncoordinated hand went from one breast to rub and pull on to the other as you slid your tongue his mouth.

Back like nothing left, the room got hot again, you began to grind on his thigh for more simulation for your clit, whining out his name brought a chill to his spine, he needed to hear more.

He took advantage knowing your sensitive areas from last time. His lips latch on to your breast and suckle.

“You! Ah! Fucker..” a choked out moan mixed with a giggle fall through your lips with him.

He was such a cocky bastard despite his red cheeks, his middle finger slightly circling your clit to push out the orgasm you been aching for, but

He stops. Admiring the angry pouty fucked out face you have from your stolen orgasm he pecks your bottom lip and suggests to finish in your room

Since you're his woman now.

[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant/Marc Spector x reader [5]

description: Marc and Dove adjust to their new mission in Cairo: catch Harrow before he can release Ammit and for the love of gods don’t let Seth have the body again.

word count: 8.1k

trigger warnings: major gore and violence warning (he is the God of violence after all :/) hints at Dove’s dark past, hints at prostitution/sexual exploitation. All involved are of age however. Feelings of worthlessness. Swearing.

main masterlist | series masterlist

“Do you ever feel dirty afterwards?” The soft voice asked from her right. She’d know that voice blind. Know it in any darkness. A call to a home she could never go back to.

“I feel like taking ten showers and walking through a car wash naked, and it still wouldn’t be enough.” Her own voice came. There was a tinkle of a laugh like a bell, yet the bitterness was clear in the single note. Her head turned to see her, her, the blonde girl that haunted her every thought, her every breath.

Grace.

Her face as supple and innocent as any nineteen year old, unmarred by the horrors of the world despite their place in it. Her eyebrows curved high on her face, forget-me-not blue eyes that watched the world outside their window with a longing she, herself, was more than familiar with. The two of them sat opposite each other on the wide window sill, legs bunched up to their chests, the gentle, first rays of morning sunlight falling on their faces. The two of them stared out into the rest of the world, a world they were not permitted to go without his say. The small trees that dotted the street swayed, the slow, warm breeze washing over them. The rare chance they had to take in fresh air. The two girls preened to its caress instantly.

“I sometimes think at least I’m useful here,” Grace said, her honey locks falling as she rested her head on the window, if only to get closer to the freedom on the other side, “I could be sleeping on the streets or in a place half as nice as this, alone, but at least here I’m with you,” She said, her bluebell eyes following as a pair of collared doves wove in between one another, their small, grey figures dipping through the air freely.

“It sounds fucked up, and maybe it is,” Her own voice came, her eyes also following the birds that seemed to be gloating about just how untethered they were to any place other than the winds that carried them, “But part of me, the disgusting part that I try ignore, feels wanted. Like those men want me, so much that they would even pay hundreds to see me.” Her breath steamed up the glass as she took a deep sigh, the confessions rolling off her lips. Because she knew Grace wouldn’t judge her. Grace would never. “It makes me think that maybe there’s some part of me that is actually worth wanting.”

“I’ll always want you,” Came the soft reply, her heart jumping into her throat with a small choke. She could never deal with mushy words, blatant affection from another being, the one way they differed. Grace was all about kind words, telling her how her heart felt, “Every bit of you,”

A tired grin spread on her face, “I wish it could be this easy with other people,”

“Why? Are you planning on replacing me any time soon?” Grace asked, leaning up to open the window further to let in the breeze. They only had a couple of hours before he would be back, and he hated when they sat in the window. Too many eyes, too many people to see them for free.

She chuckled, nudging the other girl with her leg in a small chastise.

“Never.” She said earnestly, watching Grace’s cerulean eyes follow a leaf fall to the ground elegantly. “Although, if we’re making requests, I’d like a best friend that would stop stealing my bras,”

“Maybe if the machine didn’t wreck all mine I wouldn’t have to-”

“Oh, give over, you like the lacy ones. Just admit it.” Grace blanched, her eyes flicking to the girl before a guilty smile appeared, showing off every one of her perfectly straight, white teeth.

“I didn’t realise they were so dear to you,” The girls giggled, the sun stroking both their faces, warming their cheeks gently. “I was wondering why I could see your nipples through your top,” A smack to the ankle closest to her.

“I’d like them back please. I’ll have you know the desperate ones pay extra for that shit,” She replied, the carelessness in her eyes dropping at the thought of their evening. He’d be back with clients, one for each of them, sometimes more.

He always came back with clients.

“And to think, I get to see them for free,” Grace teased, nudging her socked foot into her friend’s thigh to try garner some kind of amusement. But the moment was gone. The small bit of heaven they’d had between one another was gone. Because they knew this was it. This was all it would ever be.

Her bottom lip quivered. She wanted her brothers. She wanted her home, her real home, she wanted her old bed, her old room. She wanted her mother, she hadn’t wanted her mother in years. She even wanted her father, even if he was drunk as a skunk like the last time she’d seen him. She would take it. She wanted her normal job back, she swore she’d never complain about waitressing again if it meant being away from this. She wished she could bundle Grace up, disappear, just the two of them, far far away from all of this. Where they would never be able to touch either of them ever again. Where they would never be used as slabs of meat for his amusement.

A small, pale hand slipped into hers, her fingers warm and grounding as they intertwined with hers. She hadn’t realised she was crying until she looked up and saw Grace with her eyes welled up too. The pair had never been able to stand seeing the other cry without choking up.

Grace’s summer sky eyes were wide; fat, remorseful bunching tears on her perfect lash line. They were still in their pyjamas, hair still messed up, love bites and mysterious fingerprints lining her throat from where last night's customer had gotten too rough.

She was dragged into a hug, an embrace she only ever felt from Grace. Those men, those vile men only ever sought pleasure, cold, aggressive pleasure that soiled the very meaning of the word. But Grace was soft. Warm. Gentle. Grace was everything she needed to keep her head on her shoulders. Grace was every bit of her she wasn’t, like the pair had been cleaved apart atom by atom at birth and when they hugged it was as though their bodies knew one another the way you only know yourself. Like two halves trying to stitch themselves back together.

And they were both crying. Crying for the lives they’d had before all of this. Before those men that came at night, handing him money at the door, before they put on their bedroom voices and sultry eyes. The performance of a lifetime. She missed her brothers, she thought of what she was going to write in her next letter home, though she knew she would never get a response. She wished she hadn’t been so hard on them. She wished she’d gotten a chance to say goodbye properly.

“I want to go home,” She sobbed, a calming hand running through her hair as Grace soothed her, though she could tell by the way her face nuzzled into her neck that the sentiment was shared.

The two nineteen year olds held each other, the only solace they had in this world being one another’s gentle embrace. The only person they would ever need in the cruel hands of a world like this.

“I’ll be your home,” Grace mumbled, the words dying on her skin as the tears fell down her own cheeks, “I’ll be your home as long as you need one,”

She nodded, a silent thankyou for the selfless offer. Golden curls surrounded her vision, Grace’s arms squeezing her tighter. As if to assure her that this was it. This was all she would need. That she was never, ever letting go.

And then, silently, tiredly, Dove woke up alone.

“Good morning,” She chirped, Marc wincing at the perky nature of her tone. He sat up with a wince, his back screaming in aches from the hard sofa. It was a wonder he’d gotten any sleep at all, let alone not woken up when she’d seemingly left the room for a wander around.

“Where have you been?” His voice was gravel, a rumble of fatigue erupting from his throat. He took in the flowy bottoms she wore, the basic white shirt she’d thrown on over it and the sunglasses perched on her messy hair. In her hand was a loose, netted bag, entirely crammed with fruits. Mangoes, pomegranates, bananas, the biggest oranges he’d seen in years. He remembered Layla feeding him one at their wedding, remembered thinking they were the best thing he’d ever tasted. As if to read his mind, she took one for herself and handed him the entire bag.

“Exploring. Getting breakfast. Your phone’s been buzzing, I think your friend needed you,” She said, the spirited tone in her voice never dropping as she slumped on the bed, “I still stink of airport,”

“Go take a shower,” Marc resolved quickly, peeling back the orange, the sticky juice running over his fingers immediately. Fresh, better than any fruit he’d had in England that had been packaged and stored and frozen.

He barely saw the way her eyes twitched at the word as she tucked into her own fat slices of the citrus. “Can’t, there’s only a bathtub,” She said, cheeks full with syrup, “I think they were expecting a honeymoon, there’s all petals and candles and shit,” She said, her eyes flicking to the window to see the outside world.

“So just have a bath-”

“What’s your friend say?” She cut him off, though there was no malice in her tone. Only intrigue.

Wiping his hand clean, he reached into his pocket for his crappy burner phone. The single text from his friend with a thousand connections all over Cairo read:

Harrow is here. Aali’s waiting in Khan el-Khalili for you and your friend, said he’s got insight where they’re heading. Said some of Harrow’s men are on his tail. Better hurry, Spector.

Marc expected as much, though he’d have thought he’d have at least enough time to have breakfast before the day’s stress would already begin.

“One of his informants is waiting for us not far from here. I’ll call us a cab,” Marc replied, scarfing down the last of the tender segments, trying not to groan at how they exploded in his mouth.

“Informants,” She echoed, her eyes wandering the ceiling as she herself let the saccharine juice slide down her throat, “Makes us sound like James Bond. Although I’m pretty sure the movies would have gone a lot different if Bond got killed and resurrected by some ancient deities,”

Marc said nothing, focusing his attention on looking for a nearby taxi rank.

“I mean I suppose they do kind of have him die over and over again, when they need fresh meat to keep their movies running. I never really understood the whole thing for Bond, he seems narcissistic, arrogant at best. If you ask me, the movies don’t need more men fucking the pretty women and killing anyone they can get their hands on. The entire thing is just sixty years worth of men tugging themselves to fast cars and blood and the two dimensional women getting seduced by the hot sociopath-”

“Something’s wrong,” Steven said from inside the body, the first he’d spoken up in two days, “Something’s wrong with her,”

“Aside from the fact she doesn’t know when to shut up?” Marc asked, though he too had noted the unusually chatty mood she was in today, “No wonder you two get along so well,”

“Marc,” He snapped, his brown eyes large and concerned as he stared at her from the mirror, “I’m serious. She never waffles on like that unless she’s bothered by something,”

“And the whole shaken not stirred thing? Talk about pretentious-”

“She’s talking about the politics of a martini. I think she’s just had an extra dose of sugar this morning,” Marc shut his phone off after confirming a cab, his own hardened eyes flicking to where the woman seemed to be lost in her own spiel to even notice he hadn’t yet said a word.

“Talk to her,” Steven ordered, though his eyes never tore from her troubled gaze at the ceiling.

“And like, were it any other franchise, twenty seven movies seems ridiculous. Imagine twenty seven Harry Potter movies? Everyone would be old as hell by the time they finished. Harry Potter and the Midlife Crisis sounds shit-”

“Are you feeling okay?” Marc cut her off, her head snapping to his as if to be yanked out of a train of thought. Her eyes looked bleary, as if she still had yet to fully awaken.

“Huh?” She asked, briefly looking away to grab a plump, fuzzy peach out of the netted bag, “Yeah, I’m peachy,” She snickered to herself before realising he wasn’t laughing at all. Not even a small smile. “Come on, that one was too obvious,”

“Steven said you’re trying to distract yourself,” He said, a hint of an accusation in his tone. He caught the moment her innocent expression faltered for a slight second, before the mask slipped back on and her bright smile was plastered across her too tightly scrunched cheeks.

“Nonsense.” She brushed off, though her eyes quickly trailed away from his, leaning for a small backpack of her belongings. “Are we heading out now?”

With that, the woman strode towards the front door, dropping her sunglasses back over her eyes.

“I’ll meet you down there,” She said over her shoulder, briskly leaving Marc to get some real clothes on for the day, having only slept in an old shirt and some shorts.

“I’m telling you, mate. There’s something up,” Steven said, finally turning to his alter who stood, lost for words, his eyes softening at her retreating figure.

And Marc knew he was right. He could deny it all he liked, but it didn’t stop it from being true.

And just like that, the woman had become a total mystery to him once more.

“So where exactly was it you said your informant was?” She asked, the two of them standing in a back alley, Marc’s eyes glued to his phone as he awaited further instructions.

“Somewhere around here- you know it’s kind of difficult to type these things when he’s being tracked by trained mercenaries,” Marc snipped, making the woman roll her eyes as she leaned against the sandstone wall. Sighing through her nose and pursing her lips, she readied to open her mouth again, no doubt about to say something that would only serve to piss him off more when her ears caught the sound of a muffled scream.

Head flicking up to the top of one of the buildings, she scanned Marc’s face for any sign of alarm, only to find him still staring at his little black phone in frustration. Thinking she was simply imagining it, she readied herself to brush the sound off, when she heard it again, a moan of pain accompanying the yelp.

“Did you hear that?” She asked, standing up straight, her ears pricked to the rooftops.

“Huh?” Marc sounded annoyed, though his face melded into concern when he saw the focused look in her eyes, attention caught between the terraces, “What? Hear what-“

“Shhh,” She raised her hand to silence him, slapping her hand fully over his mouth when his lips parted with a pissed off quip ready to roll off his tongue. Her head snapped to one rooftop in particular, her eyes wide and worried as she heard the switch of a blade, a gasp of a beaten man and a chuckle of five, sinister voices. “They got him, they got your friend.”

“Where?” Marc asked, phone long forgotten as he grabbed her hand off his mouth, barely needing to question how she knew. His senses had become so far enhanced with Khonshu’s suit as well, it was only natural that she’d started to feel the full effects of her powers too.

“Over there,” She pointed in the general direction as Marc immediately set off for a fire escape leading to the upper levels.

“You stay here, I’ll go get him-”

“What- Stay here?” Came her immediate protest, “I can help! Let me help,”

“Absolutely not, you’ll just slow me down,” Reeling back in offence, Marc cast her a glance when he saw the hurt in her face, her lips pouting slightly and eyes drooping in sadness, “Don’t give me that look. I just don’t want you to see something you might not like,”

Marc knew what those mercenaries would do to his informant, what they would do to them if they so happened to stumble across them. The thought of their dirty, blood stained hands on her, hurting her, it was enough to have Marc disregard any kind of puppy dog eyes she gave him. No matter if it did make his chest twinge with guilt. He should be nicer to her, he chastised himself.

“Let the mutt have a chance,” Teased a booming voice from behind the two of them. Dove whirled around, stumbling backwards into Marc’s chest when she saw a ten foot tall skeleton of what seemed to be a bird-man type animal. Its concave eyes leered down a long beak at her smaller figure, the huge creature seemingly quite relaxed as it leaned in, its chest broad covered in wraps of linen as if he were once mummified.

Jumping back in freight as the bird got closer, Dove yelped as she felt Marc’s arms wrap around her biceps to stop her from stumbling over herself, “What the fuck is THAT?”

Khonshu only laughed, his deep timbre shaking her to her bones.

“This is Khonshu, I’m his avatar. Same way you’re Seth’s.” Marc said bitterly, glaring at the stupid bird that seemed to find her terror hilarious.

“I think my little lamb would do nicely, Spector,” Came another voice, and a dark phantom emerged from behind the silhouette of the bird headed god. The air escaped her lungs, and she would have stumbled even further back had Marc not been behind her, Seth’s dark face coming into view as if he had been summoned by the very mention of his name, as was the rule with every child’s nightmare.

His night black eyes peered down at her from atop a set of grinning, blade-sharp teeth, jaws pulled into a mix of amusement and threat. His body towered over even Khonshu once he stood at full height, broad arms muscled and fleshed out unlike the skeleton, his own staff also grinning at the horrified woman.

“Come now, little lamb,” His dark growl of a voice had her knees weakening and bones shaking the moment she heard it. The voice that had been haunting her since that night in London, when she’d woken up with blood covering her head to toe. “We’ve got a job to do,”

She couldn’t go back, she couldn’t go so easily this time.

“Keep away from me,” She hissed, Marc releasing her as she trembled and retreated when Seth began prowling towards her, “I’m warning you, I am not going back to being your little puppet again- this is my body- you’d do well to get that into your head real fast-“

Seth simply laughed, Khonshu echoing him, making Marc’s head whip towards the moon god with an irritated frown. It was clear she was terrified, as would Marc be if he had a master so cruel and heinous to be controlled by. The thought only twisted the knife of guilt chiselling away at his gut further.

“Can’t you get him to leave her be?” Marc snapped, turning his attention to his own god with a sneer and a cold look in his once soft eyes, “We’re more than capable of handling a few mercs, why drag her into this?”

“I am not the one who dragged her into this, I would remind you, Spector,” Khonshu’s words cut deep, hardening the man’s expression more, “And even if I wished to stop this, Setekh is brother to Osiris. He holds more power, both in the eyes of the Ennead and in his own being, than I ever will. To go against him would be a death sentence for us both.”

Marc sucked his teeth, not ignorant to the commotion between the two to his right. Seth leaned in, a large, clawed hand outstretched as if to stroke her hair in an unnervingly gentle fashion. The same way he had the first moment he’d met the god of death. It reminded Marc of a patronising father, caressing a dimwitted child, or even an unsuspecting dog heeling for treats. The hand was met with a swift strike away by the human woman, eyes wide with fear, chest rattling with dread, akin to a cornered cat lashing out in self defence.

The four beings seemed to stop with her action. Marc’s eyes went between her and Seth, and for once Khonshu seemed to have gone quiet. And then, after a moment of painful emptiness, Seth chuckled once more. Not amused anymore, but a bitter rumble of fury, one that had Dove’s heart plummeting into her stomach, feeling as if the entire contents of it would come up any second now.

“The little lamb has fire?” Seth’s canine like head tilted, his tall, pointed ears going with it. Though, they didn’t flop like a dog’s would, no. They seemed to point towards her, sensing the unfiltered terror that washed through her bloodstream. A predator locked in on its prey. A wolf descending on a lone sheep.

“Keep away from me,” She repeated, the anger still in her tone, though it had now been diluted by the fear, the tremble in her throat giving her away. Seth grinned, though the smile was tainted. The jaw pulling into a snarl, his face becoming all the more sinister.

“I told you. You’re mine now, lamb,” He barked, his hand darting out and roughly grabbing a thick knot of her hair from the back of her skull, a mewl of shock slipping past her lips, “You’d do well to obey me next time,”

Obey. Obey him. She could think of nothing worse. She wanted to just kick and scream and spit and lash out all the more, writhe away from his touch, his touch that reminded her of his. As if he was no longer a ghost from her past, but was now haunting her still through the God of Death. She was tired of her body being taken from her; tired, so fucking tired of being told to sit and obey. She had obeyed. She had sat patiently, been the compliant little girl bending to a man’s vile words, she had been putty in his wretched palms.

She had obeyed him before, and now Grace was gone.

There was a single second where her gaze cut to Marc’s, eyes pleading with his coffee brown irises that seemed to diminish in all of their anger the moment she locked eyes with him, begging for help with a childlike terror, mouth pursed open ready to scream.

“Mar-” Was all she whimpered, before Seth’s claws latched onto her and her expression froze.

Marc was sure he’d killed her, was sure he’d crushed her fragile cranium in his bare hand just to prove to her the consequences of lashing out, the breath escaping his own lungs as he watched it happen, half guessing he was about to bite down on her soft face with those monstrous teeth of his.

But there was no blood, no chunks of flesh ripped from her as he thought. No scream of pain and torture.

Instead her scared face morphed into one of an entranced nothingness, eyes drooping from their usual expressive nature, chest evening out into calm breaths. Her pupils swirled in their pools of inky blackness, growing, devouring the rest of her iris, the whites of her corneas disappearing as the darkness took over, until she, too, looked down at him with malicious black sockets.

Her suit grew around her. Spreading over her clothes: a tight, black second-skin, gold bone-like details spindling around her limbs as the sable suit spread down her entire body. The muzzle slipped over her mouth and nose, as if she were a dangerous mutt in need of chaining. Controlling. Being taught to heed to its master. Marc knew it was Seth’s way of making her feel even less in control.

He said her name, taking a wary step in her direction, approaching a cornered animal in a snare. Her head seemed to tilt, midnight eyes locking in on his wary figure, though there was nothing behind those pools of darkness that gave hint to any recognition from the woman.

Because she was not there anymore. This was not her. This was Seth’s pawn, his puppet. His mongrel of a marionette. His Hellhound.

He called for her again, raising a large, olive hand in her direction, even if to lower the muzzle, even if to make her more human and less animal, only to be met by a husky growl from behind the wretched thing, a warning to keep away.

Marc’s chest felt pierced seeing her like this. Entirely not herself, entirely Seth’s play thing. A wild beast that would rip him to shreds if she got the chance. The healed bite on his thigh burned where she’d attempted it last time.

Seth laughed again, releasing his grip on her skull, where the two, upright ears now grew out of the hardened metal mask, no doubt an ego boost to his own handsome features.

“Don’t bother, Spector,” The god rumbled with sick delight, the woman’s head lowering at her master's voice, “She is entirely mine until I say so,”

Marc’s chest puffed out in annoyance, daring to stare down the God of Death for the offending comment. She was not his, she was a person. She was her own person, with her own mind and body that had been stolen from her, if a mind and body could even be taken from someone. Her soul; her sweet, gentle soul that Marc had started to adore was lost from those eyes, those feral caves of shadows that scanned the rooftops for their target. The life was gone from them, smothered by the darkness, by the bloodlust. The Hellhound was all that remained.

She stopped at one particular point as she had done when she was once again herself, waiting obediently by her master's side for a command.

He gave none, simply looking down at her approvingly before nodding a head in the direction of the mercenaries. That was all the signal she needed.

Marc had barely any time to prepare himself before he was scrambling after her darting figure, a black streak in front of his eyes that seemed to move faster than even his own brain could keep up with.

The hunt was on. The Hellhound had smelled blood.

She had given him a run for his money, quite literally. The Hellhound was fast, lithe, stealthy. Silent even when running at full pelt towards her target, even when jumping between buildings and sliding under thick planks of wood left over from decaying furniture. Never ceasing for breath, never slowing down for her partner in crime who was struggling with his human lungs to keep up with her.

Finally, the five mercs came into view, along with his informant who had certainly seen better days. His bloody nose and busted eye seemed the least of his worries however when Marc caught the glint of a switchblade in the sunlight, the knife being plunged into his gut before the two of them could get there, no matter how fast they had been.

Hellhound made the vault between the buildings in one, landing on the edge of the rooftop effortlessly, her demonic eyes narrowing in on the five men that stared back at them. Marc was shortly behind her, hopping down the short wall to the rest of the terrace he huffed as he caught his breath, coming to stand beside the woman.

“Oh shit,” Marc started, the mercenaries turning to look at the odd pair that watched them tensely, “You killed him? We needed to talk to that guy about a dig site,”

The men smirked, eyeing up the Hellhound with malicious intrigue. They missed the way her gloved fingers extended out into deadly claws, or the way her eyes honed in on the large blades they wielded, thinking of every way she would be able to disarm them.

“Guess I’m gonna have to talk to you instead,” Marc sighed, taking a single step towards the men as Hellhound widened her stance, two of them breaking away from their group to come near her.

“You’re too late. You’re never gonna find Harrow,” The tallest one commented, tossing his blade into the air in a gloating fashion, his smirk never leaving his face.

“Really?” Marc asked, watching the display with a tired eye roll, “Oh, what are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?”

The man carved a line in front of him with his blade stepping towards Marc while two of the others headed for the woman who had yet to show any sign of alarm at the scene. Marc readied himself to avoid the blades, his fists coming up to block his gut, hoping she would leave some part of them for the crows to pick at atleast.

He had seen what she had done to those Jackals. Men with knives wouldn’t touch her.

As if on cue, the men lunged for each of them. Marc busied himself with the three coming his way, a boy no older than sixteen following his peers blindly with a knife that looked uncomfortable in his young palm. But the bloodshed came from Hellhound.

The more broad of the two went first, serrated blade outstretched from his meaty arm. His hand was soon stopped by four blade-like claws digging into his wrist, slicing his veins down to the bone, blood spurting from him near immediately. He squealed, though the shock of his hand nearly being ripped off was nothing when her other palm was brought across his face in a slashing motion.

A centimetre higher and his eye would have been taken clean out.

The knife was dropped, a petrified look in the man’s eyes as thick blood streamed down his jaw, the second man ducking out from behind him with his own knife ready. He threw one slash towards her neck, already protected with a thick layer of the leather like suit, making the small weapon effectively useless had he even gotten close to her.

Which he didn’t.

She’d already easily dodged his advance, coming up to grab the back of his shoulder and smash his face against the stone wall behind them with a sickening crunch. Three of his teeth spilled onto the stone floor, nose flooding with the metallic liquid that dripped into his mouth. Claws dragged up into his hair, pressing harder than Seth had when he had grabbed her in a similar way, until she felt flesh squish and blood trickle over her palm. The man screamed, squirming under her grasp, which only had her holding on tighter, wrenching at his skull until he dropped to his knees and the knife slipped from his grasp with the white hot pain he was in.

Her gaze dropped to her left where Marc was still fighting the men that had headed for him, only to hear the younger boy behind them.

“In your face, foreigner,” He spoke in his Arabic tongue, throwing his smaller blade towards Marc’s head as the man was busy fending off an attacker.

But the blade never made it far. Her black, leathered hand snatched the knife by its serrated edge, though the woman did not show any signs of wincing at the sharp blade. Why would she? When all she felt was a lust for revenge watching the boy shrink back in fear, realising he was now without a weapon and had drawn the attention of the wolf looking creature.

She was a picture of a nightmare as she tossed his knife to the ground effortlessly, the darkness of her eyes swirling with rage as she stepped towards him. Hellhound wasn’t sure who that man was, the man who had tried to touch her infront of her master, the same man who had tried to caress her last time she was freed. She didn’t know him, but there was part of her writhing with anger that he had almost been harmed. Didn’t care for him, but was ready to rip this boy to shreds for attempting to hurt the man.

“Wait!” Marc called, knowing what she was about to do to that child. The two men that cowered, soaked in blood, were evidence enough that she was just as brutal as she had been the last time she’d been freed. But that boy was just a kid. Hellhound may not have a moral compass but he sure as hell did. As did Dove. And he knew she would hate herself if she knew what she was doing. If she hurt a kid. “Stop!”

But he didn’t have to intervene as the other man he’d been fighting tackled her from behind. The distraction seemed to have been her downfall as he managed to restrain his arms to her sides. She let out a snarl of anger, throwing her head back in an attempt to fend him off, only for him to wrestle her towards the edge of the building. Digging her heels into the floor, she squirmed, thrashing in his hold enough to have him loosen the slightest amount. She managed to dig her claws into his thigh, the man yawping in pain, shoving her hard to the side, aiming to have her over the side of the rooftop.

Call it luck on the man’s part, but his desperate strength seemed to be enough to toss her over the sharp drop, over the edge of the four story building, high enough for anyone to break enough bones to cause serious damage. If not death.

Marc had barely been able to stop her, though he knew better than those men that Seth would heal her, since he’d been so preoccupied fighting his own challenger, one he’d only just been able to disarm before she’d been thrown.

“Marc, don’t do it, Marc” Steven begged from the reflection of the knife, “Stop it, go help her. Just stop this,” The English man pleaded, his eyes worried as Marc began to feel a pull from inside the body.

His breath drew short, his head switching between the alters as Steven used his moment of weakness to take over, his only thought being to help his Dove.

Marc took over the body once more, ripping his consciousness back from Steven, to find himself in a taxi?

Taking a quick moment to understand where he was, he turned to the driver with a panicked tone, “Stop, please!” He asked, his Arabic rusty from what he’d been able to pick up on his missions and through Layla.

“You’re speaking Arabic, eh?” The driver asked, bustling around in his seat to glare at Marc. “Why are you acting like a foreigner?”

“Where are you taking me?” The man demanded, sure he already seemed batshit crazy to the innocent driver who looked just as confused as Marc felt.

“You said picking up your friend?” He replied, a pissed off look on his face. As if to have summoned the beast herself, a loud slam hit the bonnet of the taxi. It happened almost too fast, Hellhound stood tall on the car, a dent where she had dragged herself up onto the metalwork, her targets back in her sight. It wasn’t until Marc ducked out the car that he saw the five guys coming out of the building, seemingly relaxed until they saw the seething woman staring at them.

“Let me talk to you,” Marc yelled over the bustle of the traffic. The men looked at one another, the two of the more bloodied men taking one glance at where the woman hopped off the bonnet and scrambled to get away, leaving their other three partners on their own.

“You just let us go man,” The youngest said, watching the two with confused eyes, though the mercenary that had thrown her off the roof seemed to sicken visibly at the sight of her standing alive and well, looking more than furious.

The trio booked it before either of them could take a step further.

Taking off into the crowd, a whippet of a dark phantom once more, gaining on the three perpetrators faster than they could have imagined. Her boots were silent as they pounded on the stone floor below, as if she were a wraith coming to haunt their souls for running, a demon chasing their shadows. Inescapable. Inevitable. A hunter descending on its kill.

Marc took off after the leader and the youngest one as they skidded around a sharp corner of the bazaar, Hellhound pouncing after the other who decided to take the next corner in a desperate attempt to lose the two pursuers. But he was not so lucky. Hellhound was faster.

Two clawed hands latched onto his shoulders, shoving him roughly to the wall. The man was lifted clear off his feet, the beast of a woman scraping his body against the sandstone as if he were dead weight. He could do nothing but squirm as her grip tightened, thumbs sinking into his collar bones beneath his thin jacket. He hissed in pain, eyes widening as she leaned in with those sinister black sockets.

“Where’s Harrow?” A deep rumble came from her feminine chest, Coptic falling from her muzzled lips, the sound of it so vile he worried of pissing himself. Unlike anything he had heard before. Something so ancient he cursed whoever the being was that had disturbed the monster within her.

The man whimpered like a babe, squirming under her hold, only to have her force him harder into the wall until cracks appeared behind his frame where her strength concaved the material.

“Where is he?” She snarled in Arabic this time, her muzzle dropping around her jaw to reveal her elongated canines, snapping at his jugular in impatience.

“I don’t know! I don’t know!” He mewled, his head twisting to get away from the creature, eyes squeezed shut in the hopes of his death coming quick and painless. “I swear, Abdulla, th-the one your friend went for, he was the one hired by Harrow. I don’t know anything,” He begged. She took a moment to stare him down through those soulless eyes of hers, before she gave a final grumble of feral anger and dropped the mercenary onto his shaking legs. Within a single blink, she had tore off to find wherever Marc had gotten to, not sure who he was yet but knowing he was different from these other men she saw through her puppeteered mind.

When Marc came to the second time after being dragged from fronting, his face was wet with sweat and something thicker, more copper smelling. His hands were sticky with the same substance, and it took him just a moment for his eyes to adjust to realise he had plunged a knife into Abdulla’s chest, a look of distant terror on the man’s face that soon dissolved into lifeless eyes rolling back as he fell to the ground.

The knife dripped with the last moments of the man’s life, Marc’s hand gripping the weapon tightly as he tried making sense of where he was. Somewhere out of the city, further away from prying eyes and civilians that a scene like this would alarm. A rocky causeway, a clearing atop a cliff of sorts, deserted and quiet where he could have his crisis in peace.

That is until he heard the laboured breathing behind him, a grunt echoing through the clearing. A dragging sound across the grainy sand beneath his feet, scraping against the rock that jutted out of the embankment.

Marc whirled around, Hellhound standing over the body of the man she had gone after, whether he had returned to help his friend or she had killed him on the spot he didn’t know. She stood eerily still, watching his face for any sign of life, to which Marc saw there was none at all, as if waiting for anything else to cross her path and end up on the receiving end of her claws.

A yawp of pain snatched their attention before Marc could approach her, though he was still unsure if that person receiving her wrath would be him. The man’s heart fell to his feet when he realised it was the kid, the young boy who had no clue of the world he was getting himself into, that had decades ahead of him to change his life around. He saw himself in those scared, almond eyes; saw himself at seventeen angry and hating the world, wanting only to hurt and be hurt by everyone around him as if to prove his bitterness right.

But there, on the sandy floor, the boy tried to crawl away with whatever strength he had left in his tired limbs that already seemed to have taken a slashing. By his own knife or Hellhound’s razorblades, he wasn’t sure.

A mean look settled on the man’s face, knowing what they had to do with the sole remaining witness, the last person who could give them information.

“Where’s the tomb?” Marc bit, but the boy was not listening.

His eyes were settled on the Hellhound, her figure silent, still. Black eyes trained on him, never wavering, never blinking. The boy, too scared to so much as rip his attention from the woman, dragged his lame leg away from the creature, knowing she would take the single second he looked away to strike. A jackal circling a rabbit in a snare.

“Take him to the ledge,” Khonshu murmured behind the two of them, Marc’s eyes turning down for a split second in sadness. He didn’t want to do this, he thought he was better than this. Hurting children, threatening little boys for problems that weren’t their’s.

He was no better than his mother.

“He’s just a kid,” Marc all but whispered, as if he knew how pathetic it made him seem to the god. But it was true. The boy couldn’t have been older than his late teens. He was just a boy.

“He’ll talk,” Khonshu reassured, though Marc knew he had no problem hurting those that endangered their mission, all in the name of protecting the greater good. But Marc knew better. There wasn’t a single bone in his body that wanted to threaten that kid any longer.

Just as the man pursed his lips to refuse, drawing a line in the sand that even he wouldn’t cross, another behemoth figure appeared behind the three of them, the warmth seeping from the humid air as if he had washed the group in a numbing haze the second he arrived.

“Go show him your bark is as bad as your bite, little beast,” Seth purred into her ear, his figure towering over her statuesque body. The two were a mirror of one another, her demeanour a projection of Seth’s darkest wishes. A phantom of chaos. An angel of death. A reaper of whoever Seth condemned to her paws.

A dog now with a command, Hellhound stalked forward, yanking the boy by his front with a single hand, dragging his body across the rough terrain as if he were no more than a sack of flour. Lifting him into the air, he was held by little more than his shirt and tie, the fabric snatching against his throat tightly.

“Where’s the tomb?” Marc reeled back, the voice that erupted out of her chest was not her own at all, was not even of this earth. It was a dark hiss, and gave his body the same goosebumps as Seth’s had the first moment he heard it. The boy stammered, moving his mouth as if to want to give her the answer but to come up empty. It only served to anger the girl as she scruffed his collar tighter, snarling into his face for a response, “Where is it?”

But the kid swallowed whatever words he was going to give, pulling a switchblade out from his trouser pocket.

“Praise Ammit,” He murmured. It came out forced, as if he’d been told those words by the people around him, as if he didn’t entirely believe them himself but had been programmed to cut his losses if he were at an interrogation like this.

Swiftly, before Marc could intervene and save the poor kid’s short life, the boy brought the knife up to the shirt that seemed to be the only thing stopping him from plummeting off the cliff edge and slit the fabric clean in two.

As expected, his body could do nought else but fall, fall silently and morbidly down the twenty-foot edge until something cracked with a loud thud as he hit the ground.

Which was exactly the moment Dove returned to her body.

Her consciousness was all but dragged from the pit of her mind, a surge of breath entering her lungs as if she were coming up for air from being held underwater. Where the hell was she? Why was she stood at a cliff’s edge?

Her face felt sticky, hands coated in a honey like wetness. In fact her entire body felt tight with the stuff. And the smell, the bitter iron that burned her throat with every breath.

A frown settled on her features, looking down at herself only to see a tight black suit that covered her entire body, metallic prongs ribbing the gear like bones. But that wasn’t what caught her eye. It was the reddish sheen reflecting off the black in wet patches, the viscid liquid entirely covering where her hands were exposed, the only trace of the suit being more boning up to her fingertips where lethal sharp claws lay, dripping with more of the claret vermillion substance.

Blood. She was covered in blood. Why was she always covered in blood?

She must have made some sort of wail of freight because then hands were grabbing her shoulders. Yelping, squirming, shrieking some more, she quickly realised the hands were turning her around, hands that were equally as bloodied and bruised. Olive shaded hands she had come to know quite well.

Hands that were stroking her hair, holding her head to try get her to calm down. All sound had run away with her in the midst of her terror, it took her a moment to understand he was talking to her.

“You’re okay, you’re alright,” He cooed, the blaring panic clear as day in her eyes as she drank him in, her mind ticking at the fact he had blood on his face too, trickled from a large gash on the side of his head down his jaw.

“Yo-you’re hurt,” Was all she could say, his big hands encompassing both sides of her head as she raised her own fingers to touch his wound gently. It was then she was reminded, as Marc unintentionally drew away from the sharp claws, that she was indeed a weapon. She would hurt him with a single touch, and then there would be more blood, his blood on her. She couldn’t bare the thought of hurting him. She’d rather cut her own throat here and now than harm him. “Marc, what did I do-”

“It’s okay, you’re okay,” He repeated, stroking the side of face carefully, her eyes turning down in utter hopelessness. Her gaze briefly wondered over his shoulder to the bodies on the floor, her breath choking in her throat at the sight of them, the blood, oh fucking god theres so much blood- “Don’t look at that, you don’t need to see that, you’re okay,” Marc shushed her as her face filled with remorse, pulling her head into his chest, circling his muscled arms around her shaking body for a tight hug.

She squashed herself against him, hugging him back just as hard with the need for his comfort, burying her face into his top, eyes squeezing shut as if to hope to erase the nasty sight of the dead in front of them.

“Marc, what have I done?”

-

Taglists.

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO TAGLIST

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Authors note: I’m really sorry if you’re names here and you’ve not been tagged. I have tried y so double check your settings that you are tag-able by accounts who do not follow you. Hope youse enjoyed this update!

[mythicamagic]

Death Comes Knocking

AN: Not finishing projects seems to be the norm right now- so just take this lil 1,000 words of Lobo/Muerte x reader bc he gave me brain worms okay? Puss in Boots The Last Wish was so good you guys omg.

Pairing: Muerte x Female Reader

Rating: T

Summary: She's given a stern warning. 'No more of your kind are allowed' so she extends an offer to Death in return.

---

She’s seen him before, on the faces of those she’d loved. Their eyes would glaze over and become empty, void of all animation, becoming quiet and still as they took their last breaths. There- in the right hand corner of that glassy void in their pupils- the shadow of Death could be briefly seen, passing over and stealing all light.

The silk spinner has witnessed this countless times- from the luxury of these people’s bedsides as they peacefully passed, to freak accidents involving one too many drunken unicorns and a travelling puppet show. The world she inhabited was colourful, vibrant and endless- so it stood to reason that in this world, Death himself could be a real, breathing creature.

She just never expected to gain a personal audience with him.

“You’re becoming lonesome, inmortal.”

The woman jumped, startled so badly she lost grip on the white sheet she’d been taking down. A large hand snapped out to catch it mid-air, slowly lowering it back down to her in offering. It took a moment for her frozen hands to accept it, gazing up at the creature looming over her washing line. His shadow swallowed her whole. He gazed at her with a kind of unblinking- red eyed fixation- the kind that betrayed his identity before the suffocatingly still atmosphere did, as if time itself had frozen.

A wolf had entered her garden.

“Hate to be a bother…but when you get lonely it becomes a problem for me,” he continued in his perfectly polite tone. There was a faint, gravelly edge to his voice, but it hummed pleasantly in her ears rather than frightened her.

Recovering from her shock, the silk spinner folded her sheet and placed it atop a waiting pile.

“How so?” she found her voice.

“Well, you repeat the cycle, of course- the one that led you here,” he wandered around her humble garden, taking care to weave around bird feeders and windchimes without so much as a strand of fur brushing them. He moved on two legs like any human, not an odd sight. The graceful fluidity of his movements was alarming though. Deliberate and predatory. He was looping around her in a lazy circle that was slowly tightening. “It’s only natural…everyone’s predictable in a few certain ways: one of them is the universal truth that when you get lonely, you seek company,” he mused, finally stopping before her. “And the company of mortals just isn’t cutting it anymore, is it? Hm, my friend?”

He stood a good several feet taller than her. Not even attempting to crane her neck up, the woman tidied her basket and lifted it as if readying to walk back into her tiny cottage. “I’m fine. I don’t need anyone. They all die eventually, I’m not sure why you’re worried.”

With that said she took a step, only to find her wicker basket snagging on something- a sickle. The wolf practically used it as a fish-hook, turning her back to face him, and this time she had no choice but to gaze down the grey expanse of his muzzle straight into those vibrant red eyes.

“You’re not listeniiing~” he sing-songed in a gentle, cajoling tone full of too much teeth. He tilted his head with a patronising smile. “What cycle led you here?”

As if she could forget. “My creator was…lonely,” she murmured. “So, he made me, and eventually more of my kind.”

“Right you are! And I’m not such a big fan of that. Of your…kind,” a single deadly claw skimmed her cheek in a whisper of steel on flesh. The suggestion of it sent her heart racing. “You’re all so heavy. I can feel you.” All at once the playfulness vanished from his expression, leaving only a quiet sense of malice and frustration in his tight whisper. “The world won’t withstand the weight of too many of you.”

“So you’re here to stop me before I can even think about creating more immortals, is that it?”

“Bingo! My work here is done,” the wolf leaned back with satisfaction, and it felt like the garden could breathe again. Air entered her lungs, and the silk spinner shuddered quietly when his shadow drew away, allowing sunlight to kiss her skin anew.

With his silent warning given, the wolf swung his previously concealed sickle up onto his shoulder and happily strolled toward her humble gate, whistling an eerie tune.

“I’m not afraid of you,” she murmured, so quietly it was a surprise he heard her at all. But he halted immediately in his tracks. She could see his hackles rise a little just beneath the folds of his hood. “I’m not afraid, so there’s no reason for me to listen to you- Muerte.”

Death turned and met her even gaze. His silver fur fanned gently in the breeze, his tail flicking with agitation.

“Oho I really don’t think you want to go there,” light glinted off his sharp rows of teeth, the points glinting like treacherous mountain peaks. “True I can’t harvest your soul, but you’ve seen the life flashing before people’s eyes as I’ve taken them.”

He was suddenly there before her again, tilting her chin up with the flat of his blade. Her body automatically tensed, watching as the black specs of his pupils shined white, two moons hanging in a blood-soaked sky. “You were there, just as much as I was. You know- cordera- how painful it can be. How painful I can make it,” hot, panting breath fanned over her upturned face. Those rows of teeth were now inches from her ear as he leaned in close. “You won’t die, no- but are you really prepared to suffer me, over and over again, for breaking the rules?”

She swallowed. It was impossible not to picture the numerous grizzly ways she’d seen or heard people die.

Satisfaction leaked into his animalistic features. “Heh, thought so. Be seeing you.”

But I…I’m still alone.

Before he turned away, Death seemed to notice her expression. “If you’re really that hungry for company, then find the other heavy ones weighing this world down.”

“I don’t uh- get on well with the others,” she admitted weakly, knuckles relaxing from her death grip on the wicker basket. “We’d be living together if we enjoyed each other’s company.”

“Touché.“ He shrugged his large shoulders, resting a sickle on one with a bored look. “Well it’s not my problem, figure it out on your own time.”

Alarm flashed through her chest inexplicably as he finally turned away.

“Wait-“

“Carajo!” he hissed, glaring at her like she’d overstayed her welcome despite him being the one to approach her home. “What is it now?”

“Since you’re the one who has a problem with me creating fellow immortals- but I’m still hungry for company- the solution is right under our noses, no?” She smiled and dropped her basket to spread her arms wide, gesturing to the humble space situated on the mountainside. “You will become my companion.”

It amused her to see his dark features become blank with genuine surprise. His triangular ears perched upon his head flicked and flattened to his skull as if he’d tasted something sour.

“Cómo fue?”

“You are Death incarnate,” she said, confidence filling her tone the more she spoke. Yes- why hadn’t she thought of it before? This was perfect. “You won’t die- and I can’t be killed and won’t age. It makes sense to keep each other company.”

“You want…my company? Mine?” He shot her a look like she was crazy.

“Is that a problem?”

He tilted his head, falling silent for a long, silent moment. His eyes narrowed, sweeping over her frame as he stalked closer. “…You must be starving very badly, if your need has driven you to beg for me to be in your midst. Only the souls of the suicidal and desperate call for me.”

“I’m not quite that far gone in my apathy for life. I’m 500 years young,” she smiled, offering her human hand out to his monstrously large, silver furred one to stop him from baring too harshly down on her, stopping him in his tracks. “But yes, I am…famished,” the admission slipped out oddly breathlessly, though she was uncertain why.

His mouth slowly upturned, sizing her up in an entirely different way from before. Intrigue, perhaps? He looked just as hungry as she felt.

“Well, well. What big eyes you have,” he purred, gazing at her intently with a wicked gleam in his own red hues.

She returned his smile with one full of teeth as her hand became engulfed in fur and warmth.

From that day on, Pygmalion’s immortal bride kept Death’s company whenever he had a moment to spare.

---

End

[myperfectfatdads]

Dads Clothes

Dang bro I don’t have any extra clothes. “Yea same man” says Matt. You don’t have any clothes bro I mean this is your house you live here how do you possibly have no clothes. “This morning I did a huge run of laundry so it’s all in the wash and even more wet and dirty than the clothes we have right now” says Matt. Looking in Matt’s closet he’s right there is not a single piece of clothing. “See I told you bro” says Matt. Yeah I guess you’re right well is there any other clothes possibly we could wear. “I’ll see but you’re right coming back from a big day at the beach I sure do wanna change from these wet sandy swim suits.

“Oh I got it we can wear some of my dad’s clothes he has a ton of them here come on let’s go” says Matt. Are u sure bro one will your dad get man that we are wearing his clothes and two will his clothes even hit us I mean he’s on the bigger side of people. “Yeah they will be really big but it’s ok it better then wearing these sandy swimsuits and he will never know remember he doesn’t come back tell tomorrow we have the whole night to ourselves!” Says Matt. Going into his bedroom you look for some of his clothes and after you find some you try them on. “Yep just as I suspected these are huge on me” says Matt. You picked out a nice blue shirt, while Matt picked out a big grey shirt. “Woah man I know my dad is big but these clothes make him look huge” says Matt, yeah bro this is one of the biggest shirts I’ve seen! “Haha, man we look so funny in these I feel like my dad would be really mad though if he found out we are wearing his clothes so we just can’t let him find out” says Matt. Yeah no problem man your secret is safe with me I mean I’m wearing your dad’s clothes too. “Hey look at me, I’m wearing my dads overalls” says Matt. Haha that’s funny man there even big on you too! “Your right, hey let’s go down to the kitchen and get some food I’m starving” says Matt. While I’m the kitchen you notice that Matt’s face has stubble on it. Hey dude when did you start growing stubble? “What do you mean man at the beach today we already talked about this we both have stubble, also your so lucky you get to wear my dads shorts I have to wear his stupid jeans” says Matt. Oh yeah sorry man I totally forgot. “Is it just me or does a beer sounds really good right now?” Says Matt, a beer, bro I thought you hated beer. “I do but it’s just sounds super good right now I don’t know why.” Ok bro you do you. “Wow thanks burpppppppppp, what the heck that came out oh no where.” That’s strange man you never burp. “Yeah but I also don’t like beer so anything is possible, well I’m glad you get to spend the weekend here bro my dad will be home in the morning just make sure to change out of his clothes by than.” Sounds good bro I got you he won’t find out. “He shouldn’t need to my clothes should be ready in the morning before he gets home.” What the heck. “What is it?” Your growing a beard bro and its grey! “Omg your right what is going on Thats so weird you are too!” What, your right and mine it grey too! “Don’t worry about it to much man it’s probably just from stress it happens a lot I’ve heard.” Yeah bro it’s happens a lot to old people we are not old we’re only 22. “Well your right but we are at the age we’re we start to grow beards so I think it’s normal.” I guess your right. “I know these overalls are kinda weird but I kinda like them they just feel like they support me, also these jeans feel like the fit a bit better.” They fit better bro I swear they were huge on your just and hour ago. “I mean they are still big I don’t know maybe they shrunk, yawnnnn I’m getting tired bro what time is it?” Its 11 oh yeah it’s time for bed bro, where are we sleeping? “I mean we probably shouldn’t sleep in the same bedroom so you can sleep in mine for the night and I’ll sleep in my dads I guess.” Okay bro sounds good we’ll goodnight then. Saying goodnight to Matt you realize that his few strands of hair on his face turned into a whole bushy beard. Thinking it’s weird you don’t think much of it and go to bed. Waking up in the morning and getting out of bed the shirt that was super loose yesterday felt like it fit a lot better this morning. It was almost even a little tight but that’s weird you swear it was loose earlier. Going to wake Matt up you knock on the door but no response, maybe he is all ready down stairs. Walking down the stairs is a lot harder with back pain. Wait I never have back pain well maybe I just got a bad sleep last night, also I feel really heavy today so maybe that’s it. Then as you walk into the kitchen your let with Matt’s dad but wait he’s not supposed to be home tell later and why is he wearing the same clothes that Matt was yesterday.

In a deep voice the old man says good morning man. Hey Matt’s dad I thought you weren’t supposed to be home tell later. “What do you mean it’s me Matt good old burppppppp papa Matt, remember yesterday when I said these overalls felt good well yeah now they really feel good they have to support this big beer belly of mine. “Your keeping up quite to belly there too man. Look at yourself you are met with an old fat man.

Well I guess you’re right man when you get old like us it’s really hard to watch the weight. “Yeah that’s right I mean I felt like it gets bigger every day.” Well should I return these clothes to your dad? “No need dude also these are my clothes and don’t call me dad I’m only 63 haha.” Well thanks man this is my new favorite shirts for sure also do you wanna go out for breakfast it’s on me? “Yeah sure man I can eat, gotta keep up this belly burppppppppp.” Well so can I haha let’s go then.