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liliannadelaphinehartifelt · 2 months

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Lucifer + Alastor - [ NSFW 3 ]

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

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

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

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

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

“I’m so proud of you, my love.”

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

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

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

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

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

“What a pretty little thing you are,”

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

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

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

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

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

“Something bothering you, Rudolph?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Feels good, doesn’t it, baby doll..”

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

“Cum for us, my love…”

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

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

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

Milking you of every drop of lust in your body?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Gonna cum m’ gonna cum…!”

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

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

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

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

[ BONUS CONTENT + ]

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

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vicocaaisha · 2 months

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Crazy for You

Baek Harin x Reader Fic.

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

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

Requested by: @churim

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You don’t get it.

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

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

In the end, you felt helpless.

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

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

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

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

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

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

That will do the work! You thought to yourself.

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

It has a kiss mark? Harin thought to herself.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Speak.” Harin demanded.

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

She’s crazy for you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Send request guys, hehe.

#baek harin #pyramid game #pyramid game x reader #sung suji #baek harin x reader #jang daah #jang daah x reader

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sweetimpurity · 6 days

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On the Run

w.c. 1.5k NSFW

Chapter 1

The faucet drips slowly and the sounds of crickets and nightlife sing outside the cracked back window. It’s quiet in the dark motel room except for his heavy breathing and your consistent soft whimpers of pleasure. After the stress of having to leave everything behind, you’re trying to figure out how to live in the shadows, keep out of the light, disappear for a while so that some certain people don’t find you. You’re not to blame, you could never be to blame. It’s Miguel’s fault that you are in this situation, associating with the wrong people. He wanted to leave you out of this, he tried to be honest and tell you you’re too good for him and that you should just let him go. But you didn’t agree, or you just didn’t want to admit it was true. You’re in love with him, and nothing can stop you from being with him. Now you’re on the run, laying low until hopefully all this drama can pass. But at least you have each other…

“Good, baby?” He pants, leaning on his elbow, looking down over your face, his hand cradling your head as he thrusts his cock into your precious cunt over and over. “Oh-miggy…” you moan and it makes him even more determined. This is one of the first times you’ve felt safe in the last few days. You’ve been traveling for so long in Miguel’s car, trying to get to a small town no one would think to look for you. You both managed to check into some rundown motel in the dead of night. Finally settling in one spot and hoping it’s far enough away.

You’re needy for him, scared of losing him and knowing how bad things are for the both of you. You didn't judge him for the sort of people he associated with, but it made you scared to think that there are dangerous men looking for him right now, even as he makes love to you. In your eyes, he’s perfect, and for you he is sweet as can be.

He thrusts deeply, his cock dragging deliciously through your plush walls, pulling endless moans and whimpers of pleasure from your reddened lips. And you look at him with a face that drives him wild, looking like you could cry or cum at any second. Your lips are parted and your eyebrows creased, accepting all of his torturous pleasure. He looks down at you with a stern expression. He’s not smiling, but he’s not frowning, he’s focusing. Focusing on only you. “Oh Mig… Miguel…” you moan and he runs his fingers down the side of your face lovingly. “I’ve got you baby…” He says lowly and dips his head down to kiss your throat and your warm soft neck, working you up to make you sensitive, loving the face you make when you're overwhelmed by his touch. Your soft hands go up to press lightly on his broad chest and he knows you're close.

“So pretty babygirl… all mine… just for me, yeah?” He praises sweetly. He knows words are hard, impossible right now. He doesn’t need a response, he just wants to work you up, keep you flustered and your mind fuzzy. He knows it only makes your orgasm that much stronger when you're like this.

And he wants to give you the release you need. He feels guilty about this whole situation. He shouldn’t have let you get involved but he just couldn’t say no to you. And he couldn’t keep himself away, he’s desperately in love with you too.

You hum in response and your hand moves to the back of his neck, your fingers running through his soft hair as he keeps pumping deeply within you. He strokes his fingers down your flushed cheek, his thumb resting on your bottom lip, rubbing it softly before grabbing your chin and kissing your hungrily. He speeds up his movements, jutting his hips into your a little faster and you whimper in response to the new rhythm, closing your eyes tight, jaw dropped against his mouth.

Just then Miguel’s ears perk up to a familiar sound outside. He might just be imagining it but it sounds exactly like the car of one of the guys he knows. One of the men he thought he could trust but is now hunting him down. It was a very specific car and he could hear the sound of the engine along with the custom muffler he remembers so well. It’s not a sound he could easily forget or mistake. How did they find them so quickly? And why does it have to be now, right now in this most intimate moment?

His mind fills with dread but he doesn’t want to worry your, you’re still moaning his name and he hasn’t stopped fucking into your sweetness. He sighs and his face stays in its stern expression, his brow furrowing slightly in frustration that they didn’t get far enough away. “Miguel…” you moan again and put your hand on his shoulder, seeing that he’s distracted by something. “Baby…” He whispers, smiling and trying to hide the fact that they might have been found. But he doesn’t want to stop this yet. It wouldn’t be fair to you. He would never forgive himself for purposely bringing you into such intense sensitivity and then denying you release. “My baby…” He whispers and kisses your lips a few times. You whimper into his mouth, the only sounds being your soft moans, the gentle snap of your lips together, the squish of his cock into your slick and the threat of danger rumbling outside as Miguel hears the engine turn off and car doors slam shut.

He keeps kissing you deeply, your eyes closed in bliss but his eyes open, looking out the window to try and see through the blinds and pick up any movement outside. He glares toward the windows and around the room nervously but he comes back to kiss your lips, his tongue invading and dominating your soft, eager mouth.

He pulls away from the kiss, hearing a new noise outside, sounding like pounding downstairs on the doors of the first floor, and the sound gets louder the closer it gets. He looks over his shoulder, still pumping into you generously but now you know there's something wrong. “What is it?” you pant, still so sensitive, barely able to think straight. “Nothing baby… it’s nothing, it’s okay” He looks back at you and tries to soothe you even though he’s starting to get nervous himself. He keeps thrusting into you, a lot deeper now, determined to give you all his attention, looking in your eyes with his same dominant expression as you wither into a puddle of moans and helpless whimpers. He just needs to make your cum and then he can figure this out, but you're most important right now. Even he thinks he’s crazy for not acting when he knows there's danger, but seriously nothing else matters. He’d take a bullet for you any day.

“Cmon baby, c'mon… give it to me” He half-whispers and his deep voice gives you shivers. He reaches an arm down and hooks it under your knee, bringing it up just a little bit and keeping it there with his thigh so he can reach new depths within you. His cock presses perfectly to your sweet spot, making your whine and pout. He’s trying to push you over the edge, needing it to happen now. His fingers move down to your clit to keep things building and bring you there faster. “Mig-ah.. I…s’too much Miguel!” You beg him softly, and try to close your thighs around his waist, the pleasure completely overwhelming you. “Shhh…you can take it angel… cum for me baby…” He pushes into you harder now and his fingers work expertly on your clit. He feels your velvet pulsing around him and he knows you’re just about there.

The pounding on the motel doors gets louder and closer. Whoever is out there, if it’s who Miguel thinks it is, they’re not going to stop until they find what they’re looking for. And who they’re looking for.

You cry out in pleasure, his cock still stimulating your sensitive nerves. “Oh Mig- oh…” you whimper and just like that, you’re there. Your back arches off the bed and you take a deep breath as your orgasm takes over. Miguel watches and he can tell you’re about to moan loud. As much as he wants to hear your sweet voice moan over his cock, he doesn’t want the men outside to hear, he hopes they can just make a silent escape. He leans up and captures your mouth in a kiss right as you're about to moan out in ecstasy. Instead you moan into his mouth as your walls flutter around him in rhythm, your hands pressing to his chest as it happens. He holds your mouth hostage with kisses until you come down from the high and he pulls out quickly, making you whimper sadly at the loss of contact. He suddenly sits up and kneels on the bed, looking through the blinds seriously.

“Miguel…what is it?” you ask and catch your breath, so concerned as you try to sit up, your body tired and completely fucked out. “We need to go baby… I’m sorry”

...

#miguel ohara #miguel spiderman #spiderman 2099 #artists on tumblr #miguel fanart #miguel spiderverse #artists on tiktok #smut #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #atsv miguel #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguelohara #miguel x you #miguel fanfic #miguel atsv #spiderman 2099 x you

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bowieandqueen11 · 1 year

Text

Small Spoon / Joel Miller Imagine

Request: sis i am a simple woman

i saw small spoon joel and now i need a fanfic

GIRL I got you I got you @aninnai

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

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

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

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

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Scootch.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘As long as I get 50%.’

‘25% and you’ve got yourself a deal.’

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

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

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

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

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

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

‘Good night Joel.’

He hums. ‘Night, night, sweetheart.’

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

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

‘I love you.’

#the last of us #joel miller #tlou #joel miller imagine #joel miller x reader #pedro pascal #the last of us imagine #tlou imagine #tlou hbo #the last of us hbo #joel miller fluff #joel miller angst #joel tlou #joel the last of us #x reader

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blingblong55 · 11 months

Text

Sweet Nothing- Rodolfo Parra (includes Philip Graves)

Based on a request:

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

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

F!Reader, fluff, angst, soldier! reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Sunday...time?"

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

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

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

"I'll pick you up?"

"I don't see why not."

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

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

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

"Thank you, for giving me this chance."

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

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

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

"You look beautiful, sweet thing-"

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags: @anonymuslydumb

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

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diejager · 5 months

Note

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Be a doll and c’m’here, won’t you?”

Tag list: @craxy-person @crowbird @dead-cipher @iwannabealocalcryptid @iizx7y @mxtokko @yeetusspagheetus @capricorn-anon @perfectus-in-morte @sae1kie @yeoldedumbslut @bvxygriimes @distracteddragoness @konigsblog @havoc973 @angelcakes-22 @cassiecasluciluce @ramadiiiisme @ramblingsofachaoticthinker @ki-cant-spel @im-making-an-effort @love-dove-noora @jinxxangel13 @daisychainsinknots @0alk0msan @mul-pi @danielle143 @virginalsacrifice @beau-min @makayla-666 @urfavsunkissedleo @kaelysia @mixplara @notspiders

#x reader #cod mw2 #task force 141 x reader #task force 141 #shadow company #soap mw2 #soap x reader #ghost x reader #gaz x reader #john price x reader #price mw2 #ghost mw2 #gaz mw2 #philip graves x reader #phillip graves #monster 141 au #monster cod

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desos-records · 7 months

Text

[Spoilers for the Creeping Shadow]

"I missed you so much, Lucy."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#I'm losing my mind over this #lockwood & co #lockwood and co #anthony lockwood #lucy carlyle #locklyle #lucy x lockwood #lockwood x lucy #lockwood and lucy #the creeping shadow

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scoutswritingcorner · 2 months

Note

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

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

Facial Hair Headcanons

Hazbin Men x GN! Reader

TW:None??

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

-🦌Alastor🦌-

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🦆Lucifer 🦆-

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-🎰 Husk 🎰-

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

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

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

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

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

-🕷️Angel Dust 🩷-

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

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

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

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

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

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thesamoanqueen · 3 months

Text

Blackwater XVII

Raiting: 18+

Warnings: drama, street fights, violence, smut.

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

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

Vultures.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Y/N listen- he started and finished.

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

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

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

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

- Please what?

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

Him.

No way.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He cannot be serious…

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

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

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

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

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

- Jimmy!

- Don't you dare

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Let him go!

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

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

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

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

Stop them! Stop them!

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

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

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

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

She had seen and heard enough.

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Our pack.

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

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

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

How did he dare…

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

-He has permission – he announced dryly.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

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

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

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

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

Home.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Here?

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

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

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

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

#roman reigns fanfiction #roman reigns smut #roman reigns x reader #roman reigns x oc #roman reigns x y/n #roman reigns x you #roman reigns x black reader #roman reigns fanfic #wwe smut #wwe fanfiction #wwe fic #roman reigns fic #roman reigns one shot #roman reigns oneshot #roman reigns x female reader

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witchthewriter · 2 months

Text

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐜 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐡𝐚𝐬 𝐚 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐫 𝐰𝐢𝐟𝐞 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐢𝐧𝐜𝐥𝐮𝐝𝐞

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

Warnings: knife flirting, a bit nsfw but not much

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ | ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ ᴵᴵ

ISTP

Hufflepuff

Neutral Good or Lawful Good

Capricorn Sun, Cancer Moon, Libra Rising

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

・When you heard that you choked on your ale.

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

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

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

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

・Uhtred was like cupid trying to get you two together

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

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

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

・Just a girl and her bodyguard.

・A woman and her large shadow.

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

・He wanted everyone to know you two were together.

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

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

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

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

𝑹𝒆𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒑 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆𝒔

The Gomez & Morticia Adams

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

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

𝑹𝒐𝒎𝒂𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒄 𝑷𝒍𝒐𝒕 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒑𝒆

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

Sacrifice and Devotion

Challenging Social Conventions

𝑻𝒉𝒆𝒎𝒆 𝑺𝒐𝒏𝒈

Too Sweet by Hozier

𝑁𝑆𝐹𝑊 🔞

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

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

・The kiss had started off slow and steady.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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keirawantstocry · 3 months

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

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

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

hope youre having a good day :>

(also-🍓🍒🍎🍉🍑🍊🥭🍋🍐🥝🫐🍇)

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

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

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

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

Pac perked up. “Excuse me?”

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

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

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

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

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

A knowing smile stretched across his face.

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

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

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

Fit’s silence spoke wonders.

Yeah he fucking liked them a little dangerous.

#qsmp #my writing #fanfiction #poly morning crew #q!tubbo #q!pac #fitpacbo #q!fit #💋 anon

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starlostjimin · 3 months

Text

i know the feeling too, i've been inside the dark

Pairing: Bang Chan/f!reader Rating: Explicit Warnings: Unprotected sex (in the context of an established relationship; safe to assume proper discussions have been had), body image issues (Chan) Tags: plus size female reader, body image issues, established relationship, unprotected sex, a frankly alarming amount of pet names used, they're disgustingly in love your honour, pwp Summary: Your boyfriend comes home from work frustrated and with a serious case of not-good-enough-itis. You hope you can cure him the way he once cured you.

***********

The front door closes with a dull thud and you hear two more as your boyfriend’s shoes hit the back of the closet.

“Hey babe,” you call from the kitchen. “How was work?” A muffled grumble comes from the living room and you emerge to find said boyfriend face down on the couch, his head buried in a throw pillow. “That good, huh?” you ask, settling on the floor beside the couch and running your hand lightly along his back.

“Tmfkjiepafffee,” comes the response, and you can’t help but laugh.

“Want to try that again? Maybe in a language I know?”

Chan turns his head slightly to the side and repeats himself. “They dropped a surprise photo shoot on me.” He sighed. “It was supposed to be next week, but the photographer had something come up and they had to move the shoot earlier instead of later. So it was all of a sudden today, and I look like crap, and I ate ramen yesterday so I’m all puffy, and this stupid shoot is going to be in a magazine and -”

You put a gentle finger to his lips, stopping the avalanche of words before they canbowl him over any further than his thoughts clearly already are. You lean forward and kiss him gently before speaking, your lips dancing lightly over his and lingering a hair longer than was really your intention, always reluctant to pull away from him.

“Christopher Bang Chan,” you say, your voice soft. At the surprise on his face, you giggle. “That’s right, I’m bringing out the government name. I mean business, mister.”

His eyes soften as he looks over at you, waiting for you to finish speaking.

“You, my love, are your own worst critic,” you say. You run a hand lightly along his cheek and down his jaw. “Without even a shadow of a doubt, you’re one of the most beautiful men I’ve ever seen - inside and out.” You add on the last part when you see him preparing to argue back at you. “Even first thing in the morning, when everyone is a little puffy, and your hair isn’t brushed and your face isn’t washed and you have morning breath. You still blow the rest of the world’s population out of the water. It’s a little unfair, to be honest.” A giggle escapes you before you continue. “And before you say I’m biased because I’m hopelessly, overwhelmingly in love with you, did the photographer have any complaints today?” Chan shook his head.

“The director of the shoot?” Another head shake.

“The stylists? Makeup artists?” Shake.

“So is it possible, even just a little, that maybe you’re being too hard on yourself?”

“They’re nice people. They wouldn’t say anything. But I know I need to hit the gym harder.”

Your head drops back in mild exasperation. Chan’s confidence is never great, but he goes through periods like this where it seems like nothing can snap him out of it. You’re patient, always - you know his job has him in the spotlight and that kind of constant scrutiny would destroy a lesser man - but it kills you to hear him talk about himself this way. You take a deep breath and bring your head up to look at him again. You don’t particularly like using this method, but sometimes it’s all that will nudge him out of this headspace.

“Chan?” you ask, your voice dripping innocence. “Do you think I need to go to the gym more?” It feels like a dirty move - you’re definitely heavier than him, your curves soft and muscles undefined. But you are, thanks in no small part to Chan, okay with your body. On your good days, you like it, and even on your bad days you don’t hate it the way you once did. You know what his response will be, and he doesn’t disappoint you.

“What? No! You look amazing. I’m sorry baby, have I been dumping on you on a bad day?” Chan’s answer is instant and he bolts half upright, leaning on one arm and reaching the other out to you.

“No, you ridiculous man,” you say softly, smiling and taking the offered hand. “But if you can see me that way, when I’m significantly, to use your word, puffier, than you, then why can’t you extend the same kindness to yourself?” You squeeze his hand gently and encourage him to roll over so he’s laying on his back on the couch. “I couldn’t always say this, but you make me feel beautiful.” You climb up to straddle his thighs, leaning forward to cup his face in your hands. “And considering you look like you’re carved from marble, that’s something I never expected or, for the longest time, felt like I deserved.”

His fingers trace patterns on your thighs absentmindedly as his face flushes under your gaze. “You’re incredible,” he says. “You fit perfectly in my arms - like you were made for me. And when you laugh your eyes sparkle, and it feels like the sun has come out. Your hair is so pretty,” he lifts one hand to the back of your head and runs his hand through your hair before pulling you down to kiss you softly. “And you have the kindest heart I’ve ever known. I’m so lucky.” His voice catches in his throat and you can’t doubt his words for even a moment.

“Your arms hug me like you’ll die if I ever escape,” you say softly, running a hand along his bicep. “When you’re focused on something, you bite your lip in this very particular way. I can’t explain it, but it’s insanely hot. You’ve got this classically handsome face, like some ancient artist should have carved statues of you or something. You don’t have a bad word for anyone but yourself; you’re encouraging and loving and just straight up good to everyone you meet.” Your hands begin to play with the hem of his hoodie, and you shoot a grin at him. “Let me show you how handsome you are?”

You feel his agreement stirring below you before you see him nod, his hands reaching out to wrap around your waist as you lean forward and slide his hoodie up his torso. Holding onto you tightly so you don’t fall, he shifts into a sitting position, settling you more comfortably on his lap.

“God that’s hot,” you mumble as you pull his hoodie up and over his head. His chest is bare underneath it - he obviously just tossed on whatever he had in his bag after he showered off the photoshoot makeup at the studio. You lean down to kiss him deeply as you run your hands along his chest. When you reach his nipples his breath hitches, and you smile against his mouth. “So sensitive.” Your lips move to his jaw, then his neck, and before he can get a word out they’re wrapped around a dusky bud, your tongue flicking across it. Heat shoots to your core when you hear his gasp and feel his hands tangle in your hair. You nip at him lightly before moving over to pay attention to his other nipple.

You’re nothing if not fair.

A whine escapes his lips and you can feel his cock twitch below you. You tap his hand lightly to encourage him to release his grip on your hair and slide down to the floor in front of him, tugging on his legs to have him face you. He changed into sweatpants before coming home and you’re grateful for the ease of access it gives you when you hook your fingers over the waistband of those and his boxers and tug them down over his hips, waiting (mostly) patiently as he lifts them so you can free him of his cotton prisons. You slide them down slowly in the front, letting them drag deliciously over his cock before it springs free.

“I think I forgot to mention how hot this is.” You nose lightly at his cock, hard and already beginning to pearl precum at the tip. “Let me remedy that.” Your tongue strokes over him once, base to tip, before he’s engulfed in your mouth.

“Oh, fuck,” he stammers, and you giggle before relaxing your throat to take him as deep as you can before sliding back again to suck on the tip, working his shaft with your hand as you do. Your tongue swirls around the head as your cheeks hollow, and salt dribbles along it as his arousal grows. You slide slowly down his shaft again, keeping the pressure as tight as you can, and he shudders beneath you.

“Y/n,” his voice is practically a whimper as he pulls you up off his cock. You look up at him from your seat on the floor and the fire in his eyes threatens to burn you alive. “Too many clothes,” he growls, leaning forward and pulling your t-shirt over your head. You lift your arms to ease the process for him, and he groans when he spies your breasts unencumbered by a bra. Leaning down and placing his hands on your sides, he tugs you upwards and pulls you into his lap again, kissing you deeply. Your arms come up to wrap around his neck and you cling to him as you grind down on him. His hands on your hips follow your movement until he seemingly can’t handle it anymore and they slide up your torso to cup your breasts, his thumbs grazing your nipples in an echo of what you’d done to him earlier. When he begins to lightly pinch and twist them, you pull your lips from his and throw your head back.

“Chan, fuck!” the words fall from your lips much louder than you’d intended, but you decide your neighbours can be happy for you or they can fuck off.

“Pants,” he says in response, and you lift up onto your knees so he can slide them off of you. You lift one leg, feeling the cool air hit it as he slides the black leggings down, then shift your weight to lift the other one.

It doesn’t go as planned.

Shaky, your weaker left leg doesn’t hold your weight as well as your right leg did, and you collapse to the side, very nearly kicking Chan in the head as he tries to finish pulling off your bottoms. You erupt into laughter as he dodges before tossing your leggings to the side and leaning down over you.

“Sorry baby,” you say through your laughter. “Still think I’m hot?”

His smile is equal parts amused and heated as he answers. “The hottest. Now get back up here.” He drops a kiss on the tip of your nose before pulling you back up onto his lap, your heated core pressing against his still desperately hard cock. You roll your hips against him and the smile drops from his face, pure need replacing it.

“Please, y/n,” he murmurs, burying his face in your neck and covering it in kisses and light nips.

You have no interest in making him wait any longer, since that would also require you to wait. You lift your hips and reach in front of you to take hold of his cock. Angling yourself back just a bit to get the angle right, you slide onto him, your muscles immediately clenching around his thick length. Finally fully seated, you drop your head to his shoulder with a whimper. No matter how many times you fuck, it somehow always feels like the first time all over again - minus the slight awkwardness that comes from learning the particular needs of a new partner. The pause lasts only a moment before you’re moving instinctively, your hips rolling in the particular way that you know sends him over the edge. He guides you with a hands on the front of your hips, somehow making you feel tiny with the way his thumb can still reach your clit as he does so. He presses onto it with a tight rotation of his thumb, and you clench around him, feeling yourself shudder already.

“Not gonna last long if you keep that up, handsome,” you say through gritted teeth.

“Maybe that’s the plan,” he says, lifting his lips from your neck so he can look up at you, meeting your eyes.

“Fuck, you’re so hot,” you whine, another shudder passing through you as he rubs at your clit hard, all facade of finesse gone.

“Yes baby, that’s right,” he murmurs as your eyes close. “Come on my cock for me, show me how much you like it.” When your head drops to his shoulder, he presses his lips to your ear. “I know you like how I fuck you. You’re so good to me, love. Do one more thing for me and come on my cock. Please.” Desperation is clear in his voice and you drop down hard onto him once more before giving him exactly what he’s begging for. Your orgasm washes over you, sending uncontrollable shudders through your body as you press down hard into his lap, but you can’t stop moving. You keep fucking him through it, desperate for more and more as you cling to him with every possible part of you. It’s when you start to feel the wave begin to fade, his name drifting off your lips, a soft “Chan,” that his hands tighten on your hips and he drives into you again, once, twice, and you can feel his cock throb inside of you as he finds his own release. You move slowly, milking him through it, and only when he lets out a slight gasp of overstimulation do you stop, collapsing against him. He holds onto you tightly, rotating you both around so you’re laying on the couch again, but taking care to make sure he doesn’t slip out of you. Neither of you are ready for the loss of connection yet, and you both know it. You nuzzle into his chest and he tugs down the blanket that you keep draped over the back of the couch, pulling it over the two of you while you rest off your orgasms.

It’s a couple of hours later, you think, when you wake up fully, having spent the last however-long drifting in and out of sleep, pressed tightly against Chan’s chest. You trail a couple of kisses along his sternum as you look up at him, and find him looking down at you with so much love in his eyes you think your heart might burst.

“Hey,” he says softly.

“Hey,” you reply with a grin.

“We’re gross.”

“For once, I’ll agree with you.”

“Shower?”

“In a minute,” you say, slowly sitting up and tugging him up with you. You wrap your arms around his neck and scratch through his hair lightly with your fingernails. A shiver runs through him and you can already feel his cock beginning to twitch with interest again.

“Chan,” you kiss his forehead and then his lips, a light brush of lips that is in direct contrast to the neediness of earlier. “I really do mean it, you know. You are incredibly, undeniably, gorgeous as fuck.” Your eyes meet his and you continue. “You’re handsome, you’re built, and your heart shines through your eyes and your every movement. Everyone who knows you has been given a gift from the universe, and I’m the luckiest of all. And I’m going to live to my last moment showing you how much I mean that.”

His eyes glisten for a moment and you can see him trying to steady himself. “I love you,” is all he says, but there is so much emotion behind the words you find yourself joining him in trying not to cry.

“Always,” the word is followed immediately by another kiss, and then you’re sliding off his lap and running down the hallway with a giggle. “Coming?” you ask, looking back over your shoulder and shaking your hips. You can feel your ass move, but you can’t bring yourself to care when Chan launches himself over the back of the couch and chases after you as you run to the bathroom, incredibly aware that this shower is going to be at least twice as long as usual.

#stray kids fic #bang chan fic #bang chan x reader #stray kids #bang chan #fic #fanfic #possumswrite #pwp #i'm gonna fight christopher if he doesn't stop talking bad about himself i s2g

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dangeroussheepcherryblossom · 29 days

Text

𝐒𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐎𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐖𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰 ― 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞 ― Say it, he thinks, but it feels like something's caught in his throat, like he's trying to choke it down. I love you. Three words. Simple and straightforward - Price likes things that way. But the truth, of course, isn't easy. That's just the way things are. Notes: Hey, everyone! First time writing, so I'm really excited! Sorry for any spelling errors, English isn't my native language.I used Jill Valentine's nickname - supercop - to refer to the reader (female version). Kisses! John Price went to see her again. Even lying on the chair, with his eyes half-closed, Soap could see his shadow on the infirmary wall. He didn't say anything. Instead, he removed the tangled blanket from himself and folded it over the chair's narrow arm. He ran his fingers over his neck, feeling the knots forming at the back of his head. Then, he stood up and opened the blinds as he had done for the past six days, until the sunbeams infiltrated the room, bringing warmth to his body.

There was an annoying beeping sound. It meant her body was still stable. Soap hoped the tests would prove the same.

"You need to rest," Price said.

"I'm fine," Soap murmured when he saw him approach.

"That wasn't a question, Soap. You look like crap."

The younger man shook his head, unconvinced. He stared at the captain, insolent, challenging him to question him again. "What happened wasn't your fault," Price continued.

"Just keep telling yourself that," Soap stopped in front of the sleeping figure, turning his arm to examine the scratches and bruises accumulating on his skin.

"As a captain, I'd do anything to ensure the safety of my men. You're my team. It's my duty to protect you," Price said, his voice barely more than a whisper. "I think about that mission every day. I feel like I failed you all," Price continued, stumbling over his words. "That burden isn't yours. You did your job, protected your partner. Don't blame yourself for something that's out of your control."

The two men fell silent for a few minutes.

Now, if Price were being honest with himself and with Soap, he knew much had already been taken from him by that point; his men, his team, his friends. At some point, Price couldn't remember them as anything but dead soldiers, drowned in their own blood, a bullet mark on their chest. It troubled him because it seemed to hide the best of them.

You can't save everyone.

And this feeling of losing another person, seeing them turn into a memory, never terrified him as much as it did now. Price didn't want to lose her either.

It was Soap who broke the silence: "Do you feel the same?" he murmured, "Does it get better at some point?"

"No," the captain replied, "That's the burden for people like us. It never gets better."

Soap sighed, his eyes burning from all the suppressed hours of sleep. One second passed, then another. The man finally gave in to exhaustion. "I'm going," he said, "If she wakes up..."

"You'll be the first to know," the captain added.

The younger man nodded, satisfied with the response. He looked defeated, and that wasn't an understatement. It was as if he had taken a beating - which wouldn't be entirely wrong. Rest would do him good.

❛ They were at a bar.

The entire Task Force 141 gathered at a dusty table, with grease and cheap beer stains on the wood. "I doubt this glass has been washed in the last decade," Gaz laughed, raising the glass to his face. "To good memories of terrible places and even worse people," he toasted.

"And may this madness end someday," Soap continued, but none of them believed it as they downed their drinks. "I'm still not ready to die."

"If you keep talking so much during the mission..."

"Oh, screw off."

The fact was: they bonded over their similar experiences of being thrown into the desert to survive. To kill - and they had a taste for it; bitter and sweet at the same time. A terrible combination to have in those days and, above all, in that place.

But they knew they could count on each other.

"Don't be reckless."

(Don't die)

"Still standing?"

(You okay?)

And then, suddenly, there they all were - older, new scars on their skin - as they waited for you to wake up after the tragedy. "Come on, Supercop. I'm dying of boredom waiting for you to wake up," Simon said once, "Or just dying."

The captain supposes that's the nature of your relationship: you and Simon were opposite poles of the same coin and yet, a perfect synchrony in the field.

"Do you know why the horse was using the payphone?"

"If you keep this up, I'm going to stick this gun in my mouth and pull the trigger." ❜

Price smiled gently at the memory, leaning back in the chair. His blue eyes rested on your sleeping figure, and the sight made his heart race. It always did, from the first time you smiled at him, to the most recent. He knows why. Hell, of course, he knows why. It took him almost a year to realize what flushed cheeks and clammy hands meant: the lack of air and the intrinsic need to know you were okay.

Perhaps if Price were a decent man - a bit more like the 19-year-old boy who enlisted in the army with naive ideas about justice and life. In that version, he would ask you out, buy a flower, and take you to an expensive restaurant, like the ones he used to see in commercials when he was a kid. He would hold your hand and listen to you talk about whatever you were interested in at the moment (no matter how silly it might seem).

He wonders if you'd wear something green. Green suits you.

You'd get tipsy on wine, and Price would take a sip of whiskey and watch your eyes get a little droopier and a little redder than they were before dinner, and when you'd go home together, he'd resist every urge of his body to smooth that stray strand of hair that gets caught at the back of your head.

Price doesn't know if you want these things; he just presumes you do. He presumes you'd like to go out at night, wear something pretty, and feel someone's touch. And he presumes you want love - Price wants it too, for all he's never said out loud.

A minute passes.

Price lets his head fall back in the chair. (...)

You smiled at him. Beautiful, hopeful, and said, "Hey, captain."

Skin marked by the sun, gunpowder, and sweat. Full, reddened lips curved into a smile, but whether it was because of him or something MacTavish said, he couldn't say.

Price smiles too. 'That's it,' he thinks. 'I love this woman.'

Still, all he says is, "Hey, soldier."

(...)

Patience is a virtue.

And, like so many others, not everyone possesses it.

MacTavish was one of those people.

Perhaps part of it was due to his extroverted nature, 'Part of the Scottish charm,' he would say, and then you would roll your eyes in a way that Price could swear one day they would get stuck that way. So, it was no surprise that when the captain received the news that you had woken up, Soap was already in the medical wing - and the sound of your voices, jokes, and sarcastic remarks that he would like to find annoying, but the desire to suppress a smile often found its way somehow.

"Why does the food have to be so bad?, he hears you cry, "Nurse!" you say, "I'm dying from neglect here."

Gaz arrives shortly after, followed by Simon and his praises that could easily be mistaken for insults. Price knows that's the skull-masked man's way of showing he cares.

The team was reunited once again.

Price would like to freeze moments like this.

(...) "You're avoiding me," it wasn't a question.

Price should've expected this - sooner or later. You were smart. Too smart for your own good.

A second passes, the door closes behind with a soft thud. "Captain," you continue, pursing your lips, more indulgent than anything else. There she is, he thinks, my tough girl.

"Sergeant," he greets, sliding his calloused fingers over the cigar and placing it on the metal ashtray on the table full of memoranda and telexes, the nicotine still burning his lungs.

"You're avoiding me," you repeated when the captain's eyes met yours for the first time. "If this has anything to do with the last mission…"

Price sighed slowly.

"It was them or us. Women and children," he continued, his voice lowering as if it were coming from a tunnel. "They weren't part of the mission, but…"

"You wouldn't abandon them, I know," the captain interrupted. "I would have made the same choice, Sergeant."

"Wait, what?"

Price let his back hit the upholstery of the chair. He knew this moment would come - the breaking point. The line between calm and storm has always been too short for John Price anyway.

But this was entirely new territory. Dangerous territory.

"So why did you pull me out of the last mission?"

I'm worried about you.

"The doctor said you needed more rest."

I can't risk losing you again.

"Nonsense," you say, walking towards the captain's desk. "John, what's going on?"

Say it, he thinks, but it feels like something's caught in his throat, like he's trying to choke it down. I love you. Three words. Simple and straightforward - Price likes things that way. But the truth, of course, isn't easy. That's just the way things are.

"What's between us, John?"

"That's really…"

You don't let him finish. "At least have the guts to tell me what I did, or are you a coward?"

Coward. That's certainly a word no one has called him before. Not in the army. Not when he became a captain. Never in his life – never. Until today.

Price looks at you once again. His eyebrows are furrowed, his blue gaze fixed on yours until his eyes lower to your clavicle. He's wrapped in a thick layer of cream-colored bandages, which are wrapped below his armpit, above his shoulder, and around his chest.

He feels his breath catch in his throat and remembers your dead weight in his arms. He remembers your blood stiffening his skin, accumulating under his cuticles, buried beneath his nails. It took days to clean up. Days.

"You didn't do anything," he responds coldly. His expression is as stoic as ever, but his eyes are screaming at you. "And don't use that tone with me."

You scoff. "Whatever." The word is cold, and you shake your head, heading towards the door once again. "Enjoy your cigar and paperwork."

But even as his thoughts beg you to keep walking away from him, the captain's arm is still reaching out, his toned fingers gripping your wrist in a sticky grip. He pulls you back, quickly turning his head so he doesn't miss the sudden pink flush on top of your cheeks.

He shouldn't be allowed to touch you anymore, but he craves it. He longs for it; his unconscious mind is entrusted to you. And if you decide to break it in half, he supposes he'll have to fall apart.

Your eyes are masked by a transparent layer of moisture. Tears of anger, he deduces. Tears of anger because he's being cruel to you. He knows he's not being entirely rational. He wants to say the blame isn't yours - it's his. And if you never sought him out again, he wouldn't blame you for that either.

You're stuck in his head, and for all his life, he can't erase you from his thoughts; but he knows he let you in on your own. He was tired of being alone, and you offered him your hand, and he still hasn't let go. He wonders if that hurts you more. He should let go. He really should let go. But he doesn't.

And he doesn't care if you can protect yourself - he knows you can. All he wants is to get you out of this. He swore to himself that he would save you from this shitty world. That he would somehow free you from the shackles of this life because he can't stand to see you suffer because of it much longer.

"I'm sorry," he says. An apology. It's short and sweet - like "I love you" - but much easier to say.

You sigh, your expression softening under his sincere gaze. It's like you're stroking you, warming you to the bones.

"Walk with me?" he asks you.

His grip on your wrist remains as you walk alongside him, until he lets his hand fall back to his side, his fingers just brushing against yours in a weak attempt to feel the heat of your boiling body on his skin.

Price was the one who broke the silence.

"You scared the shit out of me back there," he admits, purposely slowing his pace.

"I'm fine," you reaffirm firmly. "And that must be the first time I hear you say you were scared."

The captain's eyes narrowed. Frustration tightened his voice a bit, but he found it incredibly attractive when he said, ''You never respond the way people expect you to respond.'' The wind blows angrily, making his hair fly. Price could feel the shivers that her scent caused him. "And there are few things that scare me."

Losing you is, he thinks.

His heart beats melodiously, pumping blood and sending some to his cheeks.

"Maybe you're sick. Let's examine you before it completely devours your brain."

He laughs lightly, and she thinks how good it is when he does that. Price's face is always so stern, so cold when they're around other people. It's like it's a secret only she knows.

Price can't remember exactly the next hour - what he might have said, the sounds around him. None of it seemed important to him at that moment. But he remembers her smile and the way her eyes close when she does. The rosy hue on her cheeks because of the cold weather.

Say it. Just say it to her.

His hands touched the doorknob of his office door.

"Sergeant."

Her eyes sought the captain's blue eyes over her shoulder. "Yes, captain?"

"It's good to have you back," he says with that careful, somber voice a second later.

You smile at him once again. "Thank you, captain."

Say it. Tell her.

"You…," he tries again. The words died before they could pass through his lips.

"Yes?"

"You should smile more often."

He doesn't miss how her cheeks became even rosier. His heart skips a beat when she asks, "Why?"

"I love the way you smile," he says simply.

Her hands slid away from the doorknob.

She kisses him first.

Price has a moment outside of his body, as if he couldn't believe this was really happening. Her kiss is gentle, her hands hesitant against his chest, and then somehow they're against the wall of his office.

She places her hands on each side of his face, and the room disappears. He's never been so lost in a kiss before. Then he grabbed the back of her thigh, pulling her up and slamming her against the door again. Their hearts were pounding in their chests, as if the air was being knocked out of them. "Damn," he whispered against my lips. "I want you."

"You're not the only one." He snapped, catching her bottom lip between his teeth, the heat of his mouth sending shivers down your spine. "You get everything you want You need me," he argued, kissing her once more.

#modern warfare imagine #john price x reader #cod mw2 x reader #cod x reader #mw2 x reader #simon riley x reader #soap x reader #john mactavish x reader #call of duty imagine #captain price x reader

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pillow-anime-talk · 8 months

Note

Hello! May i request 11 with Dazai and Chuuya (she/her pronouns please)

# tags: scenario; friendship; a bit of fluff; but also kind of drama and angst; love triangle; one sided love; friendzoned; study!au; reader has no idea; sfw

includes: female reader ft. osamu dazai & chuuya nakahara {bsd}

author’s note: nooo :( poor chuuya and dazai :(((

11. “I– I like both of you…”

Chuuya – even though he didn’t have to – picked you up from your university every day, feeling obliged to make sure you returned safely to your small, two-room flat near the city center. You were studying and in your third year in your chosen field; you were also in the process of writing a thesis that would be the culmination of your whole work. Your close friend was really caring, although you tried to explain to him that you didn’t need a bodyguard at all.

But then the thought popped into your head that Chuuya was doing this on purpose to invite himself to your apartment for dinner, and while it wasn’t entirely true in the young man’s eyes, that was how you tried to explain it, giggling to yourself.

Very often, halfway or at the end, right next to the entrance to your tenement house, Osamu was waiting for you, smiling from ear to ear – your second dear friend and at the same time your former-but-regular-customer who often left you tips when you were working in a cafe as a cashier. Even though his tips were never huge, talking to him and his friendly expression always brightened your mood, even on the gloomiest and rainiest of days.

You met a red-haired man with a hat on his head one night when you were returning from a meeting with your friends from university; you drank one beer with raspberry juice and walked home late at night – on the way to the tenement house, you accidentally bumped into an older and incredibly aggressive man who immediately raised his voice at you, insulting you and ridiculing your way of being. Paralyzed, you didn’t know what to do: apologize, run away, answer rudely that he wasn’t looking ahead...? But instead, you slowly stepped back, and as he tried to grab your wrist, he was immediately pushed back, and your body was covered by the shadow of a young boy with long, fox-like hair. Your rescuer introduced himself to you by his full name and then offered to walk you home. You hesitantly agreed to this, and perhaps this moment caused Chuuya to this day to be very worried about you and your night returns – first from work during the summer, and then from university.

“... Dazai.” Your companion muttered, and the taller man just chuckled.

“Hello, Y/N.” As befits a gentleman, your other male friend took your hand in his much warmer one and then placed a short, yet tender kiss on your skin. You greeted the twenty-two-year-old, inviting him over for tea. It was just the perfect time to sit at the table, eat some sweets and drink something warm, especially since the weather outside was looking more and more like real autumn.

While climbing the stairs and opening the bright door to your place, the two men behind your back kept teasing each other with glances and gestures.

Neither Osamu, whom you charmed during your first meeting in the cafe when you painted a tiny daisy on his coffee, nor Chuuya, who you thanked for saving – probably – your life and gave him a charming paper bag full of handmade and decorated cookies, didn’t like sharing you with each other.

They both thought that your relation was much stronger and more honest than the other one – after all with Chuuya you talked about studies, cooking, wine and music. With him that you occasionally went out for a drink or to the club, had fun on the dance floor and then took a taxi back to your or his apartment, laughing a lot. However, the brown-haired detective had a different opinion. Maybe because with Osamu you had amazing adventures when he took you to the shooting range and when he helped you decorate your smol nest, while having an incredible understanding of colors and types of wood?

With one you felt incredibly safe, while the other was your cure for every, even the smallest, mental ailment. You had known each other for over two years and at that moment you really couldn’t imagine your life without this crazy boy who got drunk very quickly, or without this idiot who constantly said something about suicide and his other friends.

Seeing them with ‘their’ cups in their hands and hearing their compliments on the cupcakes you baked the day before made you feel really happy. So you quickly got up from the table and excused yourself for a moment, going to the second, very tiny room, which only contained your bed and a tiny nightstand with a lamp.

In the drawer there were two tiny packages. You grabbed them in your hands and returned to the two men who were looking at each other with hostility in their eyes.

“Umm…” You hesitantly walked towards them, holding out both of your hands. The blue bundle went to the taller man, and the green one to the slightly shorter one. “You know perfectly well how much you mean to me.” You started more confidently, trying to smile softly. “I– I like both of you…” You breathed a sigh of relief as you said the words, then blinked your eyes, trying not to get emotional. “You are equally valuable to me, although I have a slightly different relation with each of you and we support each other in completely different ways. It’s just a little thing in gratitude for everything you have done and are doing for me. Both of you. As my best friends.”

In a way, both Osamu and Chuuya were extremely happy knowing that they were so damn important to you, and the key chains in the little boxes only made them more confident of what an amazing girl, friend, soulmate you were to them. One showed an adorable, gray octopus with a huge smile and round eyes, while the other showed a chick with yellow plumage and a laughing expression. This gift really gave them a lot of joy.

On the other hand, calling them ‘friends’ and putting them on equal terms was very insulting to them. Because they were both in love with you, they couldn’t stand the thought that you would never look at them as anything other than colleagues, acquaintances or buddies. Chuuya wanted to drink wine with you on your anniversaries and other important dates, while Dazai wanted to take your hand and steal a kiss on your lips, not on the skin of your fingers.

Nevertheless, they thanked you for the gifts, and you accepted their thanks with a smile, repeating once again that they were really important to you and you were really happy that your fates were connected.

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prettyboypistol · 2 years

Note

Crush on a new merc with male/masc reader please?

–🤠

Absolutely!

Scout

He never really looked twice at the new guy in a personal way out of battle, if he was honest.

"Oh, okay. New guy. Cool." and maybe a few jokes and teasing pranks as a welcome.

Then you slammed an enemy Engineer's head in.

Scout short-circuits as the blood splatters over his face. You turn your head and give him a look. A silent "you ok?" and he's long gone.

He can't help but stay in your vicinity and watch you out of the corner of his eye(resulting in a few respawns).

Scout sees you get killed by an enemy and now they're Target #1.

"Hey! Watch this!" *gets oneshot* energy

Off the battlefield from then on, Scout is very eager to be your friend. Everyone wants a badass friend! And yes it is normal to want to kiss your badass friends

Jeremy is very eager, like a new puppy. With how loud he is, you are more than aware that he is a husky. The way he confesses is sort of strange-but totally Scout. After you save him from an enemy Spy, he impulsively kisses you as a 'thanks'. You shout as you continue on "We're talking about this later!", to which Scout replies "Dinner at 8?"

Medic

He's not unaware that the new addition to the team is attractive, but he still offers you the team check-up(albeit for more personal reasons).

If you agree, he is very liberal with his praise about your physicality and health. - "Such a healthy body! I'm happy we have a man like you on our side!", "You're blood is very healthy looking, could I bother you with a few samples?"

On the battlefield, he is the definition of a pocket Medic

You take a single hit, you get healed.

There's no need to flirt with him, he's got that covered-believe me.

If you give him an iota of affection, he runs with it. He assumes that you return his affections and asks you out immediately.

He'll be so gentlemanly about everything, maybe even cook you dinner himself!

Medic is very openly into you. He glares at those who make fun of him for it or those who jokingly hit on you to piss him off. Even if you don't return the love, you have a good companion in Medic! Oh, and you get bird privledges regardless. He loves watching you coo at Archemedes.

Engineer

Whoa

WHOA

Engineer didn't mean to accidentally drop what he was holding, but holy fuck. He quickly cleans up his mess and apologizes.

He gives you a genuine southern welcome to the team, showing you around. He even helps you move into your room and offers to help with the furniture!

Dell takes you out as a "welcome drink" and pays your tab, hoping that he doesn't come off as overbearing.

In battle, he sticks by your side for the first few rounds to make sure you have the hang of it- but when you save him from an enemy Heavy, he cheers you on from the side as he focuses on his own duties more.

OH FUCK OH NO HES EVEN HOTTER NOW

As a sucker of the friends to lovers trope, he befriends the daylights out of you, inviting you into his workshop, making you dinners, checking up on you after battles, etc

Engi is too scared to confess to you, but everyone can see how smitten he is for you. Finally, you take your thinly-veiled excuse to kiss him at Christmas thanks to a self-bought mistletoe and he nearly passes out.

Spy

Spy is the smoothest motherfucker around

I hope you like being called "Mon petit roi" and "Mon fleur" constantly.

gay gay homosexual gay

Spy once turned into you out of battle, and you praised his disguise in awe

blu sh y spyyyy

After that, he "forgot" that he invited you to his room, and you "caught" him watching gay porn, just in case you didn't get the hint that he was into men

You like expensive suits and watches? What about an autograph from that actor you like? Merchandise from your biggest interest? It's already in your room.

Spy stays with you in battle, stalking in the shadows as he protects you from any harm.

It surprises you that Spy didn't ask you out on the first day, but he does eventually. You accept quickly, much to his delight. He takes you to the fanciest restaurant in the world. Screw the battle, dates come first.

Soldier

my brother in christ you are screwed.

Soldier doesn't know how to do emotions.

Heartburn??? But like??? Situational???

Why the fuck does he want to scream when he sees you smile that's weird as fuck.

Yes he knows what privates get up to in the bedrooms, but that's for those immature horny boys who aren't even men yet!

oh but with they way your muscles flex he feels young again.

Soldier offers (demands?) you to go on his morning exercises.

He already respected you, but once he saw you absolutely obliterate a 3v1, he can't help but let his heart skip a beat. You beating the shit out of people was undeniably hot.

Jane actually tries to romance you. He asks Engi about romance, american-to-american. Flowers? You get a handful of dandelions. Dinner? Uh- it was edible?(The stomach ache you had after was evidence otherwise) You accept his affection, tipping his helmet to kiss his cheek. He feels like a pipebomb. fweeeeeeeee-BOOM! Sniper

Mundy didn't really care about you when you first were introduced to the team. Honestly? He just said a quick 'hi' and ignored you.

As time went on, he saw how you interacted with everyone.

The way you whisper jokes that make Scout burst out laughing during meetings.

The way you encourage Pyro genuinely and indulge in their interests.

The way you can hold your own against Demoman at a bar.

The way you are patient and intelligent with Heavy.

Sniper can't help but feel a little envious of everyone's new beloved teammate. Yeah, you're fucking aces on the battlefield-always full of witty banter as you eviscerate the competition- but that doesn't mean you always have to be such a charismatic asshole all the time.

He doesn't know why he snaps at the crew when they tease you about being queer. Really! He wasn't even aware anything happened until he slammed the door to his camper shut.

It hits Sniper that he's not jealous of your looks and standing, no, he's jealous that he isn't that close to you as well. He pulls you aside and apologizes for how he's been acting around you. You tell him it's no big deal, but thank him for standing up for you. He blushed, you laughed. You asked him out for coffee, he accepts with a fluttering feeling in his chest.

Demoman

"Hey there! I'm Tavish! Let's go out for a drink to help you settle in!"

husky energy

Tavish loves cheering you on during battle, together you two are an unstoppable duo. The new HeavyMedic.

You two turn it into a game. Every elimination of an enemy You/Demoman is a drink bought by the other.

The slowburn friends-to-lovers route is his tactic. Hell, once you two become closer than anything, he's inviting you over to his house for dinner, introducing you to his mother as "My best mate".

His momma knows immediately and starts with the jokes that "oh i knew you'd settle down eventually!" "Moooom!"

As you become apart of his family, he starts becoming insecure about his way of-well, existing, really. The blackout drinking, the loudness, everything was now an insecurity.

You assure him that you like him for him, crazy and all.

Tavish wouldn't really mean to confess, it just sort of spits itself out one night as he's venting. You pause. He freezes. He starts pleading for you to leave as he is frantically apologizing. You have to shout at him for him to finally listen to you. You confess that you've been into him since the drinking battlegame. He feels stupid, you feel stupid, and you two spend the night in his room somehow kissing each other even more stupid.

Heavy

As an ex-aspiring poet, you and Misha immediately bond over literature, despite the language barrier.

Heavy loves acting as your wall in battle, as long as you promise to scream for Medic every once in a while.

That's not to say that he thinks you're fragile, he just wants to protect his friend.

You strike up a conversation about international literature and express an interest in Russian, especially on how it compares to the rest of the world in terms of theme predominance throughout the ages.

Mikhail offers to teach you some Russian/explain Russian literature, to which you happily accept.

Nobody can really tease you, but they do tease Heavy about his new "Boyfriend"

"Yes. He is boy friend. Friend that is boy." "Haha ur gay" "Yes he make Heavy happy."

So you two?? kinda are dating?? I mean, if you weren't, why didn't you denounce the title of "heavy's boyfriend"?

It's only a matter of time for you and Misha settle into a more romantic dynamic. You two start cuddling while reading. Sleeping over from long nights of having discussions of mutual interest. Him teaching you Russian, you teaching him English. It's only a matter of time until you start kissing.

Pyro

V V Excited that there's a new merc joining.

They like to watch you interact with the base, despite the outside idea of "oh shit they're stalking me", they just??? Watch???

In battle they LOVE the colors your gun makes! Especially the sparkles!

Man, as soon as you two actually interact in or out of battle, you two reach an understanding of "oh, you're not a stalker, you're just a little funky."

Pyro shows you all of their dolls and movie collection, and you get hit with so much nostalgia

"Hey! I used to watch this all the time when I was a little kid!"

"mmph!"

"Oh shit! Is that a limited edition minifig!?"

You two actually can nerd out together, despite the language barrier on your end.

Engi pulls you aside one day and kinda hints that you two are a cute couple, much to your confusion.

"Hey Py, Engi said that you called me your boyfriend-uh, what's that about?"

Eventually that misunderstanding gets sorted out, but the more you think about it, the more you realize that Pyro actually would be a great partner. You ask, they excitedly confess. Your anniversaries are full of movie nights and nerding out, just like how you two first bonded.

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