#╰ (✪∀<) ~ *:･ﾟ✧ And these voices in my soul know that I’m not in control. ❈ ORPHANAGE.

[voxslays]

MON CHÉRI

Alastor x Overlord Wife!Reader (from this request) In which, reader is bored at an overlord meeting and decides to tease her husband instead of paying attention.

Overlord meetings—a large meeting usually organized by Carmine (and sometimes Zestial) that brought the overlords of pride together to discuss their souls and the exterminations. And man did you hate them. Being overlords, both you and your husband Alastor had to attend the mandatory meetings yearly, so naturally when you discovered that there was another one taking place today, you couldn’t help but mentally groan.

Alastor, ever the dutiful husband, had informed you of the upcoming Overlord meeting earlier that morning. He had mentioned it with a hint of sarcastic sigh underneath his eternal smile, knowing full well how much you despised those gatherings. He seemed almost happy about your suffering.

“These meetings are the same every year.” You groan, putting your face in the palm of your hands. “Can’t we just miss one?” Alastor chuckles softly, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he wraps a clawed hand around your waist, pulling you close. “I’m afraid not, dearest. Besides, it’s not all terrible, my dear.” You roll your eyes and let out a small ‘hmph.’ as you cross your arms angrily. How were they not that bad? They were usually three to four hours of listening to Carmilla rant about how many souls you all collectively owned and the dangers of the exterminations. Things you already knew!

And all Alastor would do was sit there and watch you suffer…but not this time. You were already plotting your revenge as you put on your finest accessories and sunday best. If he was going to force you to sit through the horribly boring meeting—then you might as well force him to sit through your relentless teasing, right?

Alastor leans against the doorframe, arms crossed and amused smirk playing on his lips as he fixes his black bowtie. "Planning on outshining everyone at the meeting, are we, my doe?" You smirk. “I guess you could say that.” You say in a sing-songy tone. Alastor chuckles, his gaze never leaving yours as he straightens his tie and approaches you. He reaches out and gently turns your chin towards him, before offering his arm. "Shall we get going, my dear?" You gently wrap your arm around his, pushing your hair behind your ear. “We shall.”

And thats how you got here, sitting in your chair at the meeting, bored to death. You’re not the only one either. The Vees are all on their phones, Rosie is eating a meat sandwich with meat that looks suspiciously like a human hand, and Zestial is simply staring into space—Yet, Carmilla keeps going. Your husband has his usual smile stuck to his face—with a hint of a snide smirk, one that almost reminds you of the grinch. A devilish smirk that only made you want to enact your schemes sooner. You wanted to ruin him.

You slowly place your hand on an unsuspecting Alastor’s thigh, lightly rubbing it. Alastor keeps his eyes on Carmilla, but you can feel him lean into your touch slightly, as his eyes gently flicker to yours for what seems like less than a second. You can feel how the overlord tries to keep his composure, but his leg muscles tense under your touch. A slight smirk plays at his lips as he leans forward slightly to continue listening to Carmilla's monotone voice.

You slowly drag your hands further up his thigh, closer to his clothed cock. Alastor visibly tenses this time, his breaths becoming more and more shallow—and almost desperate? Alastor throat quietly, maintaining his usual smiling demeanor as his hands grip the armrests of the crimson office chair tighter. "Darling…" The radio demon whispers, his voice carrying a warning undertone. "We're…" He swallows hard. "In a meeting." His voice comes out raspier than intended under all the radio-static as he smacks your hand away.

You roll your eyes softly, continuing to watch Carmilla as your hands continue their upwards assault, finally arriving at his clothed erection. You gently rub as the demon next to you grips his cane in one hand, and the arm rest in another—his grasp is so tight his knuckles turn white. Alastor's face flushes a light shade of red, his breathing becoming more and more ragged with each passing second. He bites his lip hard to stifle a grunt—his eyes flickering to you with a mix of desire and a clear 'stop this' message. "Fuck.."

A bead of sweat slowly trickles down from his forehead, as Carmilla stops her speech about the souls you and the others may lose during the next extermination, and turns to Alastor, a small scowl on her face. “Is something wrong, Alastor?” She asks in a low tone, her voice just as raspy as usual. Alastor quickly composes himself, his face returning to its usual calm smiling expression as he meets Carmilla's gaze. "Nothing at all, Carmilla. Just a slight…discomfort." He says, his voice strained as he tries to hide the effect your subtle touches have on him.

Carmilla gives a small hum of acknowledgement in response. “Are you sure you’re fine, darling?” You ask, feigning a sweet tone of sympathy. Being the doting wife you are, how could to bare to see your darling husband suffer in the silence of a meeting? If only they knew. Alastor nods curtly, his eyes darting back to Carmine for a split second before he turns his attention back to you.

"I'm fine, ma chérie. Truly." He says, his voice a little sharper than intended as he tries to maintain his composure. “All right then.” You say, as sweet as pie but mentally smirking. Carmilla looks between you two, her gaze lingering on Alastor for a moment before she nods and continues speaking about the plans for the upcoming year. "As I was saying, we expect a significant increase in soul activity during the new year, so we'll need to adjust our patrols accordingly…” Carmilla drifts off.

For the remainder of the meeting, you tease Alastor with your fingers. At one point, you even give him a handjob. The demon had to put his hand over his mouth to silence his grunts of pleasure. But finally, after three and a half hours of a nonstop lecture from Carmilla, you were free to leave. The other overlords started filing out of the room—the Vees practically running—and you followed, your husband close behind.

Once outside, Alastor practically drags you to the nearest empty room—using his shadows to fight against your resistance—closing the door behind you. He spins you around to face the wall, his hands gripping your hips tightly as he presses his clothed erection against your core. "That was very naughty, darling. Teasing me under the table?." The overlord lets out a small chuckle, his wide smile never leaving his face. “I don’t know what you mean.” You feign innocence.

“Dressed like this?” Alastor gently rips your shirt off your body. "Liar." He hisses, his fingers digging into your hips possessively. He can still feel the phantom sensation of your fingers under the table, slowly driving him mad during Carmilla's lecture. "You think you can get away with torturing me like that, my precious doe?" You let out a small gasp. “Alastor-”

"Answer the question." He growls through his smile, his breath hot against your neck as he leans against your back, caging you in with his arms. "Was it on purpose?” The red demons eyes glare into yours, as the surrounding radio static grows louder. “Your outfit, the subtle leg movements, the tiny touches on my thigh under the table?" Your breathing grows shallow in anticipation. “Yes.” You breathe out. His breath catches in his throat at your admission, the red-hot need in his eyes growing more intense. "And why, may I ask, would you do something so…" His voice drops to a husky whisper. "So…" He grinds his hips against yours. "…provocative?"

“I don’t know.” You gasp. A deep chuckle escapes Alastor's lips, tinged with both amusement and arousal. "You don't know?" He whispers, his lips brushing against your ear. "Or perhaps you simply enjoy the thrill of teasing your husband?" You tense up, mentally deciding staying silent was the best course of action as you let out a small wanton moan. Alastor’s large gloved hands slowly slide up your sides, his touch gentle yet firm. “I will make sure you get back your teasing tenfold, dearest.” He mockingly coos, as he nips at your neck. “Hold on tight, ma chérie d'amour.” You were in for a long night—that’s for sure.

[potchi-fics]

note: this is all i got cus im really busy this week. ill probably write them having sex soon, just not right now. listened to do i wanna know by hozier while writing this

      the warlord, ambessa medarda, has never encountered someone bold enough to stand their ground against her.

til she met you. an empress of a nation, never afraid to stand up for your people. so when you held your chin up high, chest out, gaze never wavering when you spoke to her, it sparked interest within her soul.

“pride like yours is a death sentence, general. i cannot give you what you want as it endangers my people.” not once did your voice falter, you bring your hand to gesture to your guards, “leave us. escort the general’s as well.”

a wolfish grin takes over her features, “is that your way of saying that you want me all to yourself, your majesty?” her eyes never left yours even when her men are gone, “i must say, i have some thoughts about professional entanglements.”

“arrogance, pride, egotism. thread lightly, general.” you cross your legs on where you sit, the back of your hand supporting your chin—your throne, looking down at her, “i will simply propose a contract. one that would…benefit both our nations.”

you see her raise an eyebrow, the scar above just barely stretching. “and what is that exactly?”

“resources. i know your kind, general. you desire to have power, to control, to take over, and i will not simply let that happen. i will lay down hell on you if you even dare to think of doing that to my land.” eyes devoid of warmth or life, you threaten the warlord standing before you, taking notice of her tensing shoulders, “i know that you are capable of doing that, however, IF we do come to that, i’m afraid the effects of the aftermath will last for more than a lifetime to our nations.”

ambessa’s glare sharpens, your words striking a nerve, “it is not wise to threaten me, your majesty.”

“i am not.”

“what do you call that?”

“the truth.”

      you are bold, confident, daring; it sends shivers up her spine. you are staring daggers at her from where you sit, unmoving, assessing her from head to toe. she should be insulted, but she’s not.

oh, she will have you. 

“i am in agreement with what you have proposed, your majesty.” she bows her head, refusing to kneel to you. 

      you swear on your life that you will have her on her knees for you. 

you rise to your feet, descending down the stairs to stand in front of her, she never took her eyes off of you. ambessa leans down as you signal for her to do so. gently, you take her face in your hands, turning her head to the side so that you can press your cheek against her.

her towering figure presence easily overshadows your entire frame. but you are not intimated—matter of fact, it entices you. 

your whisper caresses her ear like the wind, “wonderful. consider this a treaty of peace, general.”

      the faintest sensation of her jaw clenching against your cheek reaches you. you are playing a dangerous game; dousing a fire with fuel never ends well.

she slowly wraps an arm around your waist, her fingers lightly grazing against your back.

“careful now, lamb.”

[st4rbwrry]

𝓗𝓐𝓤𝓝𝓣𝓔𝓓.   charlie mayhew.

ᰔᩚ warnings . . . 3.0k, fem!reader, lowercase intended, sacrilegious acts/blasphemy, rough sex, unprotected sex, ‘father’ kink, fingering, teasing, praise, oral fixation, infatuation, minors aren’t allowed! reblogs + comments are appreciated. ♡

꒰ 𝑚𝑜𝑐ℎ𝑎’𝑠 𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒 ! ꒱ . . . dunno if nicholas is still canceled or not but idc, he’s still hot n i’m feeding my lust w his character from grotesquerie. here's an edit, oop another for visuals. <3

“forgive me father . . for i have sinned.”

father mayhew found himself drawn to your presence beyond the usual pastoral concern. your gentle demeanor, soft-spoken words, and captivating features. from your luscious curls to your plump, inviting lips stirred something deep within him. something sinful. as the weeks passed, his fascination grew. he looked forward to your weekly visits, anticipating the chance to hear your voice, to offer guidance while secretly drinking in the sight of you. he found himself lost in thought about you during sermons, imagining the curves of your body beneath your modest attire, or the perverted delicacy of your moans. he realized his attraction had evolved from mere curiosity to a full-blown obsession. vivid images of you haunted his mind. he replayed the cadence of your voice, the way your hands clasped together in supplication, and the tantalizing glimpse of cleavage when you bent to recite your prayers.

father mayhew had succumbed to his darkest impulses.

driven by a hunger he'd never known, he began to concoct scenarios in which he could be alone with you, away from prying eyes. late nights found him poring over scripture, searching for justification for his forbidden desires. his once pure intentions as a priest had given way to a dark, all-consuming lust.

father mayhew stood before you in his full priestly regalia, the crisp white collar stark against the black fabric of his cassock. the garment fell to just above his ankles, the hem swaying gently as he moved. a wide, white stole draped across his chest, the vibrant red embroidery glinting in the candlelight. his hair is always neatly combed back, revealing the strong contours of his face. dark eyes gazed at you intently, a look of stern authority tempered by the lingering heat of desire. he held a heavy, leather-bound bible in his right hand, the pages well-worn from years of use.

“confess your sins.”

inhaling sharply, you fiddle with the hem of your dress before speaking. anxiously gnawing at the plush of your bottom lip. this felt embarrassing, unsure of how to start, but aware that if you didn’t it, would continue to eat at your soul. if it wasn’t put into the air now, you’ll never let it out.

“i’m not exactly sure how to say it.”

“be as honest with me as you can.”’

gently, you inhale a rigid breath. “lately i’ve been having . . what you call erotic dreams of someone i’m close to. someone whom i deeply admire and respect. i even find myself tending to those urges almost daily since i’ve known him."

his eyes widen briefly at your admission before regaining composure, his voice low and measured. he must ignore the faint burn of jealousy that scorns in his chest. the recent events of infatuation for you turning possessive.

“i appreciate your honesty. it takes tremendous strength to bear one's soul in this way. please know that you are not alone and there is no shame in struggling with temptation.”

“i don’t feel like myself lately. i’ve never felt so consumed by a person. my thoughts are overbearing, it’s nearly driving me off edge. i don’t believe this is of normalcy.”

he nods. “i too have grappled with impure thoughts and desires. as priests, we are human beings first and foremost . . imperfect vessels striving to serve god and his flock. never doubt that your feelings aren’t valid and worthy of compassion.”

you swallow, heart thrumming against your ribcage, slightly turning your body to face the man whose figure you faintly see behind the barricaded gate. you swear you see him tense, eyes drifting to yours before clearing his throat and squeezing at the bible in hand, bowing his head with eyes shut, trying to block off your sweet scent enveloping the small confinement.

“do you wish to speak more?” he asks, voice raspier.

“i-i . . have a more dire truth.”

“which is?”

“those impure thoughts, taunting me day and night. . are of you, father charlie.”

in a normal setting, he’d react with amusement. though this wasn’t the place to express and endure those primal thoughts, he had to remain diligent. the heat emerges within his body in waves, tonguing his cheek hard before fixing his posture and deciding to respond.

“i would be remiss in my duty as both your priest and confidant if i did not offer solace. being said, perhaps we can meet privately. tomorrow night . . so we won’t be disrupted.”

your pulse quickens at the thought of meeting him alone, intimately, without a prying eye to judge. you don’t question how quickly he is to come to that decision, a part of you knowing that he felt the exact same. that only enticed you.

“yes, father. of course."

and on that saturday night, you find yourself making your way to his modest quarters above the rectory, the nervousness coats your entire body, thoughts racing on what could happen tonight. one sticking out in obvious detail. the snow white of your sundress imprinted with tiny flowers is anxiously toyed with at the ends by your french manicured nails. your hair is pulled back from your angelic face, held up by a claw clip. the hallway towards his private bedroom seemed excruciating long, wind from the open windows blowing in warmth, flowing with the white curtains eerily.

knocking on the wooden door, the last thing you expected to see when you arrived was father mayhew greatly exposed, his hair slightly damped, combed back per usual, coils of curls sticking up on the nape of his neck. beauty marks littered along his torso in constellations. he’s fixated, slanted eyes glaring down at you intensely with longing. he hums, scanning you from head to toe. a white towel is the only fabric piece on his body, covering his lower half, vein-covered arm stretching the door further, greeting you with a smile that borders on sinister.

“꒰♡꒱,” he ushers you inside, the scent of his cologne making you dizzy.

a gasp releases softly as you enter, continuing to take in the sight of father mayhew’s toned physique, chiseled features illuminated by the moonlight filtering through the vintage window. you feel a rush of heat coursing through your veins, body responding instinctively to his raw, unbridled desire.

“father . . .” you whisper, voice trembling slightly as you step closer, drawn to the aura of masculinity emanating from him. your eyes roam over his exposed skin, taking in the sight of his defined muscles and the trail of dark hair leading down from his navel. the itch to reach out and trace a finger along the edge of his towel strikes you hard, needing to remain somewhat composed.

the silence is deafening, the creak of the door shutting and the broadness of his body hovering over you makes your clit pulse hard. words weren’t necessary to exchange, both of your eyes read what you equally wanted, and needed. he stands before you, placing a hand on the wall behind you, his other reaching out to gently cup your cheek, thumb stroking your soft skin, eyes locked onto yours searching for any sign of hesitation or regret.

“father,” your eyes shyly avoid his stern gaze, the imprint of his dick hard behind it’s towel, close to touching your stomach. “is this okay? i mean . . this is a sin. for the two of us.”

his breath mingles with yours, expression turning solemn as he begins to speak. “what we do remains within these walls. we are all embodiments of a sin. we will give grace, and we will be forgiven.”

savoring the warmth of his touch, you can see the fire burning in his eyes, mirroring your own desire. ample curves mold to his firm contours, his hands taking yours to raise them above your head, pining you still amongst the wall. his breath on your neck makes your skin prickle with heat, squeezing your thighs together when his lips hover by your earlobe.

“lust is a temptation we must all face. it is a primal urge, a craving for physical connection and pleasure that can lead us astray if not kept in check,” he rasps, mouth falling open to kiss and slide his thick tongue against your collarbone, tasting you with a greedy moan.

the act makes you whimper, fingertips reaching for his towel, deliberately tugging to let it fall to the floor and pool at his feet. a low groan escapes his throat, dick hard and slapping on his thick thigh. his mouth trails along the other side of your neck, pushing his hips forward as you moan into his ear, trailing your fingers up to the dark brown tresses of his hair to fist.

“lust is not inherently evil. in its purest form, it is a natural part of the human experience, a drive that propels us toward union and creation,” father mayhew finally captures your lips in a heated kiss, tongue delving into your mouth with a hunger bordering on feral, your throat evoking a deep moan, catching up with his pace.

he breaks the kiss to your displeasure, panting harshly, his eyes glazed with lust. father mayhew keeps your body up against the wall, removing his hands from your wrists, not before sternly saying, “keep them there.”

that voice again, so deep and salacious it goes straight to your clit. the dampness of your arousal seeps through your panties now, physically announcing your desperate need for him. within seconds, he’s crouching below you, pink lips peppering kisses along your navel after lifting your dress up, hot fingers indenting into the flesh of your hips he slicks his tongue on. you can’t help but continue whimpering, shifting your waist as a show of urgency.

“i wonder," he trails off, slender fingers gently sliding off your thong, a string of slick coming along with it. you hastily step out of them, watching him throw your right leg over his shoulder, mouth so close to your pussy. “if the key is to recognize when our desires become excessive when they begin to consume us rather than serve as a healthy expression of our needs.”

“i don't care anymore, father,” you breathe, his lips hovering your mound. “i crave you, i need you. we can repent for our sins later.“

the muscles in his jaw clench, lashes angelically kissing his cheekbones. he wetly gives an open-mouthed kiss to the curve between your hip and thigh, staring at you. “so fuck it.”

“fuck it,” you nod, chest heaving, your pent-up arousal unbelievable.

“i want to lose myself in you, consequences be damned.”

with his jaw slacking, his mouth encapsulates your clit, rough tongue following the lead. a thankful shudder emits from you, keeping your hands molded to the wall like he told you. his eyes never leave your face, the wet interaction sounding the room as he sucks and pulls on your engorged clit with his lips. separating your legs further so he can taste everything that leaks from you.

“mhm, fuck. that's what i needed,” he growls into your pussy, chin getting wet and head moving to slick his face up and down, swallowing and moaning. he begins to delve his tongue into your opening where it only gets wetter, fucking into you with his nose to your clit and your inner thighs trembling.

you can’t take not touching him, going to fist his hair with your eyes scrolling to the back of your head, lips quivering from the ache of finally being given the pleasure you dreamt of.

“put your fingers in me, baby,” you whine, gripping at the nape of his neck to gently pull him back, needing it now.

“let me handle you. don’t speak.”

whining from the harsh hit he gives your outer thigh, you nod your head to his need, gathering more of his hair to tug while he gives your pussy one more big kiss and sucking at his own fingers quickly after. his salvia trickles down to his knuckles as he wets his fingers, sinking his pointer and middle simultaneously into your awaiting pussy.

“fuck,” he curses immediately after, the clench and greedy pull your pussy does around them only makes him spank you again. they’re so thick inside of you, squelching around them along with grinding down pleadingly, and he thinks you look angelic.

“my sweet, sinful girl," father mayhew’s lips continue to curl up wickedly, dropping your leg and standing back to his full height, missing your face in his.

the pads of his fingers roll over your clit, spread open completely for him, his head slightly cocked to watch you, faces inches apart. he studies the way your mouth falters open as he gathers your cum around his fingers after dragging two of them between your folds, slowly sinking them back inside, testing the waters. your toes curl instantly, bucking your hips into his hand as his thumb presses your puffy clit and you finally breathe out a loud moan. he takes his time savoring the way your walls clamp around him, begging without words to pull him deeper.

“there you go," he gasps with you as he fucks into you faster, knuckles deep, palm slick and slapping against your clit. you shudder under his control, gut twisting when he kisses you, tongues swirling together, eyelids droopy as you suck each other's lips, biting him to taste a hint of blood.

“i need to be inside of you,” he heaves, having enough of the foreplay. he’s been thinking about this for far too long. it was painful enough having to restrain himself. “fuck, you’re pretty.”

it ignites something nasty inside of you when father mayhew tucks your body beneath him to align his throbbing dick dripping with delicious precum to your pussy, stuffing and stretching you within the blink of an eye. he cooed after hearing you squeal and whimper, leveling his body to lock his forearms underneath the backs of your knees, hovering you above him and backing away from the wall. he easily balances both of your weights, your arms holding onto the back of his neck with your back arching and stomach pressing hotly to his scorching skin.

“that’s it, take it all,” he grunts, fingers sprawled across your hips and ass to push you down so his dick is engulfed into you. “fuck, you feel real good.”

“fuck me, please. m’begging you,” the tears welling in your eyes activate something inside of him he’s never felt before, heart thrashing in his chest as he grants you a rough kiss on your mouth before drawing his hips back to slam you up and down on his thick dick, the veiny ridges catering to every aching part inside of you.

“o-oh, my g-god,” you whisper in his ear, clawing into his back and burying your face into the crook of his neck, listening to the harshness of your ass clapping down onto his broad thighs the heavier he drops you down. “ngh, s’fuckin’ good.”

“mhm hmm,” is all he can get out, hissing and holding you up so the tip is only kissing your entrance before pounding into you with steady, rough strokes. the burn on his back from your scratches fuels him, grunting in your ear and fucking you deep. so deep you can’t control those filthy sounds he loves too badly.

“call me by my name,” he grits his teeth, your juices dripping down his balls that jump out of reaction from your dulcet voice. “right now, ꒰♡꒱. don’t be scared now.”

“charlie,” you whimper, pulling your face up to stare into his crepuscular eyes, near gone.

“nah,” he shakes his head. “how do you address me, ꒰♡꒱.”

lips pouty, you lean in to kiss him, mouths smacking together wetly, his hips hastening, your mouth slacking and cries falling when he begins to hit that good spot, almost losing your mind. “f-fuck, y-yessss! stay there, stay there please, father!”

“god, yes,” the dark bush of his eyebrows furrow on his face as he focuses on the tightness around his cock, sticking his tongue out of his mouth needing you to do the same. your tongue glides along his, father mayhew sucking on yours and thrusting harder. “greedy girl.”

your body begins to convulse, muscles tensing as the coil in your tummy tightens, aiding you to cum hard on his dick. he probed deeper, swiveling his hips and knocking into you rough and your pussy creams on him, tightening and pulsating as you cum and shake almost violently.

“anh—ughhh, b-baby.”

father mayhew watches your voice contort from your pleasure, crying out and sniffling from the feeling in your tummy that wouldn’t stop, looking like you’ll cum again. he can feel it, in fact.

“tell me you want this," he grunts, his voice rough with need. "tell me you crave my dick buried inside you. that it makes you feel so good. that you’re mine every fuckin’ time you come see me. tell me.”

“y-yes, i wan’ it,” your voice quite literally trembles, gasps coming out broken. “i wan’ you, need you. . fuckin’ me.”

“good fuckin’ girl, ꒰♡꒱. g-good fuckin’ girl. god, give me permission to cum.”

your voice gets caught in your throat when he stumbles back towards the wall, hiking you further up and pressing his palms flat to the wall, your ass recoiling and hitting the surface as he fucks you faster, and harder, keeping your knees high up. a death lock he has on you, you can barely move an inch. sinking and pulling out his girth by every filthy pound. your breath on his skin with his on yours. it was the ultimate embodiment of erotica.

“cum in me, cum in meeee!”

guttural moans and heavy panting stir between your neck, father mayhew giving you one final, heavy thrust before he’s cumming inside of you while you orgasm once more. gripping onto his hair tightly with your mouth faltering open, hiccuping and whining loudly. grounding your hips down to squeeze and milk him of everything he had for you. his release is loud, waist shuddering, and primal growls in your face with his forehead pressed to yours, bodies entwined in a sticky mess.

he keeps you stuck in this position for a while, heaving in your face and taking your lips to his again for another kiss, growing high off your shared taste.

“you ignite a fire within me unlike anything else.”

© 𝒮𝒯𝟦𝑅𝐵𝒲𝑅𝑅𝒴! all rights reserved. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[moonselune]

companions and drunk reader crying and cuddling with scratch + owlbear :33

I did this set at the reunion party because for some reason I thought that was part of the prompt but hey ho, some fluff to warm our souls and brighten us up during this darkside of the year <3

Karlach:

The reunion party was in full swing, the lively hum of conversation and laughter filling the air. Music played from a makeshift ensemble, and the scent of roasted meat and ale mingled with the crisp night breeze. You and Karlach had been inseparable for most of the evening, both of you reveling in the joy of being free from the hellish grasp of Avernus - even if it was a brief respite. Friends surrounded you, their faces lit with genuine smiles—a rare luxury in the trials you’d all endured together.

But as the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, Karlach found herself chatting animatedly with Wyll and Gale about some shared escapades. It wasn’t until a lull in the conversation that she noticed your absence.

Her brow furrowed as she scanned the crowd. Where had you gone? You’d been right beside her just moments ago. Her heart sank slightly as her mind played through the possibilities, but then she noticed a faint commotion near the far side of the camp, where the light of the bonfire barely reached.

Curiosity and concern prompted her to investigate.

As she approached, Karlach was met with a sight that was both hilarious and heartwarming. There you were, sprawled on the ground, your cheeks flushed from too much drink, nestled comfortably between Scratch, who was contentedly licking your face, and the owlbear cub—no longer a cub but still unmistakably affectionate. The owlbear had draped itself partially over your lap, its massive body radiating warmth, while you murmured incoherent endearments and occasionally giggled.

“You are such a good boy, Scratch,” you slurred, scratching behind the dog’s ears with one hand while your other patted the owlbear’s soft feathers. “And you—big ol’ fluff monster—you’re my second-best friend in the whole wide world. Don’t tell Scratch, though.”

The owlbear let out a low, rumbling coo, and Scratch wagged his tail enthusiastically.

Karlach leaned against a nearby tree, arms crossed, and just watched you for a moment, her expression softening. The firelight caught in her amber eyes, reflecting the warmth she felt in her chest. After everything you’d been through—fighting, surviving, struggling—it was moments like these that made it all worthwhile. Seeing you so carefree, surrounded by creatures who adored you, filled her with a quiet contentment.

“Well, well,” she drawled, stepping closer, her voice laced with affection. “I leave you alone for five minutes, and you’ve already gone and replaced me with fur and feathers.”

You looked up at her, blinking owlishly, and broke into a wide, dopey grin. “Karlach! Join us! There’s so much love here, it’s like… like a cuddle explosion!”

She chuckled, her heart melting a little more. “A cuddle explosion, huh? Sounds dangerous.”

“It’s the best kind of dangerous,” you declared, patting the ground beside you.

Karlach didn’t need much convincing. With a theatrical sigh, she dropped to the ground beside you, her warm body pressing against yours. Scratch immediately climbed into her lap, while the owlbear shuffled closer to include her in its feathery embrace.

“You know,” she said, her voice low and tender, “I think this might be the happiest I’ve ever seen you.”

“‘Cause I’m with you,” you mumbled, resting your head on her shoulder. “And Scratch. And Big Fluffy. It’s perfect.”

Karlach wrapped an arm around you, her fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

“You’re perfect, babe” she murmured, pressing a kiss to your temple.

Minthara:

The reunion party was a raucous affair, the camp alive with laughter, clinking mugs, and the occasional outburst of song. Minthara had joined reluctantly at your insistence, her usual composed demeanor barely hiding the faint amusement she felt as she observed the chaos.

The Drow paladin rarely indulged in such frivolity, the two of you had an Underdark to conquor afterall, but tonight she allowed herself to linger, even engaging in a deep conversation with Astarion, who had recently returned to the Underdark to settle down.

As the two shared dry wit and sharp banter, Minthara’s keen eyes darted across the camp, instinctively searching for you. When she realized you were nowhere in sight, she narrowed her eyes.

"Where has that fool wandered off to now?" she muttered under her breath, much to Astarion’s amusement.

“Ah, love,” Astarion quipped, a sly smirk on his lips. “It makes us chase after them even when we’d rather not.”

Minthara rolled her eyes but didn’t deny it. She excused herself, muttering something about responsibility, and began to search for you. It didn’t take long—muffled giggles and low, rumbling noises led her toward the outskirts of the gathering. There, illuminated by the faint glow of the moonlight, she found you sprawled on the ground.

You were nestled between Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it had long since outgrown the 'cub' moniker—and were clearly the drunkest she had ever seen you. Your face was flushed, your hair mussed, and your arms were wrapped tightly around the two creatures as if they were your most precious treasures.

“Listen,” you whispered conspiratorially to the owlbear, though your volume defeated the purpose. “We’re gonna take over the Underdark. Me, you, Scratch, and Minthara. She’s so scary and smart. We’ll rule everything. But don’t tell her—it’s a secret plan.”

Minthara crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow as she approached.

"A secret plan, is it?" she asked, her voice dripping with mock disdain. “Taking over the Underdark with a dog and an owlbear? Truly, you’re a visionary.”

You looked up at her with wide, bleary eyes, your face breaking into a sloppy grin.

“Minthara! You found me!” you exclaimed, holding out a hand. “Join us! It’s a cuddle coup.”

She sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, though there was a flicker of amusement in her crimson eyes.

“You’re insufferable,” she muttered, turning to walk away.

But before she could take a step, you staggered to your feet with surprising agility for someone so far gone. With a triumphant shout, you lunged at her, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her down to the ground.

Minthara yelped in surprise, glaring daggers at you as she landed unceremoniously on the grass.

“Have you lost your mind?” she snapped, but her anger quickly gave way to resignation as Scratch and the owlbear cub immediately joined in, nuzzling against her.

She froze, her normally stern expression softening as Scratch licked her cheek and the owlbear rumbled contentedly. She didn’t push them away, though she grumbled, “You’ve turned me into a damned pillow.”

You beamed at her, your face close to hers as you slurred, “You’re the best pillow ever. And the best everything else. I adore you, Minthara. You, Scratch, Owlie—you're all my favorite.”

Her cheeks darkened with a faint blush, though she refused to acknowledge it.

“You’re drunk,” she said curtly, her voice lacking its usual sharpness.

“And in love,” you replied with drunken sincerity, leaning in to press a kiss to her lips. It was sloppy and uncoordinated, but Minthara didn’t pull away. She sighed, her hand coming to rest on your cheek for just a moment before she let it fall.

“I'm going to kill you,” she muttered, though her tone was more affectionate than irritated.

You grinned, nuzzling against her like a contented cat. “I can't wait.”

Minthara rolled her eyes, though a small, almost imperceptible smile played at the corners of her mouth. As Scratch and the owlbear settled around you both, she resigned herself to her fate, lying back against the grass and letting the warmth of the moment wash over her.

Perhaps you were impossible. But you were hers.

Lae'zel:

The reunion party was in full swing, the air buzzing with laughter, music, and the clinking of mugs. You’d coaxed Lae’zel into attending, promising her that Xan, your precious hatchling, would be fine under the watchful eyes of Voss and the rebels - who were surprisingly more than happy to look after him. Though she had reluctantly agreed, you noticed her gaze drifting toward the camp’s perimeter now and then, her brows furrowed with that familiar Githyanki intensity.

“Relax, Lae’zel,” you teased, nudging her gently. “Xan is fine. Tonight is about us.”

Lae’zel gave you a skeptical glance but said nothing, her hand brushing against yours briefly—a rare public display of affection from her that made your heart swell. For a while, the two of you enjoyed the festivities, sharing drinks and banter with your companions. But as the evening wore on and the wine flowed more freely, you became… well, significantly more inebriated.

At some point, Lae’zel turned to speak with Wyll, who was recounting one of his latest exploits. When she turned back, you were gone.

Her jaw clenched as she scanned the crowd, her warrior instincts kicking in despite the harmless nature of the gathering. She stomped through the camp, muttering curses under her breath as she searched for you.

“You couldn’t stay in one place, could you?” she growled.

It wasn’t long before she heard familiar, albeit slurred, murmuring. Following the sound, she found you sprawled on the ground near the campfire, flanked by Scratch and the now nearly full-grown owlbear cub. Tears streamed down your face as you hugged the animals close, stroking their fur and feathers.

“I love her so much,” you sobbed into Scratch’s neck. “And Xan. Xan is perfect. Perfect little hatchling.”

Lae’zel froze, her expression caught between exasperation and disbelief. She crossed her arms and glared down at you. “What are you doing, fool?”

You looked up at her, your face lighting up with drunken joy.

“Lae’zel!” you cried, holding out your arms. “You’re here! You’re so amazing, and strong, and—hic—beautiful. I love you.”

Lae’zel pinched the bridge of her nose, her shoulders heaving with a deep sigh.

“You are worse than Xan when he is hungry,” she muttered. Turning her attention to the animals, she pointed toward the river. “Drag this mess into the water. Perhaps it will sober them up.”

Scratch tilted his head, his tail wagging, while the owlbear let out a soft, rumbling croon. They looked at her, clearly uninterested in complying.

You giggled, stroking the owlbear’s feathers. “They like you, Lae’zel. They know you’re the best. Everyone knows you’re the best.”

Lae’zel’s irritation flickered, her lips pressing into a tight line as she fought to suppress the small smile threatening to emerge.

“You’re insufferable,” she declared, but there was no venom in her tone.

At her words, you burst into fresh tears. “Xan is so lucky to have you as a mom. I’m so lucky! How did I get so lucky?”

Lae’zel knelt beside you, her movements stiff but deliberate as she pulled you upright and into her arms.

“You’re drunk and ridiculous,” she said, her voice low but steady.

You wrapped your arms around her, clinging tightly. “But I love you,” you mumbled into her shoulder.

Lae’zel let out a small, exasperated sigh, but she didn’t push you away. Instead, she adjusted her grip, holding you firmly against her.

Her fingers brushed against your hair as she murmured, “You are fortunate I have patience tonight.”

You snuggled into her embrace, your tears finally subsiding as warmth and exhaustion took over. Though her expression remained stoic, a faint, hidden smile tugged at the corners of her lips. She did love you, she loved Xan, and the feathered and furred beasts weren't too bad either.

Shadowheart:

The reunion party was a vibrant celebration, a gathering of friends, companions, and allies, each reveling in the hard-won peace after so many battles. You and Shadowheart stood together, hand in hand, sharing a quiet joy amid the merriment. The news that the owlbear cub—now a formidable but still affectionate creature—would be coming back to your farm had filled you both with delight. The prospect of a peaceful life on your little slice of the countryside, surrounded by Scratch, the owlbear, your other small army of animals and each other, was everything you’d dreamed of.

You’d both mingled, laughed, and shared drinks, but at some point, Shadowheart turned to grab another bottle of wine, only to find you had disappeared. Her brow furrowed, though she didn’t panic. You weren’t exactly subtle when you were drunk, and it wasn’t hard to follow the sound of your voice, rising in animated, tearful elation.

When she finally found you, Shadowheart couldn’t help but pause, her arms crossing as she observed the scene before her. You were seated on the grass near the campfire, Scratch pressed against your side, his tail wagging lazily, while the owlbear nestled on the other side, its feathers ruffled as you gently stroked its beak.

“And you’re gonna love the farm,” you slurred, gesturing wildly with the bottle in your hand. “There’s fields to run in, and soft places to sleep, and you two—” you sniffed, your voice breaking slightly as you turned to the animals— “are gonna be so happy. So loved.”

The owlbear let out a deep, contented rumble, and Scratch licked your cheek, which only made your drunken tears flow harder. Shadowheart raised an eyebrow, her lips quirking into a small smile.

“You’re really laying it on thick, aren’t you?” she said, stepping into the firelight.

Your head snapped up, your face lighting up as if you’d seen the sun itself.

“Shadowheart!” you cried, scrambling to your feet only to stumble and flop back onto the grass. “You’re here! Come here, come here—cuddle pile!”

Shadowheart sighed but couldn’t suppress her amused grin as you reached out for her.

“You’re hopeless,” she muttered, though there was no real bite to her words. She approached and allowed herself to be pulled down into the pile of fur and feathers, the owlbear shifting to make room for her as Scratch barked happily.

“This is the best night ever,” you declared, wrapping your arms around her and pressing a kiss to her temple. “I’m so happy, Shadowheart. We’re gonna have the best life. You, me, Scratch, and this big feathery baby.”

She shook her head, laughing softly as she snatched the bottle from your hand.

“You’ve had enough,” she said, taking a swig herself. The wine burned pleasantly as it went down, and she let out a contented sigh. “Though I suppose I can’t argue with your enthusiasm.”

As the night wore on, Shadowheart found herself caught up in your infectious joy. She joined in on your rambling talks of the future—of gardens you’d plant, adventures you’d take, and all the little moments of happiness waiting for you both.

“You know,” she said, her voice soft as she leaned her head against your shoulder, “I think you’re right. This is going to be a good life.”

Your only response was a drunken hum of agreement, your arms tightening around her as the warmth of the fire, the animals, and each other enveloped you both. In that moment, everything felt perfect. Everything was perfect. Everything was going to be perfect.

Jaheira:

The reunion party was in full swing, laughter and music filling the air as friends and allies celebrated the peace you had all fought so hard to achieve. You and Jaheira stood together for much of the evening, your hand occasionally brushing against hers in a quiet intimacy. She was radiant in her element, speaking with old friends, trading stories of past battles, and offering wisdom to those who sought it.

At some point, she became engrossed in a conversation with Halsin, the two of them naturally drawn together by their shared love for nature and nurturing. Their talk turned to the orphans Halsin had come to care for, and Jaheira, with her ever-compassionate heart, shared tales of her own tendency to adopt and guide wayward children.

“I suppose I can’t help myself,” she admitted with a soft chuckle. “Perhaps it’s the druid in me, or perhaps just the mother.”

Halsin nodded with a knowing smile. “It’s a noble trait, Jaheira. The world is better for it.”

But as Jaheira began to share another story, she realized something: you were no longer at her side. She scanned the crowd, her brow furrowing in mild irritation.

“Speaking of wayward children,” she muttered under her breath, excusing herself from Halsin with a polite nod. “Now where have you wandered off to?”

It wasn’t hard to track you down; she simply followed the faint sound of sniffling and tearful rambling. What she found made her stop in her tracks, crossing her arms with an exasperated sigh.

There you were, sprawled on the grass near the fire, clutching Scratch and the owlbear cub—though it was hardly a cub anymore. The owlbear sat with a dignified sort of calm, its feathers ruffled from your clumsy affection, while Scratch lay happily across your lap, his tail wagging lazily.

“And you guys,” you sniffled, gesturing to the animals with the bottle still clutched in one hand, “you’re the best. I love you so much. You’re good boys. The best boys.”

Jaheira approached, shaking her head as she took in the sight of you, your face red from tears and wine.

“What on earth are you doing?” she asked, though her voice held a note of amusement. You looked up, your tear-streaked face lighting up at the sight of her.

“Jaheira!” you cried, holding your arms out dramatically. “You’re here! Come cuddle with us!”

“Cuddle?” she repeated, raising an eyebrow. “Darling, you’re drunk.”

“I’m emotional,” you corrected, your voice wobbling as fresh tears welled in your eyes. “And you have to cuddle with us, or—or I’ll never forgive you! Ever!”

Jaheira sighed, pressing a hand to her forehead as though trying to muster the patience of a saint.

“You are worse than Halsin's orphans,” she teased, but there was no mistaking the warmth in her tone. “And that’s saying something.”

Your lip wobbled, and you clutched Scratch tighter.

“Please,” you whimpered, the plea so earnest and pitiful that Jaheira couldn’t help but laugh.

“All right, all right,” she said, holding her hands up in mock surrender. “If it means that much to you.”

She knelt beside you, allowing you to pull her into the chaotic cuddle pile. The owlbear gave a soft hoot, adjusting its position to include her, while Scratch wagged his tail even harder at her presence.

“See?” you murmured, wrapping your arms around her as you leaned heavily against her shoulder. “This is nice. Isn’t it nice?”

Jaheira let out a long-suffering sigh, though a smile tugged at her lips as she rested her head against yours.

“You’re ridiculously impossible,” she said softly. “But yes, this is… nice.”

For a while, the two of you sat there, surrounded by warmth and fur and feathers. Jaheira found herself relaxing despite the absurdity of the situation, her arm slipping around your waist as she pressed a soft kiss to your temple.

“You’re lucky I love you,” she murmured. You hummed happily, nuzzling into her shoulder.

“I know,” you slurred, the wine making your voice thick. “And I love you, too. So, so much.”

Jaheira chuckled, shaking her head as she tightened her hold on you.

“You’ll be the death of me,” she said fondly. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Gale:

The reunion party buzzed with energy, laughter and conversation flowing freely among friends old and new - thanks to Minsc's addition. You and Gale were nestled in a quieter corner of the celebration, a glass of wine in your hand and Gale gesturing animatedly with his own as he launched into an impassioned tale about his latest trials as a professor at Blackstaff Academy.

“…and would you believe it? One of the students thought it prudent to attempt wild magic on their first evocation test! I spent half the afternoon dispelling chaos and putting out fires—literal fires—and the other half explaining why summoning imps in a classroom was hardly conducive to learning.”

You nodded along, smiling as you watched the way his eyes lit up when he spoke of his work. His passion was endearing, and yet… a mischievous thought crept into your mind as you caught sight of Scratch wagging his tail nearby, the owlbear cub—no longer quite a cub—lounging lazily beside him.

When Gale paused to take a sip of his wine, you saw your chance.

“Fascinating,” you said quickly, standing and pressing a kiss to his cheek. “Be right back, love.”

He blinked, caught off guard but easily reassured by the peck. “Oh, certainly. Don’t wander too far.”

You didn’t answer, instead making a beeline for the animals. A few moments later, you were leading Scratch and the owlbear cub away from the main gathering, giggling to yourself as you went. An hour later, Gale finally noticed your absence and set off to find you.

He tracked you down by the sound of your voice, soft and teasing as you lounged in a quiet grove just beyond the party. There you were, sprawled on the grass with Scratch snuggled into one side and the owlbear cub resting its heavy head on your lap. Your cheeks were flushed with drink, your eyes glassy with a mix of affection and mischief.

“And Gale,” you slurred, stroking the owlbear’s feathers as if imparting some great wisdom, “wanted to be a god. A god! Can you believe it? Silly Gale. He doesn’t need to be a god. He’s already… already my god. My love, my life…” Your voice dropped conspiratorially, and you hiccupped. “But he would’ve been a prick as a god. Don’t you think?”

“Do you think so?” Gale’s amused voice cut in, and you turned your head to see him standing there, arms crossed but a fond smile tugging at his lips. You gasped dramatically.

“Gale!” You grinned at him, patting the grass beside you. “Come here! Join us! Cuddle!”

“I think not,” he said, though the smile on his face betrayed him. “Someone has to ensure you don’t declare my divine candidacy to the owlbear.”

Your grin wavered, and you pouted, your bottom lip trembling as your eyes filled with exaggerated tears.

“You won’t cuddle with me?” you sniffled, your voice wobbling. “You don’t love me anymore?”

Gale’s resolve crumbled instantly. He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You know I can’t say no to that face.”

With a dramatic flourish, you opened your arms wide. “Then get over here, Professor Dekarios!”

He rolled his eyes but couldn’t hide the laughter bubbling in his chest as he lowered himself to the grass beside you. Scratch immediately wriggled over to press against his side, while the owlbear gave a satisfied huff and shifted to accommodate him. You threw your arms around him, nuzzling into his chest as if he were the most comfortable pillow in the world.

“See?” you murmured, your voice soft and content. “This is perfect. My god. My Gale.”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to your hair. “I suppose there are worse fates than being your god. Though next time, perhaps less wine and more water.”

You hummed in agreement, already half-asleep against him. Gale shook his head, his heart full as he tightened his arms around you and let the peaceful moment wash over him.

Astarion:

The reunion party was in full swing, with the warm glow of laughter and clinking glasses filling the air. You and Astarion had arrived arm-in-arm, though the two of you quickly found yourselves mingling with different groups. Astarion had gravitated toward Minthara, the two of them caught in an animated conversation about how you and he had adjusted to life in the Underdark—a topic Astarion spoke of with a surprising fondness.

You, however, had been immediately distracted by Scratch, whose wagging tail and joyful demeanor were too much to resist. You’d spent some time tossing a stick for him before finding the owlbear cub—now fully grown—lounging nearby. One thing led to another, and soon enough, you’d wandered off, leaving Astarion none the wiser.

When he finally noticed your absence, it was only because Minthara raised an eyebrow mid-conversation. “It seems your partner has… disappeared.”

Astarion sighed, his eyes scanning the crowd. “They do tend to wander, don’t they? One moment they’re here, the next, they’ve likely befriended every stray within a ten-mile radius.”

It didn’t take him long to find you. The sound of your drunken sniffles and delighted murmurs led him to a quiet corner of the grove, where you were sprawled on the grass, your arms wrapped around Scratch and the owlbear cub. Your cheeks were flushed, your eyes glassy, and you were mid-sentence in what appeared to be an earnest declaration.

“You’re just… so cute,” you hiccupped, scratching the owlbear behind its feathered ears. “Both of you. The cutest. I don’t deserve you. Nobody does.”

Astarion stepped closer, his lips curling into a smirk as he crossed his arms.

“Well, well, what have we here?” he drawled, his voice dripping with amusement. “The drunkest I’ve ever seen you, cuddling animals and crying over their cuteness. Truly, a sight to behold.”

You looked up at him, your expression a mix of delight and indignation.

“It’s not my fault!” you exclaimed, sitting up—though the effort made you wobble. “Scratch… Scratch has been fetching me wine!”

Astarion raised a skeptical brow, his smirk widening. “Scratch has been fetching you wine? Darling, I taught you to lie better than that.”

You gasped, clutching Scratch protectively. “Are you calling me a liar? Scratch would never let me lie. He’s too good, too pure!”

The dog wagged his tail innocently, clearly pleased with the attention. He rolled his eyes but couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips as he moved to sit beside you.

“Yes, yes, Scratch is the pinnacle of virtue. Now, move over before you collapse completely.” He pulled you against his side, his arm wrapping around your waist. You immediately snuggled into him, still hiccuping slightly as you continued to pet the animals.

Just as Astarion was starting to feel truly settled, Scratch suddenly trotted off.

“And where are you going, you furry little enabler?” he called after the dog. Moments later, Scratch returned, tail wagging proudly as he carried a bottle of blood in his jaws. Astarion’s mouth fell open slightly in surprise, and then he laughed, the sound rich and genuine. “Well, I’ll be damned. He really is a very good boy.”

He took the bottle from Scratch, patting the dog’s head affectionately.

“My apologies, my love. It seems you weren’t lying. Who would have thought Shadowheart’s greatest contribution to our journey all those months ago was teaching this beast to fetch drinks?”

You giggled, leaning up to press a sloppy kiss to his cheek. “Told you so. Scratch is a genius. The cutest genius in the whole wide world.”

"And what about me, am I not cute?" Astarion asked in mock offence as he brushed a rogue strand of hair out of your face.

"Not as cute as Scratch and Owlbear but you try -hey give me back my wine!" You whined as Astarion took your bottle from you, brows raised, suggesting you try again. You huffed and rested your head on his shoulder looking up at him with big wet doe eyes. "You are not as cute, because you are twice as beautiful."

"I don't know if that makes sense, but I'll take it." He said, giving you back your wine with a small smile. He would have taken it off you, you really were the drunkest he had ever seen but your so-called 'wine' was actually water, Scratch really was a genius.

Wyll:

The reunion party was in full swing, a mix of old friends, laughter, and the clinking of glasses raised high in celebration. The air buzzed with the joy of shared victories and the promise of futures finally free of hardship. You and Wyll had spent much of the evening together, arm in arm, swapping stories and indulging in the abundant wine. It was a rare, beautiful moment to simply be—no battles to fight, no worlds to save.

For Wyll, the sight of you laughing and glowing with life was a reward all its own. But as the hours ticked by and the wine loosened tongues and inhibitions alike, you had somehow slipped away.

It wasn’t unusual. You had a penchant for wandering when the drink took hold of you, curiosity leading you to wherever your heart fancied. Wyll, ever patient and knowing, only chuckled to himself when he realized you were gone. After excusing himself from a lively conversation with Halsin and Minsc, who were subtley trying to out-brag the other (nothing had changed there) he set out to find you, his long strides carrying him through the grove as he kept an ear out for your familiar voice.

It didn’t take long. He followed the soft sound of sniffling to a secluded patch of grass where the moonlight spilled down like a spotlight. There, nestled between Scratch and the owlbear—no longer a cub but still affectionately devoted—you sat, tears streaming down your flushed cheeks as you buried your face in the owlbear’s feathers.

“They’re just… so cute,” you murmured, your voice thick with drunken emotion. Scratch’s tail thumped happily against the ground, clearly basking in your attention, while the owlbear tilted its head in quiet curiosity.

Wyll stopped, the sight making him blink in surprise. His hand rose to cover the grin tugging at his lips.

“Oh, my love,” he said softly, his voice tinged with both amusement and affection. “What have you gotten yourself into now?”

Your head shot up at the sound of his voice, and the moment your eyes met his, a fresh wave of tears spilled over.

“Wyll!” you exclaimed, your voice breaking as though his very presence was a miracle. “You’re here! And you’re so… so cute!”

Wyll blinked, momentarily startled, before laughter rumbled low in his chest.

“I’m cute, am I?” he asked, kneeling beside you. His grin widened as he took in the wine bottle lying haphazardly nearby and the glassy, adoring look in your eyes.

“Yes!” you wailed, throwing your arms out dramatically. “Your smile is cute, and your horns are cute, and your eyes are cute, and your hair is cute!” You punctuated each word with a hiccupping sob, your hand waving wildly as if to emphasize your point.

Wyll’s brows lifted in amusement, though his gaze softened with love.

“I see the wine has been particularly generous with you tonight,” he teased, brushing a stray tear from your cheek. “I’m sorry for being so… unbearably adorable. Shall I tone it down?”

“No!” you exclaimed, clutching his hand as though the idea was unthinkable. “Don’t stop being cute! It’s the best thing about you—no, wait.” You gasped as though struck by a revelation. “Everything about you is the best thing!”

Wyll let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head. “You are truly something else,” he said, his voice warm as he reached out to steady you. “Even when drunk, you’re determined to flatter me into blushing.”

Your lip wobbled, and you suddenly looked utterly distraught.

“Even your boots are cute,” you whispered, as though it was the most profound truth you had ever spoken.

That was enough to undo Wyll completely. He laughed, full and unguarded, before leaning forward to press a kiss to your temple.

“Alright, alright,” he said gently. “I’ll take responsibility for being impossibly charming.”

You sniffled, your tears slowing as the exhaustion of the evening began to creep up on you. With a soft hiccup, you slumped forward, burying your face in his chest. Wyll’s arms instinctively wrapped around you, holding you close as he stroked your back.

“You’re a handful, you know that?” he murmured, though his tone held no irritation—only affection. “But I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

The owlbear gave a low croon and leaned in, its head nuzzling against Wyll’s shoulder as though to share in the moment. Scratch let out a soft bark of agreement, his tail thumping against the ground. Wyll chuckled, his voice rumbling in his chest.

“You’ve managed to rally quite the crowd,” he said softly, glancing down at your peaceful face. But when you didn’t respond, he realized you had fallen asleep, your breath even and steady against his chest.

“Oh, my heart,” he said, shaking his head with a fond smile. “What am I to do with you?”

Carefully, he adjusted his hold and scooped you into his arms. The owlbear and Scratch followed as he carried you back toward the firelight of the party. Wyll’s steps were steady, his gaze warm as he looked down at you. Even in your drunken, tearful mess, you were his mess.

And he wouldn’t trade you for the world.

Halsin:

The reunion party was nothing short of spectacular. Lanterns hung from the ancient trees, casting soft, golden light over the gathering. Music and laughter mingled with the sounds of the old faithful camp at night, a serene backdrop to the revelry. You had started the evening with Halsin, both of you basking in the joy of seeing friends and allies together again. It was a rare chance to relax, to celebrate the life you had built after the chaos.

Halsin was soon drawn into a conversation about the orphans you and he had taken in. A circle of the more compassionate companions had gathered around him, captivated as he spoke about the children’s growth, their joy, and the home you were creating. His deep voice carried over the crowd, filled with pride and hope. You stood beside him for a time, sipping wine and listening, but your attention was eventually caught by a familiar sight—Scratch wagging his tail and the owlbear, now fully grown, ambling nearby.

"Look at them," you murmured, already swaying slightly as the wine took hold. "Two perfect, fluffy creatures, and they need my attention."

With a mischievous smile, you slipped away, weaving your way through the crowd, wineglass in hand. By the time Halsin realized you were gone, you had already disappeared into a quieter part of the grove. He smiled to himself, fondly amused, and excused himself from the conversation.

“She’s probably plotting something,” he said with a chuckle, following the faint sound of your voice.

It didn’t take long to find you. Beneath a sprawling oak, you were sprawled on the grass, cuddling Scratch and the owlbear. You had an almost-empty bottle of wine in one hand, your other arm draped dramatically over the owlbear’s shoulders. Your cheeks were flushed, your hair a bit disheveled, and your voice carried through the night as you spoke with exaggerated fervor.

"Listen here, Scratch," you said, poking his nose gently with your finger. "And you, too," you added, pointing to the owlbear, who blinked at you with wide, curious eyes. "You’re coming home with me. No arguments. It’s decided. We’re a family now."

Scratch barked happily, his tail thumping against the ground. The owlbear hooted softly, tilting its head as if contemplating your declaration.

You nodded solemnly, taking another swig of wine.

"Halsin might say no, but don’t you worry." You leaned in close, your voice dropping into a conspiratorial whisper that was anything but quiet. "I have my ways of convincing him. Very persuasive ways." You wiggled your eyebrows in an exaggerated manner, giggling at your own implication.

Then, as if struck by the sheer emotional gravity of the moment, your voice wavered, and tears welled up in your eyes.

"But if that doesn’t work," you said, your words thick with feeling, "I’ll just cry! Like this!" You dramatically buried your face into Scratch’s fur, letting out a loud, theatrical sob.

From the shadows, Halsin watched, arms crossed, a bemused smile playing on his lips. Finally, he stepped forward, his voice warm and steady. “Tears, my heart, will not be necessary.”

You froze, your head snapping up to look at him with wide, tear-filled eyes.

"Halsin!" you exclaimed, scrambling to sit up and almost tipping over in the process. "When did you get here?"

"Not long ago," he replied, crouching down beside you. "Long enough to hear your… strategy."

You waved the bottle in his direction, sloshing a bit of wine onto the grass.

"It’s a good strategy," you insisted, pointing at him with exaggerated authority. "Very effective."

Halsin chuckled, his large hand brushing a strand of hair from your face.

"I’m sure it is," he said indulgently. "But I assure you, no convincing is necessary."

“What about the other thing?” you asked, your voice dropping into a clumsy attempt at sultriness that only made Halsin laugh more.

“When you’re sober,” he said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

You turned back to Scratch and the owlbear, lowering your voice to a loud whisper. “See? I told you it would work. He may be Daddy Halsin, but we all know who the real daddy is.”

Halsin’s brows shot up, a deep laugh rumbling from his chest. “Do we now?” he asked, scooping you into his arms with practiced ease.

You clung to him, your head resting against his broad chest as you continued to mumble incoherently about your master plan.

"Fluffy family forever," you declared, nuzzling into his tunic.

Scratch barked again, wagging his tail enthusiastically, while the owlbear lumbered after you both. Halsin shook his head fondly, his smile softening as he looked down at you.

“You are a marvel,” he said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

As he carried you back toward the heart of the party, you sighed contentedly, your arms tightening around his neck.

“You’re the best, Halsin,” you murmured, your words slurring but full of affection. “The absolute best.”

“And you,” he replied, his voice low and full of warmth, “are an utter wonder.”

I hope you guys enjoyed this, I worked quite hard on it and it was quite a good distraction. Love you all - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[graciedollie]

hi hii, all the fanfics I read the reader was very feminine, but I was thinking about how cool it would be to do one where the reader is Ambessa's guard, and is muscular and big (but also very shy), Ambessa feels attracted and wants to see if the reader is good at other things besides fighting.....🙈

do it in your own time! ❤️‍🩹

Wandering Lamb

Pair: Ambessa Medarda x MuscularShy!Reader

Summary: You were one of Ambessa’s best soldiers, doing excellent in training and on the battlefield. She was oddly drawn to you, knowing you had much potential. Though, while doing your duties, you happen to stumble upon a sight you’d never forget. Curiosity killed the cat, as they say.

Warnings: Face-fucking, age difference (we love to see), fingering, just lex sesbian, praise(we definitely love to see it), Reader is Ambessa’s guard, AMBESSA HAS A BUSH (YES GOD), nothing too drastic or over the top 🎀

A/N: Hopefully this is to your liking babes <3 (i lowkey feel like my fics are going to shit cause of the decreased likes🧍🏾‍♀️)

The night hung high in the sky, casting over the land of Noxus with a thick hue of soft light. You were carefully stalking your way down the halls, panting slightly after a good day of training—well, intense. Training was, as usual, intense and sweat inducing, but you were good in training—hella good. Of course when you first started off, it was rocky as expected, but with time passing—you became one of Ambessa’s best soldiers. Sure her other soldiers did good, but you—you were a beast.

Though you were really skilled and powerful in combat, you were a shy little thing—balancing out your appearance with your personality. Body of a wolf, soul of a lamb. You were sweet and shy, but during battle—you were ruthless. As you spent your years of working your way up as a soldier, you became attracted to the one who pushed you along the way—Ambessa, Noxus fearless warlord. Now, she was absolutely stunning—nearly the beauty of a powerful goddess.

Unfortunately so, you didn’t want to seem out of order or unorthodox to have such feelings towards your higher up, which meant you had to push those feelings deep down and act normal when you were around her. Your mind was wandering with thoughts of her as you stalked your way down the long hallway, patrolling the halls as your usual duty when you weren’t fighting alongside her in battle, which was always a fine honor.

Keeping your eyes closely locked around your environments, it was until then that a noise from her bedroom caught you off guard—eliciting you to swiftly move and enter her room—weapon clutched in your hand.

“General. Are you ok?” Your voice was strained with concern and curiosity, furrowing your brows tightly as your quick feet moved across the marble floors before barging into the large bathroom as you didn’t find her in the bed.

There was no apparent danger, but the sight that was before you—damn near sinful. She laid soaking in the steaming tub, rich brown skin glowing in the dim light, and silver coils crowning her head. Her eyes glanced over with a disapproving gaze before a sly grin tugged at her red lips—nearly making you weak in the knees as her gaze on you was intense.

“And what may be the trouble of you rudely interrupting me, hm?” god that voice. You always loved that voice—whether she was calm and collected or either stern and scolding. It was something you never get tired of, always imagining the way her voice would flow through your ears with her fingers knee deep in yo—unfortunately, those thoughts weren’t to be welcomed.

“Uh—I apologize dearly, General. I…I thought I heard something and figured something was wrong—I’m sorry for interrupting..” Your voice was slightly strained with nerves, practically radiating around your built body, clasping the weapon tightly in your hand as your eyes met with hers before drifting lower, but quickly snapping to her eyes.

But she knew and she wanted you to look.

Ambessa took great pride in her body—the body she put in extensive work to earn. She tilted her head to the side while eyeing you intensely and shamelessly, humming in approval with the way you were built, but was shy as hell. It was honestly endearing to her and she knew that she needed you—and she knew you wanted the same.

“Come.” It wasn’t a request, it was an order—which you gladly followed as you swiftly stalked your way to the large bath, seeing just the way her breast were visibly in the calm waters and how the light scars adorned her beautiful brown skin—god you felt that you were in paradise. Her eyes peered into yours, sensing the nervousness in your eyes as she felt a small smirk tuh at her lips.

“As you know, you are one of my finest guards and best soldier, yes?” She raised a brow at you, expecting your answer quickly, which you quickly responded, “Yes! I am…I put great work and pride in my duties and training—just as you taught me, General.”

A hum of approval was heard from her at your choice of words, clearly liking the impression you were making. Her eyes stayed locked on yours fully before trailing down your body—taking in the way your muscles gleamed with leftover sweat from training.

“And what comes with that is an reward, yes?”

You were honesty ecstatic at her words, fighting the stupid grin that threatened to ghost over your lips. Your mind was racing with so many thing—maybe she’ll do this or that or this or that—with the possibilities being questionable. “Yes…”

“Excellent. I know just the reward for such a loyal, devoted woman you are…”

You just couldn’t wait for what she had in store for you <3

This was not what you were expecting…but you damn sure weren’t complaining.

Your clothes and weapon were completely abandoned to the side of the tub, leaving your body completely exposed to her lustful gaze and wandering eyes—taking in your toned built. You felt extremely shy as you were practically on a stand and her eyes observed your body intensely—catching the litter of scars adorning your skin.

She curled her finger in a ‘come here’ motion, which you quickly pushed through the water to get to her before her hands finally roamed all over your body, “Quite the view..”

“Oh…thank you, u-uh General..” You couldn’t help the nervous chuckle that climbed from its chamber, internally face-palming yourself for doing the stupid gesture, but that was quickly pushed aside as her lips finally found your neck and suckled at the skin. A low moan escaped your mouth as her velvety tongue trailed over the delicate skin, leaving bites and kisses in her trail.

This felt like totally paradise. This is what you’ve wanted for so long. Your eyes fluttered as she slowly leaned you back to have you lay back against edge of the tub, lips never leaving your neck while her large hand ventured under the water and between your toned thighs—sliding her thumb across your slit, earning a soft gasp.

“Ambessa—“

“General.” She quickly corrected you, pulling away from your neck to take in your expressions as her thumb rubbed slow, firm circles over your aching clit—smirking at the sight before her. “You’ve peaked my interest, dear. Such a strong, loyal, and trustworthy woman you are. I respect that…”

Your hips bucked up to her touch, causing little ripples of water to scatter. Her eyes peered into yours before you turned to look away, only to be met with her other hand gripping your chin firmly and forcing the intense eye contact. “Look at me when I’m speaking to you.”

Her voice was firm and stern—the voice you loved hearing every time she spoke, god you needed her badly. You nodded quickly in compliance to her words, nodded eyes gazing into her peering ones—gasping as she slowly slipped a single finger in you with ease. Her fingers were thick, of course, but not this much. The way only one single finger felt, you were uncertain about adding another—three, at that matter.

“I-oh my gosh…General..” Your body was practically burning due to the stretch and with the sweet pleasure of her rubbing over your clit—slowly picking up the pace of her motions as she watched you intently.

You looked utterly breathtaking. Eyes were fluttering, struggling to keep eye contact. Mouth parted with gasp and low moans. Toned stomach flexing. Muscular thighs jerking with each pump of her finger and each flex of your sculptured arms as you slightly squirmed. “For a resilient woman, you are the shyest thing I’ve ever laid eyes on—how adorable.”

Your words were quickly spurring you on, moaning and grunting in response to her words—looking at her with a silent plea in your eyes, but that wouldn’t work with her. “Words or do you not want more? I’m sure you deserve an reward, no? It would be a shame if I had to take it away..”

“N-no! I…I need more…please.” Your voice was slightly shaky and strained, huffing slightly as you were worked up—already feeling yourself on the brink of combusting. She couldn’t help the smirk grazing over her lips, taking in the sight of your expressions as she added another finger—making you feel full.

“Oh…shitshitshit, General….please..”Your eyes were fluttering as they threatened to roll back, but you stayed strong as you knew she’d stop if you looked away—having this moment with her was a great honor, yes? Of course it was, with the way your pussy was gripping her fingers, enjoying this was an understatement.

“There we go…feels good to be rewarded, doesn’t it?” She hummed lowly against your lips, feeling your quicken gasps and whines as you quickly nodded, looking at her with hooded eyes, “Yes—y-yes…so good..”

“I know, I know…come for me, love..”

Her words were all the encouragement that you need, along with her thrusting her fingers quickly and steadily—earning a broken moan escaping your mouth as your thighs tensed up and jerked as the orgasm crashed over your body like a wave.

She was definitely going to enjoy a sweet thing such as yourself.

You felt you could die, but in a happy way, of course.

Here you were, face deep in the older woman’s thighs, trailing soft and delicate kisses along the toned, brown skin of her inner thighs as you were on your knees. She had her hand buried in your hair, making sure your eyes stayed locked on to hers—peering down at you with a lustful and appreciative gaze as she felt your warm lips against her thighs. “No need to be so shy, child…”

You could practically feel your body flare up with heat, besides the heat emitting from the warm water that engulfed you both. Your hooded eyes stayed locked up on hers with a desperate and needy gaze, feeling yourself getting more turned on as your hands came to rub her outer thighs and up to her ass—fondling with the soft, but firm muscle, earning an appreciative grunt as she flooded your head with praises.

“Such a good girl for me.”

“Just like that, mhm..”

“Such a pretty thing.”

“You’re so gentle. I’m not fragile, love.”

“You’re so good..”

With her words spurring you on, you felt your body buzzing with excitement to finally give her what you both wanted, no—needed. Your eyes peered up at her with a silent plead, earning a soft smile tugging at her lips. “You know what to do…”

She didn’t even have to say anything else before you spreaded her thighs further, lapping away at her folds as the grey patch of hair tickled your noses—not that you minded, of course. The taste of her was utterly savoring and addictive, only wanting to taste more of her sweet nectar as it dribbled down her thighs, your chin and your lips. Your hooded eyes peered up at you and you felt that you might just cum like this.

The way her head was titled back, lips parted with low moans and grunts, breast jerking with her slight movements and the way her hips bucked to your face. You felt her hand tightening up in your high, pulling you closer to her weeping cunt, which you happily lapped away as if you were a starved woman. It felt like such paradise between her thighs, the smell and taste driving you absolutely feral—wanting more of her.

“That’s it…right there..” Her words came out strained and husky, signaling that she was practically on the edge of cumming, but not quite—though your tongue moved expertly through and in her cunt. The grip on her ass tightened as you buried yourself deeper in her thighs, latching into her swollen clit as you sucked messily at the bundle of nerves—feeling her toned thighs start to temblor alongside your head as she tugged your hair.

A mix of a grunt and growl escaped her mouth as her fluttering eyes peered down at your hooded ones, seeing how you were completely drunk for her. Both of her hands grasped your hair tightly, holding you still as she started to grind firmly against the expert tongue and mouth—practically face-fucking you with her pussy, which you felt honor for her to do such. You might just die. Your eyes stayed locked onto hers, seeing the way they struggled to stayed focused on yours before her head finally tipped back—eliciting a groan from her sweet lips.

Your hands roamed up and down her thighs, rubbing over her ass here and there—feeling completely content, even though she was practically suffocating you with the way she squeezed the toned muscles around you. If you died, you’d die happy.

The heavenly grunts and low moans of the older woman bounced off the walls and echoed, causing a beautiful melody that replayed in your head (most likely gonna remember this to fuck yourself to later). It was such a blissful noise and her using like this was just as thrilling—feeling the aching feeling swarm between your thighs. A startled moan was muffled by her cunt as she gave your hair one final pull before she completely came apart.

Her thighs trembled, hips bucked, breast jerking with each heavy breath she took, head tilling back. It was as if you were being gifted by the higher powers—thanking them eternally for this. The grip on her thighs tightened as she completely covered your face with her release—squirting all over your pretty face before you hungrily lapped away at the mess.

She panted heavily as her head slowly looked back down at you, titling her head as she examined your disheveled face—smiling wickedly at the sight. Her hand left your hair to pull you up from your knees, looking at you with a sinful gaze before she licked the essence of her from your chin to your lips—capturing your lips in a heated, hungry kiss, earning a moan from you before she pulled away.

“Such a mess…”

hope you enjoyed dollies <3

[angelic-writer]

"Good. Now where were we..."

The gang continued talking until a knock was heard on Mavis’ door. Turning around, he saw his father standing there.

“Hey, it’s almost 9. Time to shut everything down.”

“Alright, I gotta go. Talk to you guys tomorrow.”

Carter and Tyler both waved goodbye. Gavin, however, started to protest. “Aw, come on! Really? Why can’t we be on call just a little longer?”

“Sorry, Gavin. But those are the rules.” Tyler said, ending their usual argument with hanging up. With the call ending, Mavis, after making sure everything was saved on his computer, proceeded to shut everything down. Laptop, phone - He even checked with his dad to make sure the TV’s unplugged. With that done, the house fell silent. Mavis laid on his bed, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the day he had today.

Just this morning, he was wishing that he would have more than four people to talk to. And just like that, there the Flammia kids were, ready to learn the rules of their new life here. It’s like God has answered his prayers.

“Thank you, God.” He said towards the ceiling. “Thank you for giving me new friends.”

After a while, it was time for bed. Mavis knelt by his bedside for his nighttime prayer.

“Now I lay me down to sleep. The Lord I pray my soul to keep. Watch and guard me through the night, and wake me with your morning light. And if I die before I wake, the Lord I pray my soul to take.”

When the police pulled up to Tim’s house, it was silent. Like nobody had been in there for an eternity. Police Lieutenant Abel Adams got out of the car and walked to the door, his partner and brother, Cain in tow. He couldn’t help but notice that something felt wrong about this place. He knocked on the door. “Hello? Police. We're here on behalf of Ms. Lonnie."

Nothing. Cain glanced at the driveway. “That’s weird... I don’t see any cars.” He said.

"Shit..." Abel banged on the door. “Anyone there? Open up!” When nobody answered, he nodded to the officers on standby, signalling them to go for it. With a bit of work, they forced their way in. Looking around, everything was untouched. A thin layer of dust was coating the kitchen counters and table. One of the officers noticed that the TV was on, displaying static. He felt a bit of annoyance at someone not following the rules, although when he checked, he noticed that it was unplugged.

That’s weird. Why is the TV still on? Is it broken? Did the family not pay their bills on time?

“Merryn? You alright?” His partner asked him.

“Uh, yeah. I’m fine.” He replied, running his hand through his hair to try and smooth the frayed ends. They both stared at the TV, the display of static never ending.

“Do you think we should tell the chief about this?” His partner asked.

“I don’t know. From what it looks like, it seems like the family didn’t pay their bill. But look.” Merryn pointed to the unplugged jack. “If it’s unplugged, why is it still on?”

Abel and Cain have went up the stairs and down the hallway, checking the rooms to make sure Tim is inside. A deep feeling of unsettlement was starting to form in his stomach. He hoped to God that it isn’t what he thought it is. That maybe it was a case of a kid being sick and the parents forgetting to call in. Unfortunately, it seemed like reality was all too happy to kick him in the teeth as Cain called out from the other room. “Hey Abel! You may wanna see this...” The unsettled feeling immediately turned to dread. He couldn’t unhear the slight waver in hie voice. He went into the room his brother was in and he was dismayed at the sight before them.

There he was. Tim Matthews was lying on his bed, bleeding from long, vertical cuts on his arms. From how deep the cuts were and the amount of blood he lost, Abel surmised that he must’ve bled out within a few minutes. His skin had already turned ghost white and his eyes were staring up at the ceiling, unblinking. There was no hope of any medical intervention for him.

He had hoped he hadn't been too late. That by some miracle, he was still alive, but only barely. He would be able to swoop in and save Tim's life. But sadly, life does not work like that. When you die, that's it. You're never coming back from it. You will be nothing more than a lifeless body, leaving behind your family and friends to grieve.

Abel stared at the kid, feeling like the world had stopped around him. What is he gonna tell his parents? What is he gonna tell Ms. Lonnie?

“Abel? You alright?” Cain asked, putting his hand on his shoulder. Abel nodded and, without breaking eye contact from the boy’s empty eyes, spoke into the radio. “Guys, we found him. We got a 10-56.”

Project Mimicry (Vol 1) - Chapter 1

"In the beginning, God created the heaven and the Earth." - Genesis 1:1

1983

"This is a test. This station is conducting a test of the Emergency Broadcasting System. This is only a test."

A long, screeching noise blared from the old TV. The Markson family had a different program on when they announced the test. It was some cowboy show their dad loved so much. For eleven year old Jade, it made her stomach churn. It was an odd sound, different from the sounds of horses and gunfire that came from the living room while they were doing family worship. It made her want to jump into her mother's arms and pray to Jehovah for the noise to stop.

Her mom, dad and brother were silent as the attention signal droned on. After a minute, it stopped.

"This is a test of the emergency broadcasting system. The broadcasters of your area in voluntary cooperation with federal, state and local authorities have developed this system to keep you informed in the event of an emergency. If this had been an actual emergency, the attention signal you have just heard would have been filed by official information, news or instructions. This station serves the northern Alabama area. This concludes this test of the emergency broadcast system."

Jade fiddled with the pages of her book, trying to think of the right words to say. Her brother, Caleb had resumed work on his drawing, seeming to not care about anything. Her mother let out a small sigh. "I swear, can they not scare the kids like that?"

"Mom..." Jade quietly said. "Why do they send out something like this? What if it hadn't been a test? Are... Are we gonna die?"

Opal got up from her chair and pulled her into her arms. "Oh sweetie, we're not gonna die. Everything's gonna be okay. This whole thing will blow over in no time."

"Well Jade," Opal's husband, Simon, chimed in. "They played the test on our TV because they want to inform us on what's happening. The world is at a very turbulent time at the moment so they are doing their best to keep us informed. If we were actually under attack, we would've been hiding in the basement." He let out a small chuckle.

"Well, what can we do to make it better?" Jade asked.

"Pray to Jehovah, of course. Our safety is his priority and if we pray to him, he'll protect us."

Jade smiled and snuggled into her mother. Jehovah is the only thing she knew. She may not be like the other "worldly" kids, but she didn't need all those material goods. She didn't need to see the latest movie or buy the newest toys. As long as she had her family and Jehovah, she can get through anything.

Caleb let out a soft coo.

"Oh, we didn't forget about you!" Simon lifted him out of his baby chair and gently rocked him. The whole family began to giggle.

This was their life. This was their routine. Jade was determined to be a good older sister to Caleb. And soon, he will be baptized.

-------

December 24th, 1983

"This is an important message from the Crestwood police department. This is not a test. I repeat, this is not a test. The Crestwood police department has issued a Shelter-in-place Warning for the county of Crestwood until further notice. Reports of unknown figures have been confirmed by law enforcement and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. For your safety, until 5 PM to 6 AM, stay home, lock all doors and windows and, in the event of a break-in, have access to a loaded weapon at all times. Do not call 911 unless you need to report an emergency. The Crestwood police department and the Department of Babylonian Crusaders thanks you for your cooperation.

Stay tuned for a message from the representative of the Department of Babylonian Crusaders."

"Hello. My name is Dr. Lloyd Evans from the Department of Babylonian Crusaders. We have been receiving reports of unknown organisms that we've decided to call mimics. You may have already gotten the alert from the EBS about this phenomenon, but we're here to tell you about what those mimic types are and what you can do to protect yourself.

The first type are the defensive mimics. They are a sub group of mimics that take on the role of a protector when they find a human. Some pose as aggressive mimics to ward off other humans or they deceive humans they perceive as harmful with their harmless look and kill them. Think of it as a predator camouflaging itself in order for them to eat their prey.

There are three types of defensive mimics. There are Batesian, Mullerian and Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics.

Batesian mimics are harmless. They pose as a harmful mimic to ward off anyone they tries to hurt them or their human.

Mullerian mimics are two or more mimics that advertise themselves as harmful to ward off predators. These mimics often work in groups of two or three.

Emsleyan or Mertensian mimics take the form of a less harmful mimic to deceive the predator and kill them.

These ones can be considered safe, but you should still be wary of them. Aggressive mimics are the ones you need to watch out for. Now, aggressive mimics are the type of mimic that pose as humans to kill them. These types use mind games to toy with their victims. If they haven't committed suicide, the mimic will finish the job.

Predators are a mimic group where they take the form of a loved one, deceive them into thinking they are the real person and then use psychological manipulation. Those are the most dangerous types of mimics and we strongly advise to avoid them at all costs.

Parasites are [REDACTED DUE TO SIGNAL GLITCH]

Now, here's what you can do to keep yourself safe. Stay in your homes after 6 PM, lock all windows and doors and keep a loaded weapon with you at all times. In the event of a mimic attack, follow the S.A.F.E. principle.

S - Secure yourself in a room.

A - Access the situation. Learn how the mimic operates.

F - Fire your weapon. If the mimic attacks, do not hesitate. It can mean life or death.

E - If possible, escape. Do not let them win.

We hope this message keeps you safe. We're very sorry for the interruption and we hope you have a Merry Christmas!"

Though this message was broadcasted to most TVs, some of them reported the S part saying something different. According to reports, it said "Surrender yourself to the Lord."

--------

1987

The young man's back was pressed up against the wall. The shotgun he had in his hands had one shell left. The creature that was at his door kept calling out to him in a mockery of his wife's voice.

"Ralphie... Please let me in... I'm sorry for sca-a-a-aring you back there. You know how I am."

His grip tightened. That wasn't her. That wasn't his wife. She was dead. And now, he was going to die too. His eyes started to fill with tears.

Marla... I'm so sorry... I couldn't protect you... I couldn't save you from these things.

The image of his wife sprawled out on the kitchen floor flashed in his mind. Her neck that was gushing blood... He swallowed, trying to hold back his vomit. They had followed the rules. They had done everything the broadcast said. What did they do wrong? They had to have done something wrong for something like this to happen.

He gritted his teeth. Pondering over this won't help him now. Remember the S.A.F.E. principle, Ralph. Remember.

He secured himself in his bedroom, grabbing his shotgun so he could protect himself. He analyzed the situation. The creature, the mimic, was trying to use his wife's voice to lure him out, using his nickname. Ralphie was what she would call him when he came home from work. The way she said it made his heart soar. However, when it said his nickname, it felt like nails on a chalkboard.

The high school sweethearts had moved into the rural Alabama town after they had gotten married in New York. They thought getting away from the bustling city life would help them. They were in the talks of starting a family when the broadcast came on, talking about reports of mimics.

"Talk about bad timing. On Christmas too." Marla had said while bringing out the cookies and milk. "Let's hope Santa gets there okay."

"I hope so too. But hey, look on the bright side. This lockdown will end at 6 AM tomorrow. We've still got time to celebrate, right?"

"Yeah, I guess you're right. Besides, anything's fun with you." She gave him a light peck on the cheek.

A low sob escaped him. There was so much they wanted to do together. So many things they had planned. Their entire life... They were now gone.

Oh Marla... Why did they have to take you? What did we do?

God, please... Please help me.

He wiped his face. No, crying and pleading to some higher being isn't gonna solve anything. I have to survive. I have to live on for Marla! If I can get out of here, I could alert the police.

With a sense of courage taking over, he pointed his shotgun at the door. The mimic had begun to claw at the door, no doubt leaving scratch marks in the wood. "Ralphie... Please... Let me in. It's so cold. My neck hurts. Help..."

"Shut up... You're not her..."

The doorknob rattled.

"You're not her. You're not her! You're not her!!"

There was a sudden loud banging making him jump. "Ralph, open the goddamn door! You'd really leave me out here with these things?! How could you?!" The thing screeched.

"You're! Not! Her! Leave me alone!! You killed her, you monster!! You're not- You're not her!" He screamed, tears streaming down his face. "Just try and get me! I dare you! I'll fucking shoot you if you try anything!"

"Ralph..." His 'wife' had begun to cry. Normally, it would cause him to go over and hug her, but he will not be swayed. What it was doing, it was disgusting. It's desecrating his wife's memory, his image, his everything. The nerve of the creature...

The door flew open, allowing Ralph to see the monster. Though it was hard to see through the darkness, what he could see made him freeze.

Its form was tall and lanky, its arms and legs stretched out to an almost inhuman degree. What little hair it had on its head was beginning to fall off. Its skin was beginning to sag. Ralph could swear he was beginning to see bones. The mimic looked at him with empty eyes yet it pierced his soul with an intense glare. It opened its mouth to speak, but all that came out were rasps and gargles.

Ralph began to shake, his aim wavering as he stared at... He didn't even know what he was seeing. It was human, but at the same time, it was not. It looked like his wife, but it was like looking at a decomposing carcass. The smell... It smelled like rotten eggs left out on the hot sidewalk. Bile threatened to come up his throat, but he held it in.

One shot. He had to make it count. If it failed...

The creature began to laugh. It was the kind of laugh that made you cringe. It was an ear-piercing, gurgling laugh that was like if you tried to imitate a toy clown on its last legs.

Ralph pressed his finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, he screamed out.

"I will not let you kill me!!"

The gun went off.

--------

2017

The group of kids stared at the small house as their two older brothers talked to the movers. The smallest one of the bunch hugged her teddy bear. Though leaving their home state of Florida didn't seem like a huge deal at first, Catherine still had her doubts. Sure, they were free from all the hurricanes, but they still had friends there. They still had people they could talk to.

But now, she and her brothers moved to a new town. There was no one she knew there. And there was... an abundance of churches. Lots and lots of churches.

@chibisrpblog

[tipsynight0]

For the life we never knew

Parings- Jeff the killer x female reader

Word count - 975

TRIGGER WARNING - Miscarriage, blood, grief, child loss, trauma.

Summary - a quiet night takes a devastating turn.

Authors note - As you can probably tell, I’m not your typical Creepypasta fanfiction writer. My stories lean more toward real-life experiences—raw, messy, and unfiltered. Writing has always been more for me than anything else, a way to process what I can’t always say out loud. Maybe it’s a coping mechanism, maybe it’s just a need to put pain into words.

I know I haven’t updated in a while, and for that, I’m sorry. Life has a way of pulling us under when we least expect it. But for those of you still here, reading and supporting, thank you. It means more than I can express.

I guess I’ve always found comfort in heartbreak—in taking a story and twisting it until it feels real enough to leave a mark. So, as you read this, don’t be afraid to cry, to feel. That’s what it’s meant for. And maybe, when you’re done, we’ll both feel just a little less alone.

Hopefully, I’ll have more for you soon. Until then, take care of yourselves—and try not to cry too much.

Becoming a dad was never on the radar for Jeff. Not for someone like him—a serial killer with bloodstained hands and years of unresolved trauma. Jeff wasn’t the kind of man who would teach his kid how to throw a ball or give them advice on their first crush. Hell, he barely had any idea how to take care of himself. But when Y/N came to him that day, clutching the pregnancy test in trembling hands, terror written all over her face—not the kind of fear he was used to, the kind he relished in—it was different. This fear was raw, uncertain, vulnerable. And for the first time, Jeff felt it too.

The conversation that followed wasn’t pretty. There was shouting, tears, accusations, and a silence so heavy it crushed them both. But somewhere in that mess of emotions, there was a spark—something small and fragile. A seed of hope Jeff never thought he’d feel.

As the days turned into weeks, that seed began to grow. The thought of a child, their child, burrowed its way into Jeff’s cold, damaged heart. He found himself imagining things he never thought possible: a tiny hand gripping his finger, a toothless smile, a giggle that echoed in the halls of the mansion. He didn’t just start to accept it; he started to want it.

The house was alive with a strange excitement. Even the others couldn’t help but marvel at the idea of another child joining them—another innocent soul like Sally. Jack stole prenatal vitamins and a doppler, and Jeff had spent hours with Y/N listening to the faint sound of their baby’s heartbeat. He painted the nursery himself, his hands steady in a way they’d never been before. For once, the chaos of their lives didn’t seem so suffocating.

And then came the night that shattered it all.

Jeff barely stirred when Y/N slipped out of bed. She’d been getting up a lot lately, her small trips to the bathroom almost routine. He was half-asleep when he heard her call out, her voice trembling with something he couldn’t quite place.

“Jeff... come here... something’s wrong.”

The fear in her voice jolted him awake. He stumbled out of bed, heart pounding as he rushed to the bathroom. The sight that met him stopped him cold.

Y/N was sitting on the floor, her hands trembling and slick with blood. It was everywhere—on her thighs, pooling on the tiles, staining her nightshirt. Jeff’s breath hitched, his stomach turning in a way he hadn’t felt since the first time he took a life. Blood was supposed to excite him, but this... this made him want to vomit.

“I’ll... I’ll be back,” he stammered, his voice cracking in a way that felt foreign and wrong. “I’ll get Jack. Don’t move, Y/N. Don’t move.”

He didn’t wait for her reply, didn’t dare look back. He sprinted down the stairs, nearly tripping in his panic. He found Jack in the kitchen, dragging him by the arm before the other man could even ask what was happening. His words tumbled out, frantic and disjointed, but Jack didn’t need an explanation when he saw the scene for himself.

Jack knelt beside Y/N, his usually steady hands trembling ever so slightly as he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Stand up,” he said softly. “I need to see.”

Y/N obeyed, her body shaking as she clung to Jack for support. Jeff stayed rooted to the doorway, his nails digging into the wood as if it could somehow anchor him to reality.

Jack’s expression was grim as he straightened, his voice heavy when he finally spoke. “I’m sorry, Y/N.”

The words hit Jeff like a physical blow. Y/N let out a strangled sob, her knees buckling as Jack caught her and eased her to the floor. Jeff moved without thinking, dropping to his knees beside her and grabbing her hand.

“No,” Jeff muttered, shaking his head. “No, no, no. This—this isn’t happening. Fix it, Jack. Do something.”

Jack looked at him, his hollow eyes filled with something that almost resembled pity. “There’s nothing I can do, Jeff. It’s already happening.”

Y/N’s grip on Jeff’s hand tightened, her face pale and glistening with tears. “Jeff... it’s my fault,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Don’t,” he said sharply, his voice cracking. “Don’t you dare say that. This isn’t your fault.”

She sobbed harder, her free hand clutching her stomach as another wave of pain wracked her body. Jeff could only watch, helpless and furious, as the person he cared about most suffered in a way he couldn’t stop.

Time seemed to crawl, every second dragging like a knife through Jeff’s chest. He wasn’t supposed to care like this. He wasn’t supposed to feel this kind of pain. But as Y/N finally passed the tiny, lifeless form of what could have been their child, Jeff felt something inside him shatter.

He stared at the tiny, fragile thing Jack gently took away, his chest heaving as he fought to keep the scream building inside him at bay. Y/N was limp against him now, her strength spent, her sobs quieted into hollow, hitching breaths.

Jeff pressed his forehead to hers, his hand still gripping hers tightly as though letting go would mean losing her too. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m so sorry.”

In that moment, he hated himself more than he ever thought possible. He wasn’t supposed to care, wasn’t supposed to feel this. But as he held Y/N and felt the life drain from the future they’d dared to hope for, Jeff realized that maybe, just maybe, he’d wanted to be a dad after all.

And now, he never would be.

[brittle-doughie]

Oh boy!!!! TIME FOR A MOLTEN BUTTER COOKIE LORW DUMP!!1!!!

It’s not that Molten Butter Cookie doesn’t abuse their soul jam (it kinda depends on Y/N Cookie’s actions.) They do in a way where it’s SUPER subtle. In their hypothetical event, I like imagine that their soul jam actively HELPS Y/N Cookie for a long while. Slowly coaxing them into falling into the hands of false affection. As soon as Y/N Cookie starts depending on their voice is when things take a turn. Slow insulting whispers replace the one helpful advices. It’s often where Molten Butter Cookie would switch from sweet whispers to sayings such as “You should know this, you’re fully capable, are you that pathetic?” Though it’s hard to tell when this switch occurs, it started off from sprinkling in some shaming, slowly turning into flow blown blunt insults.

They continue switching between giving out advice and shaming them. By the time that voice is radio silent, it far too late. They’re already awake.

I SUCK AT WRITING I’M SORRY, but this is my view on Molten Butter! :3

Low Tier Molten Butter, cruelty knows no bounds.

[emotionalhottiee]

Whole Again ❤️

Jimmy Uso/ Jonathan Fatu

This is the conclusion to Broken

DISCLAIMER: This is a work of fiction. Unless otherwise stated, all the names, characters, businesses, places, events in this fanfic are either the product of the author's imagination or used in a fictitious manner.

Warning: 18+ (This content may include explicit material).

Before i knew it we were back at Jon’s condo. And ever since we stepped out of his car, we have been inseparable. Our lips only coming apart to press elevator buttons and open doors. I know that this sounds crazy… But i feel whole again now that we are together. He was made for me.

We reached his door FINALLY. Our lips came undone to allow Jon to unlock his door. He seemed as if he was a bit nervous the way he was fumbling with his keys. It was honestly so cute to watch.

As he held the door open, i walked over towards his leather couch. As much as i missed him, there needed to be a conversation.

Jon was standing by his front door messing with something before he made his way over to the couch. Walking right in front of me, he bent down so he was literally hovering over me. He leaned forward to kiss me again, but i put my hand up abruptly stopping his lips from touching mine. A confused look arose of his face as he moved over to the right of me sitting on the couch, but turning his body so that he was facing me. “We need to have a conversation about the infidelity before we can just move on as if nothing happened.” I stated calmly. Trying my best to get through what was going to be an emotional talk.

You can do this.

“I hadn’t imagined being able to forgive you. Because watching you fuck someone else, in the same bed you fuck me. That killed me inside Jon”. I murmured avoiding eye contact. “And then where’d you go? Chasing a new piece of ass, instead of calling me”. “Your future wife” i threw my hands up doing a very aggressive air quote. Because that is what he always called me. “You cheated and then you moved on as if i meant nothing to you.”

I came undone. As much as i tried to hold back the tears, but they couldn’t be contained any longer as they were steadily falling down my face.

No longer being able to avoid eye contact Jon placed his fingers gently under my chin, lifting my head up until i our eyes met for the umpteenth time tonight. “What happened with that girl meant nothing to me”. My heart was pounding out of my chest. “I made a mistake that i have regretted ever since” he stated his eyes looked past all of my tears, deep into my soul. Sending a wave of chills down my spine.

It is insane how this man, can make me want to apologize to him for the things he did wrong.

I hate to admit that he had the kind of power over me. But he simply did. And then came those words that i had longed to genuinely hear for 5 agonizing days. “I’m Sorry”. He stated his voice deep, but soft for me. He kept lookin into my eyes, pleading to me without saying another word. Crazy how two little words can mean so much. Causing you to forgive even the most hurtful things imaginable. With a simple apology. The pain and hurt and betrayal i had been feeling for the last 5 days, slowly started to vanish.

God i hate how much i love this man.

But he is my true weakness. How can i stay angry at the person, who brings me so much happiness? Why would i? Life is all about forgiveness right? Aren’t you supposed to forgive those who hurt you?

Throughout my internal conflict Jon never took his brown eyes off of me. I saw all the sincerity i needed to see in those eyes. He reached his finger up to my eyes wiping the last of my tears. Before returning his gaze to mine. “I never meant to hurt you Kenzi. I promise it was a terrible mistake that will never happen again”. He said lovingly while he pressed his forehead against mine.

Bringing my hand up to his beard in awe of those facial features that adorned his face. “I forgive you Jonathan” i said calmly again, because i genuinely did. Nobody will understand why it is so easy for me to forgive this man. And it’s simply because i need this man perhaps more than i need my own supply of oxygen. As unhealthy as that sounds my obsession with him is truly that deep.

We exchanged a few more passionate kisses. Whispering sweet nothings to each other in between. As Jon got off the couch first. His towering 6’3 frame bending down in front of me once again. But this time he was scooping me up into his arms as if it were nothing. Our faces coming back together as he carried me into his bedroom, with my legs wrapped around his waist.

I noticed the brand new bed set on his king sized bed. And a small smile crept up on my face. “Im glad he changed the sheets”, i thought to myself relived that he didn’t have those same sheets from his past transgressions.

He laid me down on the king sized bed and he placed a trail of kisses from my cheeks down to my neck. “I love you so much, little mama” he whispered into my neck know that would send me into a frenzy. “I love you too baby” i whimpered back softly. I wrapped my arms around his neck as he took his large hand gliding it down my body, until he came in contact with my the silver button of my boyfriend jeans.

Sitting up on his knees, he freed up his other hand to slide my jeans down to my ankles, before tugging them off of my body completely. He did the same with my crop top shirt freeing my bra-less boobs from them. I sat myself up on my elbows to watch him. As he stared at my almost naked body, biting down on his bottom lip allowing me to only see the top row of his pearly white teeth. Rubbing his hand over my Fenty boy shorts he smirked feeling the wetness he had cause through my panties. “You missed Daddy didn’t you?” He asked his smirk never leaving his face. All i could do was nod my head, as he inserted his middle finger into my center. I let out a whimpering moan. As he knelt down only nesting his face in my neck to slowly pick up the pace. “FUCK” i let out as my hands tried holding on to the sheets. He placed kisses on my neck knowing his was going to insert another finger. I squeezed my self ever so tightly feeling the added finger. He kept a steady pace as he bought his face up to mine. Telling me he loved me before placing a kiss on my lips.

He knows what he’s doing to me.

I let out a barrage of my moans, as i came on his fingers. He just looked at me grinning from ear to ear. As he pulled out his fingers now covered in my juices. He stood up from the bed, stripping himself of his clothes until he was left in only his boxers. He came back down to me kissing me as he slowly pushed my body flat onto the bed. Planting a trail of kisses as he made his way down to my thighs.

He was unusually quiet, which to me was a sign he was focused. He finally removed my panties after what felt like an eternity. Coming face to face with the pussy that belonged to him. He kissed me on the insides of each thigh before he kissed my vagina. My hands found their way to his hair that was brushed into a bun. Taking out the rubber band that kept it together, so that i could run my fingers through his beautiful curls.

He made out passionately with my vagina, moving back and forth between my opening and clit never missing a beat. At this point my hands embedded in his curly hair pushing his face into my glistening pearl, as i did that Jon took it as a sign to insert his tongue into me. Bringing one hand up message my clit while sliding his tongue in and out of me. feeling me near the edge. He removed his finger from my clit, going back to using only his mouth. He moaned into my pussy instructing for me to cum for his and i gladly obliged.

Making sure to clean me up, with his with tongue, he bought his face back to mine. Kissing me passionately with what was left of my juices that remained on his lips. He slowly rose back to his knees, then off of the bed to his feet to remove his final article of clothing, his boxers. Freeing that big beautiful brown dick of his that was swinging back and forth.

He climbed back in bed, coming down to me, until i felt his entire frame over me. Kissing me once more. All this passion he was giving me had made my knees weaken. He looked me in my eyes in between kisses as he inserted his fully erect penis into me. Both of us letting out of moan of pleasure. Him from feeling my warmth tighten around him. And mine from feeling the dick that i was in love with, enter me again after what felt like forever. I bought my legs up to wrap around his waist as my arms wrapped around his neck. As he feed my pussy stroke after stroke. I dug my nails into his skin as he move one arm to separate my leg slightly allowing him to dig his deepest so that his dick could kiss my cervix.

Trying not to make him bleed from my scratching i opted to move my hand back to his luscious curls, that were now all over the place. While my hands were roaming through his hair he placed his forehead against mine. Signaling to me that he was inching closer to a finish. As was i. He whispered another sweet apology followed by him confessing his love for me again.

Locking our eyes together again. Was enough for me to release all over his member as he groaned against my lips. Waiting for me to ride the last wave of my orgasm. He released his load inside of me mixing all of our juices together inside of me. While getting out his final strokes. He laid on top of me trying to catch his breath. I slightly turned my head towards his as i ran my fingers across his soft back.

He planted a soft kiss on my lips as he rolled off me. I took this as an opportunity to go to the bathroom and get myself together. Before finding one of Jon’s large tshirts to put over my naked body. Laying back in bed, he pulled me to him so that we were skin to skin leaving absolutely no room in between us. He softly let out one last “I love you little mama”, before shutting his eyes. I stared at him while caressing his face. Simply responding with an “I love you too Jonathan”. He smiled eyes still shut as we held each other before drifting off to sleep.

This is where i belonged.

[gh7stly]

EPILOGUE — poly 141 x immortal gn!reader

<not proofread or anything, been sitting in my draft for the longest time! i hope someone'll enjoy>

The blood that painted your body itches, you noticed. It irked you, really, so the idea of spending one more hour on the same clothes you had on when you left for this mission was a torture by itself. As the helicopter shook one last time while landing, you immediately started making your way to the community bathroom, ignoring every greetings of other soldiers, previous mission partners and privates in the way. Muppets. 

“I thought the military taught basic etiquette, soldier. Been looking forward to making it home?” A voice not so strange called after you, slowly turning around as if scared to scare it away, Kate Laswell enters your vision. “Happy?”

You make a false discontent face. “Last time I saw your face I had 7 less lives in my hand, happiness is not the right feeling…. More like a bad omen?”

“I’m glad You're here and alive, then. You even taken a bath yet? There's subjects to be taken care of and I need you available as soon as possible, and, yes, I'm making the proposal again”, you take notice of how she avoided the responsibility and somehow proved your “bad omen” point, Kate's proposal didn't mean good things to come. “This is not the place to talk about it, Spook, but it is the right time. We need y-”

You bark out a laugh. “Fuck no, Laswell”, patting her on the shoulder, you turn around and start walking. “Coronel is not agreeing, plus, I have no interest in your suicide inhibitions against the US. Give up!”

“Spook. The time is running out. You know why you'd be the most important thin-”

“Thing?” 

Laswell makes a disapproving sound from getting interrupted again. Aware of the sudden seriousness of the moment, she grabs your arm to go further into the corridor away from the crowds and recruits.

“You are not a 14 year old girl, Spook. You are a soldier, a soldier responding to one of the biggest special forces in the world, and you have the ability of doing what I could only wish to do”, she stopped walking abruptly and stared down into your soul, this discussion is your least favorite one to have. “You can fuck up. Has this not internalized into you yet? Dead boys are sent to their mamas everyday for a tiny mistake but you have the ability of throwing it all into the air and walking away unharmed, so why not use who you are for the better cause? We need you”

Her words punctuated your gut, your frustrations boiled up deep in your stomach and revealed itself by the shaking in your hands; they've gotten worse recently, you've come to notice. There wasn't much to do about it except put them into fists and dig your nails deep into the palm of your hand until it made you grounded enough to find your voice, stuck in the back of your throat. This subject, this proposal and its implications had enough force to make you crumble easily, Laswell of course knew nothing about it – just that you were stubborn and kept refusing. 

“I am here because you asked me to make you useful, because you wanted to help. I know you're a human, Spook, but you're in the military and not a playground. What you want is not what you're getting sometimes, not because you don't matter, but because you are a useful trick we could have up our sleeve. So I'm going to ask you again, are you going to fucking help or not?

Staying in silence, you bit your tongue to stop from getting an insubordination letter. Part of you, the human part you guessed, felt talked down still. Did you ask for this life? Who made you this way? Wanting to help didn't mean killing yourself on purpose on missions, didn't mean getting used by superiors like an unbreakable toy. You're here because you wanted to be a hero, but right now, you're afraid of having more blood on yourself than the villains.

The other part, the freak one as you called, knew that that's exactly what you were. A puppet. From the moment you joined the military, it was better to devoid yourself from feelings, needs, or any basic thought. You liked it, even. Getting pushed to the limits of morality, treated like a piece of a big chess match. A cold air passed through you both until you finally had swallowed enough ego to speak.

“Let me at least change clothes and then you can go through your little plan." That was the closest thing to a yes you could've gotten before puking bile, but it was enough for her.

“Thank you, Spook. 1700 sharp” nodding, you let out a sigh you weren't aware of holding.

“You're a bad omen, Laswell. After today, I hope it'll be a long time until we meet again.” Even with the harsh words, a project of a smile showed in your face. Kate Laswell was probably the closest thing to a mom you'll ever have in your life. “I agree.”

[plague-of-insomnia]

WIP Wednesday: Sebardagni 1920s AU: Snippet - Bard meets Ruby

I'm back on my business hoping 2025 is finally the year I get to fill your lives with tons of kuro rarepair AU content!

Here's another scene from my 1920s sebardagni AU that has been floating around in my mind for months and that I was finally able to write the other day.

It's the first of two scenes in which Bard meets Sebastian, aka "Ruby," for the first time, and he's immediately smitten--even after he realizes "Ruby" is a man.

About this AU:

Sebardagni, multichapter, 1920s AU, Human Sebastian, Disabled Sebastian

Set in the US during the 1920s when Prohibition of alcohol was at its peak. Sebastian has a mysterious past that becomes central to the story as it unfolds, but when it begins works out of his apartment as a music tutor and at night performs at Undertaker's speakeasy. That's where he meets Bard, who was left aimless after the end of WWI, and now works as a bouncer for Undertaker in his club. Agni (who isn't in this snippet) is a doctor and who was living with Sebastian when Bard and he met.

*the image above is a preview of a comic by @luci-on-the-moon that will be revealed later

Enjoy, and if this is an AU you're interested in, let me know!

~#~

A hush fell over the entire club as all attention fixed on the piano, which played a simple, tinkling melody that seemed to float through the air like a mist. In the center of it all, spotlight illuminating, was Ruby, dress and jewels the color of her namesake glittering in the light. She was even more beautiful than Bard had imagined she’d be based on everything he’d heard. Her long, luxurious black hair draped over her shoulders, not chopped short like was the fashion, and Bard wondered if, despite the fact she was singing in an underground club run by a shady character like Undertaker, she might be a traditional, classy girl. Her lips were full and lashes long, with skin like fresh cream that Bard longed to touch. But then the piano swelled and she began to sing, and suddenly the entire world around Bard faded away into the soulful sound that cradled him like a warm embrace after years at war. “What’ll I do? When you are far away and I am blue.“ Bard’s mouth went dry as he listened, ash falling from his cigarette as he remained enraptured, as if Ruby were a siren mesmerizing him with her song. The melody was simple, letting the richness of her singing shine through. Bard could feel the emotion she was pouring into every word as she sang sadly of the lover she would never see again. The music crescendoed as Ruby leaned back on the piano, her long legs peaking from the slit in her unfashionably long dress. Though it fit her like God himself had made it for her, so Bard wasn’t about to complain. She wasn’t curvy, but she had a magnetism that made her beauty radiate. “What’ll I do with just a photograph—” She dropped her gaze, those captivating long lashes brushing her cheeks, and when she lifted it again, Bard could have sworn she was looking straight at him. “—to tell my troubles to?” Ruby smiled, amused, but only for a fleeting moment as she continued the song, heartbreak hovering in every note, “When I’m alone, with all the dreams of you that won’t come true. . .” Ruby paused, and so did the music, to let the audience hang on every single second, waiting for her to finish. She stared down at her legs, her voice shifting so that Bard would have sworn she were on the brink of tears. “What’ll I do?” The final chord played and the speakeasy erupted into whistling and clapping, most of the crowd jumping to their feet. But all Bard’s attention was still fixed on Ruby, her red dress glittering as she shifted, blowing kisses to the crowd and winking occasionally before the spotlight slid to the left and the MC began introducing the next performance. As much as he wanted to keep his gaze fixed on her until the last moment, when she disappeared backstage, a fight broke out to Bard’s right. which meant he had a job to do. But after his shift ended, he was gonna pay Ruby a visit.

[ratatouillewastakendammit]

A Human's Touch

Bill Cipher/Reader

Word Count: 3k

“A deal?”

The word felt sour in your mouth, coating your tongue in uneasiness and sliding down your throat to turn your stomach into a grumbling ball of nerves.

Bill nodded with a grin. “Deal, bargain, arrangement, whatever you want to call it! All that matters is that I’m offering you a first class ticket into my very own glorious abundance of knowledge.”

“In exchange for…” You continued, a question encompassing the end of your statement.

Breath lodged in your throat, you waited, the silence barely loud enough to conceal the soft thump of your beating heart.

“You.”

That sure as hell wasn't what you were expecting.

“Excuse me?”

“Just the mind and body. You can keep your soul, I don’t need that silly old thing," He chuckled. “Story short is, I've got a chore that needs handling and I need a physical flesh packet to do it. So, whaddaya say?”

With that tone, one would have thought he had just asked a neighbor for a stick of butter. The absolute ludicrousness of the situation had you scoff. “Absolutely not.”

Clicking his tongue in disappointment, Bill slowly reverted back into his original form, human stature shifting and condensing into that golden triangle. “We’ll see.”

You raised an eyebrow. “What’s that supposed to mea-”

“But I’ll offer you a compromise. And believe me when I say I don’t offer those to just anybody.” It occurred to you that you had just now realized how his form glowed whenever he talked, each syllable pulsing with spectral luminescence. “I’ll stick around and you can study me. And keep that pretty little meat-suit as a bonus.”

“Why would I… I’m a psychology major, not a cryptozoologist student. Or whatever you would be classified under,” you muttered.

“You’re trying to master the mind, doc. And I guarantee you, there’s no mind as interesting as this one! I’m an enigma, a mystery; and I know that’s something you brainiac types just can’t resist!” His eye began to showcase a myriad of different landmarks and time periods, ranging from the Black Plague to Ancient Rome’s gladiatorial fights. Whether or not he had actually seen or experienced any of them, you weren’t sure. “All I need you to do is find something for me.”

“And what would that be?”

With a snap, a short stack of papers fell into your arms. “Just a silly old landmark, really. That’s where I’m trying to go, but I’ll find my puppet in the meantime.”

Every sheet was marked with numerous pictures of what looked like ancient architecture, each matched with a corresponding set of coordinates. Save for the one at the bottom, the structure appearing to be a crude drawing next to a row of question marks.

A puzzle.

“Want a trial run?”

You glanced up at him in question.

“Give me ten seconds inside that head of yours to show you what you’re missing out on. I promise you won’t regret it.”

Curiosity tugged at your chest, the sting strong enough to overshadow the warning bells going off in your brain. “Ten seconds.”

“Cross my heart.” He held up a hand, fingers wrapping around one another to bind the promise between voice and flesh.

Every fiber of your being was begging you to back away from the cliff side, mental voices pleading for a retreat to where it was safe; predictable.

They clamored with one another, a chorus that had been overwhelmed with singers, each vying for your attention to create a symphony of disorder. Their call jerked at your sense of logic, slowly drawing your feet further and further away from the overhang.

Then you jumped.

“Okay.”

The word had barely left your lips before you began regretting it, but the complete and utter feeling of turbulence over washing your perception left no time for remorse. It was like your consciousness had been yanked back through eyes that you couldn't open, the mortal realm as you knew it shadowed in a blanket of pure ebony.

But then, in a single beat, everything changed.

You were falling.

No.

That definitely isn't it.

Warmth prickled at your limbs, now buoyant and hovering weightlessly, like your entire body had been submerged into a pool of water. Liquid air embraced you, floating under your clothes and gently tugging the fabric upward. Loose strands of your hair did the same, the levity tender and benign enough to leave no pain. The peacefulness swimming throughout your form was enough to distract you from the complete lack of somatic bodily sensations, whether it be the fading ache on your thumb from the hangnail that had been picked off yesterday or the beat of your heart.

The woven veil of darkness was lifted from over you, senses freed from its blinding threads and allowing you to look around.

A silken sky encased you from every angle, shades of purples and blues colliding with the black. They welcomed one another happily, hues binding together to form a tapestry of radiance. Clusters of stars, each blooming with its own spectral iridescence, were splattered across the galaxy.

You reached out, tiny celestial bodies caressing your outstretched fingers and tickling at the skin. One drifted closer, quiet glow reflecting on the palm of your hand.

Up close, you noticed that it wasn't just light, but an image was molded in its bright center.

A cabin in the woods, both covered in snow like powdered sugar, flickered within the orb. Firelight could be seen from inside, warm reds and oranges colliding with the stark white flakes still falling around the scene.

The lodge, although you couldn't see, would have been scented like hot chocolate and had a brightly lit Christmas tree in the middle of the living room.

Small waves of memories washed over you as the minuscule sun slowly started to hover away. You could have sworn that you heard laughter, a little girl's, as it escaped from your hold, joining its clustered constellation of a family.

You reached out once more, fingertips gracing another star as you were submerged in the sound singing and the smelled of birthday cake.

Then you blinked.

And it was gone.

"So, whaddya think? Pretty neat, huh?" You jumped at Bill's voice, eyes readjusting to the harsh lighting of your dorm room. The muted thump had returned to your chest, organ beating rapidly from the sudden change.

"What was that?"

"I like to call it the Mindscape." He pressed a small, black finger against your temple. “A metaphysical representation of your mind.

Your bed frame rocked as you flopped down in shock. "And you can just do that whenever you want? With whoever you want?"

"And so much more than that."

"It's..." You raised an arm above your head, imagining those twinkling lights swirling through your fingers once more. "It's incredible."

"So, does that sway you or what?"

You sat up, quiet unease weighing in your chest. "Why me? We both know that there's a lot of people out there who would've taken that deal. So, why stick around?"

Bill raised both of his arms, the closest he might ever get to a shrug in the form lacking shoulders. "Why not? You were the one who shook my hand, so you’re basically stuck with me until I find someone else interesting enough to use. Besides, I enjoy imparting some wisdom to you mortals every few millennia or so."

The response wasn't genuine, at least, not completely, of that you were almost positive. There was the idea of something more that was underlying the pleasant message and honeyed promises, something that you would become trapped in, unable to dig your way out once you actually knew you were being buried alive.

But you had already jumped.

What's the harm in just letting yourself fall a little longer?

"Hand me the papers."

⭒⋆△⋆⭒

It had been two days since you had found Bill.

Two days since you had agreed to aid in his search.

And exactly forty-six hours since you had realized how utterly annoying he could become.

He was like a power hungry toddler, whizzing around your room and rifling through every drawer, shelf, and cubby in interest. He followed you around almost everywhere, whether it be to the nearby vending machine or your school’s computer lounge.

And that definitely wasn't the worst of it.

"Can you... can you maybe leave? Or at least, like, turn around." you had asked yesterday, a set of pajamas hanging over your arm as you attempted to change.

"You really think I can't see under there?" He cackled as a harsh warmth spread over your cheeks. "If you really wanted, I can look all the way down to your nervous system. Pretty cool trick if I do say so myself.”

"Perv."

“Ha! You wish, toots.”

There were random blocks of time, those you cherished near and dear to your heart, where he would randomly just disappear, popping out of existence to somewhere you honestly did not care to know about.

Such as the afternoon the day before, when you had been left to mercifully sleep passed the ‘pm’ to your heart's desire.

This morning, however, you had been plucked from the beautiful darkness with that vexingly flat tone.

“You’re a pretty mumbly sleeper. Get nightmares or something?”

Jumping up with a yelp, your body had slipped from those bewitching silk sheets, plummeting to the floor with a groan.

You had never been more thankful for opting to stay in your dorm over break, the interaction with any other sentient being besides the therapy cat kept in the campus library probably would have sent you straight over the edge.

Still, his presence was the slightest bit comforting, if you harnessed every bit of patience in your being. Especially since you had the more-than-slight inkling that it wasn't exactly his personality, but the enjoyment of tormenting you that brought upon the constant irritant.

If you just ignored him, he would calm down.

And surprisingly, he did.

But not by much.

"I'm just saying, if you're having bad dreams, I could fix that up real quick." Bill flew over to your desk side, papers strewn across the wood grain. "Are you even listen-"

"Done."

"You're finished." The response was less an assured statement than it was a question waiting to be affirmed.

"Yep. The other nine structures make an almost perfect pentagram, so the tenth should be right..." you tapped a finger against the map, brightly highlighted 'x' filling in the gap. "here."

One giant eye blinked back at you, watching as you tossed the notes aside and pushed your chair back.

"Where are you going?"

"To bed." If it wasn't two in the morning, you might have worded the retort more politely, but among the tiny grains of energy left in you, there was hardly enough to care. Still, you offered a small smile of remorse as you slid under the covers, blue light illuminating your dorm room.

Fingers gliding across your keyboard, your eyes flit from cover to cover, accessing your options before confirming your choice with a click. Bill watched you work, silently hovering to your side as you grabbed a pillow to prop your laptop up with. The soft periwinkle coating your features abruptly turned to black before slowly fading to a deep red, title screen showcasing the Paris catacombs loading in.

You picked up your recently formed companion from the corner of your vision. "It's a horror movie. You actually might like it, being, ya know... Which sounds a lot more offensive when I say it out loud."

He didn’t seem to mind or even notice as he floated next to you, oversized sclera and snakelike pupil reflecting the events playing out on the monitor. As the minutes ticked by, he levitated inches closer, finding residence on your left shoulder. At first, you thought of swatting him away, but ultimately paid no attention as the creature settled in next to your collarbone, stamina properly depleted from a day of nonstop work.

It was fascinating to watch, or to listen might be a more accurate term, how Bill reacted to the film, chaotic cackle ringing out anytime a character was injured or met their untimely end. You noted how he particularly enjoyed when suffering, specifically that of which was emotionally traumatic, was involved, such as when one of the individuals got sucked into a burning car and ended up buried alive within the span of two minutes.

It was spine tingling, sure, but interesting to view nonetheless, especially coming from someone who had been oddly engaged in serial killer cases from age fourteen. You found yourself silently analyzing every snarky comment, chuckle, or declaration about how he could have done better rather than actually paying attention.

According to him, falling down a well and breaking your neck was ‘boring’ and getting beaten with a rock to death was ‘uninspired.’ Both statements were extremely concerning, but clearly not alarming enough to keep your eyes open for long. Mental fatigue plagued your mind, infesting your questions with a soothing fog until sleep finally claimed you.

Your spector was gone by morning.

Sunlight streamed through your blinds, bright gleam marking your room with its fractured motif. You slipped from the comforting warmth of your sheets with a yawn, rolling your neck around and ushering away those tiny pops from hours of unuse. Despite the moderate sluggishness weighing down your limbs, you were quite surprised at how good you felt.

Nightmares had always been fairly regular for you, whether it be something as mildly mundane as being late to class or as distressing as being chased by an axe wielding maniac. 

Like it or not, Bill had been right; you were a stressful sleeper.

Over the years, you had slowly habituated to the dreams, not allowing those ghosts of visions to haunt you too much through waking hours. Regardless, it was hard to shake the ickiness brought upon by those particularly stirring visions, especially when the rest of the world was dead, that dreadfully lonely feeling only empowered by the darkness and silence surrounding you. Every once in a while, you would jolt awake, sweat coating the edge of your brow as you willed your heart to slow, forcing uplifting scenarios into the forefront of your train of thought.

Even when it wasn't a nightmare, there was almost always something. Maybe a sporadically flash of colored light or recollection of something weeks ago. In fact, a dreamless evening almost always meant a lack of sleep.

However, this seemed to be the complete opposite. 

But you definitely weren’t complaining. 

Rifling through the minifridge beside your bed, you flipped through various breakfast options, determined to start a morning off on the right foot for once. You had just settled on a plastic box of leftovers as a sharp snap sounded right next to your ear, causing you to jump and smack your head on the microwave above. 

A string of curses shot out as you waited for the throbbing to subside. You caught a glance at your triangular shaped companion, who seemed less than apologetic at the frightening entrance as he made himself at home on your bed. The suspicions were deemed correct as he shifted into a human seconds later, if the haughty grin gracing his features was any indication.

“I thought you left,” you sighed.

“Can’t get rid of me that easy,” he replied, watching while you worked to heat up your food. “I was just checking in with some friends nearby.”

‘You’re basically stuck with me until I find someone else interesting enough to use’

Well, dammit.

“I guess we can get started then.” Moving to take a seat by your desk, you noticed the slight twinge of surprise tugging at his brow. “You said you’d let me study you. I don’t have anything to do for the next two weeks anyhow.”

“Ask away. I’m an open book.”

I doubt that

“So, what were you doing again?”

Your new patient rolled his eyes, clearly annoyed at having to repeat himself. “Visiting old friends, just to let them know of my fabulous return to society.”

Very vague; great

“Were they human?”

“Ha! As if I would ever consider one of you pea-brained meat sacks a friend! Besides, you guys die way too quickly to make a difference anyway. Do you know how many puppets I’ve had to replace because they keep kicking the bucket?”

“Oh… I’m sorry about that.”

Incredulousness soaking his tone, he scoffed. “I don’t need your sympathy. Those geezers were basically getting ready for the grave by the time they were in a cradle.”

Honestly, the statement made sense. If you really thought about it, people had begun the slow process of expiration the moment they had their first breath. Still, the way Bill phrased it gave you the idea that he thought about his own mortality, or immortality, as completely different from someone of your own species.

“So, uh, how old are you then?”

“Older than you could count, doc,” he replied, getting comfortable with his arms propped behind his head.

“And how does that make you feel?” You pried. “Knowing that most of the allies you make will die before you even really notice they’re there.”

He cracked open what you believed to be his good eye, though you weren’t exactly sure whether or not he could see out of the black one. “Perfect, obviously. I couldn’t care for you guys if I even tried. Let’s move on to the less stupid questions.”

You frowned. “Fine. Is your name actually Bill? I mean, no offense, but it seems just a tad bit anticlimactic for a supernatural entity like you.”

“Nope. But you wouldn’t be able to pronounce the real one.”

“Where were you born? Did you have a family or-”

“Oh, come on. I thought this was going to be interesting.” He jumped up, moving over to where you were sitting and motioning to the laptop still on your bed. “Let’s get down and dirty, into the fun stuff.”

A patience-capturing breath raddled through your lungs. You slipped around him to grab the computer, trying to ignore the way your pulse sped up in nervousness at the close proximity. “Alright. What would you like to talk about then?”

Excitement flashed in his eyes. “Let me show you.”

[bullet-prooflove]

3 random words with Brock Reynolds? How about time, evaluation and behaviour ?

Tagging: @kmc1989 @hufflepuffgirl @fanny-123456 @caffeinatedwoman @alexlynn16

Companion piece to:

Buried Socks: Ceberus has a unique way of showing how much he misses you.

Hammer: You realise you can't give Brock what he wants.

Duty Calls - You and Brock discuss starting a family in between tours.

Ask Me Again - A bad day leads Brock to ask a surprise question.

You fail your psych eval.

You tell the mental health officer about the dark thoughts you’ve been having, the nights you close your eyes and you see the faces of your targets right before their heads explode, a symptom of your bullet.

They should sign you off on leave, restrict you to a desk but they don’t instead they deploy you, rubber stamping the documentation with a pass because your country needs you, it always needs you and that’s the problem, the constant unrelenting barrage of obligation.

“You need to sleep.” Brock says the evening before the deployment, his lips brushing over your temple. “You’ve barely been to bed these last couple of nights.”

You’re sitting at the kitchen table, your sniper rifle laid out in front of you as you clean each individual piece with a thoroughness that borders on pathological behaviour.

“I don’t like what I see.” You say quietly, your eyebrows furrowed as you focus on oiling the barrel of the weapon. “When I close my eyes.”

He slips down into the seat across from you, his expression one of concern as he studies you.

“How long has that been going on?” He asks you and you set the barrel down before you pick up the stock.

“Weeks, maybe months.” You say despond. “I told them at my last eval, the solution’s the same as it always is, deployment.”

It’s happened before then. Brock understands in that moment, what you are to the Army. A tool to be used, one that fractures with every single task until it breaks, shattering into a thousand tiny pieces.

“You can’t go.” He tells you, his voice a harsh whisper. “Flo, you can’t make that deployment tomorrow, not if your head’s not in it. You’ll get yourself killed…”

“It’s part of the job isn’t it?” You say as you start to reassemble the weapon. “You know that as well as anyone.”

Every click is a harsh echo that vibrates through the room, another precursor to the hit he knows that’s coming if he lets you leave tomorrow morning.

“Flo, I can’t let you go.” He says, his hands coming to rest on yours stilling your movements, forcing the rifle back down onto the table. “You know that don’t you?”

You look at him then and there’s nothing in those eyes of yours, just a deep, fathomless darkness that seeps into the very depths of his soul. That’s how he knows the choice he’s about to make, it’s the right one, the one that’s going to save your life.

“If you have me committed, my career is done. They’ll never let me pick up a rifle again.” You tell him and Brock searches your gaze looking for any flicker of emotion at the thought.

“Is that what you want?” He asks you as you release your grasp on the weapon, setting it down for the last time. “For all of this to be over?”

“Yes.” You say. “I think I’m done.”

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[5starssz]

All For Me

Paige Bueckers x fem reader

Your two year relationship with collegiante basketball star Paige Bueckers ends suddenly in both of your senior year. You couldn’t seem to detach yourself from her even though Paige had seemed to move on. Once you graduated and Paige was doing her 5th year, Paige finally realizes what she lost.

All For Me- Mariah The Scientist

!Warnings! Angst and fluff

Purple=Paige

Pink=You

Not proofread sorry!!!!!!

All For Me- Part Two

The showing for the house went well, you had 5 offers put on the house but one thing trailed on in your mind all day. Running into Paige was not on your schedule for the day and threw you off completely. Your mind all day was half work and half Paige. Her words lingering in your ears, her touch still grasping onto your arm, the glimmer in her eyes when she looked at you, it all stayed with you.

You currently were sitting on your bed, thumb hovering over the call button under Paige’s contact info. Yes, the fact that she left you for another did hurt you, and makes you want to hate her, but you can’t. What exactly did she want to talk about? was the question leading you to actually calling her. ‘It’s 10 she should be out of practice and at the dorm’, you thought, thinking back to the nights you would spend waiting for Paige to come home to you. Her sweaty hugs, catching up on each others day while she admired you, falling asleep in her big arms. Those thoughts brought you to finally press the button.

1 ring

2 rings

3 rings

“Hey”, her voice deep and soft.

“Hi, you said you wanted to talk?”, you said quiet and timid, not knowing what the conversation had in store for you.

“Can I come over? Kinda wanted to do this face to face”. Her tone became stern, like she knows what she wants and she’s going to make it happen. Her request caught you off guard leaving a a few moments over the phone.

“oh uh yeah that’s fine. i’ll send you my adr-“.

“I know where i’m going. I’ll see you in 15 minutes”.

The phone hung up before you could even respond with an ‘ok’ or ‘ok see you soon’.

“Well damn”, you said out loud while getting up from your bed. You had a pair of short sweat shorts and a t shirt on, no need to change. You walked over to your light grey couch and waited for the blondes arrival. You were nervous as hell, your ex that you never got over and still love is about to walk into your apartment after a year apart.

Fifteen flew by and 2 knocks at the door broke you out your thoughts. You got up from your comfortable spot to answer the door for Paige. You reached for the knob with a little hesitation and opened to the door. She stood at the door standing tall over you. Two hands in her grey sweatpants. Her hair fell to her shoulders framing her face perfectly. She started scanning you from head to toe, until her eyes met with yours. She slightly tilted her head and smiled.

“come in”, you said moving to the side to let her walk in. When she walked in she slowly stepped in front of you inching closer. Your breathing quickened with every inch she crept towards you. Eventually you two were so close, your head tilted up to look at her, hers slightly tilted down to see you

“Paige”. a whisper

“Let’s go talk”, Paige walked away to the couch before you.

You trailed behind her like a lost puppy sitting down next to her. She was manspreading, Calvin Klein underwear band peaking out above her low sitting sweatpants. All you can do is admire her in this moment, one thing about Paige is that she never failed to look so good. She eyed you so deeply, those blue eyes felt like sting in your soul.

“I’m here. Talk”, you motioned your hands toward her. She rolled her eyes with a smirk.

“Well..first i’m sorry. I’m sorry for everything i’ve put you through”, she paused, running her hands through her hair. “You were so amazing to me, and loving, and nurturing, just everything a good woman is”.

All you could do was look at her with face full of disappointment. You stayed in your corner not wanting to move closer to her.

“Why was my all never enough for you, I poured all of me into you Paige and it’s never enough”. Your voice went from disappointed to angry and she could tell.

“It was enough baby, I was just too lost at the time to realize everything I needed was right here. Everything I need is sitting right here with me”. She swiftly moved closer to you, grabbing your hand.

“Don’t call me that Paige”.

The room fell silent, Paige’s hands still grasp and not yours. She’s persistent and she will always try to get what she wants.

Unexpectedly Paige’s arms wrapped around you, her head buried next to your neck. Your body just melted in her arms. The familiar feeling caused all the argerness and sadness with warmth. Your eyes closed embracing her touch as all the feelings tumble back.

“I missed you so much”.

“I missed you too”, Paige’s words mumbled as her head still rested in the crook of your neck.

Paige untangled herself and stood up, towering over you again. She held her hand out to you signaling for you to grab her hand. You looked up to her face and back at her hand and accepted her request. She helped you up from your seated position on the couch and led you to your room.

“let’s sleep”, she said jumping on your bed

“You’re gonna break my bed Paige”, dragging out her name. You both laughed at your statement.

You jumped in bed with Paige, both of you smiling and laughing. She proceeded to big spooning you while tightly holding your hands.

“I could be here forever”, Paige whispered as you fell to sleep.

————————————————————————

To be continued..

[florawrites-blog]

Jake and you had been at each other's throats for what felt like a week straight. The tension was thick enough to cut with a butter knife—and all of it started over one simple thing: your leftovers.

It wasn’t just any leftover meal; it was the crown jewel of your dining-out experiences. You had waited two grueling hours in line at that trendy little restaurant everyone raved about. Then, an additional hour just for your food to finally arrive at the table. When it did, the portions were laughably small—hardly enough to justify the ordeal. Still, the food was divine. A single bite felt like heaven on Earth, so you had made the difficult decision to save half of it for the next day.

The plan was simple: enjoy your prize after enduring yet another soul-sucking shift at work. Fantasizing about those leftovers was the only thing that got you through your day. But when you finally opened the fridge and reached for the container, your heart sank. All that greeted you was an empty plastic tray sitting mockingly on the table.

“JAKE!” you bellowed, your voice reverberating through the apartment.

He appeared in the doorway, mouth slightly agape and eyes wide with guilt. “What?” he asked, too innocently for your liking.

“You ate my leftovers, didn’t you?”

“What? Me? No—okay, yes, but in my defense, I was starving and—”

“You promised!” you interrupted, throwing your hands in the air. “I trusted you for once, and you betrayed me. Do you have any idea what I went through to get that food?”

From that moment on, the war began. The smallest disagreements escalated into full-blown arguments. For days, the apartment was a battleground of snide comments and petty actions.

Which brings us to tonight: The Couch Incident.

“Jake, move. That’s my side of the couch,” you said, glaring at him.

“Seriously? Can’t you just sit on the other side?” he replied, unfazed.

“Um, actually, I can’t sit on ‘your side,’ because it’s so worn down it feels like sitting in a ditch. Proof that you do nothing but sit on your ass all day while I do everything around here!”

“That’s a low blow, Y/N. Even for you,” Jake shot back, his tone dripping with indignation.

The two of you stared each other down like cowboys at high noon. Finally, Jake huffed, stood up, and relocated to the far side of the couch.

For a while, you stewed in your victory, basking in the reclaiming of your sacred spot. But as the minutes ticked by, guilt began to creep in. Maybe you had gone too far.

“Jake,” you mumbled, barely audible.

“What?” he grumbled, not even looking at you.

“I’m...sorry. This is stupid. I don’t even know why we’re fighting anymore.”

He sighed, finally turning to face you. “Yeah, me too. Over leftovers, really?”

You chuckled. “It was good food, though.”

“I know,” Jake said with a smirk. “That’s why I couldn’t resist.”

Later that evening, in an ironic twist of fate, you found yourselves at the same restaurant, eating the same dish you had fought over. This time, however, you made a pact to order two portions, ensuring no leftovers would be involved.

And just like that, the Great Leftover War came to an end, leaving behind only the memory of one truly ridiculous week.

[callmemonster68]

SUNGHOON - Dark Sacrifice

( romance dark )

Sunghoon surrenders his soul to a mysterious woman, whose love is both his salvation and his undoing, in a dark pact where passion and pain become inseparable.

Pairing: Sunghoon  X FemReader

Genre: Romance Dark

Warning: sacrifice, destructive love, dark passion, pain and pleasure, dark pact, obsession, femme fatale, submission, forbidden desire, dark fantasy, toxic relationship, mysticism, emotional transformation, inner conflict, total surrender, sexual innuendo

Note: I'm recently starting to write, and English is not my native language. I apologize for any mistakes and hope to improve my writing. Feedback is always welcome!

Inspiration: Sacrifice (Eat Me Up) - Enhypen

The night was suffocating, as if the very air conspired to strip the life from his lungs. He knelt on the cold ground, his breath ragged, beads of sweat sliding down his forehead. The world around him seemed to crumble, but none of it mattered. All that mattered was her.

She stood before him, a cruel contrast of light and shadow. Her eyes shone like stars trapped in a hopeless sky, yet her expression was cold, distant. She was a fallen angel, a dangerous spell that bound him in an eternal cycle of pain and desire.

Sunghoon: Why do you do this to me? He asked, his voice broken, desperate. He knew begging would do no good, but he did it anyway, clinging to a thread of hope that had no right to exist.

She approached slowly, each step echoing like thunder in his mind. Y/N: You say you love me, but you don’t understand what that means. Her voice was soft, almost gentle, yet it cut like invisible blades.

Sunghoon: I do understand. He insisted, desperation pouring from his words.

Sunghoon: I give you everything. My life, my soul… everything I am. Please, don’t leave me like this.

She crouched down, her delicate fingers touching his face. Her touch was icy, yet it ignited something deep within him. Y/N: You speak of sacrifice, but are you truly ready for it?

Without hesitation, he grasped her hand, pressing it against his chest. Sunghoon: Take what you want. My flesh, my blood... I am yours. Forever.

She smiled—a dangerous smile, like a predator knowing its prey couldn’t escape. Y/N: Then prove it.

Before he could react, she pulled him into a kiss. It wasn’t a kiss of love; it was dark, overwhelming. Her lips were fire, and he felt as though he were drowning, being consumed. When she pulled away, he noticed her nails had left marks on his chest, thin lines of blood trickling down.

Y/N: You’re so fragile, She murmured, studying the blood as if it were a masterpiece. S/N: And yet, so willing to break for me.

He looked at her, his heart racing, but his voice steady. Sunghoon: I accept the pain. The pain reminds me I’m alive. That I’m with you.

She stared at him for a long moment, something indecipherable glimmering in her eyes. Then she pulled him closer, her hands sliding around his neck, her body molding to his.

Y/N: Be mine, then. She whispered, her lips brushing against his ear. Y/N: But know this: the more you love me, the more I will destroy you. Until there’s nothing left of you but what I desire.

He didn’t hesitate. Sunghoon: Then destroy me. Make me whatever you want.

Her smile widened, and he knew he had crossed a line from which he could never return. She was his salvation and his undoing, the sole reason for his existence and the cause of his slow death.

And as the night swallowed them, he realized there was no longer a distinction between pleasure and pain, between life and death. He had become hers. Completely. Irrevocably.

And amidst the darkness, he loved her more deeply than he had ever loved anything.

✿ If you don't reblog and comment, you can be sure I'll be showing up in your dreams tonight... and I won’t be as sweet as in the story ✿