#I don’t know why people would make it up either

[harryspet]

rough hands, soft chains [1] r.cameron

[warnings] dark!grey!rancher!rafe x bimbo!cowgirl!reader, arranged marriage, rancher au, manipulation, size difference, future smut, little editing, READ AT YOUR OWN RISK 18+

A/N: This is an au I'm trying out where Kildare County is actually in Montana and all the pogues and kooks exist within a ranching community. Hope you enjoy!! I would really appreciate feedback, reblogs are most appreciated!

In which your dying father struck a deal with Ward Cameron, he promised the family land in exchange for your safety. But protection comes with a price, and that price is Rafe Cameron.

word count: 5k

rafe cameron masterlist

After the funeral, you flopped down on the old leather couch in your living room, absently twirling a lock of your hair as you stared up at the cracked ceiling. Your black dress, meant for the sweltering summers, fell just below your knees. You’d paired it with a shawl you found tucked away in your mother’s dresser, a pretty, soft thing with little patterns you didn’t understand, but it smelled like her, so it felt right.

People at the funeral said you looked “so grown up” now, which filled you with a sense of pride. They said nothing about the dirt under your nails from wandering around the yard barefoot earlier that morning or the way your mascara smeared from crying too much. No one ever took you seriously anyway. 

The quiet of the house was deafening, pressing in at you at all sides. The lack of his presence weighed on you. He’d built every corner of this house, your mother painted every wall, and you were grateful for the life they’d built you. Three bedrooms, a wrap-around porch where you’d once dreamed of watching your children play in the yard as you rocked in your chair, and the old, red barn that had weathered time alongside them. You knew you couldn’t lose it, but you weren’t sure how to keep it either.

A loud knock at the front door made the house shake and snapped you from your daze. It was not the knock of a kind neigbor delivering a sympathy caserole, the knock was firm and authoritative. You half expected the sheriff to be behind the door but instead found yourself staring back at Ward Cameron. 

You pushed back the curls that had fallen into your face. He stood before you, tipping his finest black cattleman hat with deliberate grace, lifting it from his head and placing it over his chest in a quiet gesture of respect. His square jawline was sharp, his striking blue eyes unflinching, and though the gray streaks in his hair hinted at age, they only added to his rugged handomenss. 

“Miss,” he greeted you smoothly, his voice as sharp as the crease in his shirt. He looked out of place here, too clean, too polished for the worn edges of your family’s ranch.

Your anxiety peaked, “Uh, hi. Can I help you?” You gripped the handle of the door tighter than you expected. 

“I think you know why I’m here.” His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s time we talked about your father’s arrangements.”

Arrangements? You shifted nervously, trying to make sense of his words. You knew your dad had debts, but it wasn’t like he told you all the details. You knew that a significant amount of your father’s debt was to Ward. It humiliated your father to lease the Cameron’s grazing rights but he only did it to keep the ranch afloat. Money and paperwork were never your thing, and your dad always said not to worry about it. “I—I don’t think there’s anything to talk about. I’ll figure out how to pay you back, okay?”

Although Ward wasn’t the tallest man, most people towered over you, and as he leaned in the doorway, you knew he had your stature in mind. 

Still, his smile was empty, “Why don’t we discuss this in your father’s office, hmm?” 

“Um, no thanks,” you said quickly, shaking your head. But before you could shut the door, his hand pushed it open with way too much ease. You stumbled back, your cheeks heating with embarrassment as he walked in like he owned the place.

“Excuse me! You can’t just barge in here!” you squeaked, hurrying after him, his expensive boots, tapping against the creaking floor of your home. 

He made his way down the downstairs hallway, barging into the room that not even your father wanted you to step in. Immediately as you stepping inside, a coldness touched you. he heavy oak desk sat like a monument to your father’s stubbornness, papers scattered across its surface in disarray. Just looking at it made your brain feel fuzzy. Ward moved behind it as if it were his own, his hands brushing against the chair’s worn leather.

“I offered to come speak to you, before all of this drama, but your father insisted I wait until he was gone,” Ward gestured to rickety chair that sat in front of the desk, “Sit.”

You ignored him, crossing your arms in stubborness, “What are you talking about?”

“Do you know how much exactly your father owes me? How much you’d be taking on?”

His words, like they had certainly intended to, made you feel stupid. Your father made sure you were uninvolved in the ranch’s finances and he had just passed this week, you hadn’t thought about entering his office and disturbing his things. 

You blinked, your mouth opening and closing. “Well… um… I know he owed some money, but he didn’t really tell me how much.”

“It’s more than the farm is worth, Y/N.”

The weight of his words settled heavily between you, thickening the already suffocating air in the room. You clenched your jaw, refusing to show any sign of the panic tightening in your chest. The farm, your father’s legacy, your mother’s dreams, was supposed to be yours to save.

“That can’t be right,” you said, though your voice wavered slightly. “My father would’ve told me if it was that bad.”

“Would he? It’s nothing you should’ve worried your pretty head about,” Ward continued, his eyes sharp and assessing, “We parents try to protect our children. But he was too prideful. Pride doesn’t pay the bills and banks don’t wait forever.”

“The bank–”

“The bank would’ve taken the entire property if your father hadn’t already signed the land over to me.”

Your heart sunk into your stomach at Ward Cameron’s words. Your breath hitched as you stared at him, trying to process what he’d just said. You shook your head in disbelief, “He wouldn’t do that.”

The land was the only piece of your father that you had left. A hundred acres that your family and only a few ranch hands tended to.There were dwindling amounts of livestock, mounting debts, but it was your home. Humble in comparison to the Cameron’s thousands of acres but it belonged to your family. Even if you were the only one left. 

“This all would’ve been easier for you if your father had explained all of this to you before. I think he was scared of you hating him.”

“I don’t understand.”

Ward’s expression didn’t falter. If anything, he looked almost bored with your responses, “We came to an agreement a year after his initial diagnosis. Instead of losing it to the bank, he would sign it over to me.”

“I promised to take care of you.” Ward’s words were slow, deliberate, as if he were explaining something to a child. “You’re unmarried, no prospects, and this place is a sinking ship. Someone was bound to take advantage of you eventually. You don’t have the resources to rebuild.”

“T-take care of me?” you stammered, your face scrunching in confusion.

“You’ll come live with my family for the time being. And eventually you will marry my son, Rafe.”

Your eyes went wild, “Are you crazy?”

Ward’s expression didn’t change. If anything, he looked even more smug. “This arrangement keeps the land in the family, ensures your safety, and gives you a future. You’re not equipped to handle this ranch on your own, Y/N. Your father knew that. I’m offering you a way out.”

You gaped at him, your thoughts spinning too fast to make sense of anything. “I… I want to talk to a lawyer or—or see his will or something!”

“You’re out of options. It’s either this arrangement or being out on the streets. I’m tossing you a lifeline.” 

 “I didn’t agree to this,” you said, your voice shaking with a mixture of anger and disbelief.

“No,” Ward admitted, standing and adjusting his cuffs. “But your father did. And a Cameron always honors their agreements.”

You wanted to scream, to tell him to leave and take his deal with him, but the weight of your father’s decisions pressed down on you. The debts, the ranch, your future—it was all tangled up in a web you couldn’t escape.

“I’ll give you until tomorrow to pack your things,” Ward said, placing his hat back on his head. “Rafe will come by to collect you.”

He turned and walked to the door without another word, leaving you standing alone in the office. The walls seemed to close in around you, and although you’d be crying for a week, you cried again. 

You thought that if you weren’t at the house when Ward’s oldest son came to collect you, they might just give up and leave you be. Maybe you’d slip through the cracks of their plans, vanish into the quiet of the countryside. You could disappear for a little while and return in a few days. It would be rough surviving outside but you could make it on your own. You’d packed a small bag of essentials and took Juliet, the chestnut-colored mare that had belonged to you since your fourteenth birthday.

“Okay, Jules, we’re gonna go on a little adventure,” you whispered as you fumbled with her saddle. 

Her large, liquid-brown eyes blinked at you with trust as you led her down the south path, the one behind your family’s ranch, overgrown from years of neglect. You left before the sun had a chance to rise. You didn’t want Ward Cameron or his scary son to find you, after all.

You tried to dress for comfort. Your long jeans would keep you warm, and you layered a jean jacket over a soft white cotton shirt. Perched atop your head was your trusty white cowboy hat, its wide brim offering protection from the sun, taming your unruly curls, while keeping your face shielded.

Juliet made a snorting sound, and you patted her neck. “Don’t worry, girl, we’ve totally got this. Like, what’s the worst that could happen?” You glanced back at the ranch, its dark outline fading behind the trees. 

You mounted Juliet after deciding the direction you were going to travel in. You wanted to be much farther away by the time the sun came up. The air was cool and crisp, a reminder of the coming morning. You looked behind you although you were sure no one was following you yet. 

The path twisted and turned. “Okay, so if we head toward the old fishing shack by the river, we can stay there for, like, a day. Nobody’s used it in forever.” You spoke out loud, pretending that Juliet could respond. “I think it’s... that way.”

You continued down the path in the direction you remembered the fishing shack to be located. The sun rose slowly, bringing light to the dark path. The shack was tucked away on the outskirts of the ranch, sitting in the bend of the river, most of it shielded by tall grass. The water flowed gently, the sound caressing your ears, it’s hues reflecting the red in the sky. 

A clearing sat nearby covered in wildflowers, the bright colors splashed against the muted landscape. You hadn’t ventured this far out since the previous spring and were surprised to see how the flowers had held their vibrancy, defying the chill of the cooler months. 

You hopped down from your saddle, taking Juliet’s rein before you tied her to a nearby tree, allowing her room to graze. The shack was small and weathered, and you rested on a rickety cot that you had to clear of cobwebs. It felt safe. At least for now. 

If only staying still was your strong suit. A few hours later, boredom quickly got the best of you. You could only talk to Juliet for so long and you’d failed several times to nap inside the dirty shack. The silence pressed in on you. You decided to wander out into the wild flower fields, tugging your cowboy hat low over your curls. The vibrant colors were calling to you. 

An hour later, you held a thick bundle flowers in your arm and a crown of daisies wrapped around your hat. Before you knew it, the shack was almost out of your sight and you faced a long trek back to Juliet. 

You didn’t hear him at first.

“Hell of a hiding spot.”

The deep drawl froze you in place. Slowly, you turned, heart pounding, your eyes landing on Rafe Cameron sitting tall on his horse a few yards away. His blue eyes sparkled with amusement, though the tight line of his jaw hinted at something darker.

Rafe’s quarter horse was even more intimidating. It’s coat was midnight black, sleek and imposing. There was a wild, untamed quality to him, a fire in his eyes that mirrored Rafe’s own.

“I… I was just…” You stepped back without thinking, the urge to drop your bouquet and bolt creeping up. You’d seen Ward’s son from across a room before, but no one had ever bothered to introduce you. Still, you knew enough from the whispers and rumors. He was wild, always getting into trouble with the Kildare County police, and everyone said he was gonna take over his dad’s power and influence one day. 

He was older than you remembered, more rugged, and definitely more muscular. His black button-up shirt clung to broad shoulder and his sleeves rolled up to reveal sculpted arms. A baseball cap sat atop his head, the bill slightly bent, with the Cameron Ranch sigil stitched on the front—an emblem of a stallion rearing. His light brown hair peeked from beneath it, slightly tousled. 

“You’ve been wandering around all morning. Half the town’s already seen you,” Rafe leaned forward slightly, eyeing you curiously, “If you were gonna run, thought you’d go a little bit farther.” You gained the courage to finish your sentence, “I wasn’t running …or hiding. And you can’t tell Mr. Cameron that.”

“Why do you think he sent me?” He smiled devishly, “I’m the one you gotta worry about, darlin’.” 

Your lips parted in shock and Rafe watched you take another step back. His jaw clicked before he swiftly hopped down from his horse. His heavy boots hit the dirt with a thud that seemed to echo, and you couldn’t help but notice the sheer size of him. Though he wasn’t much older than you, it was clear he towered over you, his presence demanding attention in a way that made your knees feel weak.

“I’m not coming with you,” You stated with all the strength you could muster, “It’s not right. You can’t make me.”

He stared back at you. Where Ward was bored by conversation with you, something about your Ward’s made Rafe’s eyes fiery, “And I guess you’ll make your living by what … selling flower crowns?” 

Your eyebrows furrowed. You hadn’t considered that an option. In fact, you hadn’t dwelled long enough on what you would do once Ward gave up on this arranged marriage nor did you have any idea of how to make the ranch profitable again. The idea seemed wrong. Flowers weren’t the key, were they? 

“I’m kidding,” Rafe spoke again after a moment of watching you reflect, “That’s a bad fucking idea. You know…I think your father might’ve been right about one thing in his life. You do need someone to look after you.” 

“You don’t know me,” You looked away, your face heating up with embarrassment, “And I don’t want to go with you.” 

A yelp escaped your lips as he started to close the distance between you, his long strides closing the gap in a matter of seconds. His smirk widened at your reaction, and quickly, you dropped your bouquet and made a run for the fishing shack. Rough hands easily snatched you up by your waist, lifting your feet off the ground, and making your head spin, “You’re real cute, darlin’,” Rafe drawled, hardly breakin a sweat as he dragged you back towards his horse. His grip on your waist was firm, unrelenting, and no matter how much you kicked or squirmed, it didn’t matter. He only hoisted you higher. 

Heavy boots crunched against the dirt. You could hear your breathing and the sharp pounding of your heart in your ears. You lost your hat and subsequently your flower crown in the struggle. Scared that you might spook Rafe’s horse, you found yourself succumbing to his force, letting him lift you onto the saddle. 

“Please, let me down,” You whispered, tears beginning to fall. Rafe was next, hoisting himself onto the black stallion, squeezing himself behind you. You were pressed against him so much that you could feel the flexing of the muscles of his stomach. An arm wrapped tightly around your waist. 

Rafe shushed you, and surprisingly, you felt him settle your hat back on your head. You hadn’t even seen him pick it up. You were never supposed to ride without a hat, that’s what your father had taught you. You barely had time to process it before he urged the horse forward, the powerful animal's hooves pounding the earth beneath you as Rafe held you tightly, “M-My horse, Juliet!” You remembered, panicked, “I won’t go without her, Rafe!”

“I didn’t forget your horse,” He spoke calmer than you expected, though his tone still had an edge to it, “She’ll follow. Unlike you, she seems to have a decent amount of common sense.” 

He kicked the horse into a gallop, the powerful animal responding instantly, the sound of its hooves hitting the ground like thunder in the otherwise still air. The wind whipped through your hair, stinging your face. You gripped the saddle tightly, to anchor yourself, despite knowing that Rafe’s grip was strong enough to keep you from flying. 

This wasn’t the escape you wanted. Not even close. 

Sure, he’d heard the rumors that you were a little …daft. And maybe that was true in some ways, but you were more than he had anticipated. He followed you, watched as you handled the horse with ease, and found himself intrigued. Your confusion, innocence, even your stubbornness drew him in like a moth to a flame. 

The last thing Rafe wanted was a wife. He resisted the way his father felt like he could stll make decisions for him. Rafe was losing with this arrangement. Your father’s hundred acres was nothing in comparison to what he family already had and would acquire. But perhaps his father had seen exactly what Rafe was seeing now. You were raw, so unpolished, and that meant you could be shaped. 

Once you were under the Cameron’s roof, Rafe had the power to do whatever he wanted. 

Proving himself to Ward was a constant battle, every choice scrutinized, every misstep noted. To run the ranch one day, Rafe needed to show he could manage it all, the land, business, and now a wife. Building a home and keeping you in line was just another test.

That morning, Rafe had never expected to chase after you on horseback. He had arrived in his truck, scouring the house for any sign of you, only to realize you were already gone. In frustration, he called John B., one of the Cameron ranch hands, and sent him to bring Trigger, his horse, to the Y/L/N ranch.

When you both returned, John B. was already there, waiting. Thunder cracked above, a sunny morning turning into a dreary afternoon. Rafe barked orders to ensure Juliet and Trigger were both stabled at the Cameron’s ranch.

He lifted you down from the saddle, his grip firm on your wrists before you could bolt. It only took a second for him to realize the urgency in your voice as you spoke, trying to talk to John B., who was already taking Juliet and Trigger’s reins. “She gets nervous when she’s in new places. She doesn’t like to be rushed,” Rafe overheard, catching the panic in your tone.

“Yes, ma’am. Don’t worry, I’ll take it slow with her,” John B. assured her although Rafe only glared at the worker, jaw tight. 

“Come on,” Rafe pulled your arm, “We’re leaving.”

Your small hands grabbed where he’d wrapped his hands around your arm. You dug your boots into the gravel in front of the house, “Wait, I don’t have everything. I-I need to grab some things,” Rafe’s gripped only tightened as his irritation grew. 

“You should’ve thought about that before you made me chase after you,” He took one more look at your teary-face before he snapped. Taking you home should’ve taken thirty minutes, not four hours. Without warning, he scooped you up over his shoulder, ignoring the surprised gasp you let out. 

Your legs kicked in the air, “Hey! Please put me down!” Rafe didn’t spare your house on John B. a second glance as he trudged over to his dark, blue truck. Please, that made Rafe brow furrow. Rafe took the opportunity to cop a feel, of course, he had to know exactly what he was working with. You were his future wife, after all, “Rafe! I don’t like being upside down!” 

“Scream all the way there for all I fucking care,” He muttered under his breath, his voice cold as he finally reached the truck and tossed you into the passenger seat.

Rafe sped off moments after he pressed start engine on the vehicle. You went quiet and he hoped to be alone with his thoughts, soothed by the soft pitter patter of rain on his windshield. Fifteen minutes down the road, he heard your breath hitch. He looked over to see you were staring straight head, eyes wide and wet with tears. Smudged mascara beneath your eyes. Your chest rose and fell rapidly and you clutched your hands tightly in your lap. Your lips were shaking, moving as if you were whispering something to yourself. 

Your legs began to jitter, restless, and Rafe looked away. He managed to tune out your obvious panic for nearly an entire minute. He had a rare feeling. One he didn’t fully understanding. The angel on his shoulder was telling him to reach out, to try and comfort you. He thought about what Wheezie might think if this was the disheveled state he brought his future wife to meet her in. He let out a quiet sigh, knowing it was only going to get worse as the reality of your situation set in.

“Hey,” He spoke without that sharp edge, channeling a voice he might use with his youngest sister, “I didn’t mean you’d never get your things. We can come back, when you’re more settled …And I’ll send someone to get all your keepsakes. Okay?” 

“Okay, okay, okay,” You repeated though your voice sounded empty, “Okay.”

He thought those would be the magic words but you hadn’t even turned to look at him. You were doing the same thing, shaking like a leaf, barely taking in enough breath, “Fuck,” Rafe cursed. He pulled over to the side of the road with a sharp jerk, the gravel crunching under the tires as the truck slowed to a stop. Without thinking, he shifted into park and turned to you.

Rafe needed to be more deliberate in his actions. He had eyes on him, his entire immediate family, and he wouldn’t have them thinking he couldn’t handle you. 

He tried to calm you, squeezed your hand, told you to breathe over and over again. Nothing. You were spiraling, letting your thoughts consume you. Rafe had been too rough. It was all too much too fast for you. He wanted to mold you, not break you. 

He leaned in, taking your face in his hands, and pressing his lips to yours. You went frantic but he only deepened the kiss. He held your hand and slowly felt your tension lesson. He entwined his fingers in yours and slowly felt you move your own lips against his. You tasted like cherries, dark red, and perfectly ripe. His hands moved to the back of your neck, his fingers pressing lightly, urging you to focus, to let go of the panic.

He pulled away only when you stopped your heaving. 

“You’re okay,” he murmured, his voice low and steady. “You’re okay now. Breathe with me.”

He waited for you to come back to him, cradling you there. You had no one left, Rafe realized in that moment, the truth settling heavily in his chest. And maybe that was why he couldn’t bring himself to be cruel. 

No, taking care of you wasn’t just an obligation, it was an important responsibility. One he’d shoulder completely. Whether you liked it or not, Rafe would make sure of it.

Rafe Cameron tasted like whiskey, with a faint hint of mint that lingered now even as you stood in the foyer of your new home, Tannyhill Ranch. The white house was sprawling and pristine, situated amidst of sea of green fields. Windows sparkled even in the storm that was coming down, and although the roof’s shingles were weathered, it was hard to believe the property had been there for more than a century. 

Workers, chefs and maids, bustled by but no one spared you or Rafe a glance despite the dry tears on your face and disheveled appearance. 

The interior was grand, the hardwoods polished until they shined, and the ceilings were higher than the ones at church. Everything screamed old money. You felt a hand on the small of your back, guiding you through the grand entrance hall and then up one side of a grand staircase. Portraits line the walls, serious faces, Camerons and previous owners of the estate. 

Their eyes watched you, “Rafe, where are we going?” You asked him quietly. 

“To your room,” He spoke low and firm. There hadn’t been any rough grabbing of your limbs or unwanted rides on Rafe’s shoulder since your kiss in the car. You hadn’t fully let you guard down but you preferred when Rafe was calm, and so you remained calm too, “You can settle in.”

Rafe led you down the upstairs hallway, stopping at one of at least six bedroom doors, and pushing it open. The room was breathtaking, a four-poster bed draaped in white linens, oak furniture, blue-white toile patterns, and large windows that overlooked the property. It was beautiful, yes, but none of this belonged to you. 

Your fingers absentmidnely traced the fabric of the bed’s comforter before you got a grip, turning around to say something in protest, “Don’t look at me like that,” Rafe interrupted, hands tucking into the front of jeans as if to give off a non-chalant appearance. The position emphasized the silvery belt buckle that sat on the middle of his waist. 

“I don’t want to live here,” You spoke softly, your voice still weak from all the crying. 

“I know,” Rafe continued, sounding exactly like his father, “Your father did though. You still love your Daddy, don’t you?” 

Rafe’s words made you think. Really think. Of course you loved your father. He was a smart man and he always did right by you and your Mother. However, deep down, this all still felt wrong. You stood there, caught between the beauty of the room and the unease of what you felt.

You nodded, “But–”

“But this is what he wanted, darlin’,” Rafe spoke in a way that carried a sense of finality. Rafe stepped closer and suddenly his body was a brick wall keeping you from leaving the room. His lips pulled into a smirk and he leaned down to speak in your ear, his breath fanning over your cheeks. Whiskey and mint, “You always did what your Daddy said, right?” 

“Yes,” You answered too honestly for your own good. 

“Now you’ll do what I say. That’s how it works. A young lady belongs to her father, and one day, after she grows up, she belongs to her husband,” He straightened up and you blinked your big eyes up at him. Slowly, your eyes traveled down to his lips, “You’ll thank me, one day.” 

Gently, he tucked a finger beneath your chin, lifting it even higher. You held your head exactly in the place he placed it, making something flicker in Rafe’s eyes. A heat bloomed in your core. You could only think about that kiss, your first one, despite the fact that he was one of the men completely ruining your life. 

“You ever seen someone break a wild horse?” 

His question caught you off guard, and your brows furrowed slightly as you searched his face for meaning. The smirk on his lips deepened, and his hand dropped from your chin.

“Takes patience. Takes strength. Takes knowing exactly when to push and when to pull back. But eventually, the horse figures out who’s in charge.” His blue eyes darkened, the intensity of his gaze pinning you in place, ”Out on the ranch, when we get a wild one. It’s my favorite thing to do. Watch em’ go from fighting you to starting to trust you. Really, there’s no point in fighting. The one’s who don’t submit, we don’t keep em’ around. They’re dangerous.”

“Oh,” You managed to say, shifting uncomfortably, “That sounds … hard.” 

Rafe chuckled in response, “Hard? Yeah, especially if you don’t know what you’re doing.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but before you could, Rafe’s smirk returned, sharper now, his eyes narrowing slightly.

“You want me to kiss you again. I can tell.”

His words sent you stammering immediately, “No!” 

“Tell you what,” Rafe interrupted smoothly, ignoring your denial as if it hadn’t even registered. “If you settle in, get all dolled up for dinner…” His voice dripped with false generosity. “I’ll give you another one.”

You stared, dumbfounded and frozen until the young rancher casually turned and walked out of the room. Your fists clenched at your sides as a storm of emotions swirled inside you, anger and fear. One emotion simmered quietly beneath the surface, unwelcome and disorienting. Anticipation.

Reblog and let me know your thoughts to be added to the taglist!

[my-castles-crumbling]

fire - Jegulus Microfic - @into-the-jeggyverse - word count: 1367 (whoops)

There were few things Regulus Black valued more than sleep. Perhaps reading. Or music. Or a nice dark roast coffee. But either way, sleep was of the utmost importance. He was even more prickly than normal without at least eight hours of it, and miserable as well, so he always prioritized getting his rest.

Which is why he was ready to kill everyone in his path when the fire alarm was pulled at 2:47 am on a Tuesday night in his university dorm, and he was forced to evacuate into the parking lot.

Not only was the whole thing infuriating, but to make matters worse, it was also freezing outside. The September air was chilling him to his bones, and he could feel his body screaming for shut-eye. It was his definition of hell.

As he stood shivering, a tall, dark-haired, tan-skinned, hazel-eyed boy walked up to him and offered him his coat with the most obnoxiously beautiful grin he’d ever seen.

Too cold to play stupid games, he just hissed, “Fuck off,” and turned away.

As soon as they were all allowed back inside, Regulus curled under his blanket and fell asleep, keen to put the whole miserable experience behind him.

-

No such luck.

It took one week before the alarm went off again. This time at 1:19am on a Thursday, he found himself trudging down the stairs and into the cold, cursing himself for once again being too sleepy to remember a coat.

So furious that he was about to scream, he didn’t see the same boy walk up to him right away, until he felt a tap on his shoulder. 

“I brought you an extra,” the boy grinned, making Regulus’s frozen knees melt as he offered him the jacket.

“Do you make a habit of giving your clothing to strangers?” he bit out, giving in and grabbing the offending garment, immediately throwing it over his shoulders. He figured if he was going to be harassed, he might as well be warm while it happened.

“Only the pretty ones,” the boy said with a wink, walking off and leaving Regulus both pissed off and flustered.

-

The third time happened only three days after the second, and Regulus bit back a scream when the alarm roused him from his slumber. At this point, it felt like a pattern, and he was at least smart enough to grab the oversized, frayed, horrifyingly maroon, disgustingly warm jacket he’d thrown over his desk chair three days ago.

He was only outside for a few minutes before the boy walked up to him again, looking completely comfortable in the frigid night.

“So, do I get to know your name?” he asked, sending Regulus the same stunning smile.

Frowning, at both his current whereabouts and the way his stomach flip-flopped, Regulus scoffed. “I don’t know yours.”

“James,” he answered easily, kicking at a random rock on the pavement. “Now, I’ve given you two things. It makes sense that you should give me one, yeah? Only fair.” And he batted his long eyelashes, making Regulus nearly choke on his spit.

He pretended to ponder for a moment, getting ahold of himself, before rolling his eyes. “No,” he said shortly. And he walked off.

-

“What about your major, then?”

Ten days. It took ten days before the alarm was pulled again, and the school had started sending out cryptic notices threatening consequences for the party responsible. But still, Regulus was here, in the parking lot in the middle of the night, sending a death glare at James.

“Why does it matter?” he asked with a huff.

“Because people tend to care about their majors,” the taller boy shrugged. “And I want to know what you care about. Mine’s education, by the way.”

Education. It fit, strangely. James’s sunshiny disposition warmed the surrounding air even during the cold night, and his smile seemed like the type of thing that would put kids at-ease.

Regulus sighed, giving in. “English. With a minor in creative writing,” he mumbled, looking down.

“Hmm. That suits you,” James replied vaguely, smiling. What the hell was that supposed to mean? “And your name?”

He thought about it for a moment, but at this point, it almost felt like he would be giving in to some sort of weird, unspoken battle if he shared his name. And he had to admit, talking with James passed the time during these stupid evacuations. “No,” he answered, sending the boy a smirk, heart skipping a beat at his own nerve, and turning to find someone else to speak with.

-

It became a game. Every time the alarm was pulled, James found him. He asked him questions, and Regulus answered every one, shocked at the way James listened. It was actually nice to talk to someone who seemed genuinely interested. He hadn’t made a lot of friends on campus, yet, and James felt…safe. But every time James asked his name, he refused, grinning as much as James did, before sauntering away.

-

One cold night in November, though, he couldn’t sleep. Stress about classes had his mind going wild, and anxious energy flooded his body. So, he decided to take a walk through the dorm, to clear his head. He drifted through the floors and halls, no destination in mind, when he happened across one of the more-quiet areas of the building. This area happened to have a fire alarm in a dark corner of the hall, almost hidden in shadows. It was as he turned a corner to this spot that Regulus saw a hooded figure slowly approach the alarm, arm outstretched, intentions clear. 

Eyes wide, Regulus watched as the figure pulled the latch and began to run, turning and smacking right into Regulus.

“Ouch!” He cried out, nearly falling over.

“Fuck!” The person yelled, losing their balance as well.

And then the hood fell. And Regulus would have recognized those hazel eyes and that beautiful hair anywhere.

“James!?!”

The other boy looked terrified, mouth open, his body frozen in place. He uttered a few syllables as if he was trying to form words, but no sound came out. Scoffing, Regulus grabbed his hand and led him down some nearby stairs and out the emergency exit, alarm still blaring overhead.

When they got into the quiet, freezing air, he turned to the taller boy. “It was you?” he hissed, resisting the urge to slap him across the shoulder. The amount of sleep he’d lost in the past two months was abhorrent. “Why?”

James grimaced. “Well…the first two times, it wasn’t! But, y’know, the first time you didn’t have a coat…”

“I remember,” Regulus frowned, rolling his eyes.

“Yeah. And…I couldn’t stop thinking about you. So the second time, I just…grabbed my old one. And when you took it and you looked so…” James gestured to Regulus, eyes wide, cheeks pink. Regulus blinked, trying to understand. Was James saying he looked good in his jacket? “…I couldn’t stop thinking about you, so I just…”

Regulus gaped. “You’ve been pulling the fire alarm to see me?”

“It was only supposed to be a one-time thing! Just to get your name!” James defended himself, looking almost scared. “I didn’t know how to find you, and I just….you have to understand, you’re fucking stunning, you know?”

Blushing furiously, Regulus sputtered, “That’s…well, that’s not…”

“But then you wouldn’t tell me your name! So I had to keep pulling it, you know?” James explained, a desperate look on his face. Like it obviously made sense why he’d been breaking the law for two months. “...Just until I found out.”

He blinked several times before biting his lip. Nobody had ever gone to such lengths to get to know him before. It was stupid, and risky, and idiotic, and so damn romantic.

“My name is Regulus,” he sighed, wondering if he’d regret this. “I live in room 743. And if you ever pull that damn alarm again, and wake me up, I will never speak to you again. Understood?”

James grinned sheepishly. “Yeah. Your name is as beautiful as you are, by the way.”

Regulus could only sigh. What had he gotten himself into?

I also posted this here if you want to go give it some love!

[rat6ix]

So what?

Nam-gyu x reader

Summary: you are horrible for each other but neither of you are gonna do anything about it.

Warnings: smut, toxic!nam-gyu AND reader, neither of them are good people dont be like them, degrading from both parties, switch!nam-gyu and reader, biting, doesn’t take place in squid game, talk of drugs; no description of either doing them but yall high as shit, reader and nam-gyu love each other in some kind of fucked up way…i think, reader is highkey a freak and not in a good way, choking but not the sexy kind reader is tryna kill him, but then again he finds it hot so maybe it is sexy..?, no aftercare.

Porn with no plot 😇

—

Wc: 1.1k

— 🐀

At this point you’re not sure nam-gyu remembers why you were fighting, the drugs in your system combined with the feeling of his cock shoved inside of you making both of your brains fuzzy, you could tell he was getting antsy —impatient even. You hadn’t moved since his cock had slipped inside of you, he didnt deserve it, Not until he apologized. His hands away from any part of you, you made it very clear you would have no problem kicking him out of your apartment , it wouldn’t be the first time he was on your doorstep begging for you to let him in.

You heard him whine from under you, obviously trying to keep himself from squirming. You could feel his cock twitch every time you shifted a certain way, you wanted to roll your eyes at how pathetic he was. His eyebrows were scrunched together, his eyes squeezed shut trying not to fall apart but you knew he would sooner than later.

“Don’t be like that, stop being a cunt nam-gyu look at me.” You teased.

Bringing your hand up to his jaw. You chuckled as he glared at you, his hands twitching by his sides. You know how much he wanted to flip you over and fuck your brains out but you also knew he wouldn’t cause his ego means too much to him.

“Fuck you.” Nam-gyu growled, his jaw clenched his eyes still glaring. You stared down at him blankly before you started laughing, you’d might as well have tears in your eyes at this point.

“You’d love that wouldn’t you.” you joked.

You rolled your hips, a smile still on your face as nam-gyu let out a strangled noise. You moved your upper body closer to his, your hand leaving his jaw finally. Leaning to whisper in his ear.

“Say you’re sorry and I’ll fuck you.”

He made a noise of defiance, jerking his head away from your’s. You leaned back up and frowned, reaching down and gripping his hair. He winced at the feeling, your grip tight as you pulled his face towards yours.

“Don’t do that nam-gyu, you owe me an apology for what you did.” You insisted.

When He didn’t answer your grip on his hair got tighter until he broke.

“Fuck—fine! Im sorry.” He pleaded tears gathering in his eyes from the pain.

“You don’t even know what you’re apologizing for.” You chuckled.

You knew he didn’t and you were right, the look on his face gave him away. It was the face he always made when he was about to lie himself out of trouble. You knew him far too well for far too long for that to work on you. He didn’t know but you didn’t mind reminding him, your hands moving to his chest.

“Remember when you left me high off my ass on the bathroom floor of club pentagon tonight because you had “better things to do than babysit someone who cant handle their drugs”, hm?” You tilted your head as you spoke.

You were tempted to get off his dick kick him out right now just because he didn’t remember, luckily a nice girl stayed with you until you were sober enough to walk and he’s lucky you’re somewhat sober now or else you’re sure you’d be throwing his shit out of your bedroom window; you probably still will if he pisses you off again.

“You’re still mad about that?” Nam-gyu laughed.

His laughter didnt last long as you brought your hands to his throat and fucking squeezed. His eyes widened as you smiled down at him, his fingers trying to pry your hands off of him.

“C’mon say sorry.” You chuckled, doing your best to keep your hands where they were.

“Fuck— im— sor—sorry.” He tried his best to wheeze out.

Satisfied with his shitty apology you release your grip on his neck leaving him sputtering for breath and coughing. You looked down at him with disinterest, your fingers drawing shapes into his stomach. It took him a little bit to get back to normal, his eyes still wide looking at you. He opened his mouth to talk but you cut him off before he even began.

“I could feel your dick twitching the entire time i dont wanna hear anything you fucking slut.” You rolled your eyes.

You barely had time to register him flipping the both of you over, his hands on your wrists keeping you still. His face was unreadable but you could tell he was fucking pissed. It didn’t take long for him to start fucking his cock in you at a brutal pace, his ringed fingers moving to to dig into your thighs, You were definitely going to have bruises on them in the morning.

Your fingers digging into his shoulders kept you grounded, your jaw dropped a bit has he fucked you into your mattress. He was breathing heavy above you, his head hung with hair framing his face. You could hear him curse under his breath a few times before raising his head back up and flipping his hair back to where it wouldn’t obscure his vision.

“Looking a little tired nam-gyu—“ you laughed.

You were cut off by a particularly rough thrust, jolting you backward. You could nam-gyu had enough if your bullshit but that only made you smile harder as he got angrier.

“Stupid fucking bitch, always running your mouth.” Nam-gyu retorted, gripping your jaw.

It hurt to keep smiling, his fingers digging into your face, but you didn’t care. Your mouth open now as you drool all over his hand. He looks at you disgusted before letting go to wiping the drool all over your face. You laughed as best as you could with his cock still being shoved into you at an alarming pace. Your breathing was as labored as nam-gyus at this point, you could tell he was as close to cumming as you were.

Your hands went to the hair on his neck, he probably wasnt even feeling anything but you wrapped around his cock as you tugged at it. His eyes were trained on where your bodies met, occasionally looking up at your face. His hips were stuttering now, the way you were squeezing his cock not making it any easier. For the first time that night he leaned down and caught your lips in a bruising kiss, you decided to take pity on him and return it. After the kiss was broken you took advantage of the position you were in, digging your teeth into his shoulder smiling up at him when he pushed you back with a glare.

It wasnt long after that you both came, nam-gyu pulling out to cum on your stomach. The room was still, the only sound being both of your loud breathing. He rolled off of you a minute later, taking his place on your other side. You stared up at the ceiling for a while before getting up and making your way to the bathroom.

“Where are you going?” Nam-gyu asked out of breath.

“Shower.”

—

Belongs to rat6ix

[babymorte]

the caption is hilarious but can we take a second to admire how far ive come? this was at a fitting for a silent hill cosplay shoot i did a while ago. i was not mentally in a great place here. at best i was 98lbs and im 5’4. im afraid im falling back into old habits and im starting to scare myself. im not asking for sympathy or pity but when these old photos pop up that people are liking them it makes me sad because i know a lot of people see these and think i look good (which doesnt make sense but is appreciated) and like even now i stopped posting photos and vids of my body because im so ashamed of how im treating it. ive lost control of everything and i just dont really know how to handle it. im losing friends im losing family my entire relationship went up in flames in the blink of an eye and im losing my house in probably a year and a half on top of having to help someone get out of debt so they’re not completely fucked when the time comes. i really don’t know what to do anymore and im just so fucking lost and alone.

[wonderjanga]

Marvel Finds Everything Cute

Marvel finds literally every creature cute and it’s either extremely disturbing or strange to the rest of the league.

Marvel, Aquaman, and Wondy: *in Tartarus*

Aquaman: “Is that Cerberus??”

Wondy: “Yes, yes, it is.”

Random Demon: *flailing around in one of its mouths*

Marvel: “Cerby!”

Cerberus: *all three heads perk up*

Marvel: “Drop.” *points down*

Cerberus: *spits him out*

Marvel: “Good boy!” *flies over to scratch under one of it’s heads*

Aquaman: *watching as Marvel coos over the dog*

Wondy: *kills the demon*

They all got to ride the Cerberus after that. Aquaman was on the left most head, Marvel was on the middle, and Diana was on the right. Hades was extremely confused when he saw this because he never thought Cerberus would act like this around mortals??

or

JL: *all wearing blindfolds besides Marvel because they don’t wanna go insane*

Marvel: *waves* “Hi Cthulhu!”

Cthulhu: *tentacle noise that’s the equivalent of “Hello, Champion*

Batman: “Mighty Cthulhu, we have come here today-”

Marvel: “You’re just as cute as I remember!” *disappears past the tentacles and is probably scratching his chin or something*

*silence*

Batman: “Captain, please step away from the primordial entity that can drive people insane with just one look.”

Marvel: *poked his head out of the tentacles, not that they can see* “But he’s adorable!”

Everyone on the JL was a little confused as to how Marvel was able to call the Lovecraftian entity cute but whatever.

or

Wondy and Marvel: *on a ship, watching a single harpy sing*

Marvel: *isn’t affected*

Wondy: *is a little affected but covering her ears makes it more less affective*

Marvel: “Look Diana! A Harpy!” *picks it up*

Harpy: *between singing and screeching at being picked up*

Wondy: “Brother, we cannot take it back to the Watchtower.”

Marvel: “But why?”

Wondy: “It will bewitch all the heroes with it’s song.”

Marvel: “Oh yeah…” *gloomily puts it back down and it runs off*

Marvel was like super depressed, but Diana just got him a chicken and that instantly made him happy again.

or

Constantine and Marvel: *both in Hell and walking down a path*

Hellhound: *pops in out of nowhere and starts barking*

Constantine: *gets jumpscared* “SHIT!”

Marvel: *sounds so excited* “A hellhound!” *bends down to pet it a bunch* “Who’s a good boy?”

Hellhound: *loving the attention*

Constantine: *watching this and judgmentally lights up a cigarette* “How do you do that, mate?”

Marvel: “Huh?”

Constantine: “I’ve heard from others that you’re like a fucking Disney princess when it comes to monsters for some reason. How do you do that? Is that something you get from being the champion?”

Marvel: “I don’t know actually!”

He actually doesn’t know, because Solomon told him that none of the Champions besides a couple were like this and it was just because they were good with animals and stuff. In other words, he and a couple others were like Disney princesses because they love animals, regardless of the fact that they’re alien or monsters or not.

[bweeeb]

PUPPY EYES

Synopsis: When Pedro doesn't take you to the awards ceremony for his new movie, your relationship starts to go downhill with the thought that maybe you're too young to give him everything he needs.

Warnings: nothing major, angst, couple with problems, Pedro and you are 26 years apart.

Career, projects, new movies, memories, and that topic that always left you unsure—was it negative or positive anticipation when people brought up relationships?

It wasn’t news to anyone that five months ago, when you and Pedro made it official that you’d been secretly seeing each other for a year, people started digging into every little detail. And a few months ago, the age difference between you two didn’t bother anyone in your social circle. Both of you were adults who knew exactly what you were doing with your lives.

Even your parents, who had initially been surprised by the man 26 years older than you, eventually came to accept your choice. So it shouldn’t bother you or anyone else anymore.

"So, I don’t think you’ve ever openly talked about your relationship with Pedro Pascal after making it official. Is it okay if we discuss it?"

The podcast host smiled at you, and you let out an embarrassed laugh, shrugging.

"Why not?"

"How did you two meet?"

"We worked on the same movie, so we were constantly together on set. One thing led to another."

"And you never thought, like, ‘Wow, he’s way too old for me,’ since there’s a significant age gap?"

"Twenty-six years, isn’t it?" Another host interrupted.

"Didn’t he say in an interview that he wouldn’t date anyone with more than a 20-year age difference? Doesn’t that make you curious about what changed?"

"Well, when we met, I didn’t think much about it, and I don’t think he did either. Yes, he mentioned that he wouldn’t date someone with a 20-year age gap. But I’ve always had a thing for DILFs, and he’s definitely one. One thing led to another, without either of us realizing it."

Your cheeks flushed as you spoke honestly, your eyes briefly catching your publicist’s approving thumbs-up from behind the glass.

"I think it’s much more about connection than anything tangible, you know? Our age difference is almost unnoticeable in our day-to-day life now."

"Pedro is, what, around 50 years old? Let’s not pretend it’s entirely unnoticeable." One of them chuckled, and you narrowed your eyes, frustrated at how your words were twisted.

"You’re young, clearly with the body of a 23-year-old, while he’s middle-aged. I think people are just curious about what made you stay." The other one chimed in, leaning toward the mic. You smiled politely, glancing between the camera and the hosts.

"Maybe the real question is what makes him stay. He had a firm opinion, and suddenly, it changed. Pedro has the purest and most beautiful soul in the world. He laughs at his own dad jokes, he shows me things I’d never imagined because he’s from 1975, and he’s a man with a capital M who treats me like the last rose petal in the universe. So, honestly, if he ever agrees to do an interview with you, maybe you should ask him what makes him stay.

"After the podcast aired, what you thought would be a calm discussion turned into a social media battleground. People twisted your words and intentions.

"A man taking care of a child—what nonsense."

"Really, ask him why he stays because she’s unbearable."

"Did she call his jokes ‘dad jokes’? Who does that to their boyfriend? RUN, PEDRO!"

"She’s just after his money."

"The most boring woman in the world is with the hottest man alive. How does that even happen?"

"She has nothing to offer him. Relax, ladies, it won’t last three more months."

"Dakota Johnson seemed interested in him; I wouldn’t be surprised if he ditches this corn husk for her."

"If I knew he was into younger women, I’d have listed a hundred better options than Y/N."

"Wait, guys—he didn’t even take her to the Gladiator premiere. How serious do you think this is?"

It was exhausting. Even though you avoided reading the comments, they popped up everywhere, and all the therapy you’d done to maintain a stable mental health seemed to be slipping through your fingers. But Pedro couldn’t know, so you plastered on a sweet smile whenever you saw him, even as doubts began to creep in.

Maybe you really were the worst option for him. Maybe someone older, with similar experiences, would be better. Someone more mature, less bubbly and silly.Sitting in the car, you stared blankly out the window as Pedro talked about the Gladiator premiere—the one you hadn’t attended because you weren’t invited.

"Hey, are you okay?" It wasn’t that you weren’t listening. You just didn’t have much to say, so you let him keep talking.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Go on."

Your smile didn’t falter, and you silently thanked yourself for being a good actress.

"No, you’re not fine. What’s wrong?"

"Of course I am. It must’ve been surreal, babe. Even Dakota Johnson was there, right?"

"Yeah, but what’s wrong with you?" His eyes left the road momentarily to glance at you. You shook your head.

"Nothing. You’re just imagining things." You leaned over, cupped his face in your hands, and pressed a kiss to his lips before pulling away.

"Eyes on the road, old man."

"Okay, but I thought I was your daddy."

He exaggeratedly rolled his eyes as if offended. You loved that about him—the way he was so expressive and dramatic, some might call it embarrassing, but you found it endlessly entertaining.

"You know when you’re my daddy," you said with a mischievous smile, swallowing the rising bitterness in your throat. That night was the last time you slept at his place. Over the following days, you insisted on being dropped off at home, and Pedro didn’t argue. He simply observed your strange behavior.

At first, he thought you might be pregnant and unsure about what to do. But then he remembered you weren’t the type to hide something like that. He considered that maybe you were overwhelmed with your new projects, but you usually loved talking about them. And then, his thoughts landed on your relationship. Had he done something wrong? He couldn’t pinpoint anything.

Five days later, the two of you were at a dinner with friends. Everything was going well until it wasn’t.

"Hey, Y/N, why didn’t I see you at the premiere? I thought I’d catch a glimpse of you in a glorious dress," Lux, Pedro’s sister, asked.

Your cheeks burned, and your heart raced with nervous discomfort. Were you supposed to admit you hadn’t been invited? No. Your mom had taught you better than that.

"I…" A nervous laugh escaped your lips as you shifted uncomfortably in your chair. You didn’t dare look at Pedro beside you, though you could feel his guilty puppy-dog eyes on you. You wouldn’t give in.

"I had some things tied up with the script for the movie. It was a hectic week."

In reality, the script had been finalized, and even if the writer had faced complications, you’d have found time to support your boyfriend and contribute new ideas to the director.

"Ah, really? What a shame. I hope everything’s okay now," Lux said.

"Oh, it’s all sorted," you replied, forcing a smile.Your smile faltered briefly when Pedro’s hand tried to find yours under the table. Clearing your throat, you stood up, announcing that you needed to use the restroom.When you returned, Pedro was chatting with one of his friends, and you were grateful he was too preoccupied to bring up the earlier conversation.

"Wow, did you do something with your hair? It looks blonder, or is it just me?" Hazel, one of Pedro’s friends’ girlfriends, asked politely.

"Yeah, I did. Amelia’s amazing," you replied.

"Oh my gosh, give me her number, please. I need something this stunning."

"Of course, I’ll even book you an appointment if you want."

"It’s impressive how an older man managed to snag someone as beautiful and sweet as you," Lux teased. Normally, you would’ve laughed it off, but everything felt different that night. You chuckled falsely, smiling as you’d been doing all week.

"Oh, come on, stop that," Pedro said, sounding uneasy. He could sense your odd mood.Of course, you were acting strange.

Everything had been strange lately.

Later, in the car, your gaze rested on your hands in your lap while you felt Pedro’s eyes boring into the side of your face.

"Honey—"

"If we could not talk about this now, I’d be much happier. Can you just take me home?"

"You know I want to—"

"Pedro."You turned to him, tired of pretending. Your voice was tense, and he immediately understood how serious it was. You never called him by his name. "Stop." Your tone wasn’t angry or annoyed, just lifeless. That terrified him. Women didn’t usually scare him. At nearly 50 years old, he thought he’d learned to handle these situations.

"I’m sorry, okay."

His gaze returned to the road, while you looked out the window, waiting to get home.

As you were arriving, you realized he wasn't taking you to your house but to his instead. Closing your eyes, you let out a sigh and covered your face with both hands.

"What are you doing?" The words came out muffled as you felt him slow down.

"Going home."

"This is the way to your house."

"My house is your house, darling."

"You know what I mean," you whispered, exhausted.

"I thought you didn’t want to go. That it would be too much pressure for you, that... that you wouldn’t want people talking."

You heard him lament, and biting your lip, you sniffled. You tried hard not to act childish in the situation, looking up and taking a deep breath, reminding yourself not to let the tears fall.

"I know," was all you managed to reply before your voice broke.

"I... I just need to think for a bit."

"Think... right. Think about what?"

"Can you please take me home?" Pedro nodded at that and drove to your building. For the first time, he felt a strange haze between the two of you.

"Thank you." Even in the awkwardness, there you were, sweet as ever. Pedro could never deny how much he appreciated that about you—the way you always thanked everyone for everything. You were so pure. "Anytime." You opened the car door and stepped out, but before you entered the building, Pedro got out and called after you.

"I'm sorry. And I love you." That’s what he said before you turned to look at him with sad eyes—the same expression you wore when you thought he had forgotten to pick you up for a date, only to find out he was planning a surprise trip to Chile.That night, Pedro went home with his tail between his legs. When Lux called him in the morning, he couldn’t have felt worse.

"You look like one of the infected from The Last of Us. Gross."Lux teased as Pedro rubbed his face with his left hand."What do you want?"

"Wow. Rude."

"Sorry, I didn’t sleep. Just tell me why you’re calling me at six in the morning."

"I was thinking about how you said Y/N was acting strange, and I agree. Last night, she was quieter than usual. Pero luego empecé a preguntarme: ¿la invitaste al estreno? Porque se puso muy rara después de que lo mencioné y estaba revisando los comentarios..." ( But then I started wondering—did you invite her to the premiere? Because she got all weird after I brought it up, and I was checking the comments...)

"Ya te dije que no revises los comentarios. La gente está loca". (I already told you not to check the comments. People are insane.)

Pedro rolled his eyes, sighed, and collapsed onto the couch, exhausted. You and Pedro had talked about ignoring online negativity countless times. Neither of you usually cared about it. You weren’t starting now, were you?

"Lo sé, lo sé, pero se están portando fatal con ella. Y al no invitarla, la gente pensó que la estaban dejando de lado". ( I know, I know, but they’re being awful to her. And not inviting her made people think you were sidelining her.)

Lux sounded worried, almost angry.

"Eso es ridículo. Yo nunca haría algo así. Ella lo sabe. "(That’s ridiculous. I’d never do that—she knows that.)

"La compararon con Dakota Johnson. No es justo, son completamente diferentes. Dijeron que te cansarías de la 'niña'. Sabemos que es más madura que la mayoría de las mujeres, pero aún es joven". ( They compared her to Dakota Johnson. It’s not even fair—they’re completely different. They said you’ll get tired of the ‘kid.’ We know she’s more mature than most women, but she’s still young. )

Pedro propped his elbows on his knees and sighed. You had never acted immaturely. You never made rash decisions or threw tantrums over small things. You never picked fights or complained about work or friends. People didn’t know anything about your relationship—how could they?

"¿Crees que está preocupada? "(Do you think she’s worried)

"La mujer está intentando mantener la compostura y alejarse antes de que la abandones, como todos han estado diciendo". (The woman’s trying to hold herself together and pulling away before you ditch her like everyone’s been saying.)

Lux sighed and continued,

"Deberías haber escuchado cómo habló de ti en ese podcast. Nadie más sería así, no como ella. Haz algo. ( You should’ve heard how she talked about you on that podcast. No one else would be like that—not like her. Do something. )

Fuck. Pedro thought. He’d be stuck working all day, knowing you were likely asleep now. As the day went on, you ignored his missed calls. Not as an act of immaturity but because you needed personal space. You planned to talk to him eventually, but your phone felt like a weight you couldn’t bear. Instead, you threw yourself into work, ensuring every detail was perfect.Later, your group decided to go out for dinner, and you joined to keep your mind occupied. You loved them all but remained mostly a listener. Exhausted from a sleepless night, you struggled to follow the conversation, though you smiled at their stories.After dinner, you excused yourself to the restroom. As you washed your hands, you overheard two women talking in mocking tones.

"Do you think it’s a PR stunt?"

You frowned, listening as the other responded,

"It must be. I mean, it’s all over the news, and she’s playing the sad little girl role."

"Yeah, right? He used to call someone 25 a kid, and now he’s with a 23-year-old? Ridiculous."

"Did you see the photo of him with Dakota at the bar?"

"What? When?"

"Today, about an hour ago. She was kissing his cheek, and even if it’s for the movie, I doubt it. They weren’t even working."

"Think he’ll trade her in?"

"She won’t last ten days."

You grabbed your phone and opened Twitter. The first thing you saw was the photo of him and Dakota. He had that drunken smile on his face as she wrapped her arms around his neck. You weren’t the jealous type, fully aware of how PR worked in Hollywood, but it still stung.You washed your hands, turned to face them, and said,

"At least I’m more than a nameless extra without a single line. The only roles your venomous tongues will land you are in adult films, and not the Pearl kind—cheap, disgusting ones. Have a good night.

"With that, you left, hailed a cab, and went home. Fighting back tears, you repeated to yourself, Don’t cry. It’s just a picture. You ignored him all day, so stop acting like this.But for the first time, you cried over something like this.

Your head ached, and with the tip of your nose red, you picked up the phone and called him—without thinking too much, without wrestling with your thoughts. You just did what you felt needed to be done.The first call went straight to voicemail, and even though the thought of not wanting to humiliate yourself for him crossed your mind, you ignored it, knowing you were the one who had lost ground first. On the second call, your phone was answered, and the muffled sound made you swallow hard—he was out of the house.

“Hey.”

Your voice came out low, and you heard some murmurs on the other side, blending with loud conversation.

“Hello?”

A woman’s voice called from the other side, and you grimaced. “Uh, hi. Is Pedro there?”

“Uh, he’s kind of busy right now,” she said.

“Busy…” you repeated softly. “Who are you?”

“Carly.”

Carly? Who the hell is Carly? you thought immediately.

“Then tell him I called, Carly.”

“And you are…?” The mocking tone in her voice irritated you, and your expression was far from pleasant.

“A friend. Tell him a friend called.”

“Great.” She hung up without saying anything else, and you wrapped yourself in your own cocoon of blankets that didn’t warm you like Pedro did.Suits was playing on TV while you avoided going to bed, eventually falling asleep without even realizing it. Around 3 a.m., frantic knocks on your door startled you awake, making you look warily down the hallway. The doormen usually informed you of anyone coming to your floor.

Cautiously, you peeked through the peephole and saw him there, rubbing his face with his two hands, five times bigger than yours. You stopped, stepped back from the door, and sighed before opening it. Once you unlocked the door’s security latch, you looked at him and almost closed it again upon seeing your reflection, still wearing his shirt.

“It’s late. What are you doing here?” Your voice came out softly, and you saw Pedro stammer as he raised his hand in a nervous tic.

“A friend?”

“What?”

“Why did you say you were just a friend, sweetheart?” Pedro asked, stepping forward. You didn’t step back, only shrugged and gave a disheartened smile

.“She said you were busy. I thought it would be more… convenient than saying something else.”

“You’re something else. You’re my girlfriend. And my fiancée. And my wife. And I don’t care if you want to be the mother of my kids when I’m a hundred years old.”

He’s so drunk, you thought.

“How much tequila did you drink, Pedro?”

“The whole bottle.” He laughed, moving closer and gently touching your face. He’d always been gentle; being drunk didn’t change that.

“Please don’t tell me you’re breaking up with me.”

“I won’t say anything to you while you reek of cheap booze and cheap women.” You closed the door behind him and stepped away, heading to the hallway and your closet to grab a towel and clean clothes for him.

“Take a shower. If you sober up, we’ll talk.”

Pedro knew what you were thinking—that he’d gotten mad, drunk with his friends, and gone out with women named Carly. But he hadn’t done anything other than stare at the karaoke machine, hating every second he wasn’t there to mock what he was hearing.

“Everything’s cheap,” he laughed, following you.

“You know what isn’t cheap, Pedro? My patience. I haven’t slept well in over a week, and now it’s almost four in the morning, which means it’s been twenty minutes since you showed up at my door, and I don’t know why the hell you’re not naked yet.”

Your words left your mouth, and Pedro smiled at you.

“One day without you, and I forget how hot you are when you’re bossy and sleepy,” he slurred, making you laugh softly as you turned on the shower and pushed him into the bathroom.

“Don’t fall in there, please.”

Fifteen minutes after you pushed him inside, your eyes were heavy, and the strange way your body associated his presence with a different kind of rest annoyed you. Without realizing it, you fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in your blanket. It was as if your body said":

— Oh, it’s okay; Pedro’s home, so we’re safe,— but was your heart safe?When he saw you asleep there, the tequila had only left him dizzy—nothing a cold shower couldn’t fix. He approached and carried you to your room without thinking twice, whispering as he looked at your face:

“I’m so sorry, my preatty little thing.”

He laid you on the bed, and as he was about to leave, he heard you murmur:

“Stay. Please.”

Without hesitation, he lay beside you, pulling you against his chest and wrapping you both in a cocoon where it was just the two of you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you?” you murmured, burying your head in his neck and feeling his hands trail up your back.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I’m not the right person for you, sweetheart?” he emphasized, and you sighed.

“I’m scared of losing you when you realize I’m too young, too naïve, and haven’t even experienced half of what you have.”

“I don’t even know why you’re thinking that. I’m the one who’s old. You’re perfect, intelligent, hot, and extremely talented—a young woman who fell into the arms of an old man like me.”

“Yeah, but I think maybe one day you’ll want someone your own age, someone like Sarah or any of your exes. I think it’s okay if you get bored of me, start feeling ashamed, and—”

“Stop. Stop that.” Pedro cupped your face, pulling it from his neck and making you look into his eyes. Your hands rested on his chest as you stared at him, and with a disheartened smile, Pedro caressed your face, clearly upset. When had your relationship reached such a fragile state?

“I didn’t take you to the premiere because the press is cruel. They’d talk about you, probably reinforce the rumors, and talk about me—call me a disgusting creep. I was going to take you, but all of our advisors told me not to risk exposing you in a bad light. I… I would never feel ashamed of you, for God’s sake. Look at you. A woman of any age wouldn’t hold a candle to you in a million years.”

Sniffling, you climbed onto his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck. Pedro sat on the bed, hugging you back, his hand resting gently on your waist.

“You don’t need to worry about anything. Whatever was written about you was a lie. God, I don’t think I even know how to live without you by my side anymore.”

You laughed, and a smile appeared on his lips.

“You don’t need to worry either. Other men lost their appeal the moment you wanted me.”

“That’s good, sweetheart.”

His hand traveled to the back of your neck, his large fingers running through your hair.

“And who was Carly?”

“A friend of the group.”

" And why did she have your cell phone?"

" It stayed on the table because I focused on looking at it for five to five minutes waiting for you to send me a message. "

“And the photo?”

He knew what you were referring to, and when he took it, he hadn’t expected it to reach you before you two made up—if you made up.

“It was to promote the movie, sweetheart. Dakota’s engaged.”

He brushed your hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

“Hmm, alright.” You looked at him, tracing your fingers from his hair to his beard until they stopped at his mustache.

“Stop looking at me with those puppy-dog eyes. It makes you irresistible.”

“Like this?”

He did it again, and you laughed, kissing his lips immediately after.

“Mm-hmm, like that.”

You murmured against his lips as he smiled at you, and you whispered,

“I love you.”

“I love you more, sweetheart. Just you.”

Pedro pulled you close, laying you back against the soft mattress, kissing you as if it were the last moment of your lives. At least, that’s what both of you hoped.

÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷÷

I apologize if there are any mistakes in this writing. I didn't proofread it with the best eyes.

Requests are open

[ssweeterthanfiction]

Hii love your writing obsessed with I wish I hated you 💋💋 wanted to request a Finnick x capitol reader where it’s him breaking in to find reader sneaking around the house at night behind peacekeepers, he was sent by the rebels to capture reader to use her to threaten snow but she is on their side and goes willingly, maybe her falling for Finnick during the escape. Keep in mind since she is close to snow by blood that means she wasn’t exposed to a lot of people so even if she is for the right cause she is naive so her love might be obsession or reliance but I mean it all works out in the end. Anyways other thank that ik I said it but I love how you write Finnick!

omg thank so so much girly💗💗 i always love whenever people enjoy my writing!! and oh i love this idea sm (THIS IS PROBABLY GONNA BE A 2 PART THING)

‘I Can See You’

finnick odair x capitol fem reader

masterlist

You'd made it a habit of sneaking around, something about it always felt so freeing. Ever since the rebels had satrted making moves against the Capitol, your grandfather, President Snow, had uped the presence of guards in the mansion. Everywhere you went, the halls would be lined with guards posted at every window, at every exit, at every entrance. You felt trapped, but you couldn't complain too much, you were trapped in a luxorious mansion whilist the people in the districts suffered the wrath of your grandfather.

You hated watching the coverage of the districts, but you're grandfather forced you to. He knew you hated it, but he hoped that you would let go of you naivety that way you could learn how to keep control of the districts, that way when it came time, you could stand in a place of power.

But you didn't want power, you wanted peace. You hated seeing the people suffer, the people that the Capitol were supposedely in charge of. You hoped the rebels would win this war.

You were sneaking around the house again. Tiptoeing around every peacekeeper on guard, your silk slippers making no noise as you did.

But something was different about tonight. Everything felt quieter. Like you were being watched. But whenever you would turn your head, no one would be there. You brushed the feeling off and turned the corner to make your way to the rose gardens, but once you did, thats when a hand clamped over your mouth. You let out a muffled gasp as you were pulled against a broad chest. You struggled a bit as the person pulled you into the shadows of the hallways.

"Don’t scream," the voice hissed in your ear.

You stopped struggling as the hand slowly withdrew from your mouth. You spun around, fully ready to call out for help or to run away, but all thoughts of escape stopped as you looked up at the person.

Finnick Odair. The Capitol Darling, now a rebel.

You had seen him before at events, but you had never spoken to him before. You were used to seeing him in flashy Capitol attire, now here he was in tactical gear.

"Finnick?" you whispered, your voice shaky but dripping with awe.

Finnick tilted his head, watching you carefully, his expression unreadable. “You know who I am. Good. That saves time.”

"I-I mean, of course I know who you are," you stammered, your cheeks flushing. "Everyone knows you. You’re... you’re Finnick Odair. Capitol Darling turned...rebel"

His lips twitched, but the hint of amusement didn’t reach his eyes. “Then you know I don’t have time to explain.” He reached for her wrist, his grip firm. “You’re coming with me.”

Your brows knit together, “Coming with you? Why? Where?”

"I don't have time to explain. So we can do this the easy way and you can either come with me willingly, or," he pulls out a tranquilizer, "We can do this the more...difficult way. Your choice honey."

Your mind rushed with thoughts, if you went with him you would be leaving the comfort of the mansion.

But it dawned on you. You would be leaving the mansion.

"I'll go with you."

Finnick smirks, "Good girl. Good choice." he says pocketing the tranquilizer. "Stay close and don’t make a sound. Keep quiet."

Finnick’s hand wrapped around your wrist as he began moving swiftly through the shadows. You struggled to match his pace, your silk slippers slipping slightly on the polished floors. Every creak of the floorboards, every distant murmur of Peacekeepers made your heart race, but Finnick didn’t falter.

"Where are we going?" you whispered.

Finnick shot you a look, his expression stern. "Didn’t I say no talking?"

You blushed from embarassment, "I'm sorry- I've just- I haven't been allowed to leave this place in a long time."

"I know," he interrupted, his tone softening just slightly. "That’s why you need to trust me and stay quiet."

You nodded, swallowing the lump in your throat as he turned another corner.

It wasn’t long before the two of you reached a back entrance you’d never noticed before. Finnick paused, pressing his ear to the door. "Come on," he whispered, tugging you forward as he opened the door, but the moment he did he saw a group of peacekeepers coming down the hall.

"Shit." he whispered under his breath, pushing you through the exit as he quickly closed the door.

He pressed you against the wall, his body shielding yours as he peeked through the crack to watch the Peacekeepers’ movements.

"Stay still," he whispered, his voice low but commanding.

You nodded and held your breath, you could practically hear your heart pounding against your chest, and you were sure Finnick could hear it too because he was looking down at you with...a look. You couldn't exactly figure out what he was thinking, but he was definitely thinking of...something.

The muffled sound of boots echoed through the hallway on the other side of the door. Finnick pulled back, taking your hand as he led you deeper into the shadows of outside.

"Do you even have a plan?" you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady.

Finnick shot you a sharp look but didn’t stop moving. "Yes. Step one: get you out of here alive. Step two: worry about the rest later."

"That doesn’t sound very reassuring," you muttered under your breath.

Finnick let out a soft, humorless chuckle. "Welcome to the rebellion."

As you both maneuvered through the courtyard, there was complete silence.

"Why take me?" you ask suddenly, "To hurt Snow?"

Finnick paused, glancing back at you with a raised brow. "What?"

"Why risk everything to get me? I'm...not that important to him, he thinks I'm a lost cause."

"You’re more important than you think. The rebels need leverage, and you’re it. You’re Snow’s blood. If we can use you, we could end this war."

You swallowed hard, the weight of his words settling on your shoulders.

Finnick’s gaze softened slightly as he noticed your unease. "Look, I know this is a lot, but you’re doing the right thing. You’re on the right side now."

You nodded, unsure if it was reassurance or simply Finnick’s presence that made you feel safe.

He tugged your hand gently. "Come on. We’re not safe yet."

As the two of you approached the outer edge of the courtyard, Finnick stopped abruptly, holding up a hand to silence you. The faint hum of a hovercraft’s engines grew louder in the distance.

"Is that...?" you started to ask, but Finnick shook his head, cutting you off.

"Not ours," he said grimly.

Your stomach dropped as the spotlight of a Capitol hovercraft swept across the grounds, illuminating the pristine gardens.

Finnick pulled you close, his arm wrapping protectively around you as he ducked behind a large hedge. "Stay low," he whispered.

You huddled close to him, your heart racing as the spotlight came dangerously close. The warmth of Finnick’s body against yours was oddly comforting, even more so when he wrapped his arms tighter around you.

"Good girl," Finnick said quietly as he kept you low.

His words sent an unexpected warmth through you again, and you found yourself wanting to impress him, to earn more of his approval.

As the hovercraft finally moved away, Finnick let out a breath he’d been holding and looked down at you, brushing a stray hair out of your face. "You okay?"

You nodded, "I think so."

"Good," he said, helping you to your feet. "Let's keep moving."

You both kept moving but then Finnick stopped abruptly, holding up a hand to signal you to be quiet. His expression was hard, calculating, eyes flicking back to the mansion in the distance.

"What's wrong?"

Finnick’s gaze flickered toward the front gate, where a squad of Peacekeepers stood guard. The front gate was heavily fortified, and with the increased military presence lately, you knew escaping through there would be nearly impossible.

With a swift motion, he reached for a small device tucked in his belt, his fingers working expertly as he adjusted the settings. He looked at you, his eyes serious but with a glint of something like reassurance. "Get down," he ordered, his voice low.

"Finnick, what are you-"

Before you could even finish your sentence, he threw the device at the gate and quickly shielded you with his body.

The sound of the explosion tore through the silence of the night, the force of it rattling your bones. The entire front gate of the mansion was engulfed in a cloud of smoke and fire, sending debris scattering in all directions. You could already hear the shouts of peacekeepers and the sound alarms blaring in the distance.

"We need to go now" he gripped your wrist tightly and pulled you along again. His pace was unrelenting, and despite the fear that was settling in your chest, you had no choice but to keep up.

"You’ll be fine," Finnick murmured, his voice steady despite the chaos surrounding you. "I won't let anything happen to you."

Your breath hitched in your throat. You felt butterflies in your stomach. You're his mission. His protection was overwhelming, and you wanted more.

[imblueeforyuu]

yandere frontman x male player reader

a/n i wrote this when i was high as shit and had to spend to much time editing it i want to kms

Your hole in the wall corner store was going bankrupt, you were millions in debt and your life was falling apart. This store has been in your family tree since forever, it was your family's pride and joy. And you were ruining it,  Of course you were. the one thing you had to live for was being taken from you. You were ashamed and embarrassed. Why did you have to be the one to ruin your family business? You felt hopeless, there was no way you could continue to live like this, i mean it wouldn’t be selfish to kill your self, right? You have no family to take on the debt you created, so it’s fine. Maybe it was best to take the cowards way out. Someone stopped you though, on your way back home a strange business man stopped you and offered to pay you if you played a simple game of Ddakji, you couldn’t turn that down, no way. In the end you managed to make half a million won, which was not nearly enough but you were out of options. The strange man gave you a card and went on his way. 

With nothing better to do with your already broken life you decided to join this game. You didn’t expect to win, god no, you just wanted to try something so you could say you really did attempt to make some money, and you didn’t just give up. 

You woke up with a quick breath, you look around quietly, you notice a 002 on your uniform. Interesting, were you the second person to join this game? Whose the first, they had to be more desperate than you to join so fast. You had a personal mission now, to find this number 1 guy.. You crawled out of your bed to start your search. Everyone was either waking up or still asleep. This would be your perfect opportunity to find this guy, or girl. You looked around for a good while and found nothing. It wasn't until the masked guards took you to the first game you gave up. You don’t know why you're so interested in this man you're sure it’s just some boring fat old man. you were so incredibly focused on finding this guy you didn’t realize people were dying around you. Well you did but it really didn’t matter to you. On the walk back you noticed something, your number 001! And two guards leading him to the line of players, why was he with them? Maybe he got separated but you doubt it. You are definitely going to keep an eye on him now. 

“Hey your number one,” you stated, you really weren’t good with interactions. your dad always used to tell you that your awkwardness was what was going to run the store to the grave, and it really did. 

“Oh, yes I am,” he said looking into your eyes. You stare back looking at every detail of his face. He was older but definitely still attractive. He didn't look like he belonged, he had the look of someone more well off. You glare slightly before continuing walking. You felt his stare bore into the back of your head.

Next was voting, you pressed O, you did want to continue the game. Why would you want to stop here, it was fun, and easy. It was just kid's games. It had been awhile since you were a kid  but you're sure you still had it in you. You went back to your bed and sat observing, there was a group of people surrounding the person claiming they’ve played this before, You can’t blame them who wouldn't be intrigued? you also noticed a purple hair guy and his little minion pick a fight with some other guy. Boring, what wasn’t boring was the reaction of a certain number one. He was really interesting, first he supposedly worked with the guards and now you've learned he's really good at combat. Maybe he was secretly a guard, or some type of spy, you needed to gather more information on him. You look around the room and notice player 456, the crazy one. Maybe he knew something. 

Your chat with him was unsuccessful, player 001 came back, the very person you wanted to gossip about. Maybe you didn’t want to talk about him exactly, still if he was someone important and noticed you trying to get more information you're pretty sure he’ll have you killed. Unintentionally you’ve found yourself part of 456s group. You tried to slip away when 001 came back but you were too slow. Fuck now you were stuck interacting with this creep. 

The time the second game happened you’re so done with these people. Player 001 whose name you've learned to be Young-il especially, he made you feel nervous, it’s probably all in your head that he’s a spy or something. You’ve done this before; get it in your head someone’s out to get you when they're really innocent. But there's definitely something off about this guy. 

6 legs was pretty much boring, you split away from  gi-huns group as soon as the opportunity came. You don’t dislike the group by any means but they were loud, you've always been so introverted.  Maybe you were just jealous, you probably were.

“002,” 388 came up to your bed with the rest of the group following behind . You peel your eyes open, god you're not ready to talk to them.

“Yes?”

“Where did you go?”

“I lost you guys,”

You probably shouldn’t make them hate you especially because they were your ticket to a good amount of money, even though they were against the games they were smart. And strong. Perfect for victory. They started talking about voting and you could care less. you wanted to keep these games going. 

Mingle was annoying, you were the last pick of the group. When it finally was time for two players, young-li grabbed your Hand. You expected him to pick gi-gun who was practically his boyfriend, but no he picked you. When you got to the room you didn’t expect someone to already be there. You were at a loss. Maybe it would be best if you just walked out. But young-il can never not shock you? He grabbed that poor man and snapped his neck. You were shocked but that proves your suspicion, this man was not who he seemed. 

It was Time for gi-huns master plan. To fight back, you didn’t have the heart to tell this delusional old man there was no way he would win but you did have a use for this. Finally proving that number one was evil. You were going to wait and see him betray them, but You decide to join the raid and follow in the back. When it was time to go to the front office you joined young-il and the group that went with him. You said you were going to stay with 456 and 390 but secretly followed behind him and his group. You saw everything, him shooting the people with him, him pretending he died and his smirk at the camera. You smile. perfect.

“Got you.” You raised your gun to face him. He didn’t seem to take you seriously, he smiled softly before moving closer. You glare.

“Back up,” you yell, you clutch the trigger. 

You shouldn’t have let your guard down so quickly, you saw him reach to put his gun down. Seeing him submit you released your grip on the trigger just a little bit. He must have seen you relax, because Out of nowhere he grabbed his gun again and shot your leg. You fall over unable to hold yourself up. You saw young-il move closer towards you until he was standing right by your head. He crouched down before smiling even wider. You look into his eyes, you were expecting anger not pure bliss in your bloody weak body. Your world went black.

When you woke up you noticed you were on an uncomfortable leather couch. Your head was propped up on a pillow. Your eyes were still somewhat blurry. You reach to rub the blurriness out but you notice your hands were tied. You try not to panic just yet but that fails miserably. You look around desperately and wiggle around, unintentionally knocking something off a table, ouch now your leg hurts. You freeze for a moment, damn it now your kidnapper knew you were awake. The elevator door dings causing you to flinch, fuck time was running out. Quickly you rush to hide somewhere. Unfortunately your feet and hands were tied so there was not much you could do. Of course besides rolling. You quickly roll under the couch which fortunately was tall enough for you to fit under but damn, rolling off the couch must have reopened your gunshot wound , you almost scream in pain. You heard the clicking of dress shoes come closer, they stop for a moment before continuing. They stop right at the front of the couch before the owner of the pair of expensive shoes starts to talk

“You know your feet are showing,” young-il, if that even was his name, said. You kept quiet even though you knew it wouldn’t help at all. 

“You can come out,” he paused before continuing. “I’m not going to hurt you, I just want to talk.”  

Talk my ass. There is no way he just wanted to talk, if so why would he kidnap you? Yes, maybe you held a gun to him but still. You crawl out from under the couch, Or well wiggle out. When you finally managed to get out you saw young-il he was drinking a glass of whiskey. You were still on the floor wiggling around trying to free yourself from the rope. Young-il stood up and crouched by you. 

“What happened to all your confidence? You were so sure of yourself with that toy gun of yours,” he smirked and started to pat your head. You flinch and scrunch your face. 

“Fuck you,” you glare.

“Sh [name],” your eyes widened, you don’t remember telling him your name. But if he was the mastermind behind this you guess he would know your name after all. It still did disturb you. He disturbed you. The way he smiled, the way he crouched, and how he patted your head. There was something off about him, I mean of course there was. You felt helpless, he had tied you up and was treating you like a child. You spit at him, what else could you do? You were helpless, ok? That seemed to make him mad, good. He stood up abruptly and stared down at you. He kicked you swiftly. the middle of your back hit the leg of the couch. You winced and curled up into a ball. 

“What the fuck do you want from me,” you glare at the floor. You were still in the ball and your voice was low. You're not sure he could hear you. 

“Hm, you.” you heard the leather of the couch crinkle as he sat. What did he mean by you? Why Did he want you? You were just a failing business owner, you were about to end it when you were invited to these games. Maybe he liked that stuff? You hugged your legs closer, being careful of your wound. Why the fuck did you have to be so interested in him? 

[the-clock-of-the-time-dragon]

So we're doing this, lol. Okay.

He is a double agent.

Literally just headcanon. As I said. Like, I think it's a GOOD headcanon — as I also said — but even you admit that it requires heavy inference and conjecture to claim that he did anything to help Animals; and slipping in "I don't think of her as a Wicked Witch" and wanting to push back against the more insane rumors is not being a double agent (which would require actual action), it's being a known contrarian and former friend of hers. As I explained to begin with: his quest to find her is not evidence of some kind of revolutionary activity behind the scenes — it's evidence that he wanted to personally reunite with her, which is exactly what his actions led to.

Fiyero knows this, by placing himself here he is in the best position both to protect Elphaba but also protect the Animals in the regime.

He didn't do either of those things though. Like, I fully believe that he wanted Elphaba unharmed (obviously) and that he had some qualms with rounding up the Animals... but he literally volunteered for the Harm Elphaba and Round Up the Animals Brigade, and there is zero evidence he did anything to undermine them until she finally showed up in the Wizard's palace unexpectedly.

Given he used the first opportunity, when they wouldn’t get in trouble, to help the Lion Cub it seems a pretty good inference that he was trying to send out warnings to Animals when he could (especially now the movieverse has made him the only character aside from Elphaba who is friends with an Animal – he probably even has a network he can tap into!).

I would like to see that fleshed out in the second movie, yes — because I agree it would be in character, but on stage, we're left to just hope that he did that (albeit his hypothetical offscreen attempts to help Animals still seem objectively outweighed by his actions that harmed them, so — again, as I said — his having sympathy for them doesn't seem to have stopped him from knowingly doing a lot more harm than good).

IDK about you, but I think if I were to search for someone wanted and was given the opportunity to both have the best resources and information to find her and hamper people who might find her and hurt her, I would totally do it this way too.

Saying you'd totally join the Gestapo instead of the Resistance if given the chance — because of "resources and information" — is not the winning argument you think it is, I'm sorry, lol. Like, if he'd already been a soldier before he realized it was fashy, that might make a bit more sense. If that were the case, then yeah he should've become a double agent! But as it is, it kinda just seems like you're making a lot of excuses for why volunteering to do fascism is justified as long as you feel bad about it and (speculatively) tried to sabotage it (with no evident success whatsoever). I would truly love to believe in Double Agent Fiyero, and I hope that's the direction the second movie goes with him: but I also really liked the Amoral Nihilist Fiyero we got on stage. You keep acting like I'm denigrating him as a character, but I can only express so many times that I'm not. He's a great character: just not a great guy imho.

I know we don’t see him helping the Animals, but nor do we really see Elphaba doing so?

No, we don't see Elphaba doing stuff to help Animals onstage (albeit, as I've said, there don't really seem to be any free Animals left by the time we get to Act II), but there are at least direct statements that she's been involved with the Animal resistance. There isn't even an implication that Fiyero tried to do that, let alone did. You're basing your interpretation of his character on speculation — because it is somewhat difficult, in some ways, to reconcile the compassionate boy we saw in the woods with the fascist commander he's become by Act II — but I'm basing my reading on sheer text; on the actions and statements on the page. Regardless of whether you choose to think he was secretly doing a ton of anti-regime work behind the scenes, I just don't think (as I've said) that the preponderance of his behavior really justifies that. Because at the very least he was still choosing to swallow his compassion and do fascist stuff at the same time, and in the end those were the actions that objectively shaped the future of Oz, not the imagined attempts at sabotage he may or may not have done. Either way, he's interesting, but his actions are hard to defend.

Does this mean he didn’t commit atrocities? No probably not. But bear in mind if he hadn’t been doing it, someone else would have.

Yikes...

He literally succeeded in the exact goal he was planning by joining the Gale Force: to protect Elphaba.

But he didn't protect Elphaba. He couldn't even fuckin find her, lol. She protected herself. While he was actively participating in the violent repression that she hated more than anything in the world.

If he hadn’t been Captain of the Guard in the throne room when the Wizard called his guards she would have been captured and killed, instead she escaped which eventually allowed the Wizard to be overthrown and Elphaba’s values to be acted on in the form of Glinda ruling.

None of which was REMOTELY planned, or even likely. Granting for the sake of argument that she would definitely have been captured and/or killed had he not been in that exact place at that exact time — I'm not convinced of that — if we're really gonna try these long-term domino effect arguments, then Glinda's questionable choice not to get on the broom was actually a heroic act that ultimately led to the liberation of Oz! Come on.

There is a difference between keeping quiet, not protesting a regime and actively endorsing it. Glinda was doing the latter and she was not forced into that. (She also was not helping undermine it the same way Fiyero was).

Yes, she was literally forced into that, lol. Claiming she wasn't forced into her position when she was literally captured and molded into an asset of the regime — and then moralizing about her trying to make the best out of her literal enslavement — whilst somehow insisting that Fiyero going out of his way to enlist as an armed servant of the regime wasn't "endorsing the regime", is actually absurd. Like, it's all well and good to believe his ulterior motives for joining make it okay, but to argue that the guy who volunteers to do the hands-on violent repression side of the regime is somehow "protesting it" because he said a couple things mildly out-of-step (so mild that he doesn't seem to have faced any official criticism for it whatsoever), while the girl we saw two seconds away from getting imprisoned or worse right before the intermission is "not forced into endorsing it"?? In what universe??

Madame Morrible made abundantly clear that the only thing keeping Glinda from being thrown to the wolves like Elphaba was serving as a pretty mouthpiece for the Wizard, and nothing more. I've got a whole list of decisions she actually, with little to no coercion, that I think are legitimately questionable. But you aren't even citing those: you're just victim-blaming because she didn't... suffer enough? Or signal against her abusers enough? Like YES, I will say there's a point where a victim can cross lines and become complicit to varying degrees in their own situation — she herself all but admits this — but unless we're going to talk specifically about those instances of dubiousness, it seems as if you're just blaming her for trying to make space for herself to breathe and not be miserable every waking moment of her... *checks notes*... forced servitude in the regime with absolute power over her life????? A victim trying to make the best of their terrible predicament is not a crime. And Glinda makes very clear that having to spread lies about Elphie is an abuse against her; it's a pain to her very soul. Saying it's her fault and that she wasn't forced into it is just... gross tbh.

But do not pretend for one moment that she is not actively complicit in this regime, with no real desire to stop it until it starts actively hurting her.

Yes, she got a lot of things that she wanted out of her arrangement. She is a complex character, after all. She's flawed. Certainly not the "perfect" victim. She also understands that Elphaba would want her to be safe and happy, and that silly (and outright wrong) rumors will not actually bring any more harm to Elphaba than what she already faces. It's a challenging situation, but Glinda chose to pursue a net positive approach: do her part to maintain her situation, make the best of it, and trust that one day Elphie would manage to set things right. She was incorrect — in the end, she had to be the one to do what Elphaba couldn't — but to claim that she was at fault for her own situation and could/should have done more to push back but just didn't want to enough (and moreover, that Fiyero somehow is NOT accountable for his much more violent, much more voluntary situation), is just perverse. The regime was actively hurting her the entire time; Fiyero certainly understands suffering and living one's best life at the same time, so don't act like it doesn't count for her.

He gave up his wealth, privilege and safety to ensure Elphaba escaped from the throne room and continued her cause (this isn’t about running away with Elphaba btw, he lost everything from the moment he pointed the gun at the Wizard). He was ready to die for her in the Corn Field scene. I don’t know what more you want him to do to prove that he was not shallow and he wouldn’t die for his cause in the exact same way Elphaba was prepared to?

He acted on spontaneous desire, as he always does, and is a nihilist who never gave a shit about any of the things (or people) he cast to the wind to begin with. "He lost everything" — and you expect me to find that brave and romantic, I take it? I don't. Throwing caution and care aside to run off and have a passionate night with the object of his affects isn't WRONG — and I've never said that it is — it's foolish and selfish and impulsive. And as I explained many times: I think it's cool that he's like that. But please do not expect me to accept your premise that these actions were deep and selfless. The actions of a depressive with nothing left to lose, recklessly pursuing the one and only object of obsession that keeps him going — irrespective of all other considerations, even hers — is actually shallow and selfish. It isn't a crime to act on passion or desperation or whatever, and as I've said, I think it's really interesting on multiple levels. Just because he's shallow doesn't mean he doesn't have layers; just not many. We can acknowledge his motives as essentially selfish and still respect that he defended her. I think we should be a little more critical and ALSO account for the consequences of his actions in ways that he did not. Why is that such a controversial suggestion?

Fiyero is the only character of the trio to put thoughts into his actions. He is the only one who doesn’t immediately act on his impulses.

Hard disagree. Like yeah, Elphaba and Glinda have their own brands and moment of impulsivity too — I wrote about it in my original post — but no, Fiyero does not think through shit. He doesn't think about the potential consequences of denouncing the rumors about Elphie; Glinda has to temper his impulse to do so. He doesn't think about the potential consequences of abandoning Glinda; for never cared about either his own safety or hers, only Elphie's. If you assume he joined in the army to be a double agent, then he clearly didn't think through or care about all the violence he was going to have to commit.

I'm not saying he isn't clever — his thoughtlessness is not a function of lacking intelligence, but of lacking concern — and I'm not saying he's reactive to denigrate him. Things happen around him, and if it's something that ignites his passion he acts boldly and fearlessly, with zero concern for anyone or anything outside of that moment. When he makes "plans", they're all very ad hoc and making resourceful use of situations that he absolutely did not (and could not) have planned for. Which is neat! Some find that bold, spontaneous, "she's all that I care for in this world" intense personality type romantic. I'm not one of them, but I can see the appeal; as I've acknowledged. I think it's a bit sad that he behaves that way tbh: because it speaks to his pretty hollow existence, as Elphaba herself identified.

[Wicked Act II spoilers]

[edited for tone and clarity of purpose, apologies for initial crudeness and frustration]

Okay, obviously I'm biased, but I'm gonna need the Fiyeraba shippers to please set a lot of your people straight about some things. I've seen way too many people trying to say that Glinda is just a selfish bimbo and that Fiyero is a virtuous and selfless figure more worthy of Elphaba's love. I'll set aside for now the idea of "worthiness" in this context. But let's start off with Fiyero joining the Wizard. Hoo boy...

Yes, he was initially somewhat less tolerant of the propaganda against Elphaba than Glinda was; yes, he was secretly trying to find her so he could run away with her or whatever. But honey: those facts DO NOT fully absolve his actions as the Wizard's top officer, or selfish recklessness throughout Act II. I see so many popular threads and posts romanticizing and whitewashing with "oh but he didn't REALLY join the Wizard, he just pretended so he could try to get to Elphie! It's all for love, and he sacrificed everything for her!" As if the literal captain of the literally fascist forces responsible for the oppression of Animals wasn't equally responsible for said oppression?? Hello? Fiyero really didn't think of seeking out Elphaba in ANY other way that DIDN'T involve becoming *checks notes*... the trusted leader of the troops committing all the abuses she's fighting against in the first place???? Like it's cool and all that he helped with Brrr, and it's all well and good that he planned on betraying the Wizard as soon as he found Elphaba (which took literal years, so I guess we're left to assume he was prepared to just keep doing fascism indefinitely if she didn't show up????), but uh... it's kind of concerning to how eager some of you are to make excuses for this dude volunteering as the head of the Ozian Gestapo??? smdh

He didn't accomplish anything from it either, by the way — like yeah, we get it, he did everything he did whilst silently fantasizing about running away with the Witch he was being paid to hunt. Fine. But I can't be the only one who doesn't buy that as an actual excuse???? Like, guys: nobody forced him to join the fascist army — even with crazy ulterior motives. He wasn't coerced into it; it wasn't his only choice or anything. Searching for Elphaba did not somehow compel him to go and volunteer to follow (or to give!) orders in the name of the dictator who was trying to have her assassinated the entire time. He could have just not done all that. (Genuinely so curious how the second film plans on covering that material tbh)

Glinda made several questionable decisions that can be (and have been) debated, but she is still very unambiguously a victim. Her position in the Wizard's regime was foisted upon her. There are things we can discuss, but I find that many folks need reminding that Glinda would undoubtedly have been disposed of (or worse) if she failed to make herself useful. I mean hell: she wasn't even supposed to meet the Wizard in the first place — she was only there because of Elphie. If she'd tried to resist, it would have immediately gotten her labeled the Witch's accomplice. As soon as she'd chosen not to get on the broom, her fate was out of her hands, and all available options were varying degrees of horrible.

That's not the case with Fiyero. He went to the Wizard all on his own; no one ever cornered or forced him into it. Thinking Animals are people, and having a crush on Elphaba, simply did not stop him from carrying out the regime's orders — for years. It's not clear exactly how long he's been captain at the start of Act II, but the clear implication is that he's been a soldier for most of the time skip. I've seen Fiyeraba accounts with headcanons about him acting as a double agent, secretly doing stuff to help Animals — and that's a great idea, it would indeed serve to make a lot of his actions way more palatable — but until we actually get to SEE some of that (maybe they'll add it for the movie version of Act II; we'll have to see), there is nothing in the story to suggest that. He certainly didn't do a damn thing for all those Animals who were enslaved and caged in the Wizard's palace — and we don't see a single other Animal outside of there in Act II, so as far as we know Fiyero has participated over those years in the near-total removal of Animals from Ozian society. In the name of "finding Elphaba". Not fighting for her cause. Just finding HER. For HIMSELF.

It's fine to have a ship you like, obviously — and there is genuinely a lot to like about Fiyeraba, I don't dislike the idea of them as a couple or as friends — but come on guys: please stop those out there idealizing Fiyero as somehow a clear "morally-superior" alternative to Glinda, lol. The dude had power, access, and opportunities, for years, that he could have wielded in any number of really selfless, revolutionary ways. He didn't. And I propose (apparently controversially): he simply didn't want to. And that — at the end of the day — is (much as some would like to deny it) true to his character. He always WANTED to be self-absorbed and shallow, and all his actions are consistent with that. Elphaba saw depth and discontentment in him, yes: but (and I cannot stress this enough) when given the chance, he channeled that in the wrong direction. He didn't confront that and become a better person — for the most part he just displaced and projected it onto Elphaba as an object of obsession, and put on an even thicker pretense than before.

All his actions — regardless of the complexity he has deep down — are those of a man who never gives one fuck about anything or anyone, except (kinda sorta) Elphaba. But even then: at no time does the care he has for her seem to extend to caring about any of her wants or needs outside of sexual validation from him, or how she might feel about his actions, or indeed the impacts of those actions upon her, her cause, or anyone or anything else. I don't think it should be all that controversial to say: he doesn't think through the wider repercussions of anything he does — thoughtlessness is just one of his core character traits. He doesn't think ahead or see meaning in anything outside of what can temporarily excite him, in the moment. I think people place a little too much weight on Elphaba clocking him with regard to his internal pain, and seem to expect (understandably of course) that she is not only right, but moreover that he will grow from that in a positive direction, based on her influence.

But he doesn't. If anything, we get a surprising inverse: he pretty much proves her wrong. Not to say he didn't have hidden depth and all that, like she said: but his hypothetical heart of gold proves not to really amount to much in practice. He doesn't grow out of his shallowness and his self-centeredness: he grows into it in a way that he hadn't quite yet in school. Where once he was only masking an internal listlessness, after he's been cracked open by Elphaba he decides to be genuinely self-absorbed and deeply shallow, not just coasting by. He performs in new ways — as a soldier, eventually as a "fiancé", etc. — but by Act II we meet a Fiyero who has staked the last remaining shred of humanity in him on the vain pursuit of the only object of his desire that has ever been unavailable to him, and firmly chosen to say to hell with everyone and everything else.

When put to the test, Fiyero sacrifices Glinda, the Animals, and all else that Elphaba actually cared about, to pursue his own unresolved crush from college. Mostly to get in her pants, really — as harsh as I'm sure that sounds. But let me be frank: that is literally all he ever accomplishes in the show. He gives her dick one time, and one of his castles, and that's it. That's the culmination of his years trying to find her — years in which he actively worked as one of the stormtroopers (or even the one commanding them) committing untold crimes against Animalkind (who, again, it seems have been all but erased from Oz by Act II): y'know, the very crimes Elphaba sacrificed her life to try and stop????? He spent the most important time of his life — of his own free will — being a fascist soldier, but he "did it for her" somehow, so according to some, it's perfectly fine. Heroic, even. Yikes??

But let's make something very clear (since my original version of this post caught a lot of flak, including slurs and other rudeness):

I like Fiyero. I find his role extremely interesting (I could do a whole dissertation on him, but I'm especially a fan of the way his proving Elphaba's assessment of him wrong presents a fascinating parallel and contrast with Glinda, which I think is lost on a lot of people). But PLEASE stop with all the misguided Glinda slander and idealization of Fiyero. By all means, thirst! But don't give me all this bullshit about him deserving Elphaba more, or being super deep, or being really principled or noble or whatever else. He does have layers, and quite intriguing ones, but his insides are straw — he isn't meant to have some deep, overwrought emotional core or motivations; he has passions that he acts upon when given the chance. That's it. And that's fine. Actually kind of refreshing in a story rooted in simple children's fantasy but rife with intensely complicated personalities. Fiyero makes it his mission to represent denial of depth and embrace of raw, spontaneous desire — and I for one love that, and wish others appreciated it.

And in all seriousness, shipping wars aside: by the end of the story, it's Glinda who is ultimately vindicated, and has — for all her faults — made the necessary choices to fulfill Elphaba's wishes, bring down the regime, etc. And all that despite herself. She's miserable: not just because of the mistakes she made, but because of her correct moves as well. Fiyero is simply not — and could never be — that person. And that's okay! Like I said: I am not anti-Fiyero. Fiyero's willingness to throw it all away for the sake of sheer, overriding passion is a huge part of what people like about him, of course — and it's an obvious factor in the attraction between him and Elphaba, because she has her own flavor of that impulse as well — but I'd actually argue that it's not romantic, it's his fatal flaw. And thematically that's fantastic! But I just don't believe that it somehow means he "deserves Elphaba more" because he "gave up his life for her" or whatever. In part because NOBODY truly "deserves" Elphie tbh, not 100% (and I question anybody who claims otherwise), but ultimately because I don't accept the idea that his fleeting acts of passion make up for all the shit leading up to them (or even proceeding after them tbh). At least Glinda managed to do what Elphaba always wanted in the end — but I would die on this hill even if Gelphie didn't exist.

You don't have to agree with my analysis of Fiyero and his choices, relationships, etc. — that's fine. What isn't fine is trying to portray Glinda as some kind of spineless traitor whore for the Wizard and Fiyero as a conscientious hero who earned Elphie through self-sacrifice. That's just not the story that was written. It's WAY messier and more interesting than that.

[mindless-existence1]

Shadow x fem or gn reader thats sonic’s sibling but they don’t mention it until they get together, how would Shadow and Sonic react? Thought this idea was funny (oneshot)

Idk if ur requests are open, but take your time !

I didn't realize I finished this so I was scrolling through my writing app and found it finished and girl I was shocked. Sorry it's gone so long without being posted 😅😅

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Shadow wasn’t the type to meet many people unless it was absolutely necessary. So when you brought up introducing him to your brother, he raised an eyebrow but didn’t argue, hed do anything if you said it nice enough.

The two of you had yet to start officially dating, you wanted to wait untill he at least knew your family. You spent nearly every day together, and it was clear to anyone with eyes that there was something deeper than friendship between you.

Still, you hadn’t exactly told Shadow everything about yourself. Not because you were hiding anything—far from it—but because, well, some details just never seemed relevant. Like the fact that your brother was none other than Sonic the Hedgehog.

You didn’t think much of it. Shadow never really talked about Sonic, and you didn’t bring him up often either. It wasn’t until you arranged for the two of them to meet at a local café that you realized the glaring oversight in your plan.

---

You arrived first with Shadow, finding a cozy table in the corner of the café. He sat next to you, arms crossed, his usual stoic demeanor firmly in place. “So, your brother,” Shadow said, glancing at you. “What’s he like?”

You smiled. “Oh, he’s great. Kind of cocky sometimes, but he’s got a good heart. You’ll like him.” Shadow raised an eyebrow at that, but before he could respond, the door jingled, and you turned to see Sonic stroll in, his signature confident grin plastered across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” Sonic called out, making his way over to your table. His eyes flicked to Shadow, and his grin faltered slightly. “Oh. It’s you.” Shadow’s expression darkened immediately. “Of course. It’s you.”

You blinked, looking between the two of them. “Wait... you two know each other?” Sonic chuckled dryly, crossing his arms. “Know each other? Yeah, you could say that. Shadow and I have a bit of... history.”

Shadow scoffed, glaring at Sonic. “History? Is that what we’re calling it now? I’d call it a series of your insufferable antics.”

“Insufferable? Please,” Sonic shot back, smirking. “You’re just mad because I’m better and you're supposed to be "the ultimate lifeform".” Your mouth fell open as the two of them glared at each other, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife.

“Okay, hold on,” you said, holding up your hands. “I feel like I’m missing something here. How do you two even know each other?” Sonic blinked, glancing at you. “Wait... you’re telling me you never mentioned me to him?”

“I didn’t think it was important!” you said defensively. “Why, exactly, is this such a big deal?” Shadow narrowed his eyes at Sonic. “You didn’t tell me your brother was him.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me you hated my brother!” you shot back, exasperated.Sonic snorted. “Hate’s a strong word. It’s more like... mild irritation.”

“Mutual disdain,” Shadow corrected, his tone dry.You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Okay, look. Can we all just... start over? Shadow, this is my brother, Sonic. Sonic, this is Shadow. He’s... someone very important to me.”

Sonic’s eyebrows shot up, and a sly grin spread across his face. “Oh, very important, huh? Didn’t realize you had a thing for dark and broody hedgehogs.”

“Don’t start,” you warned, shooting him a glare. Shadow, for his part, simply crossed his arms and leaned back in his chair. You shush himbefore he can let out the remark you could sense about to come from him, “You two are going to get along if it kills me. Sonic, stop being a smartass. Shadow, stop being... you.”

The two of them exchanged a glance, and for a moment, it seemed like they might actually listen.Then Sonic grinned again. “Fine. But only because I like you more than I dislike him.”

Shadow sighed, his expression softening slightly as he looked at you. “I’ll tolerate this... for you.” You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the small smile tugging at your lips. It was going to take some time, but you had a feeling that, eventually, these two might just get along—or at least not fight on sight every time they were in the same room.

[sirhamburrger]

DIE WITH A SMILE (m. bachira x reader)

━☆ (post-apocalypse au, for day three of @phantasmaebg) ━☆ in which the only thing you can do is join him in undeath. ━☆ wc (written portion): 831 || tags/cw: f!reader, reader is a researcher working on a cure for the virus, bachira is part of an elite military squad, major character deaths (both bachira and reader, among others)(this is a zombie apocalypse au after all) || event m.list ━☆ why did i write this... this is so sad *runs away crying*

meguru bachira is beautiful. a little tired - that much is evident from the dark circles under his golden eyes - but still: beautiful. his eyes practically light up when you step into the room, clad in full personal protective equipment. 

for a moment you get self conscious of how you look dressed like a walking banana, but that all disappears when he chuckles warmly, making you blush beneath your mask.

“you’re even more beautiful than i expected,” the squadron member breathes.

you cock your head to the side, highly skeptical as you take a seat in front of him. “you can only see my eyes, though,” you point out, voice muffled.

“yeah, well.” a short pause, then, “they say true beauty is all in the eyes.”

you don’t quite know how you should respond to that, so you don’t.

you end up talking to him than is honestly necessary for the psych eval. he’s a sweet man, and the things his squad-mates have said about him are proven true - optimistic, cheerful, perceptive. somehow, the man you’ve only ever been able to talk to over the phone from behind a reinforced glass panel has become one of the people you trust most in this world.

maybe it’s the way he listens to you intently about the stresses of work, lets you confide in him about hard days - especially really hard days when you find out another one of you has been lost to the virus - trusts you enough to spill his own secrets too.

maybe it’s the way he laughs, or calls you pretty when he’s not calling you “doc”. maybe it’s the way you relate to him, both being people with risky jobs. in a broken world like this, either of you could go at any minute. but he helps you accept it, and he helps you embrace it.

but maybe it’s the way he tries to reach a hand out to hold yours on the table during a particularly hard part of the conversation, but restrains himself, a dejected and heartbroken expression on his face.

how ironic that the only thing you want is the only thing you cannot have. not just yet, at least.

it’s been three days since squad z perished in tokyo’s biggest hot zone, and meguru is not doing well.

it started with erratic vitals - high blood pressure, arrhythmia, severe migraines, then escalated  violent outbursts. your superiors don’t allow you in the room with him any more, even though you’d bet your life he would never hurt you. it hurts to see him like this. delirious, in mourning, broken.

he is not the man he once was, and you’re not entirely sure he’ll live long enough to see that change.

he still talks with you, so at least that hasn’t changed. you are one of the last few scientists on earth even remotely close to synthesising a cure, since many have been wiped out already. it’s stressful, frankly, and you’ve had shameful, selfish thoughts about ending it all - joining the dead before you are forced to walk amongst them. but meguru tells you to keep your chin up, doc, you’re getting there.

and who are you to say no to him, if not for the fact that he’s not doing much better himself?

you open up to him once, more than you think you should. you tell him about how you’ve wanted to be a scientist for the longest time as a child, but before that, you wanted to be a singer. but your parents saw no future in it. so you never pursued it further.

in the quiet of the space between you, then, meguru bachira asks if you would sing for him.

and you do.

you don’t even notice when he starts to cry, but you know that you’re crying too.

you bring him flowers sometimes. he lets them die in a corner of the confinement cell. you can’t blame him for not even trying.

the horde has broken in.

all your colleagues, your superiors, your friends - they’re all gone. they’ve all been reduced to mindless monsters, hungry for human flesh. now, those monsters push against the door, trying to get to you.

you stare back through the glass, eyes landing on meguru, who convulses on the ground, clutching his head. his head jerks backwards, blood spilling from his mouth. just like all the others. you let out a sob, your heart aching for him.

you fumble for your phone.

the air smells like blood, and meguru looks like hell.

you pad towards him slowly, tears streaming down your face. you freeze when he notices you, hunger in his bloodshot eyes. you take a step towards him. hold his hand. embrace him. tilting your head to the side, exposing your neck to him.

he’s crying now as he mumbles something. it sounds like i’m sorry and thank you. maybe it’s both. you feel hot breath on your neck, and his sharp teeth sinking into your skin.

and all is well in the world.

bllk masterlist || general masterlist © sirhamburrger 2025

[passionesolja]

Rah rah, Sith bad but like when the Sith Order was apart of the Sith Empire society and not a weird trauma cult (I.E.: Bane’s Order), imagine how scary it had to be to grow up in that environment. For one, your people (the OG Sith) were already occupied by the Jedi Exiles and your species became the Sith Purebloods. Then, you guys get ran the fuck out of Korriban and have to struggle to survive because Naga Sadow flopped. So the Republic and Jedi really beat y’all ass.

The Sith Empire just doesn’t have the overall economy or power of the Republic so imagine being a Sith Pureblood child and knowing that it’s pretty much on sight for you for the rest of your life. Because unlike a lot of alien species, if you see a Sith Pureblood there’s a high chance they’re Imperial or Sith Order.

Like mfs had the most iconic design of anybody in Star Wars, there’s no hiding from being a Sith if you’re a Sith Pureblood. A Jedi can spot you a mile away and it’s immediate smoke. Growing up knowing that would make me an aggressive mf who’s driven by fear and hatred too. Your culture also has a lot of practices that are considered “darkside” but it’s probably just because you guys evolved to survive Korriban (shittiest planet ever, makes Tatooine look like Naboo in comparison)

Then you factor in that you guys are exiled and there’s probably zero chance the Republic will welcome you into the club after y’all were acting an ass for like 4 generations. It’s pretty much fight or die, you don’t even have your home world a good minute either. Plus, Jedi and Republic mfs go to your homeworld to steal your ancestors shit like mfs stealing your great great great grandmas ancient incense burner and sticking it in the chancellors office or some shit

I’m not saying the Sith Empire are right or whatever, but I’m saying that I can only imagine how scary it has to be to be a kid growing up in these circumstances and why you’d grow up being like “I want to be a Sith Lord and beef with the Jedi too”. Sith Pureblood parents probably telling their kids “if you be bad, the Jedi Knight will get you” when they’re misbehaving

Because on the real, I know Sith Purebloods be looking intimidating and scary when they grown but when they lil kids they have zero aura. Sis imagine looking like that and knowing that grown ass people with telekinesis and the world’s hottest swords want you dead. Yeah, I’m turning my fear into anger, anger into hate, and going to the darkside too. Also, I’m getting dripped tf out in jewelry too

[riptides-n-roses]

fresh meat - the shield (18+)

⛧ pair: the shield (jon moxley/dean ambrose, seth rollins, and roman reigns) x reader [i know he goes by mox now but i’m calling him dean for this one]

⛧ tags: @88changemymind @reigns-prophecy @cyberdejos2 (please let me know anytime if you'd like to be tagged in recent or future works.

⛧ warnings: primal play, kidnapping cre@mp1es, unprotected p in v, @nal (you're welcome), oral (m! and f! receiving), foursome (f/m/m/m), exhibitionism, lots of positions, degrading (my specialty), edging, overstimulation, orgasm denial [future warnings may be updated in this ff] as always minors should not interact ♡

⛧ sorry I haven't been active - I been busy with college and a recent trip to Germany: I always had a little fantasy of these 3 being dominant in a "certain" kind of way. Also I will go ahead and apologize if this isn't my best work - I've never had any bad writer's block like this and this the first time I've written a foursome so my apologies if it's a bit hard to understand.

⛧ the shield took out lots of the lockerroom; you however were in front of their next target. They surrounded you and were thinking of what to do you as punishment for getting in their way.

⛧ word count: 3.8K

How did you get here? How did you find yourself like this? The Shield were already pissed off about whatever the chairman told them but why you? Why were you surrounded by those three?

You quivered in fear as The Shield stared at you. Ambrose smirking, Rollins checking you up and down, and Reigns looking deep into your eyes.

"What do you think, boys?" Dean asks his fellow brothers. "What should we do with her?"

“I don’t know, Dean.” Roman replied, annoyance in his tone. “I’m getting irritated from her looking at us.”

You shivered from Roman’s words. You never thought you’d see yourself in this position - three hungry wolves lurking around you like they found their next meal. You sweated, praying that they won’t hurt you. But why you out of all people?

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

An hour earlier…

The Shield was pissed at Triple H for screwing them over for a tag team championship rematch. They’ve been begging to get this opportunity since their reunion.

They’ve already put many superstars through the announce tables and anything else they could attack other male superstars with.

You, a female superstar, were minding your business, getting ready to support your best friend, Naomi since she had a match for the women’s championship. While getting ready to meet her, you noticed a good friend of yours, Drew McIntyre, being part of the Shields main targets. Of course you couldn’t stand there and not protect your friend.

You noticed Seth about to make a sneak attack on Drew and you immediately blocked him from landing a hit on Drew. Seth was stunned seeing you try to stop what The Shield was all about - justice. And they sure had a way of making it known. You froze, asking yourself, "What were you thinking? You stopped a member of The Shield?! That's asking for a funeral." But you didn't want to show you were afraid, your face remained as emotionless as you could.

Drew didn’t say anything and left, a little amused from your small act of protecting your friend. In that space was just you and Seth. Seth began to smile and laugh at you, not believing you would stop any member of this faction.

“Sweetheart, there’s absolutely no way you’re trying to stop me. Either you be a good girl and move out of my way or you’re going to regret it.” He threatened, looking at your face. You felt offended from what he called you and didn’t move a muscle. It was stupid to do what you were doing, but your body was telling you to stay still.

When Seth saw you wouldn’t budge, he sighed and chuckled. You don’t know why he was laughing but you wouldn’t dare to ask.

“Welp, I tried to warn you.”

Those were his last words when two figures emerged from the dark - his other brothers, Dean Ambrose and Roman Reigns. Your eyes widened as you realize your situation, three on one. You walked back slowly, backing yourself up to a wall. The three now surrounding you - making sure you wouldn’t escape from them.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

Which leads to now. You felt your stomach drop as Seth approached you slowly, reaching his gloved hand out to your face, lifting your chin up with his finger.

“I’d say we punish her for getting in our way - making our next target get away.” He finally spoke, his other hand reaching to gently cup your face. “What do you think we should do, gentlemen?”

Dean and Roman both look at each other and smirked, both sharing an idea. “I think we should make her regret messing with us.” Dean replied. “We should ruin that pretty little face of hers.” Roman chimed in.

“I agree.” Seth chuckled. “Y’hear that? We’re gonna punish you.”

Your eyes widened. Punish? What did they mean? You lost your train of thought when you were suddenly picked up by Seth, him placing you on his shoulder.

“Put me down!” You yelled, landing punches on Seth.

“Oh you’ll have to try harder than that, sweetheart.” He mocked. “You’re ours now.”

You squirmed trying to become loose from his grip as the three men carried you away, putting their plans on beating up the whole locker room on pause.

.•°☆.⋆｡⋆☆•˚｡⋆｡˚•☆˚｡⋆.☆•°.⋆

You were brought to an empty room, only decorated with a couch and a table, Seth finally putting you down from his shoulder.

You quivered as you watched Dean closing the door and locking it, keeping his eyes on you. It was now just the four of you in a room, without anyone interfering with whatever they wanted. You took a step back as they began to approach you. You were scared to your wits - afraid of how they were with anyone who dared cross them, you were shaking as to what they wanted from you.

“Look at her, boys. She’s afraid of us being in front of her. How adorable.” Dean chuckled flattered that you found them intimidating.

“Awww what’s the matter, sweetheart?” Seth asked. “Scared of us? You think we’re gonna hurt you?”

“Cmon, babygirl. Don’t be shy~” Roman chimed, waiting for you to answer.

You gulped, too stunned to speak.

“Y-Yes…” you replied.

You watched the Shield smile, finally getting a reaction out of you. You felt humiliated with your situation. You just wanted them to leave you alone so you could go home.

Dean approached you, completely in front of you and looking into your eyes. You shivered feeling him go to the crook of your neck, getting a smell out of you. You held your breath feeling one of his rough calloused hands touch your waist, making their way slowly up your body. Dean hummed in approval, taking note of how sensitive you were with his gentle touch. You gasped when you felt his lips gently kiss your skin, his hand now intertwined with yours. Dean chuckled to your noises as he kept kissing your neck, obsessed with your scent.

“What….what are you-“

“Shhh. Relax, doll. I’m not going to hurt you.”

He was gentle with his tone - a bit too gentle. It was slightly erotic. With his other hand, he motioned for Roman to also get a smell of you. Roman smirked and made his way behind you - his hands going under your shirt. You shivered from how cold they were. You bit your lip when you felt them go in your bra cupping your breast, giving them a squeeze. You closed your eyes tight feeling Roman gently biting your ear. Seth was amused to you trying your best not to submit to their touches and kisses, he admired seeing how you were pathetically trying to not give a reaction.

“Don’t be scared, sweetheart.” Seth laughed, watching his fellow brothers make a mess of you “You can make noise. Only us will hear you.”

“Aww is someone shy?” Dean cooed “You don’t have to be afraid.”

“Go on, babygirl.” Roman ordered

You accidentally left out a moan as you felt Dean bite harder into your skin - Roman squeezing your breasts a bit harder, playing with your nips. Your free hand went around Dean, pulling him in closer onto you. As much as you were afraid to admit it, you were getting turned on. You felt yourself getting damp to multiple kisses and hot breaths surrounding you.

“Please…I..” You tried to talk, feeling intoxicated from being touched and kissed.

“What is it, babygirl?” Roman asked “You want some more?”

“Don’t be scared, doll. Tell us what you want.” Dean added, his hand slowly going down your crotch. Your breath was shaky as you tried to open your mouth.

“I…oh fuck…I want more.” You replied, feeling a bulge being pressed against your ass. You moaned from Dean’s hot kisses all over your neck, Roman having his hands gripping your sides and continuously rubbing his bulge on your ass, still playfully biting your ear.

“Hmm, good girl” Dean whispered, getting turned on from your submissive voice.

You whined when Dean stopped toying with you, stepping back as Seth was in front of you now.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart. We’ll be gentle with you.” Seth chuckled, cupping your face as he pressed his lips against yours, both of your tongues fighting for dominance. Your muffled moans and pleas turned on the three hungry men. You felt sandwiched between Seth and Roman, feeling them kiss all over you.

“Yknow…this gear of yours” Roman started, before he lifted your top up “Has always distracted me whenever you walked past us.” Before you could speak, your top was off, being completely naked from top. You shivered from your naked breasts being exposed to the air. You watched as Seth’s eyes grew hungry with lust seeing your hardened nipples as he began to play with one of them, making you whine from his touch.

“I…I don’t understand.” You started, feeling Roman place gentle kisses on the back of your neck. “I thought you three were going to literally hurt me…”

“Hurt you?” Seth was surprised from your statement “Oh no sweetheart we could never. Isn’t that right boys?”

“She’s too pretty for that” Dean smirked, admiring how sensitive you were.

“And these bottoms…” You felt one of Roman’s calloused hands make their way to your waistline, teasing part of your bottoms “They always hugged your curves in all the right places..” You yelped feeling your bottoms quickly come down, revealing your laced underwear. You were now nearly nude in front of the three behemoths, your body shivered from the sudden temperature change.

“Oh? What’s this?” Seth teased, his hand making his way to your clothed cunt, “Lace? Were you expecting this, sweetheart?”

As you opened your mouth, you felt Seth’s hand make small circles on your clit, sending a wave of vibrations down your spine. You were already wet from being kissed and toyed with from Dean and Roman, but feeling Seth play with your clit made you wetter and needy for more.

“You’re so wet, baby…” Seth whispered, his hand going faster on your clit. You whined from his touch, your eyes tightly shut. You felt so small under their touch and dominance.

You were shaking, you've never felt this kind of sensation before and it was driving you wild. Your whimpers felt like music to their ears, enjoying every sound you made whenever they touched you.

What seemed like eternity, Seth finally stopped playing with your cunt, admiring your juices being all over his fingers, Roman backing away from behind you. You were confused as to what they were going to do next.

"I always wondered what do you taste like, sweetheart"

Before you could say anything, you were placed on the couch, your legs spread wide open. You watched The Shield admiring your clothed cunt. You were scared to make a noise as Seth slowly made his way toward you, his hands gently pulling your underwear off.

"Are you scared? Pathetic. You weren't so scared in stopping us earlier. What happened to that brave little soul?" he teased, forcefully spreading your legs wider to a better view of your wet cunt.

You couldn't answer, your breath hitched feeling a warm tongue circling your clit. You couldn't move your legs much as Seth kept them open.

"F-Fuck.." you cried, your eyes shut from the waves of pleasure, you melting in front of the three. You amused them, they've never seen you so submissive like this before.

"What a good little slut..." Seth muttered, his gloved fingers circling your clit as his tongue went in you.

Dean and Roman watched in admiration but a little jealous that they weren't having their way with you just yet.

"Please...I...I want to-"

"You're not going to cum until I tell you too, understood?"

You cried from Seth's orders, feeling your stomach tighten and winding up. You whined when he stopped, unable to cum without their permission.

"I thought of something else."

You were confused by what he meant, until he motioned for Dean, making his way towards you. You were swiftly put on your knees, ass up in front of Seth. You looked up at Dean, his eyes hungry for you.

"You're going to be a good girl and take the both of us. Got it?" Dean asked, his hands removing his belt and black pants. You quickly nodded, not saying a word.

"I'm sorry, are you going to address him correctly?" Seth muttered, delivering a harsh slap on your ass; you yelped from the pain, your mind going white for a second.

"Yes...Yes sir."

Dean smirked and pulled down his boxers, revealing his thick cock. Your eyes widened from how big he was, you were worried as to how you were going to fit him all in your mouth. You lost your train of thought when you felt Seth's fingers playing with your clit, you gasped from how rough he was being.

"Open your mouth, whore"

Dean roughly grabbed your cheeks, forcefully pushing his dick in your mouth, your eyes forming tears as you gagged on his length, his tip touching the back of your throat. Seth, growing impatient, pushed himself into you, your cunt throbbing from being stuffed.

Your moans were muffled as you felt another slap across your ass, Seth thrusting in and out of you. You whimpered feeling Seth's hands roughly grabbing your sides, Dean grabbing a handful of your hair.

"God damn, you're such a slut" Dean groaned, His free hand roughly grabbing your face "You're doing so good."

You whimpered from how you were being manhandled from the two, trying to grasp for air.

"You're taking me so well, sweetheart." Seth praised, delivering another slap on your ass. The two men getting sloppier with each thrust. You felt your stomach tighten, you were getting desperate to cum.

"Look at me." Dean ordered, raising your face up, "You were wanting this for a while weren't you?" You nodded, afraid to disobey him. He smirked, biting his lip. "You're so cute."

Your eyes rolled back as Dean and Seth went harder and faster with their thrusts, you knew they were going to cum soon, your stomach getting tighter and tighter.

"I'm going to cum in your mouth, are you ready?"

You nodded to Dean, gagging from his length.

"Me too, sweetheart" you heard Seth groan, his hands grabbing your ass. "I'll let you cum, okay?"

You whined, finally wanting to be filled with cum. Your stomach beginning to wind up.

"Fuck..." Dean growled, thrusting one last time before filling your mouth with his cum.

You reached your orgasm too, your cries tighten your pussy as Seth thrusted into your cunt, his seed explode deep in you. The three of you rode out an orgasm, your body shaking from the round of sex. Dean pulled his cock out of your mouth, letting you breathe while Seth slowly pulled out of you, your pussy leaking his cum. Dean grabbed your face, leaving hot kisses all over you. "You're a good slut...but you know we aren't done. Roman hasn't had a turn yet with you."

You slowly turned to see an impatient Roman staring at you, smirking as you knew he was going to be aggressive with you. You yelped from Seth smacking your ass one more time before standing up, Dean giving you one more kiss before he also gotten up.

"She's all yours, Roman."

As Dean and Seth stood back, Roman took his time making his way toward you, admiring your flushed face and your submissive position. He gently cupped your face with his hand. He smirked looking into your eyes, listening to your heavy breathing.

You were scared as he remained silent, thinking of what he wanted to do to you. You didn't want to question him since he wasn't that much of a talker. What seemed like forever, he smashed his lips onto yours, catching you off guard from his swift movements. You whined as both of your tongues twirled against each other. His free hand slowly making its way to one of your breast, playing with your nipples. You whined from his touch, rough but gentle. You knew this wasn't what he really wanted.

He finally pulled away, allowing your lungs air. His eyes never leaving yours. He gently stroked your face, still not saying a word. Why wasn't he saying anything? Was he already getting bored? What was he planning?

You looked down and saw a massive bulge in his pants, your eyes widening. "How is he going to fit that in me?" you thought to yourself. He took noticed and chuckled, amused to how shocked you were.

"How cute..." Roman muttered.

You were startled to his tone, finally hearing him speak. He swiftly put you on your back, your cunt being in front of him. You watched as Roman undid his belt and his pants, revealing his huge, veiny cock. "Holy...fuck" your thoughts were full of concern. You felt as if he was going to rip through you.

He positioned himself, not breaking eye contact and keeping your legs open, watching your face expressions carefully. You gasped feeling his tip tease your clit, throbbing for attention. You could feel your face getting warm.

You whined as he roughly pushed himself into you, your walls tightening from how thick he was. He made sure you adjusted to his size before thrusting roughly into you, grunting from how tight you were.

"Fuck, babygirl..." his groans hypnotized you, your eyes never leaving his, your tits bouncing with each thrust. He leaned toward you, pressing his lips against yours again, you wrapped your arms and legs around him. You were surprised he wasn't being as rough as you were thinking. You felt it wasn't really what he really wanted to do with you just yet.

He pulled away from your lips, wanting to look into your eyes again.

You shut your eyes tight from how good you felt, You gasped as Roman grabbed your throat, limiting a bit of air.

"Look at me baby. Look at me while I fuck you."

You opened your eyes again, obeying Roman as he thrusted harder into you, your legs pathetically trying to close themselves. It was too much for you to handle.

"You're so beautiful like this."

His praises were erotic. You couldn't talk much as his grip went a little tighter on your neck. You felt your stomach slowly tighten. You gasped his thrusts went faster into you, you were trying to grab his arm that was around your neck. Roman quickly intertwined his hand with yours, preventing you from releasing his grip.

"I wouldn't do that, babygirl."

You cried feeling your stomach getting tighter, his thrusts getting sloppier.

"Do you want to cum, baby? I'm getting ready to." He growled, holding back from cumming in you too quickly.

"Ye..Ye..Yess" Your words were limited, feeling yourself getting closer to your limit. He smirked and released his grip on your throat, letting you breathe.

"Fuck baby...I'm gonna cum"

You sobbed, cumming all over his cock, one last thrust before he came in you, your eyes rolling back, shaking from your second orgasm. Roman kissing you one more time before pulling out of you, he smiled looking how exhausted you were.

"We're still not done."

You felt your stomach dropped from those words. Not done? What else could they have wanted? You look back and see Dean and Seth coming toward you and Roman, having another idea.

Roman smirked and helped you up, having another thought in his head. Just then, you were picked up for a second, Dean now laying on his back, you on top of him, Roman behind you and Seth in front of you. You knew where this was going. You whined feeling Dean push himself into you without warning, Roman teasing your ass before slowly pushing his tip in. You were about to scream before Seth put his dick in your mouth, muffling your cries. You never felt stuffed like this before. It was a little painful, but you didn't mind. Your shut your eyes tight as the three men began to thrust into you, you feeling so full to a point you've never felt before. The sounds of groans and skin slapping filled the room, it was too erotic for either of you to handle. You never had sex like this before but it didn't bother you.

"How's this, y/n? Us filling you up like this?" Seth laughed as he cupped your face, watching your eyes roll back, his other hand grabbing a lot of your hair roughly.

You could only let out a few muffled whimpers and cries, begging to be fucked rougher.

"This is what happens when you cross us, y'hear?"

You gasped as Dean began playing with your tits, making you overstimulated, sure to cum soon. Roman was now the one delivering harsh slaps on your ass, even harder than what Seth did earlier. Tears formed in your eyes from the overbearing pleasure. It was too much yet it felt too good to stop.

Their thrusts gotten harder and disgustingly faster, your stomach tightening quicker than the last few times. Your breath gotten quicker from each thrust. Seth took notice and grabbed your face forcing you to look at him.

"Fuck...I know you're about to cum but you're not going to yet, slut."

You whined from his demands, trying desperately hard not to disobey him from cumming too quickly. Your body felt like jello, it was unbearable to keep still in the same position due to the amount of pleasure: Seth's tip always touching the back of your throat with each thrust, Dean hitting your sensitive spots, and Roman stuffing your ass with his cock. It was a lot to handle.

You were getting impatient, your whines growing loud from your upcoming orgasm, it was starting to hurt holding it.

"I'm getting close, fuck...I'm about to cum in you, baby." Dean growled, his grip gotten tighter on one of your breasts.

"Same here. You still holding it, hmm?" Seth asked you, your eyes blurred from tears. You quickly nodded, it was really starting to hurt holding your orgasm."

"Shit, I'm about to cum." Roman muttered, his thrusts getting sloppy.

You cried out releasing your orgasm on Dean's cock, Your vision going white. Dean followed behind, filling you up with his cum. Roman forcefully grabbing your sides, his seed burst into your ass, and Seth cumming down your throat. The four of you rode out a rough orgasm. Seth finally pulled out of your mouth, keeping his tight grip on you keeping eye contact. Your breath was scarce, finally having some time to breathe. Both Roman and Dean pulled out of you, still staying in their position, all of you breathing heavily from the round of sex. Your body was shaking, shivering from how rough you were fucked, cum leaking from both of your holes.

Seth chuckled, amused from how completely exhausted you were now, giving you a rough kiss on your lips.

"This was your punishment."

[ninatheelf]

perfection can keep you from persisting :

“once you make a decision, the universe conspires to make it happen.” -ralph waldo emerson

some motivation for any perfectionists / over-thinkers!

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

this kind of ties into one of my other posts about embracing the parts of shifting that we don’t understand. we can’t really grasp the “how” of it all- and by that i mean how exactly our thoughts reflect from the 4d and manifest in the physical plane.

and what’s really nice is that we don’t have to worry about how it all works. in fact, not worrying about how it happens is what allows the manifestation to occur.

before i learned about loa, i had a blockage regarding the logistics of my dr. i was stressed out about my backstory making sense, or about accidentally creating a butterfly effect that would make things end up not going the way i wanted them to. i thought that i had to script everything to be “perfect.” i thought i had to have it all planned out and control every little aspect in order to make sure nothing occurred that i didn’t want to in my dr. and in doing that, i was holding myself back. 

there’s an element of trust one must place in the universe in order to let things happen. when one is constantly obsessing over how it’ll all work out, it doesn’t, because that questioning and distrust is breaking the persistence part of loa.

the “how” is doing all of the heavy lifting. the “how” is adjusting the logic of your dr to make it make sense and have it be natural. the “how” does it all for you. you don’t need to stress yourself out by trying to do all of this yourself. 

this is why that one woman on shifttok frustrated me when she talked about how if you script that you have no body hair and don’t sweat, that means you’ll have some sort of disease that causes those things. when that video came out, i was just staring to study loa, and i knew immediately that she didn’t understand what she was talking about.

the universe isn’t plotting against you like that. there’s no “careful what you wish for” moment when it comes to scripting different aspects about your dr and dr self. if you script something like that out of conveniency’s sake, your subconscious understands that and the logic of your dr is going to change to make the fact that you don’t have body hair or sweat perfectly normal for you. how? we don’t have to know, and it literally does not matter.  a hogwarts dr is a great example of this. that reality contains magic that goes against our cr's biology and the law of gravity (mythical creatures, potions, levitation, etc.) and yet the reality doesn’t descend into chaos with all of these crazy consequences, because the logic of that reality is set in a way where the creatures and potions and floating objects make sense. 

anyways, that woman’s take is what i’m talking about with the over-thinker, butterfly effect, distrusting mindset. you do not need to consider the consequences for things you script that are like that. if you believe that you will be fine and safe and healthy with new characteristics, then you will be fine and safe and healthy.

i’ll always say this (and i don’t care if people get annoyed because repetition is important for the subconscious!!) as long as you stay truly grounded and persistent in your assumption, it will always manifest. and in order to do that, you have to trust that what you want to receive will work out in your favor, and trust that you don’t have to worry about controlling every little aspect to make changes seem understandable. that is the “how” / universe’s job. 

give up some control to the universe, and that’s when it’ll happen. maybe it’ll make sense how it happened after the fact, and maybe it won’t. but either way, you got what you wanted!

— — — — — — — — ✿ — — — — — — — —

as a control freak, i’ve found a lot of relief in giving up some control to the universe lol- in my experience it’s really quickened my manifestations and just made the process much easier. since the universe is a part of you, it is always working in your favor. 𝜗��

[kayakima]

Why do you think Jean and Pieck work well as a couple? (srs)

I know you have a fic of it but I'm curious about your direct take.

Oooo I’m definitely not the first person who has said this but a lot of the appeal with Jean x Pieck lies with the post-canon potential between the two of them as opposed to scenes that you directly see in the manga/anime!

Jean and Pieck are both shown to be incredibly pragmatic, level-headed, and loyal characters, (where their loyalty primarily lies with people as opposed to the systems that brought them up. I.e. Pieck saying she doesn’t trust Marley but the people she’s fought with, and Jean telling Reiner that they’re no different from each other, so it’s wrong to judge their actions), and in their few short scenes together, it shows that they immediately read how the other works in a way that they can work together efficiently in a fight. They don’t hold anything against each other for past instances, because right off the bat they both understand that nothing is personal in war, and when they’re finally at a point in the narrative where it’s time to join up, they do so immediately without hesitation.

From a physical standpoint, Jean canonically likes girls with dark hair, and while that in and of itself isn’t enough to say “oh they’re canon because she has black hair”, it does lend to the idea that Pieck may have partially been designed to serve as a potential secondary love interest for Jean, considering that she was originally supposed to be a middle aged man. Even if that change wasn’t intended to open that door, their scene together on Eren’s Titan very clearly pushes a “hey guys this is also a new potential love interest situation so pay attention to these two!!!” Type of agenda that’s really common in this type of storytelling. Pieck herself is portrayed as being inseparable from Porco, who also has a fiery temperament and dirty-blonde hair, and while Porco and Pieck lack the absolutely absurd height difference between her and Jean, we still see her interactions with a male character that has similar traits with Jean. Once Porco dies, Pieck is clearly upset, but then chooses to push forward to fulfill her duty to her fellow warriors (who else in this story chose to follow through to make a difference to honor a comrade that was in one way or another killed because of Reiner???) they’re reflections of the same character traits in different bodies, and they mirror each other incredibly well when they barely even interact onscreen.

But in the parts where they DO interact, I can’t tell you how many shows and movies I’ve seen that have had two side characters that previously didn’t talk much suddenly wind up in a long fight sequence together, and more often than not, it does lead to a character change and emphasized romantic potential by the end of the story. Character blocking in scenes is incredibly important, and when two characters are placed together for a 4-5 minute scene of just the two of them, then the contrast of both their visuals and their personalities is much more noticeable. Then we get into the boat scene, where Pieck is the one to tease Jean about his hair, and he makes just as equally cheeky a response. I do think their time as ambassadors would put them in close quarters very often, and in real life, people fall for each other all the time when they’re together 24/7. I think it was intentional that Pieck was the one to start the banter with Jean to go back on my previous statements, and I think by the end of the story, that’s implied that there’s a good chance the two of them either currently have something going on, or that there’s something that will happen between them eventually. I also like the idea that since they met as adults, and with wildly different life experiences, they could have a lot to learn from each other without years of trauma and baggage that affects their relationship. They’re two entirely separate people that have the potential to become something completely new together as opposed to being together in the shadow of everything that happened to them when they were younger.

Also consider this: incredibly attractive and smug man meets even more attractive and smug woman. Then they have four kids.

[florencechase]

So I came across the Mayfair Witches thing with Lestat and Felix, and like pretty much everyone on here I was bummed but then I though about it for a very long time, went through the books again and… here’s how I think they can still make it work. Just as a disclaimer though, I’ve only fully read IWTV and TVL, and am currently like 1/3 through QOTD, so if there’s anything in the books after that that disproves my theory I’m sorry! But since the Lestat/Felix arc takes place towards the end of IWTV, I thought I’d still give it a go.

So the main issue here that people bring up is that if Lestat taught Felix to “cull the herd”, he can’t be book Lestat because book Lestat admits to only killing the “evildoers”, so why would he tell Felix to be so merciless? The answer: it’s complicated.

Lestat, the book and the show version, is unfortunately (or fortunately because that’s part of what makes him so interesting) a man who often does the opposite of what he says. I took a closer look at his first moments with Gabrielle after he turns her, and we have a similar situation in which he’s teaching her how to kill. Here’s an excerpt from it:

“I found a victim as soon as we had crossed the river […] [a]nd as I lured the victim out of the tavern, as I teased him, maddened him, and then took him, I knew I was showing off for her, making it a little crueler, more playful. And when the kill came, it had an intensity to it that left me spent afterwards.” (TVL, p. 147)

When he’s teaching others how to kill, he likes to show off. Simple as that. I’m sure the victim he chose was a criminal, like most his victims, but the point is he never told Gabrielle that. To her knowledge what Lestat just did was brutally murder some random man. Two pages later we have the following passage when Gabrielle makes her first kill and it’s the guy on the horse she ends up stealing the clothes from:

“I was shaken. The innocence of her victims didn’t trouble her. She didn’t fight my moral battles. But then I didn’t fight them anymore either, so why should I judge her? Yet the ease witch which she slew the young man – gracefully breaking his neck when the little drink she took was not enough to kill him – angered me tough it had been extremely exciting to watch. She was colder than I. She was better at all of it, I thought. Magnus had said, “Show no mercy.” But had he meant us to kill when we did not have to kill?” (TVL, pp. 149-150)

Lestat obviously doesn’t feel comfortable killing innocent people, but there’s not one scene in which he either tells someone he’s having moral dilemmas with it, or tells others they shouldn’t kill innocent people. It’s his thing, and it’s his struggle, but he never shares it until he writes about it in TVL. Here’s another excerpt that highlights this:

“When [Louis] says I played with innocent strangers, befriending them and then killing them, how was he to know that I hunted almost exclusively among the gamblers, the thieves, and the killers, being more faithful to my unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even I had hoped I would be?” (TVL, pp. 434-435)

The key phrase here is “how was he to know”, so Louis had no idea! All this time he spent with Louis, and he never told him that’s what he was doing! Which brings me back to the show, to the reunion moment where Lestat tells Louis “I don’t like to point out my virtues.”

Of course, in the context he’s talking about not telling him he saved him at the trial, but it’s a pretty general statement about himself and it’s true, so far, in the book. He only kills innocent people, never tells anyone about it. He saves Louis at the trial, never tells anyone about it. And while I’ve seen some theories about how him not telling Louis he saved him was part of some pact he made with Armand, I’m just going to take things at face value here until the show proves otherwise.

Lestat always claims he’s “evil” in the books, but he does a whole bunch of stuff to disprove that. I think part of why he doesn’t let people know his good deeds is because there’s a part of him that wants to be perceived as the “evil monster” that he sees himself as. It’s the biggest irony ever for Lestat out of all vampires to claim he’s evil when he’s never acted with malicious intent (in the books, but I would even say in the show as well but the show is more complex in that regard).

The big thing about Lestat, which would also set him apart from show!Louis is that he does his thing and lets others do their thing. He doesn’t interfere with others, doesn’t tell them how to live their lives “the correct way”. Sure, he has many heated discussions about it with Nicki, but those are not him telling Nicki he should live according to his philosophy just because he thinks it’s the correct way to view life. Nicki hates himself at that point, which just gets worse with his way of thinking, and Lestat’s trying to pull him out of that. Nicki’s worldview is actively harmful to him and at least part of the reason for his eventual demise. But that’s not really relevant here, so I’m just going to leave it at that.

Which brings me back to Felix and Lestat. Did he, at some point, go out of his shack to kill people to show Felix how to do it? Not necessarily. The show doesn’t say he did, he could’ve simply just told him how to do it, he did after all figure it out himself too. It’s pretty intuitive I suppose for a vampire, and even when Claudia does her first kill Lestat isn’t shown killing first. He waits in the car with Louis and Claudia manages just fine.

Lestat knows what’s in their nature as vampires, but he himself doesn’t follow it at all times. It’s implied in one of the excerpts above, when he says he’s “being more faithful to [his]unspoken vow to kill the evildoer than even [he] had hoped [he] would be.” He’s not holding himself to any strict rules or high standards here. He’s trying his best, and if he takes an innocent life, he probably feels uncomfortable about it (while he secretly enjoys the feeling) but he’s probably just like “oh well.”

And with Felix, it could absolutely be a situation of do as I say, not as I do. He teaches him what’s in their nature, but he himself chooses to do differently. That, to me, sounds quite a lot like book!Lestat.

Besides, another aspect I’d like to point out is the definition of the word “cull”. Since English isn’t my native language, I had to look it up to really get all the nuances it implies. Here’s what google says:

“Selective slaughter”. Now here’s where I might be wrong and please correct me if I am, but since there are parallels to Darwin in MW, couldn’t that also imply selectively killing a particular group of people? As in, weed out the evildoers, or the weakest who don’t have a chance of survival anyways (as Lestat does after Louis tries to kill him)? The latter would make sense with the Darwin parallel. What we see in MW may be skewed through Felix’ perspective. I haven’t watched MW, but these things happen all the time in IWTV. Killing mercilessly may be only his interpretation of what Lestat said.

TL;DR: Lestat understands vampiric nature well enough to teach others how to kill “like a vampire” when he himself still chooses to do differently. He also doesn’t “like to point out [his] virtues” which is why he never actually told anyone he only kills criminals.