#and i love my men being messy boots

[jiwonhaes]

this is the level of petty i expect my men to be re: the chiefs 😭😭😭😭

[kissitbttr]

nobody understands how you did it.

how you managed to swept him off his feet, breaking the walls he had built pieces by pieces, how the fuck did you get him to be comfortable with you? to be open with you? and only with you.

‘never seen him this happy or loose in a long time, lass. what’s your trick, eh?’ the captain pulls a joke, making the rest of the team laugh. ‘i think I speak for everyone when i say, he never brings a girl out. let alone introducing her to us.’

that one is true. years of being friends with ghost, the captain nor his closest friend ‘soap’ has ever seen him out on a date. they encouraged him though, since there have been so many women tried their ways to get close with the big guy, yet none of them succeed.

the masked men would often just shrug them off and give one hard cold answer. they would back away immediately

“guess i just have my ways” is what you always say. even soap couldn’t register how it happened. he couldn’t figure it out himself, he knows the lad way longer than you do.

they don’t believe you. because there is no way in hell that all you did was to bat your lashes, show him your adorable giggle and he was in. there’s gotta be more to it.

so what is it about you that draws him close? what is it about you that makes ghost’s eyes light up each time you step into the room? what is it about you that makes ghost’s heart skip a beat every time he talks to you?

certainly not because how you’re so patient in getting to know with him, right? not because how you trace his scars ever so lightly and call them pretty every single time he’s doubtful about himself. not because how you console him with ‘I’ve got you, baby’ each night a nightmare comes back to haunt him while rubbing his back soothingly. not because how you shower him with soft, gentle kisses to remind him that your love for him is bigger than anyone could have offered. not because how you understand why he can’t say the three letter words to you, just yet. still, you stick around.

definitely not, right? there’s no way. he’s simon ghost riley. no one or nothing could ever be good enough to make this man come out of his shell. it’s impossible, right? you’ll need a miracle for that.

“love?” you hear a voice calls, along with the sound of keys being tossed into a ceramic bowl. heavy boots thumping against the marble floor,

you step out of the kitchen. long hair tied up into a messy updo, clear frame glasses perched on the bridge of your nose. dressed in one of his favorite sleeping gown as your eyes locked with his brown ones. the balaclava still attached to mask his handsome face.

scarred lips stretch into a smile the moment his beautiful fiancé emerges from the kitchen.

he drops his bag onto the floor, pulling the mask off of him slowly. revealing his disheveled blond hair as he takes slow steps towards you.

“hi, baby” your voice brings him home. no soul could ever take away from him. he longs for that angelic tone each time he gets deployed. three or six months without listening to you speak to him is just insanity.

he’d rather lose his hearing entirely than not having to hear you at all.

he’s quick to embrace you in his arms. your face hiding in the crook of his neck, inhaling that signature scent of his that you had missed, dearly.

“what are you making?” he mumbles into the crown of your hair, giving it a peck before pulling away slightly to take a good look at you. “it smells good”

“your favorite” you kiss his chin, causing his cheeks to redden at the affection. “i even bought those lumpias down the 112th street. i know how much you love them. pretzels bites from the deli for snacks aaand, black pepper beef with rice for your dinner. sounds good?”

simon leans against the doorway as he watches you plate everything. rambling about everything. his smile widens even more at your domestic antics. the way you talk with your hands as you mention another annoying co-worker that keeps bugging you and the way you roll your eyes when a splash of gravy spill from the plate.

truly is a sight.

“why are you looking at me like that?” your lips raise into a curious smile, finger moving a dark lock that sticks into your forehead,

he gives you a small shrug. gaze not leaving you neither does his smile.

“you’re just so beautiful”

something so simple yet it makes your stomach fills with butterflies.

you chew on your lower lip to prevent you from smiling too much, but a hint of blush is dusting your cheeks betrays you.

“come, papi… don’t want the food to get cold now, do we?” you change the subject while you nod your head towards the empty seat across. “eat with me”

the two of you sit there while making a small talk. stealing glances every second. feeding each other’s food. soft laughs fall upon both of your mouths when one make a terrible joke.

something you’d see when two people are in love. c

so yes, the answer to that question. it is possible. because you made it possible. you made it possible for him to love again. even if he had to start all over. you made it possible for him to be vulnerable. you gave him a purpose the moment he thought things were looking bad for him.

he found a solace within your existence.

only you made it possible to bring the simon in him.

vbecause you. are his home

[reidsworld]

Cinnamon and Whiskey

Summary: Secret Santa and tipsy flirting with Logan at the X-Men Christmas party. Based on this request.

Pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: Alcohol consumption, suggestive themes, making out, dubious consent (they are both under the influence), no use of Y/N, not proof read — you are responsible for the content you consume, if you are not comfortable with any of these warnings or are a minor, DNI!!

Word Count: 1k

Mars speaks… it’s been a while lol, i’ve lowk forgotten how to write a proper summary so ig you’re just gonna have to read the fic🤷‍♀️ also tysm for 400 followers, i am so unbelievably grateful for all of you 🫶 merry Christmas to those who celebrate!!

Masterlist

The mansion buzzed with warmth and light, a soft glow from the Christmas tree illuminating the crowd of X-Men mingling and laughing. The smell of pine and cinnamon wafted through the room, blending with the faintest hint of whiskey every time Logan walked past.

You weren’t sure if it was the mulled wine, the festive atmosphere, or just the way Logan leaned casually against the far wall, his broad shoulders back and one boot crossed over the other, but he was occupying far too much of your attention tonight.

Maybe it was the way his shirt clung to him just right, or how his hair was artfully messy, as if he hadn’t tried at all. Or maybe it was the way he caught your gaze every so often, raising his glass in a wordless toast before smirking into his drink.

Whatever it was, it left a flutter in your chest that had nothing to do with holiday spirit.

Logan had always been like this—rough around the edges but impossible to ignore. There was something about his sharp wit, the way his voice dropped when he teased you, the way he had a knack for being exactly where you didn’t expect him to be. He got under your skin, and you hated how much you loved it.

You stole another sip of your wine, trying to keep your focus anywhere but on him. But that was easier said than done. Especially when he started weaving through the crowd, a new drink in his hand and a distinctly relaxed swagger in his step.

The flush in his cheeks was more than the usual rugged tan. Logan was definitely tipsy, his edges softer tonight, his smirk lazier.

“Don’t look too excited,” he drawled, stopping in front of you. “You’re makin’ it obvious.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t stop the smile tugging at your lips. “Excited about what? Watching you pretend you’re not having a good time?”

Logan huffed out a laugh, his whiskey-smooth voice laced with amusement. “Takes one to know one, sweetheart.”

Before you could come up with a retort, he glanced down at the brown-paper-wrapped box in your hands. “That yours?”

“Yeah. Guess it’s from my Secret Santa.” You eyed him suspiciously. “Why? You know something?”

“Maybe.” His smirk deepened, and he tipped his glass toward the gift. “Go on. Open it.”

You hesitated, your pulse quickening as his gaze lingered on you. It was ridiculous how easily he could fluster you, how just standing near him made your heart race.

With a dramatic sigh, you pulled the string loose and tore open the paper. When you opened the box, your breath caught—and then a laugh burst out of you.

Inside was a lacy red garter belt, delicate and undeniably suggestive.

“Logan!” you hissed, your face burning as you quickly closed the lid. “This is wildly inappropriate.”

His grin widened, and he took another sip of his drink, his free hand resting on his hip. “Thought it’d suit you,” he said, his voice laced with teasing warmth.

Your heart thudded painfully in your chest as you tried to glare at him, though your lips betrayed you with an uncontrollable smile. “You’re insufferable.”

“Oh yeah?” He leaned in just a little, his smirk turning wicked. “Why don’t you show me just how insufferable you think I am?”

You were saved from answering by Hank handing Logan his own gift, wrapped in shiny gold paper. You watched as Logan tore into it with the casual precision of a man who didn’t give a damn about being neat.

Inside was a pack of cinnamon-flavoured breath mints and a small bottle of dark cologne that smells of musk and wood.

Logan chuckled, holding up the mints with a raised eyebrow. “This you?”

You grinned, trying to steady your voice despite the heat creeping up your neck. “Figured you'd need something to freshen up after all those drinks. Can’t have you smelling like whiskey and trouble.”

Logan’s grin deepened, and he stepped closer, his voice a low, teasing growl. “Oh yeah? And what if I want to smell like trouble?”

You leaned in just enough for your breath to brush against his ear, your voice dropping to a sultry whisper. “If you really want to see trouble, maybe I’ll try on that little gift you got me…” you trailed off, letting the challenge hang in the air, your eyes locking with his.

–

The door slammed shut behind you, and before you could catch your breath, Logan’s hands were on your waist, pulling you flush against him. His lips crashed into yours with a heat that sent a jolt of electricity straight through your body. The kiss was messy, urgent, the faint taste of whiskey still lingering on his mouth as your fingers tangled in his hair.

Your back hit the shelves with a soft thud, but you didn’t care, too lost in the way his body pressed against yours, solid and overwhelming. His hands slid up your sides, and you couldn’t help the soft sound that escaped your throat as his lips trailed along your jawline.

“Hold on,” you whispered, breathless, breaking away just enough to reach into his pocket. Logan’s smirk deepened as he watched you pop a cinnamon mint into your mouth, his gaze locked on your lips.

“You takin’ a breather already?” he teased, his voice low and rough, his fingers tracing lazy circles at your waist.

“Just freshening up,” you replied, your tone full of mischief as you tugged him closer by the collar of his shirt. Before he could respond, you kissed him again, nudging the mint into his mouth with your tongue.

Logan chuckled against your lips, the sound sending a shiver through you. “Always full of surprises,” he murmured, his words brushing against your skin as he kissed you deeper, the cinnamon’s warmth adding a sweet burn to the heat already between you.

You grinned, tilting your head to meet his next kiss with playful fervour. “Figured you’d appreciate a little spice.”

“Oh, I do,” he muttered, his lips moving to your neck, his voice thick with desire. “But I think you’re the only spice I’m gonna need.”

Mars speaks... (again) ty for reading, as always, all likes, comments, and reblogs are greatly appreciated (and encouraged)! hope y'all enjoyed my first fic after me not updating for nearly 4 months xx

[gladiatorcunt]

- ICEBREAKER / III.

i am the sun, you know you need me

cw: kinktober prompt (boot worship-ish), yandere behavior, confinement, mob boss!sunday, pet play without actually acting like a pet, canon typical controlling sunday, reader has a pussy, slight dehumanization, mean mean mean husband sunday but he loves you really, stockholm syndrome, pretend all the flowers & stuffed mentioned actually exist in hsr, sunday wins!au, one mention of halovian!reader

please do not repost, translate, or feed this work to ai

kinktober 2024

The invisible thread connecting you to Sunday has been spun into gold when you were not aware. You think you might’ve snuck in his cobblestone heart and done it in your sleep. It is an unspoken thing that festers within and eats you up from the inside until baby blue and white flower petals float down from your mouth, pleasantly aromatic bile becoming a fervent garden in your lungs. Overgrown but visually decadent and overwrought with confectionery and symbolism. Soul Glad spiked with an Aeon’s ichor.

Violets, baby’s breath, hydrangeas, forget-me-nots, sweet williams.

Not a single speck of dust is ever on him, and that includes his shoes. Dark brown leather and custom made, a gift he bought for himself that he was happy to say really came from you. A leader of a wealthy criminal organization could buy himself anything he wants, but it warms his icy heart to attach your name to it in his mind.

“You know I would never have you lick them if they were dirty, dove.” Sunday purrs, chin propped on his palm. “This isn’t to degrade you, you’d know what my vitriol would feel like. You’ve seen it directed towards less worthy patrons.”

He strokes a thumb down one of the wings on your head, fluffing the feathers and preening you as you “clean” his spotless shoe.

“Mmfh!” You slip your tongue in the grooves of his shoe, embracing the abrasions and coarse texture. “Yes, sir, I have.”

Interrogations, horrid screams, pleas for the gift of life and promises to pay back the money they owe, loud gunshots and his men dragging their bodies away. To be tossed over the edge of the dreamscape into the lilac depths. They’re always missing from the dream pools, a second death on the second day.

You’re slobbering now, your palms flat on your bare thighs as you work your mouth along the bottom of his left shoe.

Sunday chuckles and reaches out to wipe some of your drool away from the corner of your mouth, “Messy angel, you’re better than that.”

You’re not, the dampness seeping through your panties has you dead to rights. The wings on Sunday’s head flutter in amusement, nothing escapes his sight, he knows you down to the sparks of energy that make up your entire being. You’re the center of his eternal dream, his shining monument to what one would do for love.

“Teething on my shoes, you’re darling.” His even tone is basked in all the pleasure a man with the world at his feet (quite literally) could feel.

He nudges your jaw with the end of his right wing tip shoe, raising your head to make eye contact with you. You’re teary, but you still lap your tongue over the top of his left shoe, sucking it off like it’s a cock as you stay perfectly still. There’s always an unspoken test to see if you’ll give in to your baser urges and hump your slutty cunt against nothing.

But he does adore watching you squirm, his beloved pet rat in a golden maze of his own design.

You keep eye contact and lick a strip up the side of his shoe, tenderly kissing the tip before whining and moving your head after the one under your jaw.

“P-please, sir, let me finish my task before your next meeting. I don’t want you to be stressed.”

Sunday casts his gaze towards the oak doors, his wings tensing at the oncoming headache of his men surrounding him and awaiting his orders on how to further micromanage their territory. No matter, that’s the future, and he would much rather drift in the more pleasant present moment.

“The fish swim in the river however I tell them to. Take your time, my love.”

He can offer anything to you, whatever you want appearing before you in a flash, kept under lock and key at his extravagant manor. You never ask questions about what exactly he does or where he goes, but you don’t have to, he whispers it all to you freely. The truth holds no power over him when Sunday lives every day with the absence of lies.

You dot kisses on the leather toe of his right shoe, one your hands comes up to run your fingers in circles over his ankle. What makes this even better is that you ask for these sessions more than he orders them, an anxious little thing, being subservient helps quiet your racing thoughts and cabin fever.

Sunday feels generous, he taps his shoe against your cheek and takes it away, setting his foot firmly on the floor.

He beckons you with a come hither motion, “What would truly calm my nerves is to see my pet fall to pieces on my shoe. I’ll even let you get this pair messy with your spend, your scent would only make them my favorite.”

You hold in a happy squeal and eagerly straddle his foot, humping your panties down on the cool leather. The motion is slightly awkward, the friction brings you only a fraction of what you’re after. But the look in Sunday’s eyes as he watches you debase yourself for your husband, the thrill of doing such an act in a room that causes so much harm to everyone but you.

“That’s it, dove, dancing so beautifully for me.” He coos and keeps his foot still, content to be an audience member to the debauched show you’re putting on.

You whine, speeding up your movements and slicking up his shoe and the marbled floor beneath you. It’s not enough without him actively touching you, Sunday knows, so he shushes you and keeps patting your head rhythmically. Accompanying you on a fruitless journey towards an unsatisfying climax.

Sunday would never edge you, not when he could drown you and ply you with orgasm after orgasm. He would also never let you properly feel good without his touch. His lips quirk up as you whimper and come on the strip of skin where his ankle and foot disappears into his shoe. You keep pumping your hips, slipping and sliding with your come splattered on the leather and easing the glide.

If he takes them off after he sends you off to bed with a pat to your ass, and sniffs the soles, then that’s no one’s business but his. Another scene in the dream.

[wholoveseggs]

Hey, just an idea that would work really well, I think. Can you do a smut with a horribly jealous Elijah? They have a casual affair going because she has severe intimacy issues, but Elijah is deeply in love and needs her to realize that?

Strings

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

You've denied what your heart wants for so long and Elijah is tired of waiting.

♡♡ Thanks for the request, I may have gotten a little carried away with this one ♡♡

6.2k words - Warnings: smut, lots of drinking / drunkenness, men being gross, white knight Elijah, dom!elijah (as dom as I can write it, I'm just a sappy romantic), rough(ish) sex, rim job (f!receiving), blood drinking, biting & hangovers.

{Moodboard->}

It was annoying, really, how good Elijah was in bed. You never thought you would be the kind of girl who would lose your mind over a simple touch, but you couldn't get enough. You had never felt this way, even after months of sex, and it was maddening.

You had started sleeping together on a whim, one night of drinking leading to a night of fun. It was just meant to be a one-time thing, but it became more frequent, and then more, until you found yourself spending more time with him than alone.

‘No strings attached’ you had said when you first started sleeping together, but as time went on, Elijah was getting more and more attached and so were you.

When you were underneath him, clinging to his strong shoulders, panting and moaning as he completely unraveled you, it was easy to forget that it was supposed to be casual. But then his gaze would lock onto yours, those dark intense eyes with so much love pouring out of them and you couldn't stand it.

You would close your eyes and look away, your heart beating so hard you thought it would explode. He would always pause for a second, then keep going.

This wasn't supposed to happen, this wasn't the deal, and you wanted him to stop, but at the same time you didn't. The look he gave you frightened you, it was like he was seeing inside your soul, seeing all the parts of you that you tried so hard to keep secret.

Elijah had never hidden the fact that he wanted more from you, but he had respected your boundaries. He hid how much it hurt him when you told him that you didn't want more, and you knew that, yet he kept going, because he couldn't stay away from you.

He would give you anything you asked for, and he would take anything you gave him, and he would never tell you that he was unhappy.

He was always so good to you.

Until you started seeing other people.

And then he wasn't so good.

Elijah heard the click of your boots before you even entered the compound. He'd been listening for them all morning, his ears trained to the sound, his heart lifting every time a woman with the right footfall walked in. Only when he'd heard you arrive would he relax his shoulders, his mind no longer consumed with the idea of you and another man together.

It was a new torture. Before, he had just wanted you. Now, he had you, and he knew that someone else was touching you, and that someone wasn't him.

"Beks! Beks! Oh my God, what a night!" You came bounding through the courtyard, you had a coffee in one hand and a fresh bouquet of flowers in the other. Still in the same clothes you left in last night, the only change was your makeup smudged, your hair a little messy.

Elijah watched you from the balcony above. You hadn't seen him yet. You were too busy gushing to Rebekah, who had been waiting eagerly for your return.

"What happened? I lost you after we did those shots with Klaus." Rebekah asked, taking the flowers and looking you over.

"Okay, you know that hot guy who was flirting with me at the bar? Well I went to some house party with him and a few of his friends," You said, sitting down next to Rebekah and taking a long sip of coffee. "So we were all drinking, and then we did some shots, and then a couple of lines, and then one thing led to another..."

You trailed off, grinning at her. She gave you a look, gesturing for you to go on.

Elijah tried his best not to listen, but he could help himself. He had never been able to resist the sound of your voice.

"So what happened?" She asked.

"Well, we ended up in the kitchen and he was fucking me against the counter," You said with a giggle.

"Was he any good?"

"Not really," You replied, taking a big gulp of coffee and rolling your eyes. "But the kitchen was real fancy, and there was a maid who saw us."

Rebekah laughed, shaking her head.

"That is classic, darling," She said, handing you back the flowers.

"Yeah, and then when I was on my way out in the morning I stole these right out of a vase," You said proudly, putting them down on the table next to you.

The sound of your giggles floated up to him. It was utterly infuriating, and at the same time, it was like a balm to his soul.

Elijah had never felt this way before.

Pure, untamed, jealousy.

He knew he shouldn't care, he knew he should be happy for you, but he couldn't stop thinking about you with other men. He couldn't stop wondering what it was like, what they were like. What did they say to you, did they make you laugh, did they touch you the way he did?

Did you want them, the way you wanted him?

And most importantly, why wasn't he enough?

"So are you going to see him again? Did he get your number?" Rebekah asked, breaking Elijah out of his dark thoughts.

"No, and yes. He wanted to go out again tonight," You replied.

"Are you going to say yes?"

"Maybe," You said, shrugging. "I'd prefer to go out with you guys, though. Maybe we could get Kol to come along."

"That would be lovely, maybe we could even convince Elijah to join," Rebekah said, smiling mischievously.

Elijah perked up at this and decided to make his presence known. He descended the stairs, trying to appear nonchalant, his usual charming self.

"Good morning, ladies," He said, his eyes fixed on you. You turned and smiled, and it made his heart skip a beat.

"Hey," You replied, grinning.

"We were just talking about going out tonight," Rebekah said, glancing between you.

"Oh? Where are you going?" Elijah asked.

"Not sure yet, wherever Beks wants," You replied. "But we were thinking that we could all go, you included."

Elijah tried not to react. He didn't want to go anywhere, not if you were going to bring one of your...paramours.

"Maybe," He said, keeping his tone light.

"Aw, come on, please?" You begged, flashing him those big, pretty eyes and batting your eyelashes.

"Yes, come with us," Rebekah joined in.

Elijah knew he would cave, like always. He couldn't say no to you, not when you looked at him like that.

"Fine," He agreed, and Rebekah and you cheered.

"It'll be fun, I promise," You said, and Elijah hoped so. He didn't think he could take much more of this.

Elijah found himself in the back of a car with his siblings. He had tried to stay home, to come up with an excuse, but Rebekah had dragged him out the door and into the car, saying that she didn't want him to sit at home and brood all night.

You were sitting in the passenger seat, talking animatedly to Rebekah. Klaus was driving, and Kol was on the phone with Davina, telling her all about the plans for the night.

"I can't believe we managed to get you out of the house without you wearing a suit," you teased, admiring his outfit. He had opted for a white shirt and black pants, his sleeves rolled up and his collar unbuttoned. He looked ridiculously good.

"I can dress casually, when I want to," He said, a slight smile playing on his lips.

"Maybe when you are going to bed," You replied, winking. He raised his eyebrows and smirked, the sight of it sending a rush of heat to your core.

"I'd be happy to show you, if you would like," He said, his voice deep and sexy.

The rest of the Mikaelsons didn't know about the affair you and Elijah were having. It was meant to be casual, you didn't want anything serious, and so the two of you were keeping it a secret. But they definitely suspected something was up, considering the flirting, the longing looks, and the time Klaus saw Elijah sneaking out of your room.

"Maybe later, if you're lucky," You shot back, giving him a wink.

He chuckled and shook his head, trying not to grin like an idiot. He was failing.

"Don't mind me, I'll just sit here and pretend I can't hear any of this," Kol interjected, looking up from his phone.

"Hush, brother," Elijah said, and Kol made a face, returning his attention to Davina.

You continued talking to Rebekah and Kol, trying to ignore the heat of Elijah's gaze on you.

When you arrived at the club, Kol immediately disappeared to go find Davina and Klaus was swarmed by women within seconds of entering the place.

You and Rebekah got drinks, and Elijah stayed close, trying not to stare at the way you moved your hips, the way your skin glowed in the dark, the way the tight dress you wore clung to your curves.

"Dance with me," You said, turning and holding out a hand. Elijah hesitated, his eyes roaming your body.

"I don't dance," He said.

"Liar," You accused, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the crowd. He followed, letting you lead him.

Once you reached the dance floor, you started moving to the beat. Your hands rested on his chest, his arms wrapping around you, the two of you moving together. The way you felt around him was indescribable, and you never wanted to leave his embrace.

The music was loud, and the people were packed together. He could feel the warmth of your body, the softness of your skin, the way your breath hitched when he pulled you closer.

You leaned in close, your lips brushing against his ear, and he inhaled sharply.

"Come on, Elijah, have some fun," You purred.

"I'm having plenty of fun," He replied, his voice low and rough.

"Are you sure? You seem a little tense," You teased, your hand slipping under the bottom of his shirt, feeling his skin.

"I'm sure," He said, his hand resting on your waist.

You smiled, your eyes glittering with mischief.

"Let's go somewhere quieter, then," You suggested, pulling him away from the dance floor and towards a secluded corner.

"Is that a good idea?" He asked, his tone serious, but his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"Probably not," You replied, and he grinned.

You stopped, the two of you hidden by shadows, and Elijah pressed his lips to yours. You could taste the hint of whiskey, the faint scent of his cologne lingering on his skin. 

He was so gentle, his hands cupping your cheeks as he kissed you slowly, his lips warm and soft against yours. You wanted something more aggressive from him, you tugged at his hair, trying to deepen the kiss, but he kept his pace slow, steady, torturous.

You pulled away, the alcohol coursing through your veins, your head spinning. You could hear your heartbeat thumping in your ears, feel his breath hot on your cheek.

He was gazing at you, his eyes dark and intense, and you felt a surge of fear and vulnerability that made you snap.

"Stop. Doing. That." You said, pulling away.

"What?"

"Looking at me like that," You replied.

"How am I looking at you?"

"Like...like..." You trailed off, unsure how to explain it. Like he was looking at you like he loved you, like he wanted you. It was unsettling.

"Like I love you? Because I do."

"Shut up," You muttered, avoiding his gaze.

He took your chin and forced you to look at him. His expression was serious, his gaze boring into yours.

"What do I have to do to convince you?" He said pressing you further into the wall, his body trapping yours.

"Do I have to fuck you so hard you never think about another man again?" He growled. "Is that what you want?"

You stared at him, unable to speak.

"Do you want me to tear off your clothes right here and now, and fuck you against the wall, where anyone could see us? Is that what it will take to convince you?" He said, his voice low and husky.

Your mouth opened, but no words came out.

He chuckled, and his lips were on yours, kissing you deeply, passionately, making your knees weak and your heart race. His hands were everywhere, pulling at your clothes, touching every inch of your skin.

"What do I have to do to make you mine and only mine?" He asked, his voice thick and raspy, his fingers gripping your hips and digging in.

You whimpered, trying to catch your breath. He was usually so reserved, so gentle and controlled. This was something else, this was him letting go, and it was overwhelming.

"Lijah-," You moaned, trying to form a coherent thought. "I need some air," You said, pushing him away.

He reluctantly let you go, watching you walk away with pain in his eyes.

You slipped through the crowd and towards the bar, ordering a drink and trying to compose yourself. You could still feel his body heat, his touch on your skin.

"Hey dollface," A voice came from behind you. It was a guy you'd met the night before. Flashes of the fancy kitchen returned to your mind, but you really didn't want to repeat what you'd done last night.

"Hey," You said, smiling politely. "I didn't expect to see you here."

"Yeah, me neither," He laughed. "Can I buy you a drink?"

"Thanks," You replied, finishing the one in your hand. "I'll have a whiskey,"

"Be right back," He winked, disappearing towards the bartender.

You waited for a few minutes before he came back with two glasses of whiskey.

"What are you doing tonight?” He said, giving you a flirty smile.

You gave him a coy smile, sipping your drink.

"Oh, I don't know. Whatever you're into," You said, watching his expression change.

You loved this, the chase, the anticipation of knowing what would happen next. It wasn't even necessarily about the sex, it was about being wanted. You loved to be touched, to be desired, to be looked at with awe and lust. It was easy for you, just a game that you liked to play, a way to make you feel special.

But Elijah was still on your mind, eating away at any enjoyment you should be getting out of this encounter. So you drank, more than you usually did, hoping the alcohol would help numb the feelings you had for him.

Unfortunately, it only made everything worse.

You didn't care about this guy, nor did you want to sleep with him again, you were just enjoying the attention. You needed to forget Elijah and focus on something else, anything.

The rest of the night became a blur, a messy, meaningless haze of alcohol and sounds and hands on your skin. You lost track of time, you stopped caring and you found yourself outside the club, being pulled towards his car, giggling and hiccupping the whole time.

"Come on, sugar, it'll be fun," He slurred, wrapping an arm around you. "Let's have another round at my place," He was trying to pull you into the backseat, and you were too drunk and dizzy to put up a fight.

"I don't know," you mumbled, trying to focus on his face but having a hard time keeping him in your line of vision. He flashed you a dopey smile, leaning in and giving you a sloppy kiss.

"My friieennds will be worried," you protested, trying to get him off you. He wasn't really listening, his attention focusing on groping your ass. You tried to get him to let go of you, pushing on his chest, but he didn't budge.

"I'm sory-" you slurred, "tis was bad idea,"

"Why?" He asked, confusion etched across his face.

"I'm farrrrr to drunk," you said, the words coming out slowly, "I shouldna had that fifth drink,"

"You're very cute when you're drunk," he chuckled, wrapping his arms around your waist.

"Shtop," you slurred, struggling to get out of his grasp.

You saw Elijah leaving the club with Klaus and tried to push the man off.

"My frriiieends areleaving,"

"Come on, they'll understand," he replied, tightening his grip on you.

You started to panic, the world was spinning, and you couldn't think straight. Elijah saw you and came over, the look on his face making it clear that he knew what was going on.

"Lijah-" you said, reaching for him.

The man backed off immediately when he saw Elijah, running his hand through his hair nervously.

"Are you okay?" Elijah asked, pulling you into his arms. You collapsed against his chest, breathing in his familiar scent.

"Too drunk," you slurred, your head lolling against his chest.

He picked you up bridal style, glaring at the man, who was shrinking into himself. He brought you to the car and sat you down in the back seat, he leaned over to fasten your seatbelt and you looked up at him, trying to focus on his face.

"I'm sorry, he jus-just wouldn't stop." You said, your words coming out slowly.

Elijah's demeanor completely changed when he saw how drunk you were. He could smell the alcohol on your breath, see the fog in your eyes.

"Klaus, watch her. I'll be right back," he said, before disappearing.

You tilted your head back, the whole car felt like it was spinning. Klaus was saying something you couldn't quite make out, the words muffled.

You sat in silence for a few minutes, until Elijah came back and got in the car. He had a grim look on his face and there was blood on his shirt.

"Lij-lijah," You whispered, reaching out for him as he sat next to you. "Please tell me you didn't killed him,"

Elijah didn't say a word, just wrapped his arm around you and pulled you close. You leaned into his embrace, resting your head on his shoulder.

"Thank you," You mumbled, your words slurring together.

He smiled slightly, holding you tightly.

You began to drift off to sleep, feeling safe in his arms. He stroked your hair, pressing a kiss to the top of your head.

Elijah was hurt that you ran away after his confession. He was the patient one, the one who always waited for you, always put you first. But he was tired of waiting. He couldn't pretend to not have feelings for you anymore, so he'd said something. Then you fled, too scared of commitment, too frightened of intimacy to stick around.

He'd hoped you would give him a chance, that you could learn to trust him and open your heart. But you had rejected him, again and again, and he was done waiting for you to change your mind.

When the car pulled up in front of the compound, you stumbled out, the alcohol making you unsteady on your feet. Your heels making it impossible to walk properly.

You took a tumble but Klaus caught you, wrapping an arm around your waist and helping you stay upright.

"I got her," Elijah said, his voice soft.

"I'm fiiiiinnnnneeee," You protested, trying to push them away, but you fell again and Elijah picked you up and carried you.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and rested your head on his shoulder, breathing in his scent.

"Always such a gentleman," You giggled, your face buried in his neck.

"Sometimes," He said, amusement clear in his voice.

"You look very nice tonight," you added, tugging at his hair.

He brought you to your room and set you on the bed, pulling off your heels and helping you under the blankets.

"Lijah I'm cold, will you come keep me warm?" You pouted, batting your eyelashes at him.

Elijah let out a long sigh, and climbed into bed with you, his arms wrapped around your waist.

You cuddled up to him, enjoying the feeling of his strong arms around you. You couldn't deny the feelings you had for him, but you were determined to push them away. You didn't deserve him, he was far too good for you.

"I'm sorry, Lijah," You whispered, you placed your thigh around his hips, wrapping yourself around him. You wanted him closer, you wanted to feel his skin against yours, feel his heartbeat against your chest. "I want you," you breathed, pressing your lips to his.

He didn't respond, just pulled his head back and stared at you. His gaze was intense, and you found yourself unable to look away, you felt like your heart was being cracked open, exposed.

"No, you don't, you're just drunk," He whispered, his breath hot on your cheek. You were confused, conflicted by the emotions you were feeling, the sensations his closeness provoked.

"Let me show you," You whispered, grabbing the lapels of his jacket, trying to kiss him again, but he pulled back, breaking your hold.

You whimpered, frustrated, as he carefully unwound your arms, freeing himself.

"I can't keep doing this," He said, his voice pained, "it's not fair to either of us. I'm done being the second choice. I'm done being the one you run to when you have nowhere else to go."

"That's not true-" You said, tears welling up in your eyes. You felt like your heart was breaking, shattering into a million pieces, but you couldn't let him know, you couldn't show how much you were hurting.

"Isn't it?" He asked, his tone calm, but there was a fury in his eyes, "I love you, but this isn't working. I'm done wasting my time waiting for you to pick me. I'm just...I'm done,"

You felt like he'd punched you in the gut, your heart was pounding, your stomach twisting in knots. You tried to think of a reply, but you couldn't find any words. You laid there in silence, unable to speak.

He looked at you for a moment, then nodded to himself, as if he'd made up his mind. He got out of bed and left without a word.

Your mind raced as you processed what had just happened.

You were overwhelmed, your emotions a hurricane in your mind. Everything was a mess. You could feel your heart rate rising, your body starting to shake, your breathing coming in shallow bursts. You closed your eyes, trying to calm yourself down, trying to relax, but the panic wouldn't go away.

Then it started, you were shaking uncontrollably, tears pouring down your face, and you couldn't stop crying. You rolled onto your side and curled into a ball, gripping your legs as tightly as possible, the tears flowing freely as you let out a strangled sob.

You cried yourself to sleep, Elijah's name on your lips.

The next morning, you woke up with a pounding headache and a mouthful of sand. Your whole body ached, and the sunlight streaming through the windows made your head throb.

You dragged yourself from the shower, then to the kitchen, in search of coffee like it was a life line.

"Morning, sunshine," Rebekah chirped, way too cheerful for how shitty you felt.

You just grunted in response, pouring yourself a cup of coffee and adding a splash of whiskey. "Can you turn me so I don't have to feel like shit," You asked, leaning against the counter.

Rebekah snorted, sipping her coffee.

"That's a terrible reason to become a vampire," She replied, raising an eyebrow.

"Well, it would save me from hangovers," You shot back, and she shook her head, amused.

"So, how was your night?" You asked, and she smirked, her eyes glinting with mischief.

"It was fantastic," She replied, and you chuckled, taking a long drink of your coffee.

"I'm glad someone had a good time," You said, and she gave you a sympathetic look.

"I thought you and Elijah were hitting it off?" She asked, and you sighed, shaking your head.

"It's complicated," You replied, not wanting to go into detail.

"It's not," she replied, her tone matter-of-fact. "You are just making it so,"

You glared at her, irritated.

"Look, I'm not trying to pry, but I've seen the way you two look at each other. You are both just being stubborn," She continued, and you huffed, rolling your eyes.

"Whatever, I don't want to talk about it," You replied, trying to change the subject.

"Love can be messy," She said, and you laughed, shaking your head.

"Yeah, that's why I don't do it," You replied, and she gave you a look, her brow furrowed.

"You love Elijah, it's not a dirty word," She said, and you scoffed.

"I do not," You protested, and she sighed, exasperated.

"Love isn't something you can opt out of," She replied, her voice soft. "Trust me I've tried,"

You were silent, unable to think of a retort.

"You are just scared, that's all," She continued, and you looked away, not wanting to meet her gaze.

"There's nothing wrong with that, but it's also no reason to run away," She added, her voice gentle.

"I'm not running, I'm living my best life," You replied, a hint of bitterness in your voice.

She just stared at you, her expression one of pity.

"Yeah, well, maybe your best life needs some changes," She said, finishing her coffee and standing up. "I'll see you later,"

You slunk into a chair, nursing your coffee and trying to ignore the gnawing feeling in your stomach.

You didn't even try to deny her accusations, the words dying in your throat. Because she was right, you were scared.

You found Elijah in his room, sitting on the window seat, reading. He looked up when you entered, a small smile on his face.

"How are you feeling? He asked.

"Like shit," You mumbled, shuffling your feet.

"Understandable," He replied, looking back down at his book.

You fidgeted with the hem of your dress, unable to meet his gaze.

"So, last night..." You started, trailing off.

He glanced at you, a curious look on his face.

"I'm sorry," You continued, looking down at your feet.

He put his book down and stood up, walking over to you. He kept his distance, but there was a familiar look in his eyes.

"Did you really mean it? When you said you didn't want this?" You asked, gesturing between the two of you.

"What would you have me do?" He asked, his expression unreadable.

You opened your mouth to say something, but nothing came out. You didn't know what to say, you didn't have the words to describe what you were feeling. So you did what you always did when things got tough, you shut down, closed yourself off and tried to run.

You turned away, ready to walk out, but Elijah grabbed your arm, stopping you. He pulled you close, his face inches from yours.

"Why do you keep pushing me away?" He asked, his voice soft.

You swallowed hard, your throat dry. You tried to think of something to say, something that would make him understand, but your mind was blank.

"Because... Because I'm scared," You said, your voice barely a whisper.

He lifted your chin up, his gaze searching yours.

"What are you afraid of?" He asked, and you let out a shaky breath.

"I'm afraid of losing you," You said, your voice breaking slightly. "I'm afraid that you'll break my heart,"

His eyes grew dark and he pushed you back against the wall. Your heart hammered in your chest, fear and desire surging through your body. His hands gripped your hips, his gaze hungry and dangerous. You saw his desire, his love, and for once, you didn't want to run from it.

You pushed against his chest, your breathing becoming shallow, but he didn't budge. He was firm, unyielding, just like his love for you.

 His hands traveled up your body, pushing up your dress. He pulled it over your head and tossed it aside, leaving you exposed and vulnerable before him. He looked down at you, drinking in the sight, and you felt a rush of heat in your core. His gaze was almost too much to bear, but you held it, refusing to back down. He pressed his lips to yours, the kiss hungry and rough, and you moaned against his lips.

"I can't share you anymore," he whispered, his voice strained with effort, his nose buried in your neck.

"You don't have to," you mumbled, gasping when he sank his fangs into your neck. You gripped his shoulders, holding on for dear life.

"Good," he growled, withdrawing his fangs. His tongue lapped at your neck, sending a wave of pleasure through you.

"Mine," he said, a possessive edge to his voice.

You trembled under his touch, his kiss growing even more heated. He pinned your wrists above your head with one hand, the other gripping your waist, his fingers digging into your skin. He lifted your thigh, wrapping it around his hips and pressing your back against the wall.

"I'm going keep you in my bed until you understand," he growled, and you moaned, unable to think straight.

He ripped your panties off, tossing them aside before sinking two fingers into you. You arched your back, grinding against his hand, desperate for relief. He pressed his thumb against your clit, rubbing it in slow circles as his fingers pumped into you.

He watched you, a small smirk on his face, enjoying the way you came undone beneath him. Something in him had snapped, and he could not longer hold back his need for you to be his. He tried many times to show you how much he loves you, but you always ran away at the first sign of intimacy. Not this time though, he was going to break down every wall you'd built and claim you.

You were getting closer to the edge, your breathing labored as your pleasure built. Just as you were on the verge, he removed his fingers from you, denying you relief. You cried out, trying to grind against him, but he held you still. He loved seeing you like this, desperate and begging for him.

"Now you know how I feel," he whispered, and you gasped, his words sending a shockwave through you.

He chuckled softly, his breath warm against your neck. He wrapped his arms around your waist and flipped you around, slamming you against the wall, making the painting beside you rattling in its place.

He pressed himself into your back, his hand circling your throat, the other wandering freely. He ran his finger along the clasp of your bra, freeing your breasts from the lacy material.

His fingers traced your nipples, teasing them into stiff peaks, his lips on your neck. You whimpered as he rolled his hips against you, the bulge in his pants rubbing against your ass.

"I'm going to mark every inch of your perfect skin," He purred, his voice thick with desire. "So everyone knows you are mine,"

He nipped at your neck, his fangs threatening to break the surface again. You moaned, grinding against him, desperate for more. He chuckled, sucking at the spot on your neck, leaving a dark hickey behind.

He pulled you away from the wall and pushed you onto the bed, forcing you onto all fours. His hands gripped your hips, and he leaned forward, licking a strip down the length of your spine. You shivered, your whole body alive and sensitive to his touch. He slid his tongue between your cheeks, stopping to suck and lick at your tight little hole, sending wave after wave of pleasure through you.

You tried to sit up but he pushed you back down, his tongue spearing into your rear entrance. You moaned, squirming under him, your face flushed with desire. He inserted a finger into your pussy, and began to slowly fuck you.

It didn't take long for your thighs to start shaking, your muscles tensing as your orgasm approached. You bit your lip, trying to hold back, but it was futile. You let go with a low moan and suddenly yelped as he sunk his fangs into your ass cheek.

"Lijah!" You exclaimed, surprised.

This rough, wild side of him, so completely different from the gentle, refined man you knew, it scared and excited you. The way took control was the most erotic thing you've experienced in a long time.

He flipped you over and pressed you down onto the bed, straddling you. His pupils were blown wide, his lips stained red with blood, his breathing heavy. You tried to reach up and touch him, but he pinned your wrists down. You lay there, unable to move, completely at his mercy. You had never felt so safe and loved in your entire life.

He freed your wrists kissed them gently, a soothing gesture that contrasted with the roughness from earlier. His lips trailed down your arms, kissing, sucking, and nipping at your skin. You shuddered as his breath ghosted against your neck.

You tugged at his shirt, and he let you strip him of it, his bare skin warm and firm against your own. You ran your hands over his chest, relishing the feel of him.

He pulled off his pants, laying down beside you, your naked bodies intertwining. You stared up at him, a soft smile on your lips. He returned it, his gaze unguarded and gentle. He captured your lips in a sweet kiss, his hands stroking your face and hair.

"I'm sorry for being a fool," you said softly, your eyes glassy with tears.

"Shhh," he murmured, nuzzling your neck. "You have nothing to be sorry for,"

"I do," you insisted. "I love you, I've always loved you. I was just...I was just scared to admit it, to myself or anyone else."

You looked up at him, your expression vulnerable, your eyes pleading. He smiled softly and brushed his lips against yours, a gentle kiss, almost a question.

"Be mine, only mine," he whispered, his forehead resting against yours.

"Yes," you breathed, your heart hammering in your chest. "Always."

He parted your legs and slowly eased inside of you, a growl rumbling deep in his chest. He began moving his hips in a rhythmic motion, his fingers gripping the sheets.

You looked into his eyes, feeling whole. He was giving you such pleasure, and his love radiated from him, engulfing you. Everything behind his eyes, the trust and tenderness, the pain and loneliness, you saw all of it.

It made you feel like you were part of his inner world. He was baring his soul to you, letting you in and you were doing the same, letting him see beyond all of the walls and boundaries, right into the depths of your heart and spirit.

And the intensity of it all wasn't scary, it felt liberating, it felt right. His body was just a shell for his fire, for the overwhelming love he felt for you. You both weren't physical beings anymore, but something beyond. Like you are one entity, one flame, burning bright.

You couldn't really describe how you felt, but there was this sense of completion, like you've found something that had been missing all this time. You could see it in his eyes too, a weight had been lifted off his shoulders and he looked lighter somehow.

You two were making love, and you were both acutely aware of it. There was no mistaking this for anything less, even if you tried. Time seemed to stand still and the outside world fell away, leaving only the two of you. No past or future, just the present.

You didn't need to talk, there was no need for words. You could feel his thoughts, and you could feel him understand yours, the two of you harmonizing and flowing with each other in an endless, gentle rhythm.

This was what he wanted all this time, to show you what sex can really mean when it is shared between two souls, two hearts. Not just animalistic fucking, but pure love-making, a deeper level of intimacy. And you understood now, you were becoming one.

You didn't know how long you had been making love, it could have been hours, or maybe it was days. All you knew was that it was the best experience of your life.

He was being serious when he said he was going to keep you in his bed until you understood. And now you do, now you understand what it means to be loved by him. What it is like to be part of him, to share that connection, that bond.

Your bodies were covered with sweat, entangled as one, both of you out of breath. Every muscle was sore but you didn't care. You were drunk off his love.

"Can we stay like this forever?" You asked, your eyes half closed, exhaustion setting in.

"Yes," He whispered, caressing your cheek. "Because you are mine, all mine,"

"Yours," you said sleepily, snuggling into him.

This was just one night together, a small taste of what being with him was going to be like, and you knew you would never be the same again. He had destroyed your walls and torn down every boundary you had built around yourself.

He held your bleeding heart in his hands, and instead of crushing it, he gave you his own.

{Moodboard->}

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

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[with-my-calamitous-love]

FOREVER IS THE SWEETEST CON

chuuya nakahara x reader

a love letter from chuuya to you.

inspired by cowboy like me

doll,

hope this letter finds you well. i’m imagining how you look when you open this. you’ve just woken up, your hair still messy how i like it. are you wearing those nighties i bought you? they look so good on you. they might have been for me more than for you. but i love how excited you get about clothes, i couldn’t help myself.

when i fell in love with you i knew it wasn’t just a fling. doll, i’m so used to those short, one night stands with girls who don’t bother to learn my name. romances that never actually completed me. when i met you i wanted so much more than just to feel you. i found something i wanted to protect, something worth growing old for.

and you’ve been through quite your fair share of past romances. i can imagine the men you’ve swindled hoping you were the one. i consider myself lucky, knowing i’m the one that gets to love you. and i promise you, that i’ll love you so much stronger and brighter than you have ever experienced. i’d do it even if you didn’t want me too. loving you is like breathing for me, anyway.

for all my life, i have seen evil upon evil. i’ve seen all the bad parts of the world, enough to know that nothing good can last forever. with that said, you have absolutely no idea what you do to me, do you?

i truly believed that forever was simply a con, just some lie people tell you. but you, doll, have helped me understand what forever actually feels like. it isn’t just bliss, and being happy all the time. forever means forgiving each other. forever means keeping my boots under your bed. forever means acknowledging that it might not actually be forever, but being with you is what counts.

and if god forbid, i ever lost you… i’d never love again.

of all of this to say, i love you. and i bought you flowers again. ane-san told me adding some sugar to the water helps them stay fresh longer. i’ll be back late tonight, so don’t wait up for me. or do. you’re so cute when you’re all tired, anyway.

yours,

chuuya

[quivm]

— Miles Morales' future.

Earth 42 Miles Morales x gn reader light light angst (?). minors can interact! major spoilers for across the spiderverse. ૮ ˶´ ᵕˋ ˶ა

wc: 1.2k

genre + warnings:

very light angst if it even is idk who to describe it. extreme possessiveness (yandere), implied manipulation, implied death, kidnapping, being followed, gn reader but feminine pet names are used

notes!! i saw @ichangedmycornyahhname work of 42 Miles and got so inspired i was so happy. i watched ATSV the day it came out and saw 42 Miles was working in alchemax when they looked at where the spider came from so 42 Miles is really smart and my brain went smart villain = dangerous / manipulative with his intelligence ?? i love this headcannon so part 2 or other ff with this hc is definitely pending o(≧▽≦)o

Your steps hastened, desperate to reach the end of the alleyway. Your unbridled heartbeat raged as the echoes of the rapid steps behind you increased. The dread and unease of the situation washed over your body as you came to the reality of the situation - you were being followed.

Anxiety at the forefront of the many emotions bubbling up worsened your ability to keep a level head. Realistically, your capture was unlikely. The claim Miles had on you was well known throughout the criminal world as an unspoken rule. Never touch any hair on your head. An immense help in day to day life in the overpoliced and crime riddled city of New York but you didnt know that.

This time though it seemed that unspoken immunity ran out, seeing as you were targeted after closing up shop and walking home. Words could not describe the terror that fell into your stomach as an icy hand lurched forward subduing you.

“Where are you going pretty? You have a nice bag, huh.”

This was it. Your end would not be in action or helping people. No, your deeming end was going to be by a group of thoughtless thugs way over their heads. When a frosty cloth was pressed against your nose it reaffirmed your thoughts. This was your deathbed.

____

A dreary house was the first sight you saw as you gained consciousness. The organised but messy state made it abundantly clear to you someone was in constant use of it, although it was not welcoming or homey. Fires and mayhem in the skyline gleamed in the window, a bittersweet view. Sadden because that was your life forever unless you leave NYC- which you could never afford but reassuring in the fact that you were still in Brooklyn as harrowing as it is.

Times like this made you resent Brooklyn, there was no one to help. The police had more problems than officers, criminals were rampant and encouraged. The city felt empty, everyone was on their own to see the next day. Community was fragile and easy to shatter into a moment of the past.

Fright jolted up your spine. The heavy steps clanged toward the door. Even though you were not tied up it was a matter of time. Maybe the men would let you go? Maybe they were here to tie you up? Racing through your mind all sort of nonsense was thought about, until the step stopped right outside the door. The door creaked open, on its last leg.

The illuminating light from the hallway and window shone on you. Survival was the only thought on your mind, though fleeting and hopeless. It seemed only achievable through pretending to be asleep. Your motionless body layed frigid, shallow breaths was all that seemed manageable as the heavy boot came to a stop right infornt of you.

“I know you're awake.”

The short and sweet statement shook your world. Fear paralysing you as you reacted by trembling inconsolably as you cracked open your eyes. The dizzying onslaught of purple welcomed you as you looked at your kidnapper. Horror consumed your soul. It was the prowler. Contradicting previous thoughts, you knew you were over your head.

Before the tears pooled in your eyes could drop, as well as your pride as you were getting ready to beg for mercy, another statement from the masked man was made in the same chilling voice although this time laced with amusement.

“Calm down princesa it’s me.”

The sound of the mask slowly unveiling the man underneath echoed throughout the room. Confusion bloomed in your mind. Everything you knew blown out the window leaving only fright and shock.

“Miles?”

Your rough around the edges, attentive boyfriend who treated you with the utmost respect was the prowler? The prowler who everyone in NYC knew. The man with no enemies as he took them all out. The man who created New York into the shit hole it was today was your Miles? The universe must hate you and everything you stand for because worthwise why would it play the shitest card it has on you.

You knew Miles was on the streets doing crime, he told you when the relationship got serious. As concerning as it was you knew you couldn’t stop it and tried to help him any way you could to make sure he got home safe. But you never expected he wasn’t just on the crime scene he ran it for the whole of New York. That changes everything.

“Mi vida, I know this is a shock-”.

“No! This is more than a shock Miles!”

Everything your relationship was built on was slowly chipping away. You both shared the most vulnerable intimate parts of your lifes, you thought you knew him. But he was practically a stranger. A second life untouched and hidden away which made him who he was today. This wasn’t something that could be blown over. With more confidence and left over adrenaline you stood up next to him.

“Why am I here Miles?”

This large reveal couldn’t take your mind off last night's events. You were kidnapped by a group of men and then you suddenly woke up here with Miles. Did that mean Miles ordered it? He could have come to see you though. None of it made sense and you needed clarity.

“Last night you were touched by some low lives. That's unacceptable princessa. I went over with Uncle Aaron and took care of them, don’t worry you're safe now.”

The gentle caressing of his hand on your cheek which would have been comforting in any other context wafted the smell of iron to your nose and felt inexplicably cold on your cheek. You knew what being ‘taken care of’ mean’t, you caused deaths. You were Miles’ and he was a possessive man, no one could touch you without facing the consequences. Your ability to walk downtown and come out unscathed made sense; you weren’t lucky you were a death warrant.

“Mi vida you are mine and no one could take you from me. Comprendido?”

Reality sunk in. You weren’t only Miles' partner, you were his future. He loved you, you were his lifeline to sanity after his Father died and he had shoulder the responsibilities of the family. The only semblance to normality and happiness in his life other than the close circle of loved ones that were Uncle Aaron and his Mother. And that circle only had one more space for you. He would never let go of you, he viewed you as an extension of himself. There was no where you could escape too, he owns NYC any manhunt he orders would end quickly. People feared his power and strength but laid dead from his intelligence and foresight.

There was nowhere you could run except into his arms.

[willowed-wisp]

I’m really fucking drunk right now

But the request is to just make Soap and Ghost happy, however you decide to do that 😭

Complete freedom of uhhhhhhhh prompt just that, idk, I’m floating off the face of the earth right now I am not here nope nowhere too much wine I think but it was fun 👍

mistletoe [ ghost ]

————

I hope I did well with the request given, it said to make Soap and Ghost happy. And the boys do need some love. And anonymous, I feel you- my exact though process on wine lol

————

————

Christmas, the time of giving… even in the military… even in its special branches. You were the only female on your squad, which meant one thing. You would be the only one getting them presents, because that’s just what you did at the festive season.

No missions, but you did find out from Price the most vagrant member of the teams’ phone number; being placed with him and Soap on most occasions.

When he didn’t respond to your text message to meet up, you set Soap on the case. You didn’t have family, Johnny didn’t speak to his and Simon you really had no clue about… the 23rd December rolls on, you had been up since four in the morning from habit but decided to get prepared. Cutting carrots… getting the roasties ready to cook later… Yorkshire pudding mix ready to go… Turkey in the oven…

Before you knew it there was a firm knock on the door and it was ten o’clock, and you’d expected to just see the postman before they went on their holiday leave. “Somethin’ smells good… watcha cookin’?” Johnny brushed straight past you to the kitchen, and the biggest surprise was seeing Simon Riley on your doorstep.

“He’s not wrong…” He said, rubbing is feet on the mats on both the inside and outside. Taking his boots off, you smiled at his politeness. You had never hung out with Simon, he kept himself to himself. Though you thought Johnny pushed him into coming over.

Entering your kitchen, stood Johnny MacTavish with a finger dipped in the eggnog… looking like a guilty child when you entered, “It wasn’t me, I swear…” You waved it off.

“A bit of gun grease never hurt anyone…” Knowing how messy the job proved most of the time, “How does it taste? The eggnog, not gun grease…” Ghost just stood leaned against the door frame connecting kitchen and living room. While Johnny tasted.

His eyes electric giving a hum, “Oh my god, Simon, you’ve got to try some…” Eyes lingered on you and then Johnny.

“I’m driving back, remember…”

“Come on, Lt… I’m sure Y/N doesn’t mind us staying until later, do you?” Head shaking with a dim smile on your lips.

Opening the overhead cupboard, “I even stocked a couple bottles of bourbon…” A brow raised by Simon beneath the hood and Johnny chuckled.

He shook your shoulders from behind you, “How can you say no to these faces?” Both giving your best mopey frowning.

Simon’s arms folded, “Use that technique in negotiations? Because I’m not turnin’ down a bottle of bourbon…” Johnny released your shoulders, returning back to the eggnog jug. “I wanna know why we’re actually here?” You hadn’t realised he’d slipped to stand directly beside you, and you felt your knees numb at the height of the man you’d spent hours of missions with…

It felt like you were under interrogation, “I thought you both deserved a homemade Christmas meal instead of a ready-made spag bol from the shops…” Only comprehending how close the man was to you, pushing off the island countertop and checking the turkey…

You had ushered the men to sit at counter on stools, Johnny had a jug of half gone eggnog in hand and Simon a whiskey glass. Simon more than Johnny marvelled how you worked around the kitchen, a spring in your step and a cheeky glint in your eye. A nudge to his right side, “Y’ staring, Lt…” He didn’t respond to the Sergeant, knowing fully well… maybe it wasn’t a good idea to go to your house and stay for an alcohol catering pre-Christmas meal.

But he couldn’t help it, “Need any help?”Talking to an optimistic person was what he craved and you seemed to be the only one in 141 that was a ray of sunshine in the storm ahead.

You queried, “You any good with mashing potatoes?” You swore you had never seen fluffier potatoes after Simon had finished up with the saucepan. “I’m impressed… and you alright there, Johnny?”

“Me nanna always slipped m’ some eggnog when I was a wee lad,” His cheeks ruddier than usual, and his smile wider. Let alone his speech, Simon and yourself sharing a humoured look at barely being able to understand your teammate.

Simon nudged him, taking the jug passing it to you, “Think you’ve had enough of that, Sergeant. Barely fuckin’ understand ya…” You giggled into your wine glass, taking a sip; meeting Ghost’s eye contact. He’d forgotten to take his mask up as the drink sputtered down his neck and onto his white shirt, “Fucks sake…” Discarding his jacket.

Johnny from the side, “Shit, bourbon stains like a bitch…” Simon didn’t care about the shirt, he just didn’t want to spend the entire day with an orange stain down himself.

“Throw me the shirt, I’ll get it out in a jiffy…” He cocked his eyebrow at you, “Not shy are you, Ghost?” In no time, his shirt was off and a flash of white caught in your hands.

His chin jerked up, “Work your magic then, love…” You couldn’t believe Simon Riley was taunting you, attempting to avert your gaze from landing on that toned chest and his broad shoulders. Relatively easy being around muscled men your entire career, though you were disappointed when his hoodie came over to block his skin. All while you used bicarbonate and white vinegar, scrubbing until the darker patch faded till it was barely there.

“Á voila!” Holding up the large T-shirt, “just need to chuck it in the wash.” Throwing it in with a bundle you had yet to put on. The alarm going off for the oven. Thinking a curse, tackling so much at once. Opting to run to the washing machine, throwing some washing powder and conditioner in. Returning back to the kitchen, alarm on snooze but met with the sight of Ghost carving the turkey, his collarbones defined and visible as was the top of his chest. The hem rising just enough to see the band of his boxers.

Johnny just smirked at you, merry as could be watching his squad members mentally undress each other between half-lidded gazes. “So you’re good with all kinds of knives?” You didn’t mean it to come out like a purr but it had, dishing up the roasties. Johnny was setting the three table places- he shot you a smile. A knowing one, that you had harboured a crush on your superior since you joined the SAS.

Simon Riley just had a swagger about him- a cockiness to his aptitude. He was also caring, whether he accepted that compliment or not. He had saved your life more times than you could count, you’d had his back countless in turn. Partners in stealth and then Johnny was brought into the dynamic, you’d hit it off immediately- you viewed him as an annoying, endearing brother all the while Ghost commented flirty jokes to you. Never enough to have intention but he still said it.

Never knowing much about the man, for all you knew he could have a wife and kids at home.

But the way he was acting, it could be a Christmas miracle that Lt. Simon Riley returned whatever flicker of a feeling you held for him. Fingers brushing against each other as you reached for the same cutlery set bundled beforehand by Johnny. Simon’s whiskey beside your wine while you had staved Johnny on lemonade. “I’m comin’ ‘ere for every Christmas… how did you ge’ the turkey like tha’,” It warmed your heart, you knew Johnny didn’t speak to his family all that much and that his Christmases were spent alone. “Wha’ abou’ you, Lt?”

Simon had his mask up below his nose, and had been munching away. Simply giving a shrug, before digging into more. If he hated it, he wouldn’t be going in for more on the plate.

“You’re okay with us stayin’ the night?” You had been the one to suggest it, and your house had three bedrooms. Though Johnny seemed content sleeping on the sofa- passing out after finishing off the jug of eggnog. You had draped a blanket over him. Simon was holding his whiskey well and hadn’t overdone it unlike the man asleep like a baby.

You were glad to be upstairs, avoiding Johnny’s snoring. “We’ll leave in the mornin’, so you can get shit ready for your family to come over…” That was the sad truth and he saw it on your face.

“I don’t have anybody round Christmas time…”

“No family?” It wasn’t like Simon to ask, the whiskey had loosened him up.

Your head shook, “My parents died, they’d been disowned by their families… so I’m usually on my own with a ready made spaghetti bolognese on Christmas,” You were too close to him- a wall overhead. Only noticing then that a stray mistletoe sat in that spot all year round. Your parents used to make an effort to kiss under it every day…

“We’re under mistletoe…” His gruff voice spoke too effortless while a blush covered your cheeks; maybe from the wine but maybe from how naked he was under that hoodie- forgetting that his shirt was still in the wash. “You’re gonna have to take it off?”

An arm around your waist as you wobbled. “What do you mean?” His other hand removed the mask he always made an effort to wear even while eating. But there he was, a normal man with a charming grin and puppy dog eyes. “Simon…?” Unsure of him…

“I wanna kiss you, Y/N…” And you sealed the deal, lips on his- stood on tiptoes with his palms keeping you upright. He was fire against you, your fingerprints were invisible when marking his neck. It was like a wave calmly drifting to shore, like Simon all together. Something that could be so violent yet tender, especially beneath your touch. Your lips off his, finding comfort in the eyes you’d known for years. “Did you want us to stay in the morning?”

Pondering, “Don’t you have family who want to spend Christmas with you?” A shake of the head with a lopsided grin on his face.

The man shrugged, “We never did anything for it, it’s just another day,” that’s when he grabbed your hand, “But I’d love to spend Christmas with you… and Johnny…”

The three of you ended up making another Christmas dinner on the 25th, Johnny got drunk on eggnog and ended up doing karaoke while you and Simon held hands under a blanket. A snap of you three on your Polaroid and added to your kitchen’s cork board and a picture from Christmas evening of you and Simon Riley in bed- no mask but the fact neither of you were wearing clothes wasn’t obvious.

He would come back after dropping Johnny off on Boxing Day… “Shit! I forgot to give you two presents…” He pulled you back onto the sofa as you went to rush away.

“You gave us something better than a present…” Before planting a kiss on your temple, “And your cooking was perfect,” cuddling into you watching a cheesy Christmas movie. Kind of like the one you had just lived out.

————

cod m.list | request guidelines | ghost m.list

[nataliasquote]

This is a snippet (edited) of Cowgirl Nat 🤠 pls tell me you love her as much as I do. That cocky cowgirl. Puts everyone in their place with a tilt of her hat and a shot from her gun 😏

-⧗-

Natasha pushed the wooden saloon doors open, the heels of her boots clicking against the tiled floor as she sauntered in. Her hat was dipped low over her face and she paused, surveying the room with a smirk before tipping it from her head, allowing her red waves to tumble around her shoulders. They were messy from hours of riding in the wind, but it suited her without fail.

Her green eyes darted across every familiar face, occasionally giving a slight smile if she felt that individual was worth her time. She held every single person in a trance, except the bartender who was all too familiar with her ways.

Natasha strolled up to the bar and leaned her forearms against the dark wood, crossing one leg over the other which accentuated the curve of her hips in her jeans. The brunette on a stool to her right choked on her beer and hid her spluttering mess behind her pitcher.

“My usual please, Barton,” Natasha husked with a wink to the bartender who pushed a bottle in her direction. As old friends, they went way back, and Clint was always delighted when she returned to pay him a visit. “Is this seat taken?”

The brunette, dressed in a plaid button down shirt, shook her head and scooted over, blinking in disbelief that she was being spoken to.

“Thanks darlin’.” If Y/n was stood up, she would have crumbled to the floor at those two words combined with Natasha’s southern drawl. She was new to the area, only stopping through to get her horse’s hooves checked over. But my goodness was she glad she picked this particular bar. She owed Clint Barton a massive favour.

Natasha slid onto the velvet-topped stool and sipped her drink, slender fingers tapping on the glass in her hand. She glanced at the woman to her right, taking her in with a simple flick up and down.

“I’ve not seen you before. You not from around here?” Natasha knew everyone who was anyone in this small town. It wasn’t hard to keep track, really, and visitors became fast spreading news.

“I’m only stopping by. Left my horse down at the stable at the end of town- gotta sort her hooves out.” Natasha nodded, knowing Bishop Stables was widely known for their services. “I’m guessing it’s obvious I’m a stranger?”

Natasha laughed around the rim of her bottle, green eyes sparkling in the dim light. “I know my people,” she replied, gesturing to the full tables behind them. “And I’d remember a face like yours, darling.” Y/n’s suddenly darted from Natasha’s face to the fringe on the waistcoat she wore. Never had she been such a mess in front of a stranger before, but this mysterious redhead was far more than just a regular stranger. She was captivating, and judging by the flirty glances she sent to several women scattered across the bar, she knew it.

“And does a gorgeous woman like you have a pretty name to match?” Natasha turned on her stool completely, resting a bare forearm on the bar in order to give Y/n her full attention.

“I’m Y/n. And you are..?”

“Natasha Romanoff, at your service.” The redhead quickly put her hat on and tipped it forwards, eliciting a laugh from the woman opposite. Clint eyed their interaction as he dried some glasses, grinning to himself at how effective Natasha’s charm truly was. She turned it on with the tip of her hat and a flash of her smile, making men and women alike stop dread in their tracks.

“Hey, Romanoff, give us a dance, will ya?” A leering voice echoed above the general hum of conversation and Y/n watched as Natasha rolled her eyes and adjusted her gun that sat in a holster on her hip.

“Give it up, Stark, you’re barking at a knot.” The man in question jeered at her and banged his beer bottle on the barrel table, several men around him doing the same.

But Natasha just stood up, squared her shoulders and fired her handgun in their direction, the bullet slamming into the wall mere inches above Stark’s head. She blew the smoke off her gun with a cocky smirk and shoved it back in the holster. The entire saloon fell silent, aside from Clint’s mutterings about yet another hole to fix thanks to his fiery friend.

Natasha waited a second longer, almost daring Stark and his guys to test her again. But they didn’t, now only watching her warily as she turned back to her new woman and held out her hand with a small flourish. Her other hand grabbed her hat from the bar and set it atop of her flaming hair.

“How about I show you around? And get you away from these coffee boilers before they start on you too.” Natasha nodded over to Stark’s table and Y/n shuddered, practically smelling their beer breaths from where she was sat.

“You’d do that? I haven’t had much of a chance to look around.” Y/n downed the rest of her drink and slid the pitcher back to Clint with a grateful smile.

Natasha helped Y/n down from her stool and rested her hand on her large belt buckle. “Well, lucky for you darlin’, you’ve got the best tour guide this town has to offer.” Y/n blushed and accepted Natasha’s arm, walking beside her as they stepped out into the blazing midday sun, leaving the darkness of the saloon behind them.

“Where do you want to start?” Y/n looked up and down the sandy street, eyeing the wooden and old stone buildings that faced her.

“You’re the guide, you tell me.” Was that just another reason to hear Natasha speak? Y/n would never admit the answer to that.

Natasha rubbed her hands together. “Perfect. My favourite place… the armoury. If you don’t walk out of there wanting a new pistol, then I really haven’t done my job right.” Natasha set off down the centre of the street, her boots crunching the gravel underfoot. Y/n just blindly followed, her hand resting casually on her gun in case anyone tried to challenge her. Small towns weren’t usually all that accommodating of foreigners, but she’d clearly done something right by befriending Natasha.

Everyone gave them a wide berth, gossiping and whispering to themselves as they passed. But Natasha was extremely well respected, so if she accepted a visitor, everyone else would too. The social hierarchy certainly placed her close to the top. And for Y/n? Well… she was just getting started.

[cloveroctobers]

FEBRUARY FLUFF — MANNY X READER X HAPPY LOWMAN.

A/N: Thank you to everyone that took the time out to vote for this thing! I’ve always wanted to write for happy but felt like I wouldn’t be able to do him any justice…this is just me brushing on him being in a relationship so I hope he wasn’t too OOC! Anyways hope you guys enjoy this!

WARNINGS: language, some angst—duh!, slight graphic violence right at the beginning, infidelity, age-gap, and me dipping into some smut?—Don’t get too excited 😆

*FIRST GIF BELONGS TO: @riosnecktattoo + the other doesn’t belong to me either!

PROMPT IS FROM HERE & I’m using: 48. "home doesn't feel like home anymore. you feel like home now."

𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢

with the new year just arriving you’ve been standing on business and keeping busy. You always believed in starting off big and ending with a bang but you didn’t actually want to start off February covered in: blood splatter on your face and brain matter falling onto your tall Chanel boots.

There goes that Christmas gift…

it was late and you were just finishing up at the new construction zone, touring the completed model home and agreeing to take it on as a property to sale. You were a real estate agent, one of the very best—if you did say so yourself—in the growing area of Charming and stood on that. Sure it’s name and it’s pretty views was part of what made Charming, charming but every city has its thorns.

Which led to a knife being pressed underneath your chin by a meth head who thought it would be fun to squat here. You weren’t sure how long he’s been hiding out in the home but it didn’t take him very long to attack after business was completed. Listen, you hardly went anywhere without your guard up but your bag was left in the kitchen, phone lost somewhere on the floor after the ambush, and your heart was going haywire while you held your breath, calculating how to handle this.

Before you could tune back into the addicts demands, you ripped your body away, cut on your chin as the knife slipped downwards just before the man fell forward. Your ears only heard ringing, taking up the once quiet of the night in the hills, and you slowly turned your attention to the person who quickly got you out of this messy situation.

Lowering their gun with gloved hands, there stood Manuel, “Manny,” Moreno. Once his long lash framed eyes fully sat on you, he’s shoving it back into his waistband and calls over his shoulder at the two men beside him, who spring into action to clean up their crime scene. He’s moving towards you now but you’re using the sleeve of the mesh new shirt you liked! to wipe away the blood from your face.

“Nu—

He starts to rest his hands on your upper arms but you shove him off, “I’m fine.”

There’s concern on his handsome features as he rasps, “Are you though?”

“It’s not my first time being around a dead body and I’m sure it won’t be my last.” You snap, “just wish it wasn’t fucking with my business but here we are.”

Manny dips his head at you, briefly glancing at his men who are shoving the body into a black bag, “yeah…sorry about that.”

You scoff at this and walk off to the half bath.

Manny hesitates to follow you but says to his men, “take him to the van and make sure y’all get everything spotless in here before we roll out.”

He stalks off in search of you, finding the half bathroom that has the door left open just a crack. Manny raps his knuckle against the door and he can hear you sigh over the water before you shut it off. He takes that as you being decent and pushes the door back with the tip of his shoe. You’ve rinsed and scrubbed your face but he knows when you get home, you’ll just go over that pretty skin even more.

“What’re you even doing here?” You ask, voice steady but there’s a slight shake in your shoulders before you stretch them back and straighten up your posture.

Manny lifts his own as if it’s obvious, “same as you, business.”

“No shit, smart ass! I’m talking about in this area…didn’t you take your spaceship back to AZ where you belong?” You bite but Manny finds that second half amusing.

Manny leans against the doorway, watching your reflection in the mirror, “nah…things changed and put me into a new perspective…so we decided a move to Stockton permanently was the best option.”

That was about fifteen minutes away from Charming.

You felt your eye twitch at this new information as it was your turn to fire off, “How long have you been here?”

Manny seemed to instantly grasp what you were getting at but knew there was no sense in lying as he exhaled through his pierced nose before holding your stare, “Only a couple of weeks.”

Pressing a tongue into your cheek you huff, “a phone call would have been nice.”

Manny lightly sucked his teeth, “Would you have picked up?”

“Probably not but a voicemail or even a damn text would do…unless you also were not expecting to see me here?” You questioned, although part of you had a feeling what that answer would be.

Manny is quiet for a moment and you scoff again. Whipping around with your backside pressing into the sink, arms spread out along the counter you burn your eyes into the man you shared history with. Once upon a time you used to look at him with such light in your eyes but the universe can show you just how wicked people can be. You’ve been on your healing journey and perhaps it can’t all be resolved by your expiration date but it was worth trying…yet the most high knows just how troubling it was for you.

it was difficult when the man you used to be in love with was back to his old tricks like: showing up when you were trying your best to forget his existence. You truly didn’t think you could even if you prayed hard enough while considering so many factors.

“The sons are a conflict and I’m just glad i got here in time.” Was all he said as confirmation.

You’re rolling your eyes, “oh my knight and shining armor! You think I wouldn’t be able to handle myself?”

Manny shakes his head, “Never that, I know exactly what you’re capable of but you hesistated and a thank you would be cool in my book.”

“And you not being a piece of shit would be even better,” you point into his forehead, leaving Manny to lean away from your jabbing nail until you’re shoving your way by, wanting nothing more than to get home and away from him.

Your stomach was churning just being in the same space as him again and you were trying to keep your anger calm but it was increasingly difficult the longer you spoke with Manny.

Moving around the living room, you’re down on your knees searching for the fallen phone and find it just underneath the couch. Bringing it back to your attention, you’re reminded of what last texts you were sending to your agency, (now ready to tell them another story but ultimately knew you probably couldn’t) before being shoved over the couch and then yanked back into the hands of the deceased.

“Look…you can say whatever you want about me but I don’t appreciate your abuelo being around my kid.” Manny tells you and you feel your blood pulsating as you whip your head around.

“What?!” You hiss, head pushed forward in hopes to help you make sense of where this conversation was going.

Manny chews on his bottom lip, “I said—

“I heard what you said,” you got to your feet, “but what makes you think I wanna hear it?”

“You don’t have to want to but I’m gonna tell you anyway.” Manny clasps his hands in front of him, already on defense.

Throwing your head back in laughter you say, “let me tell you something, Manuel. You don’t get to step in whenever it’s convenient for you, which is barely, thinking shit is going to be sweet just because you’re in your feelings about an actual man stepping in taking your place. That same place you didn’t even want, mind you.”

Manny quirked up a brow, “that bag of bones ain’t doin’ shit but getting his gravesite ready. You think that’s cool having that old head raise my kid?”

“What kid?” You quiz, “oh you mean the most adorable three year old girl that you first tried to deny because of something we both did? That same kid you thought was a mistake? The one you tried to hide from your wife? yet she’s the one who had the balls to reach out and want Aya to have a relationship with her big sister, Marbella?”

Manny tightens his jaw as the men are trying their best not to send him any looks as they’re using solution to clean up the hardwood floors. He’s rubbing at his jaw in irritation that his private business was being aired out like this but he’s the one who knew this conversation was going to be had at some point.

Manny’s wife, Lígia was the one to encourage this move. To push Manny to be the man he says he is and shown that he is. She always believed in him when he knew he didn’t deserve it. His wife had unmatched strength with all the deceit he brought into their home and he was just thankful she didn’t take Bella or her love away from him. He knew how shitty it sounded considering that he actually had a friendship with you some time ago—way before he even took those vows. The old him wasn’t as trustworthy and he wanted to try to be now, at least he was according to his brothers but he had his share of dirt. Nobody’s ever perfect inside or outside the club. He’s been married for eight years, had a six year old named Marbella with Lígia and a three year old named Aya out of infidelity with you.

It was always a tough pill for Manny to swallow even until this day. He felt like maybe he took advantage of your heart, promising at the beginning that it would all just be for fun with two friends messing around but you fell fast and even harder when he found Lígia. That was supposed to be you but it never happened. it was something you commonly did, the whole handing your heart over on a silver platter in hopes that your partner would do just the same. Manny ignorantly thought it had to do with the age difference. Now here the both of you stood with you at your early thirties and him approaching forty but this wasn’t the first time he’s ever mentioned this to you.

Manny knew how deeply you cared about him but he still went forth with his marriage and he still wanted you there. As down bad for Manny as you once were, you didn’t want to burst into flames watching Manny seal his love with someone that wasn’t you. Sure you weren’t proud to talk about how foolish you were but it wasn’t a secret like Manny tried to make it out to be. He really wasn’t as smart as he thought, honestly. It wasn’t all about pointing fingers, you had to find your worth, knowing that if Manny really cared about you he wouldn’t have strung you along with false promises. Eventually you knew when to step away for good but of course a pregnancy dragged you right on back until manny showed just how much he didn’t care enough to be there as much as he could for Aya.

Yes it was hard being in two different states now and you for damn sure wouldn’t be uprooting back to Arizona. To make it easier for Manny. He was going to have to put in the effort but instead he’s been here for weeks and his focus is on who Aya is being nurtured by?

He nudges his head, “let’s talk in the kitchen.”

You don’t argue because your bag is in there and you’re itching to get out. Briefly glancing through your bag to make sure your contents were still in there, you lift your head and exhale.

“I know it’s been rough,” Manny rasps as he leans over the large counter, “and I’ve got a lot of things in this world to be apologetic for but I’m here now and I would appreciate it if you would allow me to be there for Aya.”

You hold his stare, “I’d never deprive you of having a relationship with her because of how you treated me. It’s the way you went about everything else and now want to switch up because your wife gave you the okay? is what doesn’t sit right with me.”

Manny sighs aware that this is partly true, yes Lígia gave him the push but he had to learn how to face his truth on his own, “I know I fucked up and I’m sorry—i—just didnt want to be a failure of a husband and father to them but in return I treated y’all like you two didn’t matter. Which is the farthest thing from true. I’ll always be sorry for that time lost…which is why I’m here now.”

‘For how long?’ You thought to yourself.

It wasn’t time to be selfish because Aya deserved to get to know Manny regardless of how young she is at this time. You would have done anything to have more time with your dad if you could and honestly you wanted Aya to determine her own stance with Manny in due time.

For however long that’ll be.

Taking a deep inhale you shrug, “okay…when do you want to see her?”

“As soon as possible,” Manny perks up, “I actually can head your way now—

You grab your jacket, hooking it over your arm before grabbing your bag, “Aya’s not home. She’s spending the night with my mom and Rudy.”

Manny nods as he’s muttering, “right…I guess you and Mr. ‘I’ve fallen and can’t get up,’ probably have big plans tonight.”

Now why did he have to go and say that? Did he see you worrying about his wife or attacking her?

“Excuse me?”

Manny blinks not in the slightest bit worried about your tone, “you know tomorrow’s Valentine’s Day right? You used to love it.”

That holiday came around much faster than you remembered and you showed no emotion at Manny recalling one of your favorite holidays.

“I didn’t forget.” Was all that you said but it was clear Manny didn’t believe that, laughing to himself.

Manny sniffs as he talks once more, “right so…I’ll have the day off tomorrow, so maybe I’ll slide through and grab Aya from your moms and step dad’s and we can have some bonding time—just us three I swear.”

See how he just assumed that you would bring Lígia up? Of course you didn’t think you would one hundred percent be comfortable with that although she did reach out to you but you can never underestimate anyone. The both of you shared words before over the phone prior to the talk about Aya (mostly about you reaching out too much to a married man, although you tried to brush it off with just being besties but Lígia put the boundaries up for Manny since he wouldn’t) but it was never on sight. Lígia made sure of that which in your mind, you labeled that as her being scary of having a convo face to face but she just wanted you out of Manny’s life as it would create more problems for them.

She took it up more with Manny you heard…but she still should have been worried about you fucking her man even after they said, ‘I do.’

“Good luck with that,” you snort already aware how your mother felt about him, “she wont let Aya out of her sight.”

Manny shrugs, “I’ll figure it out.”

You saw something different in his eyes this year. There was a swirl of dedication in them the longer you stared and you didn’t want to get your hopes up. However you would give your mother a heads up since Manny probably already knew where she resided with your step-father. Manny was good at playing at not caring ever since he got into the club and chose to get married but you knew he couldn’t be that heartless. Sure he sent birthday cards here and there once he came to terms with Aya being his and even responded when you thought about child support.

The thing was he just didn’t show up whenever he was near by doing club business. It was the bare minimum and he chose not to. Manny claimed that moving here had partly to do with doing right by Aya and that’s all you could ask for. It still left a nasty taste in your mouth that Lígia got him to step up but that was your own personal problem not Aya’s.

“Alright then,” you start to make your exit until he says…

“Happy Valentine’s Day, Nubia.” His voice is gentle and you expect the tenderness in his tone to make you feel something but surprisingly it doesn’t as he continues, “take care of that cut and don’t forget to pick up something nice for abuelo on your way home.”

You halted but kept your gaze straight, “don’t worry, he’ll give me more than you ever could.”

Which left Manny nodding at your words, rubbing the tension from his jaw as he watched you walk away from him but certainly not for good in his eyes.

Making a stop was not on your to do list tonight but you stopped at your best friend’s lab to shower, take care of the scratch on your chin that would heal in a few days, get tested thanks to being exposed to blood—sadly while being asked a bunch of questions from the worry wart of a best friend that you had but you simply gave her a synopsis before making your way back home after a few texts to your mom and your man.

The drive was a bit longer since you had to go in the opposite direction to get a decent shower but it was what you needed. Eventually you made it through the suburbs and pulled your car right into the open garage beside the familiar bike. Reaching for the sun visor and pressing on the remote, you’re closing the garage door behind you and take a few more seconds to yourself before climbing out.

Each step you took towards the door you hoped the tension erased. The first door was left unlocked while you carried up the stairs, tiredly before unlocking the top door yourself. You don’t even peek to the right where your bedroom is, dumping your items right into the living chair before being greeted by Ope knocking into your legs for attention.

“Hey,” you greet the pit as you scratch behind his ears with a small smile, “you have a good day today? I’m sure you did since you don’t have any bills to pay.”

He barks at you, wagging his tail before running to head up the stairs. Letting out a yawn you raise your arms above your head, cracking the space in between your shoulder blades and blow out a breath as you drag your eyes from the window and to your left.

There Happy stands in what most would find a creepy demeanor. He’s watching you, almost analyzing but you greet him first before he can suspect anything, “hey.”

“Hey,” he blinks almost as if he has to remind himself, “what’s with the change of clothes?”

You frown, peering down although you’re aware what you left the house in but was unsure how Happy knew what you were wearing since his day started earlier than yours today.

“You left the damn shoe box out in the middle of the floor,” he responses in his usual gruff voice, “almost broke my fucken neck.”

Stepping to the bald man with the dark eyes, you wrap your arms around his waist burying your head into his chest to listen to the beat beneath it. “Sorry about that hun, I was rushing this morning.”

“Yeah, I figured.” Happy rests one hand on the middle of your back, squeezing you firmly to his frame.

The both of you hold onto each other for just a little awhile. This was all that you needed, to be in the arms of the man you could trust to be upfront with you and loving despite what the streets labeled him as. It’s not that it didn’t matter but at least you felt sure about this relationship—which didn’t sit right to some but you were grown enough to know what you wanted.

“I need to show you something.” Happy says now rubbing your back in circles, almost as if sensing you had a long day.

You squeeze him with your eyes shut, “is it a sweet chili wing dinner?”

“Better,” happy comments with a smirk as you peer up at him.

Turning your eyes into slits you don’t say much as Happy removes his hand from your back to slip his arm across your shoulders. Leading the way to your bedroom, you’re hit with the satisfying scent of brown sugar and fig, a thick patchwork towel spread out along the bed, and propped up pillows right along the center of the headboard.

“What’s this?”

“Strip,” happy demands from beside you while you frown.

“For…”

Happy rolls his eyes, “stop askin’ questions woman and get naked.”

Giving him a look you turn towards him, fist pressed into your hip while Happy can’t help but to let a smile slip past his lips, faint dimples appearing right with it.

“…am I getting naked by myself or…?”

“if you’re lucky,” happy grips the side of your neck and squeezes, “but first I’m taking care of you with a full body massage.”

A smile breaks out onto your lips now, “aw, happy—

“Don’t get all fucken mushy on me,” happy jeers as you go to scratch the white scruff on his face, “now strip and get your ass over there.”

“You could say please,” you tease kicking off your trainers first followed by Happy doing the honors of yanking up your crewneck.

Laughing to yourself at Happy’s impatience, you guess he’s been waiting a good amount of time for you get home so he could do this. He nods to the bed where you plop down and he lets own a low whistle along with a motion of his finger, “on your belly baby, you know the drill.”

“Oh?” You wink, while Happy grins at you.

Twisting your body, you crawl closer to the pillows, prepared to rest on your stomach but not without catching sight of some oil and flower petals resting in a wooden bowl. Call yourself impressed as you reach into the nightstand to grab your bonnet to slip over your hair.

“I need to be prepared too, hap.” You announce while the said man snickers to himself.

Resting your cheek against the soft pillows you close your eyes, feeling the bed dip and your man hovering over you. His lips are by your ear as he says, “I’ll always take care of you.”

And you believe him.

Happy’s touch is always rough but careful when it comes to you. You keep your eyes closed, body sinking into the comfort of the blanket and the roominess of your shared bed. His fingertips slip between your bra and skin, lifting the garment upwards before messing with the clasp. Being free from that trap makes you feel better already but there’s goosebumps as Happy trails a fingertip down your spine, against the dark art in Arabic that decorates your skin just right.

His hands are on the waistband of your leggings now and he doesn’t say much, he never does, making sure his movements are precise and swift; slipping a hand underneath you, lifting your hips with one arm while he uses the other to remove your leggings for you. The house is always toasty, just warm enough for the both of you during this comfortable but breezy winter but the goosebumps always arise once your skin is bare and underneath the gaze of the man you had no problem calling yours.

You’re left in your underwear and bonnet just the way Happy likes it—occasionally in your Mumu’s (don’t knock it until you try it ladies!) too but for tonight’s purposes? This would be his first choice to keep locked in his memory. He’s reaching over you again, rough fingertips grasping the bowl to tip it right over your skin. You don’t predict it to be warm and it almost makes you flinch but it’s soon smoothened out once happy’s touch is applied.

He starts at your shoulders first, where there seems to be the most tension. Just the right amount of pressure had you squirming but he knows you can take it, knowing just when to ease off, trailing his touch down your arms and interlocking his fingers with yours that are buried beneath the pillows. Then he’s back at it, tackling the knots and backing away towards your spine and going right back to make sure he’s doing his job.

Happy’s always loved your legs, especially when they’re slamming back against his, but this time he has to make sure they’re ready for what’s to come. You’re always on your feet showcasing homes or hunched over a desk so he knows your shoulders and legs would be the most problematic but it’s not like he’s worried.

“Hold on for me, lady.” He warns you just as he jams his thumbs over your upper thighs, making you groan and lift your foot up in protest.

He smacks it back down against the bed, noting that he would get to that later. However he knows your body pretty well so he attempts to keep your mind off the soreness that releases, “…want to tell me about your day?”

Happy’s not the biggest talker but based on research and with his own experience with his mother, he knows directing the conversation elsewhere helps people get through it. Which is a huge contrast when it comes to his job of getting some answers if you get what I’m saying…

“Only if you tell me about yours,” you huff twisting your body to the right in pain but Happy has no problem sitting right on your ass.

Happy snorts, “know i can’t tell you all those details, lady.”

You laugh a bit, “not sure id want to hear the graphics anyways,” relaxing a bit as he switches to his right and your left, which seems to be less painful, “Manny’s back and wants to attempt a relationship with Aya but I don’t want to be the bitch that keeps her away when he’s the one who pushed us away at the start. Yet he has all these standards and preachings with the damn club but couldn’t acknowledge his kid because he screwed around on his wife with me multiple times. I’m scared and don’t want Aya to grow up getting her heart stomped on by a wolf in sheep’s clothing.”

Happy is listening but he doesn’t respond right away. He couldn’t care less about manny the shitty Mayan to be honest and Happy honestly never saw himself being a father—if that’s what you and Aya considered him as! he was more of a pet dad, and even fell in love with your pet snake, Bingo first before having the chance to meet the curious light hearted toddler with the wide doll-like eyes and pretty long eyelashes who had wind chimes for a laughter box. Granted Happy’s only been around for almost a year but as much as he cared about you, caring about Aya was just a bonus.

This manny punk missed out and you were better than happy. If happy had a woman that didn’t step up for their kid, she’d probably be six feet under—in pieces. However he was the killer out of the couple whereas you said your peace and expected that to be done while still hurting over situations. If situations kept being pressed? That’s when things had the potential to go left on your terms.

“We’ll make sure it won’t,” happy says running his hands down to your ankles now and you’re almost sinking into the bed at his words.

“You genuinely mean that, hap?” Your voice wavering and that makes happy do a sharp turn to glance at you.

He’s moving now, gripping your shoulder and flipping you over to meet your gaze which slowly opens, body aware that you need to have eye contact as he speaks with you. Happy’s hovering over you, palms down by the side of your head as his dark eyes pierce into yours, “have I ever shown you any different? I’m nowhere near that motherfucker and I don’t plan on leaving you…either of you…at least not on purpose.”

There’s that honesty you couldn’t hate.

Your mother and step-father didn’t know exactly what Happy was into but they knew it was anything but good. Of course they opposed the entire thing and also didn’t want him around Aya, which you took precaution of since you were unaware if this would last but it has so far. There was only one way this relationship would end and that’s something the both of you vowed. Something the both of you swore to take seriously. There was also an age-gap just like you and manny but the difference was: love was actually in the room.

“What if you just up and decide you wanna go back to Tacoma, cutting all ties with us? People change their minds all the time you know?” You hated being vulnerable like this but having your heart on your sleeve shouldn’t be a crime.

Happy shrugged, “then I’ll take you guys with me. home doesn't feel like home anymore. you feel like home now."

Your eyes flick back up and a watery smile is present as Happy brushes his lips against yours. Before he reaches up to yank the bonnet over your eyes, “even this raggedy bonnet feels like home.”

He’s grinning while you laugh a bit then lift it up and peek up at him, “not too much now—but I love you anyways.”

Happy dips his head in agreement.

Which makes you reach up to caress his head as if it were your own personal crystal ball and Happy knows just what you’re thinking, wiggling his head from your grasp. “Since you want to be grabby…why don’t you let me massage something else?”

He pats just below with a delivish smirk, “ain’t love day tomorrow?”

“Is it now?” You curl your hand behind your head, “Was this your whole plan?”

Happy shrugs, “I’d get you under me one way or another regardless.”

“Look at you being so damn sure of yourself!”

“Yeah I am. No toddler in the house, a nice massage, me tending to our pussy, and a second meal afterwards? Sounds good to me.” Happy ticks off with his fingers.

You snort, “well when you put it that way? Oh how romantic!”

“I did good though?” Happy questions, a flick of doubt appearing over his face before it’s gone.

You reassure running your thumb over his cheek, “Yeah you did, you’re great with your hands.”

“And I still want to use ‘em.”

“Only if you get my Valentine’s Day gift for you?”

Happy frowns, “That bouncy heart headband?”

“How did you?” You started but shake your head knowing not to question it, “that wasn’t for you that was for Aya.”

“Then where is mine?”

“See, that’s what happens when you go snooping.” You laugh.

Happy slaps your thigh, “well?”

“It’s nothing big but it’s under Aya’s bed because I knew you wouldn’t look there.”

Happy sharply exhaled through his nose and backs away with you. “Don’t move,” he warns stomping out of the room and up the few steps to Aya’s room.

Snuggling back into the bed, you await for Happy’s return with the glitter red box. It’s already open as he tosses tissue paper onto the floor, and holds up one rubber item.

“Pound town ticket,” happy is smirking at you and tosses it right on your body watching as it lands on your torso, “don’t mind if I do and I get two? We’ll use the second one tomorrow.”

You laugh as you pick up the item and give it a kiss before placing it on the night stand. Sitting up on your elbows and you smile as Happy keeps digging through the box to find the personalized boxers.

“Oh shit, look at these!” Happy holds them up, showing the black underwear with hearts printed all over front and back with the middle having your face and a drawn body hugging around where his junk would be.

Asking the man, “You like the cheesy little gift?”

“Hell yeah, it’s stupid but I’m gonna wear these—

“Now?” You pry.

Happy sucks his teeth, “no not now! I’m trying to get out these jeans and into my home.”

Laying back, you lift your feet and spread your legs, peering at Happy, “come on in then.”

The darkening of Happy’s eyes means you don’t have to tell him twice as he chucks the box to the side, licking his lips as his eyes remain locked on you. You enjoy the view as well as Happy hooks his hands through the belt hoops of his jeans, his v-cut being prominent that you have to bite down on your bottom lip, watching him get out of them just as fast as he’s charging over to the bed.

Squealing you welcome him into your arms after he yanks on your ankles, toppling right on top of your body. You always love when he puts if not all but most of his weight on you, burying you into the sheets while he nips at your shoulder and places an open mouthed kiss against your neck. He loves the way you smell naturally or even fresh from a shower. Always like the fresh start of spring, like a harsh rain, cucumbers, and floral—like your favorite flowers that you’re allergic to, lilies.

You always smell soft despite the resting bitch face you have. And he always cares for you just right. That same feeling is evident when he spends time on your breasts, caressing the roundness of your face while sucking and biting. He even runs his tongue over the fresh scratch on your chin and that almost makes you pry your eyes open but your focus is always directed elsewhere once Happy has his hands on you. You’re at his mercy before he’s even inside you but Happy times everything right.

Knows when to tease and get you ready for him. Majority of the time its difficult to have these times together with a young child in the house, Ope trying to cock block, or both of your jobs getting in the way but when you do, it’s best to savor these moments.

With your legs in the air like the letter V to match his hips, body shuddering with Happy holding you right against him at the edge of the bed, he isn’t quick to move like normally. He wants you to feel every inch and he wants to feel just how you were made for him.

Only him.

𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢𓏲𝄢

February fluff anthology prompts continues here.

[little-horror-smut]

Breaking Boundries

Chibs Telford x Reader

CW; 18+ only. SMUT, alot of detailed sxy time.

This is my first time posting, hope its to you alls liking. Bit of a long one, typed it on my phone so bare with me. If there are any mistakes feel free to let me know!

Off limits. Thats what you have been all your life. As Clay Morrows daughter, there wasn't a chance in hell any of the guys could touch you. Yet the thought of them lingered in your head. Especially of one man. His grey locks that mingled with his dark brown hair. His thick scottish accent that you could spend days listening to. His always protective nature.

You worked as a mechanic for the garage. Having grown up there, you were always watching the men work. You didn't want to do all the girly stuff they presented you with. Always being drawn back to motorcycles. Finally they gave up and let you learn. They knew you were gonna do it anyhow. Because of the work you did, you've always worn baggy clothes. It was the most comfortable to work in. You joked around like the guys and they treated you as one in return.

They would do anything in a heartbeat for you.

You we're working on a car for a customer. Your hair was tied up in a messy bun and your hands were covered in grease. You couldn't figure out what was causing the trouble. Scratching your head, leaving a greasy mark on your hair and face, you hadn't noticed it happening.

"What have you been rollin' round in?" A thick Scottish accent filled the room. Confused you looked up, chibs standing close by. "Have you looked at yourself in the mirror, love?" He said, pointing at his face. As you walked over to one of the mirrors hanging there, you chuckled. "Been too stuck with this car. I can't figure out for the life of me whats wrong" you sighed in frustration as you walked back over to the car. Leaning over the open hood. Chibs came standing behind you, looking over your shoulder. He placed his hand forward to point something out. His warm body connecting to yours. You felt something flutter inside your stomach. Something you had never felt before. "Let me take a closer look" Chibs said as he moved away from you and leaned in on the car. His hand ever so slightly brushing your butt while he moved. A blush rose to your cheeks. You try to compose yourself, not knowing this side of you. Chibs was full on invested in this car now, helping you figure out what was going on.

"You comin' to Bobby's release party?" He asked while he was wiping his hands on a rag. "You kidding? Wouldn't wanna miss it!" You replied in a cheerfull manner. "Aight. Just let your daddy know" Chibs winked. You rolled your eyes at his comment. "I can take care of myself you know? Besides, i have you guys to look out for me" winking back at chibs. A giggle leaving his mouth.

"See you tonight then, love" He kissed the top of your head and left.

You sighed at the feeling this man had stirred in you. "You gotta clear your head girl.." you mumbled under your breath as you finished up the car.

You stood before your closet. The dress you had bought a while ago was still hanging there with tags and all. Maybe it was time to wear it. The little black dress you loved to stare at but dreaded to wear. Maybe, just maybe, tonight was the night you were gonna show the guys what you had been hiding. You grabbed the dress and hopped into the bathroom. You put on some fishnet stockings, the little black dress that hugged every inch of your curves and some beautiful lace up high heeled boots. You finished your look by putting on eyeliner with a cat wing and a bold red lipstick. As you walked back into your bedroom, you took a look at yourself in the dressing mirror. You couldn't believe it was you. So different, yet you loved how it made you feel.

"You ready to go, sweetheart?" Gemma called from the kitchen. You took a deep breath and went to face gemma. "Well look at that" Gemma smiled. "Are you sure thats Y/N? Because i ain't never seen her before"

A warm feeling enlightened you at Gemma's compliment. "Thanks Gem" you said as you went to grab your red leather jacket. "Now we need to make sure your father doesn't see you before we make the party" Gemma chuckled. "Come on"

As you arrived at the party, heads were turning with every step you took. You couldn't help but feel a little awkward with all the attention you got. This was not something you were used to. But you tried to keep yourself composed, you head held high and trying to extrude confidence with every step.

"Almost didn't recognize you" Chibs said, his voice husky. "You look absolutely stunnin' " he added, looking you up and down. "Thanks, Chibs" you said nervously and with a blush.

He poured you a whiskey "here you go love" raising his glass. You toasted on a fun night. As you took a sip, you felt the warmth of the liqour burn your throat. A familiar feeling, soothing your nerves.

As the evening wound on, you found yourself on the dancefloor. The booze was working, your nervous edge was gone. You felt the rythem go through your body. Your heart in sync with the beat. Hips swaying side to side. Suddenly you felt two hands on your hips and a warmth filling up behind you. You looked over your shoulder to see who it was, your eyes widenend at the sight of chibs. "You've been on my mind all night" he whispered in a coarse voice, his breath hot against your skin. Sending shivers down your spine. "You're playin' a devils game. Swingin' yer hips like that" as he pulled your hips against his groin. You gasped by feeling of it. You quickly turned around. "What are you doing, chibs?" Your voice slightly trembling. "If Clay sees you, your a dead man" A smirk appeared on chibs his face. "Lets go somewhere more private then.." as he quickly grabbed your arm and led you away from the crowd. You heart paced faster every step you took. You had no idea what had gotten into Chibs but you also didn't mind it.

He had led you to the garage, where the car was standing you worked on earlier today. Making sure everything was closed, he pulled you in. Your faces only inches apart. Your hot breaths mingling. He cupped your face roughly. "Your drivin' me crazy, Y/N" as he pulled your face even closer. Your lips almost touching. You wanted to say something, nothing that made sense came to mind. "I..-" Before you could utter another word, Chibs crashed his lips onto yours. Electricity went through your body, your eyes widenend at the initial encouter but quickly closed. You kissed back, putting your hands up in his hair. His tongue sought entrance. As you let him enter, the taste was of whiskey and cigarettes. A hint of sweet lingering in there. With every move your tongues made, the more he awakened in you. Before you knew it, he was tugging at your dress.

His hands desperate to take it off. He grunted a with frustration, which made you smile in return. He turned you around and pushed you down. Bend over the hood of the car. He lifted up your dress. "Fuck.. thats a pretty sight" he grinned with heavy breath, yet soflty spoken. He ripped your fishnets, leaving a perfect hole. He got on his knees and started kissing up your legs. A moan escaped your lips. His grip on your ass tightend by hearing your pleasure. As he made his way up, he spread your ass so he could reach you better. He pulled your panties to the side. His tongue caressed your lips, tasting your sweetness. More soft moans started escaping your mouth. His movement became rougher, as he licked, kissed and sucked. Panting heavy "you taste so good" he groaned under his breath. He stood up and unbuckled his pants. Revealing his throbbing cock. One hand on your ass and one stroking his cock, he looked at the beautiful sight infront of him. The woman, a forbidden desire, on the hood of a car in a greasy garage. Every mechanics dream. He stepped in closer, rubbing his tip against your wetness. You bit your lip in pleasure and anticipation. He entered, his big size filling you all up. Your tightness around his cock made him moan. You gasped as you felt him go deeper. He slowly started moving, squeezing your ass in pleasure. He tilted his back and breathed heavy with pleasure. He started picking up the pace. Every move you felt him inside you, your wetness grew. Moans left your lips, every thrust bringing you more pleasure. He leaned forward and grabbed your hair. "Who's a good girl' " he smirked, his thick scottish accent filling the air. His voice making you tremble. He grunted and moaned with every move he made inside you.

He grabbed your hips and moved faster and faster. He was almost at his climax. You used your hand to please yourself. Panting you said "im.. almos- fuck.. almost there" A smile grew on his face as your words turned him on even more. "Cum for me love" he said, feeling himself coming closer. As you let it happen, your warmth pulsated around his cock. Not even a few seconds later he filled you with his warm liquid. Thrusting one last time, a loud groan came out. All together in sync with your moans and pulsating body. 

Chibs panted heavy as he leaned one hand on the hood of the car. "This was the best mistake I've made so far" he said with a heavy yet satisfied voice and a light chuckle. He pulled out and put his pants back on. You stood up, pulling your dress down and putting your panties in place. "Thats kinda hot you know' Pullin your panties up like that" he said as he lit up a cigarette. "Oh shut it" you giggled as you slapped his arm playfully. "Lets get our asses back to the party, before anyone notices were gone" you said, the realization of the situation sinking in. Chibs nodded, making his way over to garage door to open it. "Shit.. i can't believe this actually happened" you admitted with a slight chuckle at the end.

Chibs smirked and looked at you

"You know I'm always a big fan of Breaking Boundries"

[cannibalizedlove]

Since ur wanting requests what if i requested one where its laurie laurence x cowboy! Reader where laurie laurence doesn't quite like guys and has the whole attitude where he's like "two men together r gross" Bc its the 1800s but the reader has this like very attractive southern accent and flirts with laurie so much to the point laurie just melts and falls in love? Could either be smut or fluff! (I came up with this idea from a southern show I was watching lol)

This is probably the cutest request because I love cowboys and Laurie, so I hope you enjoy as much as I did! I made this one a longer one, just because I love the idea so much and wanted to create more <3

Voice like whiskey.

Information and warning — much longer fic than usual, slow burn, male reader, cowboy reader, internalized homophobia laurie, laurie being a little rude jerk, the march sisters are included, grinding, making out, alcohol, pure gayness.

You were the March sisters younger cousin, and had been popping in for holidays since you were a young child.

Even though you were never around except for birthdays and Christmas, you would always send your earnings home to the girls.

Marmee would always ask you to stay, how she had the extra room and how the girls would love to be with you — but you always had to decline, the dirt roads and cattle called for you. She always thought your work was admirable, so she never pushed.

Soon, Christmas had rolled around and it was time to go see your family. With your boots muddy, your hat containing your messy hair, and dirt on your face; you knocked on the door, greeted by the smile of sweet Amy.

“Oh my beloved, Y/N! You’re finally here for us!” The girl exclaimed, throwing her arms around you and hugging your chest.

“Amy! Oh how I’ve missed you, darlin’” You chuckled, ruffling her hair and embracing her tightly.

“Where’s the others, I have much stories to tell about the trails, damn horse ran off cause of a snake, funniest thing!” You shook your head, patting Amy on the back before looking around for the other sisters you desperately missed.

“Well, Meg is at the fabric store, sewing some dress for some stupid dance I wasn’t even invited to!!” Amy grumpily replied with her hands on her hips, rolling her eyes as she continued; “Beth’s upstairs reading her music, you know how she is.. Oh, and Jo’s out in backyard with Mr. Laurence.” Amy said his name in a singy-songy voice.

You looked at the young girl with confusion, shocked at the new name, had Jo fell for some man? Impossible you thought, she’d never settle down and throw away her freedom for some boy.

“Mr. Laurence? Who in the Lords name is that.” You asked, making your way to back door as you tracked mud throughout the house, something Marmee would scold you for later.

“Oh, hes a fine young gentleman, you’ll like him!” Amy giggled, sitting down in the living room as she watched the fires flames grow with amazement.

You made your way out back, watching as Jo— and who you assumed was Mr. Laurence — rough housed.

“So when are you plannin’ on greetin’ me, you rascal?” You called out to Jo, watching affectionately as she laughed and smiled playing with her friend.

“Y/N! My boy!” Jo announced, pushing Mr. Laurence off of her and into the cold grass.

She ran to you, wrapping you in her arms with a tight squeeze. “I’ve missed you dearly. I can’t wait to hear about the trail stories!”

The Laurence descent watched with a cocked eyebrow, dusting his fancy winter clothes off as he approached you.

“Hello. I’m Laurie.” The boy said flatly, he was a bit taller than you, pale, and overwhelmingly handsome.

“Why, I’m Y/N, nice to meet you. This your boyfriend Jo?” You teased, elbowing her shoulder with a grin, resulting in a slap on the chest and a groan from you.

Laurie didn’t know what he was feeling, your eyes had a fire he hadn’t seen before, your hat casted shadows on your face that perfectly carved it like a statue. Your voice was like whiskey, he thought, but Laurie was refusing the drink.

“Who’s this Jesse James rip off..” Laurie whispered to Jo, taking a dig at your stereotypical attire.

“Laurie, this is my cousin, he’ll be staying with us while the holidays are going on. Y/N, this is my neighbor, Mr. Laurie Laurence.” Jo explained in an announcing speech.

As the day wore on, you found yourself trying to talk to Laurie more and more, each time he’d blow you off. This caused a pang in your heart, but you knew your charm had never let you down.

During dinner you had taken a seat next to him, and spread your legs enough to make the two of yours knees touch. This connection made Laurie blush, but never once moved his knee; a good sign you believed.

You told the stories about the cattle running off, and how your horse got spooked by a rattle snake leaving you in the middle of the trail.

Some of them would earn an under the breath laugh from Laurie, but most would result in a scoff and eye roll.

This cat and mouse game only made you want him more.

The girls were in the living room, Marmee had went to bed early, and you two boys were in the kitchen. You poured yourself a glass of rum, and offered Laurie one in good manners.

“No thanks, Billy the Kid.” Laurie huffed, leaning up against the kitchen island, the opposite side of you. The whole night he had been taking jabs at your country twang, your dirty boots and roughed up clothes.

Each time you felt like dropping the whole thing more and more, hell it was the 1800’s, men weren’t allowed to be together. There wasn’t a point in the hopeless flirting, you knew it wouldn’t work, yet you craved for him to feel the same.

“Come on, lighten up, old boy.” You playfully hit his arm, leaning against the island, taking a sip of your alcohol.

“Stop flirting with me. I don’t swing that way.” Laurie spat, and you felt your heart drop.

You knew from the beginning, but hearing it out loud was a pain much worse than the idea of it.

Laurie watched as the color drained from your face, and felt an overwhelming sense of sadness.

Laurie was sure he was straight, he believed women were gorgeous and his grandfather always told him he was going to marry a woman.

Yet, all that was thrown out the window with you. You were so charming, and as much as he led on that he thought your outlaw attire was ridiculous, he thought your tight jeans with that belt were extremely tantalizing.

All you could reply with was a nod, you took your drink into the living room and joined the sisters in their activities.

It didn’t last long before you decided to wallow in your tears in the comfort of the Marches guest room.

You made your way up the stairs, entered the room and shut the door, quietly sobbing against it. You hated this, you wanted to be ‘normal’, you wanted to have a wife and live comfortably, but it just wasn’t in the cards for you.

You had stripped down to your boxers and dirt stained shirt, laying on the bed with your head in your hands, when a knock broke you out of your trance.

“Not in the mood, Amy.” You yelled out, just wanting to be left alone in your hour of rejection.

“It’s Laurie.” A beautiful voice from the other side of the door called.

‘Is he really here just to make you feel worse?’ You thought. How stuck up could one man be! You were expecting more insults to be spat out by him as you opened the door.

“What can I do for you.” You asked coldly, only to look up and see tears in the taller males eyes.

He let himself in, sitting on the edge of the bed with his hands awkwardly rubbing against his knees.

“I’m sorry for how I’ve acted. I’m.. embarrassed of the truth I guess.” Laurie said quietly, like he was ashamed to even speak privately about it.

“Embarrassed about what, Laur?” You sat next to him, his eyes tightly screwing shut as he smelt your attracting musk.

“You can tell me, if its about ear-“ You were completely cut off, Laurie grabbed your face, smashing your lips into yours and pulling you closer.

He greedily grabbed for all of you, he needed you like you were his oxygen source. He crawled ontop of you, sitting on your lap and licked your bottom lip, asking for entrance, when you graciously accepted his request, he dug in like a starving man.

Your tongues fought for dominance but ultimately, you won. Needy moans escaped from his pretty lips, and he grinded down on your growing bulge.

His entire body was heating up, his mind was melted, all he knew was your mouth and he was obsessed with it. Laurie didn’t know if it was the rum, or your taste, but he was completely drunk off of it.

When you pulled away slightly for a moment to catch your breath, Laurie backed away, his face a shade of bright red that you could see even though the dimly lit room.

“I thought you didn’t.. swing that way.” You asked in shallow breaths, touching your lips in a complete state of shock.

“I don’t know. I just know I want you. I’ve never felt this way before.” He said, hiding his face in his hands, afraid of ruining everything.

“That’s okay, Laurie-Darlin’. We’ll figure it out together.” You held his face in your calloused hand, keeping his eyes on you.

“Just come here, country boy.” He pressed his lips against yours once again, a softer more gentle approach than before.

Your voice was like whiskey, and he was finally accepting the drink.

[paintedplum7]

Dave Miller’s Character—From the Perspective of an Age Regressor

Slight disclaimer: This is not meant to be a 100% ‘yes this is the intended reading’ kind of analysis post on Dave Miller. I’m mostly writing this for myself more than anything, but I also feel like there is something here, intended or not! Take in mind I’m also not going to be using supplementary material like ask replies from Dogman into account, just the games! Feel free to take anything I say with a small palmful of salt ;]

So when I got back into DSAF earlier back in November, becoming familiar with Dave after realizing that I was an age regressor sort of made me put his character in a new light. Recently, I played through all three DSAF games in order, and there were several moments—particularly in DSAF 3—that sort of made me go “oh yeah, he totally is an age regressor”.

Dave’s regression is more psychological, more permanent, similar to my own, so that’s the lens I’ll be viewing Dave from for the remainder of this post. Usually, when I think of Dave, there’s a Bojack Horseman quote that pops up in my mind every time. Paraphrased from memory, it’s “People who become famous in their twenties stay in their twenties,” and I think that quote applies to Dave very well. Even Jack, who similarly died in his twenties, still matures with his franchise if we take his dialogue options at face value. Dave however, never changes all that much. Yes, his character is refined in between DSAF 1 and 2, but after that point, he remains largely stagnant.

We know that Dave associates his young adulthood to be his childhood, and seeks to recreate his childhood via Jack. Well into his middle ages in the nineties, and even after his soul is split apart between realities, even after he learns the truth of Henry, and leaves Jack, he still clings those memories. That much is obvious. Dave’s childhood at Fredbear’s is tied to him all throughout the series; it dictates how he acts, but that’s explicitly stated in the games several times. I want to dig a little deeper, because I think his regression extends more than just him being close to the diner.

Dave is incredibly childish, even for someone that’s presumably stuck in his twenties due to the experiments conducted by Henry. Henry said himself that Dave’s conscience ‘unburdened itself’ after he started taking tissue from his frontal lobe. Some aspects of his childishness include:

Talking to himself.

Being a messy eater.

Throwing tantrums. (I’m sorry for the dip in quality. I had to boot up my computer to get these specific lines of text because there was no useable footage online, and I had to use my shitty phone camera to get these pictures because Windows makes transferring screenshots to mobile devices so DIFFICULT).

And squabbling on whether Chica is a duck or not with Dee, to name a few. (I find this fight to be interesting on Dee’s end, too. Dee and Dave are foils. Dee believing herself to be an adult despite being six years old, and Dave’s childish tendencies well into his adulthood is just one of the many examples of them being foils).

Even his fears display his immaturity!

This is just off the top of my head, too! If I’ve missed something let me know!

In spite of that, Dave loves feeling useful, and I think it’s in due to the fact that Henry frequently infantilized him in their time together, and him calling Dave ‘Willy’ is only scratching the surface of examples.

(Mollycoddle means to give someone an absurd amount of protection, or pampering, typically towards men and boys).

I know that feeling of knowing that you’re less mature than your other peers, and having the need to make up for it, and I think Dave encapsulates that feeling very well.

I think what I love the most about Dave and his regression is that he’s still unapologetically raunchy! His childishness, his immaturity, his regression, whatever you want to call it—it doesn’t exempt him from that part of himself. It’s easy to associate what isn’t the perfect pastel-colored box as ‘ugly regression’, a term that I hate because it implies regression needs to look a certain way. It doesn’t; that’s not true at all. I’m very glad there’s a character like Dave I can relate to, even if I am grasping for straws out here lol

This was a really fun, self-indulgent analysis to make, and while I doubt most of it was intentional, I think there’s something you can get out of this, particularly with Dave and Henry, but that’s it for now!

[vodika-vibes]

I'd be so grateful if you wrote Dogma and F!Reader having a movie marathon. I'd like to see that boy flustered ~

Surprising Realizations

Summary: Dogma gets invited to his crush’s home for a movie marathon.

Pairing: Clone Trooper Dogma x F!Reader

Word Count: 1080

Warnings: Idiots in love

A/N: Yeah, I knew this was going to go over the word count, simply because it's Dogma. Anyway, I hope you like it! You didn't ask for idiots in love, but that's what you're getting.

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

Dogma nervously tugs on the hem of his new tee shirt. The whole outfit is new. It’s a simple outfit, a plain tee shirt, and comfortable jeans, and it’s his only civilian attire.

Now he’s regretting that he didn’t break them in before today, but it’s too late to worry about that now.

Quickly, before convincing himself that this is a terrible idea, he knocks on the apartment door and waits patiently. Well, semi-patiently.

There are a handful of civilians who work with the 501st regularly, and of that handful of people, only one or two are allowed on the Resolute when they deploy. This apartment belongs to one of those people.

She’s an IT whiz and, according to her, she’s solely responsible for making sure that none of the computers on the Resolute break while they’re traveling.

She likes to say that anyone with training could do her job, but Dogma’s not so sure he agrees. Oh, sure, any of his brothers probably could do her job. They’re not stupid men after all. 

But, in his opinion, she also offers some much-needed morale for himself and his brothers. More himself than his brothers.

She’s…kind. Kind and good and pretty. And when she smiles, it’s like watching the sunrise, and when she laughs it’s like hearing bells ringing.

Dogma is smitten. He knows it.

Which is why being here is such a bad idea. Because he knows that he’s going to say something stupid and offend her, or, even worse, he might confess his feelings and then she’ll know and it’ll be the worst day of his life—

But she personally invited him to movie night, so here he is. 

Dogma shifts slightly when he hears the door open, and when he sees her, he almost forgets to breathe.

She’s stunning. Even with her hair pulled in a messy knot, even though she’s wearing a ratty shirt and sweatpants, even though she’s not wearing any make-up. She’s still stunning.

A blinding smile crosses her face, “Dogma! You’re here!” She moves to the side to allow him into her home, “I’m making some pizza for us to share, and some mozzarella sticks.” She shuts and locks the door once he’s in her apartment, “It’ll still be a bit before dinner, maybe about half an hour? So make yourself comfortable.”

Dogma slides his boots off and sets them next to the door, and then looks around. Her apartment is tiny, though he remembers her telling Commander Tano that she lives in a studio. He always thought studios were big, based on the name.

He’s surprised that it’s just the two of them, though. Dogma knows that he saw her talking to Jesse and Kix…maybe they’re late? Or he’s just early.

“You can go ahead and start picking out movies if you like,” She adds as she heads toward her small kitchen, “I have a bunch, the ones that aren’t so good are labeled—”

“Sure,” Dogma heads towards the couch, noting with some amusement that the couch and entertainment center takes up the majority of the apartment. Her bedroom area is sectioned off with some elegant-looking folding screens. “Am I early?”

“Sorry?” She asks, looking up from where she’s messing with something.

“It’s just…no one else is here yet—”

Dogma stares, amazed, as she ducks her head and sheepishly rubs the back of her neck, “Ah, well,” She starts, her voice suddenly very nervous, “It’s just us, you see.”

“Did Jesse and Kix cancel on you?”

“No, no! Nothing like that. I just…only invited you?” She offers sheepishly.

“...what?”

“Well, you see, my home is very small,” She says quickly, “And I can’t really fit a lot of people here anyway, so I had to pick and choose who I wanted to invite and I, well, I picked you.”

Dogma blinks at her, stunned and more than a little flustered, “But, like, I was your third or fourth choice, I’m sure—”

“Ah, no. You were my only choice. I didn’t ask anyone else—” She looks about as embarrassed and flustered as he feels, “Is that weird? Should I have invited someone else?”

“No!” Dogma flushes and presses a hand over his eyes, “Uhm…no. No this is fine. I prefer it like this, actually. You know what my brothers are like—” He gets to be alone with the woman he’s been crushing on and she’s going to feed him, this is a dream come true.

She smiles at him then, though she still looks very flustered, “You do?”

“Well, sure. We don’t get to talk much when we’re working, right?”

Delight slides across her face and Dogma feels his heart skip a beat. She’s so unfairly pretty. “Well, we’re busy people.” Her smile widens, “Have you picked a movie you want to start with?”

“Uh, not really. I don’t know any of these,” Dogma admits, though he does start a random movie, “I guess we can start with I Married Lady Frankenstein.”

“Ooh, that’s a comedy horror movie, it’s kind of campy but I like it.” She looks over the food that she’s making, “Will you grab a bag of cheese from the fridge for me?”

“Yeah, sure.” He pulls open the fridge, grabs the bag of cheese, and tosses it on the counter next to her. 

“Thanks~”

“I’m happy to hel—” Dogma stops midsentence because she leans up and presses her lips against his cheek. His face burns with flustered embarrassment, but the only thing he can think is soft.

His gaze snaps to her face, and she’s staring up at him through wide, worried eyes…Dogma gets so flustered at the look on her face, that he lifts his hands to cover her eyes. “Please stop looking at me with those eyes. I can’t think!”

She tugs his hand down slightly, the look of worry fading away to gentle amusement, “Was that too much?”

“You’re going to be the death of me by the end of the night.” Dogma announces as he covers her eyes again, “You just don’t play fair at all, do you?”

“Sorry,” She doesn’t sound very sorry though.

Dogma moves his fingers so she’s able to peek up at him, and a teasing smile crosses his face, “If you’re going to kiss me, you can at least do it properly.”

She releases a flustered squeak and moves his hand to hide behind it.

His grin widens at her reaction and he knows that tonight is going to be great.

@imabeautifulbutterfly

@n0vqni

@bad4amficideas

@justiceandwar98

@mira-loves-star-wars

@tiredbi-peach

@dukeoftheblackstar

@trixie2023

@kimiheartblade

@padawancat97

@falconfeather23435

@etod

@bb8-99

@kiss-anon

@continous-mistakes

@yoitsjay

@liz-stat

@cc--2224

@adriennelenoir

@cdblake1565

@sweater-sloot

@heidnspeak

[sokkigarden]

Hi babe. I have a special request cause I'm SAD! Can I get a jamie x reader where Jamie is always there to hear about readers failed dates but he's actually hopelessly in love with her? Then romantic reveal? Lots of kissing? Idk do what you want with it

tysm for sending this in! i didn't forget about this ask i swear! this drabble was sitting in my brain for days and i finally wrote it all out in a haze of productivity LOL. i hope you like this and i hope you aren't sad anymore eeee <333

i've loved you for so long

jamie tartt x female reader | 1.2k words | friends to lovers

“ugh i can’t believe i went out with him again! especially after the whole handshake thing.”

jamie looked over at you as you snuggled into his couch cushions, recounting yet another disastrous date you had just come from. he wanted to be a good friend and listen, but he was finding it hard to pay attention. his mind was aflutter with his own messy thoughts.

should he tell you the truth?

he loved being your friend and being there for you, especially on nights like these. he loved how your cheeks got flush as you talked too fast, giving every detail of the story. he loved how you clutched his throw pillow, still dressed up from your date but heels discarded by the front door. he loved how you spread your legs across his couch, like you owned the place. in a way you did. in a way, you owned his heart, his whole being; home and prized possessions be damned. 

he loved that he was the first person you wanted to talk to after a failed night out. among your many months of friendship, you had been a comfort to him in so many ways. he felt lucky to believe you thought the same of him. 

to put it simply, he loved you. everything about you. 

and he was a coward to not say anything. sitting in angsty silence as you talked about being wine-and-dined by other men every other week. he knew what you wanted, and he wanted that same thing, with you, so why couldn’t he just let himself admit it?

he hummed as you continued, nodding along to your story when appropriate. your feet were in his lap, and he ran his fingers gently along your calf, watching in the lowlight as you shivered at his touch.

“i should’ve known when he dropped me off with a handshake that it wouldn’t work out. a handshake! who does that!” you exclaimed. “like if you don’t want to kiss me, there are other options available.”

you huffed, awaiting his response, but suddenly the image of kissing you himself was all jamie could think of. up against the door to your flat. in the boot room. out on the pitch after a win. while cooking dinner together. in the morning between his sheets.

“that’s crazy,” he said absentmindedly. clearly not the response you were expecting from him.

“hm?”

“the fact he didn’t kiss you,” he added, speaking without fully thinking about what he was saying. “i would’ve.”

you rolled your eyes, shaking your head at his words. “thanks, jamie.” 

you clearly thought it was all a joke. as you let out a soft chuckle, you caught him staring at you intensely. jamie always gave you his full attention, but in that moment he couldn’t help himself. he knew he wore his emotions on his face but he refused to look away. 

he held your stare for a moment, before glancing from your eyes to your nose. his gaze lingered on your lips for a beat too long before he focused back on your eyes.

you broke eye contact first, looking away shakily. you pulled your feet off his lap and warning bells rang through his head. he’s messed this up. you were retreating from him, and he will never get to fully tell you how he feels. hell, you probably won’t even be his friend after this. 

he bit the inside of his cheek, trying to stave off the negative thoughts coursing through his head. he was brought back into the moment as he felt you shift closer, having set down the pillow you’d been holding. 

he didn’t dare to make a move, sitting frozen as he watched you come closer. he held his breath as you ran a hand gently through his hair and pressed an experimental kiss to the side of his mouth.

as soon as your lips touched, it was like jamie finally woke up. he took the opportunity in stride, kissing you like he’s wanted to for ages.

you were warm against him, and soft. so soft. he wound his arms around your torso, pulling you closer. he kissed you like it was his only chance to prove his love to you. your hands tangled in his hair, scratching your nails across his scalp. he felt alive for the first time. he didn’t want this moment to end. 

he pressed open mouthed kisses across your jaw and neck. he found a spot just beneath your ear that made you hum, low in your throat.

“you’re either an extremely good kisser or you’ve wanted to do this for a while,” you said, your voice a bit breathless. 

jamie’s conquest of your neck paused and he pulled back slightly. you wondered if you had ruined the moment. 

he looked deeply into your eyes as he affirmed, “both,” before seizing your lips again. you melted against him, and he wondered what he was so scared of. why he hadn’t done this sooner. 

“i’ve wanted you for so long,” he mumbled against your lips. 

now it was your turn to pause, as you broke apart. you blinked several times as if trying to clear your head. 

“jamie,” you started, and he felt his heart drop. here it comes. rejection. “you know i’m not just looking to hook up right? i keep going on these dates because i want to find something more.”

his eyebrows knitted together as he processed your words. did you really think all he wanted was to sleep with you? 

“do you really not know?” 

you shook your head in confusion. “know what?”

“how much i love you.”

jamie saw your eyes go wide and your mouth opened but no words came out. so there it was. he’d finally said it. there was no going back. he didn’t want to think about just how screwed up he was if you didn’t feel the same.

you slid your hands over his shoulders, clearly trying to process his words. finally you spoke.

“i didn’t know you felt this way.” 

jamie pulled away, creating distance between the two of you. he didn’t want your pity. he didn’t want you to let him down softly. he just wanted to finally be honest with himself, and with you. he hoped he was strong enough to face the consequences.

“it’s okay if you don’t,” he replied. “i just… it had to come out eventually i guess.”

you grasped his hand, running your fingers across his knuckles. you stared at the plains of his palm as you spoke.

“i was only going on so many dates to distract myself. to get past my feelings for you.” you finally glanced up at him. “i didn’t think i had a chance.”

jamie shook his head in disbelief. “how could you not? you’re everything to me.”

he squeezed your hands, holding eye contact, hoping his feelings crossed his face like every other emotion seemed to. in return, your eyes glistened in the lowlight. 

“we’ve always just been good friends,” you said, “and i’m not like the girls you normally date.”

suddenly jamie swept his arms around you, embracing you in a hug, burying his face in your hair. you hugged him back just as much.

“you’re so much more than that.” he murmured. 

you brought your lips to his once more, pouring every emotion into your kiss.

and in that moment, everything finally clicked into place.

song inspo: i've loved you for so long by the aces !!

friendly reminder that my inbox is always open for requests, but i might not write out drabbles for everything. i'm also open if you just want to chat about jamie, or ted lasso in general! <3

[dragunflies]

⤯ 𝐈𝐧 𝐊𝐞𝐥𝐥𝐲 ->

Ellie Williams X Fem Reader

omg, my first fic, eek! so scared lowk but I have so much saved in my docs that I need to spill soon. Ok, love ya, lmk what u think, constructive crit is welcomed per usual <3 ⚢

❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❦❧❦❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧❦❧

  It was a cool mid Autumn morning. You sat there with the open window breezing against your flushed face and loose hair. It was an empty one-bedroom house, the cold air accompanied by the hollow walls made it eerie but relaxing. Wearing simply a baggy t-shirt and underwear you rose from the nest of a bed that formed while you slept. Although you snore, you sleep like a baby. With a head full of messy dark brown hair, a quick finger comb through your hair evens out the texture and density to some extent. Rolling out of bed, you crack your back, letting out a groan of relief, slowly easing your way out of your cozy bed. Come the fall time, the need for patrol hits its peak, most infected don’t stay out in the cold, so they tend to be the most active at the cusp of autumn.

As your eyes adjust to the light from the outside, so do your ears, the muttering of Jackson echoed through the neighborhood and led into your home. You reach for the hairbrush next to your bedside and try your best to aggressively claw out the knots left.

While you brushed and brushed your long hair, you heard the voices becoming more distinct. One specific member of the town, Ellie, became particularly known very quickly and very shortly. Her voice was raspy and stuck out quickly from the crowd; you could pinpoint it was her instantly. Not only did she just arrive a few years prior, but she was quick. With a quick tongue and a quicker fist, no one fucked with her. She was like a chihuahua, all bark and bite. Intimidating, but intriguing and sometimes weird to look at for too long. But oh did she piss you off, getting cocky and assertive in the smallest of tasks. She always insists on signing the postbooks, never shares her rations, and complains about hypothermia despite only wearing thin canvas sneakers. 

God was she the fucking worst.

Hearing all the commotion outside, you persist, throwing on a pair of jeans, a belt, and a long-sleeved black top, rolling up the sleeves to your elbows. As you get to the door, you swing on a pair of your best and only boots and slide into a pocket-ridden jacket. You searched for your lighter and handgun, striking the white lighter to double-check its usage. You then make your way out of the suburban make-shift home and easily make your way to Jackson, the city you grew up in. 

The leaves crunched below your boots as you made your way to the town center, where the majority of the town gathered that morning for the patrol assignments. Looking around you see familiar face after face, lining the circle surrounding Maria and the handful of men who surrounded her. Fortunately, you missed the entire meeting, but unfortunately as you have zero idea what the fuck you’re assigned to do. Surprisingly, Maria didn’t call you out like she usually does, by now she would've had your neck for being this casually late to a meeting like this, especially such an important one- 

“Y/n.” Maria states assertively, the loud chatting turning to a shushed mumble.

You look around trying to avoid the piercing eye contact but falling back into her stone-cold stare, it went right through you, sending shivers and goosebumps.

“Yes, ma’am?” You ask, never using such proper language when addressing someone, ever in your life, you shuttle at the look Maria gave.

Her boot steps sounded louder than they ever did before.

“This is the 5th time this month.” She barked, the surrounding crowd turning away and quickly sharing chatter with their cliques. 

“Yeah, I know, just trust me, I was in a rush, I didn’t even put my hair up,” You say, placing your hands in your pockets in the hope of hiding your anxious picking.

“I watch you stroll into the center all relaxed, you seem in no way of a rush,” Maria stated, her voice lowering as she raised a single eyebrow.

“Okay and?” Y/n mumbles, “Guarantee it wasn’t anything important.” 

She lowered her eyebrow, crossed her arms, and raised her head abruptly, “You missed patrols, you were assigned the post north-east of Kelly,” Maria’s lips curled, looking y/n up and down as she walked away to her office building, “better get packing, that’s nothing important, right?”. You could hear the smile form on Maria’s lips as she walked away.

Are you fucking kidding me? Kelly, the farthest post owned by Jackson, all because you missed one meeting? Not even just the Kelly outpost, the farthest fucking post all the way up in the peaks- oh my fucking god. 

Growing up in Jackson, you were trained for all different kinds of situations. Though you weren’t born here, it was where you learned everything you know now. Combat, shooting, hunting, gathering, and all the basics. Yeah, you weren’t always at the top of your class in everything, but you were a damn good aid. Knowing each medicine by its prefix or suffix, biology, and medicine is where you shine. Yeah, not combat, but you can survive, that’s all that matters. 

“Who am I posted with?” Y/n called out, a scoff leaving your voice as you exhaled, her eyes closed hoping for a big group where she could simply sit back and watch.

With Maria’s back still turned, she answered with a pause. “Williams, she has the experience you don’t, trust me, you won't be that screwed.” 

You stood there waiting for more people to be announced on your patrol. Nope, just Ellie. Fucking. Williams. 

With a groan of dissatisfaction, you turned around, looking through the crowds of people, with everyone holding warm mugs and staying clumped together, it was hard to find that short mother-fucker. You still couldn’t believe it, peering between each conversation, trying to find the auburn-headed girl. She was so obviously loud this morning, how could you not find her now, when you actually needed to get ahold of her. 

Suddenly, after walking around town center for a minute, you overhear a group of chatter, 

“I can’t believe Maria would pair you two up like that,” One voice echoed down an alley.

“I know- like out of all of us standing there, she picks y/n.” Another states.

“I’m fucked.” Says another. 

That was the voice. The raspy and obvious voice stood out so quickly to your ears.

You followed the group of voices, walking down a strip of self-owned stores, the in-between of the two buildings had voices spilling out of it. You walked closer, and upon turning into the alleyway,

There she was.