#and those boys have to be close to each other

[greengoblinswifey]

Game of Deception—Lee Myung-Gi/Player 333 x Fem!Reader

summary— You and Myung-gi, share a growing attraction despite the chaos around you. But when his past surfaces, including a pregnant ex-girlfriend, your trust in him is shattered.

warnings—angst, manipulation, face fucking, choking, unprotected sex, creampie, praise kink, slight degradation, betrayal.

Most of the players were asleep, but Lee Myung-gi wasn’t. You noticed him sitting up, his shoulders tense, staring off into the distance.

“Can’t sleep?” you asked softly, pulling the thin blanket around your shoulders as you sat up.

He turned to you, startled for a moment before his expression softened. “No, too much on my mind.”

“Do you want to lie down with me? It might help.” You hesitated before patting the small space beside you.

He gave you a small, shy smile and nodded. “Sure.”

As he lay beside you, the warmth of his body was comforting despite the cold reality of where you were. You felt his arm hesitantly drape over your waist, and you didn’t stop him.

“You’re so beautiful,” he murmured after a moment, his voice barely audible over the soft snores of other players in the room.

You smiled, your heart fluttering at his words. “You think so?”

“I know so,” he replied, as his eyes roamed your face.

This wasn’t the first time Myung-gi had looked at you like that. From the moment the games began, you noticed his quiet, reserved nature, how he tried to stay out of trouble but always had a sharp eye for the dangers lurking around. It had been during one of those dangerous moments that you first stepped in for him.

Thanos and his bird brained friend had cornered him during the chaos of the first night. “What’s the matter, pretty boy? Too scared to fight back?” Thanos taunted, shoving him roughly.

Before Myung-gi could respond, you stepped forward. “Why don’t you pick on someone else asshole?” you snapped.

Thanos turned to you, laughing until he realized you weren’t backing down. “What’s it to you baby?”

“It’s that I don’t like bullies,” you shot back, crossing your arms. “You think intimidating him makes you tough? All I see is a desperate for attention piece of shit.”

For a moment, it seemed like Thanos would retaliate, but your unwavering glare and the growing attention of other players made him back off. “Whatever,” he muttered, walking away with his friend.

Myung-gi had looked at you with something akin to awe. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said quietly.

You shrugged. “I wasn’t about to let them mess with you.”

From that moment, the two of you stuck together. You shared meals, sitting side by side as the reality of the games sunk in. He always made sure you had enough to eat, even offering you a portion of his food at times.

“You don’t have to do that,” you said one night as he pushed his bowl toward you.

“It’s fine,” he replied, a small smile on his lips. “You need your strength.”

His quiet protectiveness was something you weren’t used to, but you found yourself growing more attached to him with each passing day.

A few minutes after his whispered compliment about your beauty, you leaned closer, your voice low. “Come with me to the bathroom.”

He blinked in surprise but nodded, curiosity evident in how he stared at you. The two of you slipped past the sleeping players and surprisingly indifferent guards. Once inside the bathroom, you led him into a stall and locked the door behind you.

“Myung-gi,” you breathed, leaning back against the wall, your eyes locking with his. His dark gaze flickered between your lips and your eyes, and before you could say another word, he closed the space between you, capturing your mouth in a kiss that was both soft and urgent.

His hands rested on your waist, pulling you closer as the kiss deepened. The cold stall melted away, replaced by the heat radiating between you.

“You’re driving me crazy,” he murmured against your lips, his forehead pressing to yours.

“You think I’m not just as crazy about you?” you whispered back.

His lips curved into a small smile before he kissed you again, slower this time, as if savoring every second.

The attraction between you was impeccable, impossible to ignore despite the circumstances. His hands traced your sides, then down to your ass, and his lips pressed kisses along your jaw and down your neck.

“You’re incredible,” he whispered.

As the moment intensified, you pulled back slightly, catching your breath. His hands remained gentle on your waist, his gaze searching your face for any hesitation.

“You’re incredible, Myung-gi,” you said softly.

He smiled, leaning his forehead against yours. “And you’re all I think about, even in this hell hole.”

You were deeply attracted to him. You weren’t sure if you were just being codependent due to the harsh reality of the games and you needed something—someone to take your mind off it, or you just really liked him. Whatever it was, you didn’t care. All you cared about was him and possibly making it out alive. All you cared about was pleasing him, having him see you the way you saw him. So, you fell to your knees.

“Fuck, you’re so dirty,” he moaned as you pulled down his pants and boxers in one swift motion.

As you freed him, your lip caught in between your teeth. He was hard and thick, already leaking pre cum from his pink tip. With your gaze locked on his, you slowly took him into your mouth, lips and tongue gliding across the shaft. Myung-gi hissed as you took him further, your hands stroking what you couldn’t take down your throat.

“Fuck baby, just like that,” he rasped, his hand tangling in your curls.

His praises willed you on and you began bobbing your head steadily, saliva beginning to drip down your chin.

“You look so fucking good like this, on your knees for me,” he praised.

His grip tightened in your hair and you dug your nails into his thigh as he began to thrust into your mouth. Each time he did, the bulbous head would hit the back of your throat making you gag.

“I love hearing you gag on my dick,” he breathed, looking down at you, jaw agape.

Your tongue glided across the shaft as his thrusts grew more frantic and without warning, you felt something warm and salty shoot down your throat. He held your head down on his cock, your nose buried in his neatly trimmed pubic hair as you felt his cock twitch in your mouth. When he finally let go you swallowed and gasped for breath.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he said, pulling you up to your feet and placing a kiss on your lips.

While you were happy he felt that way and you were able to please him, something felt—off. But you couldn’t place your finger on it.

You felt Myung-gi’s warm breath on the nape of your neck as he whispered, “Turn around.” His voice was soft but carried a weight of authority that made your heart race but you turned to face the wall of the stall.

There was a sense of urgency in his touch as he rested his hands on your hips, pulling down your pants and your underwear, steadying you. He leaned closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he murmured, “Trust me.” The closeness sent a shiver through you, and you let out a shaky breath, nodding.

You gasped loudly as you felt his hard cock tease your entrance, slowly slipping inside you, the stretch burning. He stared down at his cock that was covered in your cream as he pulled out of you, leaving only the tip inside. He slammed back in, your ass recoiling against him as you cried out.

“Quiet,” he whispered, his tone gentle but commanding. “You’re doing so well.” The words sent warmth rushing through you, and you felt his hand snake around to rest lightly at your throat. His other hand reached down, thumb stroking your clit in rough circles, and his lips pressed soft kisses to your shoulder.

His thrusts sped up, growing sloppier by the minute. Each time his cock disappeared inside you, it would hit your g spot making you shudder and bite back a moan. You pushed your ass back against him but it made him tighten his grip around your throat. He called the shots and you absolutely loved it.

“Cum with me,” he murmured against your skin, “squeezing my dick so fucking tight.”

He rolled his hips to meet yours and as you felt his cum spurt inside you, your own climax took ahold of you. You moaned his name like it was the only word you knew, the orgasm the best thing you had ever felt these past few days.

When the moment passed, Myung-gi’s forehead rested against your shoulder, his breathing uneven as he muttered a quiet, “Sorry, I, uh, didn’t mean to cum inside you.”

You chuckled softly, shaking your head to ease the awkwardness. “It’s fine,” you said with a smile. “Not like we need more problems right now.” He let out a quiet laugh, his hand brushing through his hair as he looked at you with an apologetic smile.

With care, he helped you straighten up and quietly cleaned you off. You both slipped out of the bathroom and returned to the dormitory in silence, careful not to draw attention.

Back in your corner of the room, you lay down on the small bed, noticing how Myung-gi didn’t pull you into his arms as he had the nights before. He stayed near, but the space between you felt heavier than it should. You glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, his expression unreadable as he stared at the ceiling.

“Goodnight,” you whispered softly, hoping to ease the tension.

He nodded, but his response was delayed. “Goodnight,” he finally replied, his tone distant.

You turned over, staring at the other players and willing sleep to come. You didn’t want to overthink it—there was too much at stake in the morning—but a small part of you couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted. Still, you pushed the thoughts aside. You needed to rest. The next game wouldn’t wait for anyone.

The nerves in the dormitory felt heavier the next morning, though you couldn’t tell if it was because of the lingering tension from the previous night or the looming threat of the next game. Myung-gi sat across the room, his head bent slightly as he talked quietly with another player, a woman you hadn’t really noticed before. She clutched her stomach occasionally, her face pale and tired.

You tried to ignore it, focusing on your own nerves, but the way they spoke, close and hushed, stirred something bitter in your chest. When their conversation ended, you approached him, your tone light but curious.

“Who was that?” you asked, nodding in the woman’s direction.

He glanced at you briefly and shrugged. “Nobody.”

Nobody. The word lingered in your mind, sour and unconvincing, but you didn’t have time to push the matter.

The game that day was brutal, each second teetering on the edge of survival. You nearly lost your life more than once, the screams of other players ringing in your ears as you clawed your way through. Myung-gi, however, didn’t stay near you like he usually did. He stuck close to the woman—Player 222 and it wasn’t subtle. Every glance he threw her way, every time he stepped in to help her, made your blood boil.

By the time you both staggered back into the dormitory alive, you were too drained to confront him. But you couldn’t let it go. After seeing him ignore you all day, you decided to approach the woman instead.

She sat quietly in a corner, her hands protectively over her stomach. Forcing a small smile, you made your way over, trying to keep your tone friendly.

“Hey,” you began softly. “You did well out there. I know it wasn’t easy.”

She glanced up, offering a weak smile. “Thanks, you too.”

You hesitated, unsure how to broach the topic. “I, uh, noticed you and Myung-gi talking earlier. Do you know him well?”

Her expression faltered. She let out a heavy sigh, her hand instinctively going to her stomach again. “We used to,” she admitted. “A long time ago.”

You frowned, a pit forming in your stomach. “Used to?”

She nodded, her eyes dropping to the floor. “We were together. I got pregnant, and he, well, he wanted me to get rid of it.” She paused. “When I didn’t, he walked away. Scammed me too. I shouldn’t even be here,” she said, shaking her head.

You stared at her, stunned into silence as her words settled over you like a heavy weight. She noticed your expression and sighed again.

“Look,” she said, “I’m not telling you what to do. Make your own decisions. But don’t trust him. He told me he wanted to get out of this together.”

Your chest tightened, your thoughts racing. You swallowed hard, offering her a weak smile. “Thank you for telling me,” you said quietly. “Take care of yourself. And your baby.”

She nodded, giving you a small, grateful smile.

You found Myung-gi sitting alone, leaning against the wall with his eyes closed. You marched over, your heart pounding in anger and disbelief.

“When were you going to tell me?” you demanded.

His eyes opened slowly, confusion flashing across his face. “Tell you what?”

“That your pregnant ex-girlfriend is here,” you snapped.

He groaned, rubbing the back of his neck. “You talked to Jun-hee, didn’t you?”

“She told me everything,” you hissed. “How you wanted her to get rid of her baby, how you took her money. And now, what? You’re telling her you want to get out of this together? The same thing you told me?”

“Hey, calm down,” he said, his tone defensive. “It’s not like that.”

“Don’t,” you said sharply, your voice trembling. “Don’t act like I’m overreacting. You’ve been ignoring me all day, sticking by her side, and now I find out you’ve been lying to me this whole time?”

“I didn’t lie to you,” he snapped back. “And don’t fucking say I used you.”

“Didn’t you?” you shot back, your voice rising. “You knew exactly what you were doing. And now you’re trying to downplay it like it’s nothing.”

He groaned, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “I didn’t mean for this to happen, okay? Things are complicated.”

“Complicated?” You let out a bitter laugh. “You don’t even care, do you? About me, about her. You’re just looking out for yourself.”

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t respond. That silence was all the confirmation you needed.

“I’m done,” you said firmly, stepping back. “Don’t talk to me again.”

You turned and walked away, your chest aching as his voice called out faintly behind you. You didn’t stop. There wasn’t time for this, not here, not now. You had to focus on surviving, even if that meant doing it alone.

[s4nguiine]

deep blue

capitano x GN!reader

» summary: capitano saves you during the war with the abyss and you get to know each other. sadly, things are not meant to be. the right person at the wrong time type deal

» rating: sfw

» notes: this is angst. it doesn't end well. capitano is such a tragic character, i couldn't write a happy ending for him. sorry!

“get behind me!”

hours has it been since the abyss’ invasion upon your homeland, and with all the vision bearers in your group defeated by the monsters, the burden was passed to you to protect the children and the elderly. although you are familiar with the sword in your hands, you tremble now in the face of your enemies concealed by the thick dark fog around you.

word has it the heroes and the outlander are going around helping people. if that is the case, then your caravan has to be very well hidden, for none of them have shown up to help so far.

you pray someone finds you. oh, archon, please let someone-

you are snapped out of your thoughts by a snarl to your left and you barely have any time to shift your posture and raise your sword. the strange-looking wolf clamps down on the steel, growling as it’s denied a bite of your flesh. you shake with exertion, feet planted firmly in the ground. soaked with blood as it is though, you end up getting pushed back.

you can’t give up here. you can’t let the creature topple you. you have to protect these people.

a pair of hands finds itself upon your back. you chance a glance back to find the very people you’re protecting watching you with equal fear and determination. more hands join that pair, and as they push forward, you are stopped from sliding backwards.

they don’t say anything, but you know this: you are not alone in this.

and with an emboldening yell, you grip the sword tighter in your hand and you push forward, slicing through the wolf’s jaw open. it yelps and retreats, and you’re about to cheer for your first personal victory, when a sharp scream penetrates the air. swishing around, you find a child raised in the air, held by a mighty mitachurl with an axe in its other arm.

someone yells out the boy’s name, but the sound is muffled against the pounding of your heart as you dart past the group of people, hand outreached to save the child. you’re not allowed to do this, however, as another wolf dives in from your side to close its jaws around your shoulder.

panicking, you dig your blade into its flesh and you swing it in whatever direction, splitting the creature in half and making it let you go. when your eyes are back on the mitachurl, it is raising its axe to cut down the people in front of it. you won’t make it. you know you won't. this powerlessness creeps up under your skin; the battle is over.

just when you’ve lost all hope, a gunshot echoes through the fog. the mitachurl releases its axe with a metallic clang and the claws around the boy’s neck go loose. your body moves seemingly out of its own volition, for before you know it you are lunging forward. the boy falls into the safety of your arms and you crouch, cradling him closely to shield him with your body.

and then you feel something warm spray across your face. you look up, and the hulking churl has been cut in half. as it comes tumbling down, you see a tall man standing behind it clad in armor you do not recognize. a helmet obscures his face, yet you know he is looking directly at you.

you’re tired and out of breath, but you grip your sword in your hand all the same and raise the steel blade against this foreigner.

he merely swings his sword to get rid of the blood stuck to it.

“stand down,” he finally speaks and his voice is so deep and gravelly it rumbles in the depths of his chest. “we’ve come to your aid.”

fatui soldiers emerge from the darkness. is he a fatuus then? unsure of their allyship, your weapon remains pointed at him.

“how do i know that you’re not one of those shapeshifting monsters?” you ask.

“have you ever heard them speak?”

you turn his words over in your head. he’s right, they don’t speak, and they certainly don’t kill their own. you lower your weapon at last and release the boy in your arms, who immediately runs to find his mother.

after a deep breath or two you manage to stand back on your feet to face the stranger.

he asks, “are there any more fighters among you?”

“i’m afraid i’m the last one standing,” you reply. your hand shakes as you sheathe your sword. the man places his hand on your shoulder, pulling your attention back to his hidden face.

“you fought well.”

you blink as tears well up in your eyes, and you quickly turn your face sideways to wipe them away. when the man lets go of your shoulder, you suddenly feel a throbbing sensation burn through your arm and chest. you wince and grit your teeth, hand coming up to squeeze the wound in search of reprieve. it does not help, and when you look at your hand, it is stained with blood.

the wound makes itself known once the adrenaline subsides and you have to sit down on a nearby rock. the man does not leave your side, instead now fretting about you, if you could call it fretting. he takes your arm and rakes up your sleeve to reveal something dark spreading through your veins from the bleeding bite.

“corruption,” he says, “you have to get that purified as soon as possible.”

“yeah, well…” your tone is dripping with sarcasm as you sneer. “i’m sure the doctors have nothing to do right now.”

you search through your pouch and pull out some bandages. it’s not perfect first aid, but it will have to do. “can you and your men turn around, please? i’d like to treat myself.”

the fatui oblige and you are granted a semblance of privacy on the battlefield to take off your upper clothing and bandage your wound with trembling hands. they don’t seem to stop even now as you’re kept safe by the group of soldiers. you clench your fists in an attempt to calm them, then you get dressed again and join the rest of the group.

“what now?” you ask as you stand beside the armored man. “who are you anyway?”

“now you’ll evacuate to the stadium. it’s safe there.”

“you? you’re not coming with us?”

he shakes his head. “there are still more monsters to slay.”

“i…” your mouth opens and closes as you weigh your words. “i’m not sure i can protect these people all on my own.”

“fret not. nikita!” a huge man clad in purple armor walks up to the two of you and salutes. “pick three men. you’re staying behind to help these people get to safety.”

“yes, sir.” nikita wastes no time in fulfilling his task.

the other fatuus turns back to you. “stay safe.”

“don’t worry, i won’t let your soldiers die.”

he looks at you silently for a moment, which makes you wonder if you said something strange. but then he wordlessly walks away and his soldiers, apart from those 4 he left you, follow closely behind.

“wait, helmet guy!” you call out to him. the fatui seem to recoil in shock at the nickname but it does have the desired effect of stopping the man in his tracks.

“helmet guy..?”

“thank you! for helping us.”

the stranger nods and then disappears in the dense fog once more.

“everyone, we are gathered here to celebrate a glorious victory.”

the pyro archon stands at the center of all attention, as she always has. the tavern is packed with people, all heroes, some greater than others. a bittersweet taste of victory at the cost of many lives lingers in the air. it is in true natlanese fashion that people celebrate not with tears but with alcohol, laughter and gratitude for their sacrifice.

you sit at the very back, watching as the orange liquid in your cup swirls around. you can’t hold this way of grieving against them, and victory does have to be celebrated. but as you mull over all that has happened, you find yourself lacking any sweetness. it is only the bitterness that you feel towards everything that the abyss took from you.

you finish off this cup, order another, and make your way outside to get some fresh air. the stairs seem to sway beneath your feet but you retain your balance as if you were completely sober.

the air feels pleasantly cool against your hot cheeks when you step outside. despite the battle that took place just moments ago, it smells fresh. everything is so serene. it pisses you off.

kicking a rock along the way, you sit down at the edge of the wall, feet dangling over nothing. somewhere all the way down you hear the gentle rushing of water. cheers, then. you raise your cup. to all your dead friends, to this nation of endless struggle, and to that fucking hole in the sky your archon blew an hour ago. you take a swig, and whatever spills down your chin, you wipe away with the back of your hand.

“enjoying the night?”

of course you’re not left alone for long. a deep familiar voice comes from behind you and thankfully you’re too drunk to get spooked. a slip is all it would take for you to die, which would be comical after all the fighting you did to stay alive.

“sure!” you slur. “enjoying, yeah. you could call it that.”

the tall man appears by your side. he sits down next to you, though he leaves some space between the two of you.

“hey, helmet guy. why didn’t you tell me that you were a harbinger?” you try to make out his face underneath the helmet, but all you get is a vague outline of a face in the darkness of the night.

“i saw no reason to.”

“no reason to? your soldiers weren’t very happy about the nickname i gave you,” you grumble.

“did they give you any issues?” he asks.

you ponder for a bit, staring off into the distance. “no, actually… they were really nice. it surprised me.”

whatever comment rests on capitano’s tongue, he swallows it back. this is not the time to be snarky. he sees it in you - in your heavy shoulders, in the lack of life in your eyes, in the slight tremble in your hands that you try so hard to contain. this loss has hit you hard.

“you’re like me,” he says after a long pause.

“how so?”

“you carry the ghosts of those you cared about in your heart. you grieve with anger and sadness - that’s why you’re here alone, just like me. the others don’t give themselves time to sit with sorrow but you do, because your heart won’t allow you otherwise.”

you clutch your chest, shirt wrinkling as your fingers dig into its fabric. a deep frown forms on your face. it���s ugly. you feel ugly. bitter tears well up in your eyes. “you don’t know our culture.”

“culture or not,” he says, and suddenly you feel the weight of his hand on your head, pushing you down into a bow, “you are human. just cry if you need to.” you’re about to give him a piece of your mind when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. a group of people walks past, all laughs and words meaningless to you.

he’s hiding you.

the tears can’t be contained now. you watch them drip down into your cup of alcohol, and a sob wracks your body, the last straw that breaks the sumpter beast’s back. you set the cup aside to hide your face with your hands.

capitano remains by your side, silent as you break the night’s quiet with your cries.

“what are you doing here?”

when capitano returns to the fatui camp after his research, he is surprised to see your familiar face surrounded by his subordinates. you’re all sitting around what seems to be a pot of some kind of stew, which you pour onto a plate along something that resembles a smooth dumpling.

it’s a puzzling sight indeed.

all the soldiers freeze and stammer to explain what’s going on, however as they talk over each other not a single coherent explanation is heard.

you merely smile up at him, and capitano feels something shift underneath his rotting flesh.

“fufu?” you ask, holding out a plate.

capitano is speechless for a moment. “what?”

“fufu. that’s what this is called. do you want some, harbinger?”

you roll the word ‘harbinger’ on your tongue like it’s some sort of plaything, and… he’s not finishing that thought.

“i’ll have to politely decline. can we talk privately?”

you hand the plate over to nikita, who’s sitting next to you. he speaks up before you: “if i may, lord capitano - is y/n in trouble? we figured inviting them to our camp would be fine, but… if there’s anyone to punish, it should be me.”

capitano sighs. “we’ll talk about that later.”

you finally stand up and follow the man to a more secluded area, kicking up rocks as you go.

“why are you here? are you not scared?” capitano says at last, after a good while of unbroken silence. his tone gives away his exasperation.

you smile and a hint of exhaustion shows its face through the facade. you take a seat on one of nearby boxes. “scared of what? the man who saved my life, or his subordinates who won’t stop talking about their wives back home?”

“both. this is a fatui base. under normal circumstances, your head would be separate from your body by now.”

“i also imagine that under normal circumstances the fatui don’t support other nations in war or comfort grieving drunks.” your cheeks turn pink as you speak and pick at your nails. “what we’ve found ourselves in is pretty far from normal.”

the captain watches you, you can tell despite not having a clear view of his face. he’s studying you, and it makes you shift in your seat uncomfortably. you find yourself not hating the discomfort.

“why are you here?” he asks again.

you hold back your words at first, thinking them through before speaking them. “i just felt that it was unfair not to include your men in the celebrations. i figured a good meal could lift their spirits… as thanks. and yours, too. but they told me that you never eat, so i guess i should have thought of something else.”

“no.”

you raise an eyebrow at him quizzically, and when he turns his head to glance their way, so do you. the two of you get the perfect view of your men gushing about the food, some even fighting over a plate.

“i haven’t seen them this lively in a while. your presence is welcome.”

and you take his words to heart. the camp becomes your second home. sometimes you even sleep over. the fatui are kind, as strange as it is to say. nikita warns you that it’s only them that are this way, that the other harbingers’ forces are not so nice. you suppose it’s true - it’s not like you have any other experience. still, you bond with them - most of all with capitano.

there’s something about every conversation you have with him. he’s clearly a very intelligent man, but more importantly you feel like he understands. you take walks together whenever you can and you help him out with whatever he needs - truth be told, it’s just another excuse to be near him and to talk with him. you even like to think that he enjoys your presence as well.

you’ve caught the soldiers giggling at the two of you multiple times.

your favorite talks are the ones spent under the stars. something about the moon and the stars pulls at the strings of your soul, and neither of you can help each other from sharing your sorrows and joys.

“so you meant it back then… we both carry our own ghosts. though i suppose it is more literal in your case…”

you stand leaning against a wooden railing, watching as the sun sets over the horizon. the breeze that tousles your hair is gentle and pleasantly cool.

when capitano invited you for a walk together, you knew it would be different from the ones you usually took. he seemed more introspective, more anxious somehow. his shoulders, usually so straight and broad like nothing could topple them, looked just a tad heavier than usual.

and then he confided in you. told you that he’s khaneri’ahn, that he’s fought the abyss once before and that he feels a kind of connection to your homeland. you feel for him and for all the soldiers’ voices that he’s had to listen to the entire time. you feel his grief.

he must be so tired.

“there’s no need to pity me.”

his voice brings you back to the present, and you turn your head to face him, wide eyed. “ah… yeah. you know, not all compassion is pity, captain.”

he would usually correct you, say it’s “lord capitano” to you, but for whatever reason he doesn’t. instead he just lets out one of his ‘hmph’s.

you look back towards the horizon. “the sunset is beautiful today…”

“indeed,” capitano says, yet his eyes don’t leave your face.

“it’s hard to believe the abyss itself was here just a few days ago,” you smile, and when you look at capitano one final time, he’s suddenly much closer to you than he was before.

you freeze, gazing up into where his face should be. capitano’s hand comes up to cradle your chin and tilt your head, and for a moment you have the fleeting thought that he’s about to kiss you.

but he doesn’t. his clawed thumb traces your lips, and when he pushes down on your lower lip they part to make way for the shaky breath that escapes your lungs. he just remains quiet, eerily quiet.

“thrain,” you mumble. he suddenly sucks in a deep breath as if snapped out of a trance and lets go of your chin, stepping away from you. your own fingers trace the spot on your lip where his thumb was mere seconds ago.

“i… i apologize. something must have come over me.” capitano is panicking now, a state you’ve never seen him in before. he always gives off an air of absolute confidence, like nothing could shake him, his eyes pinned to a single goal ahead of him.

yet now you’ve captured his gaze, and it’s put a crack in his resolve.

“you should go home. while it’s not too dark.” capitano steps further back from you. “good night, y/n.” and then he turns his back on you and briskly walks away.

you find it almost comical, the way he flees from you, unable to stop yourself from chuckling. good night indeed.

but as you would find out the moment your body hits the bed, sleep eludes you for the majority of the night. by the time you manage to fall asleep, you’re wondering how he’s managed to do this for 500 years.

when you wake later in the day, you waste no time in rushing out of the house. you don’t feel hungry or thirsty, you just - want to see him. burning questions lie on your tongue. how long has he felt the same as you? would he accept you, if you were to accept him? your legs carry you all the way to the fatui camp, and your eyes light up when you find him.

but then you also spot ororon. you freeze. though he’s usually deadfaced with little emotion in his voice, he’s now looking rather panicked as he explains something to capitano. something’s going on. should you intrude..?

before you can actually do anything, however, the two of them turn to leave and you’re found out. capitano hesitates before finally making his way over to you.

“y/n,” he says. his voice is full of… something. you have a hard time identifying it. is it grief? is it want? is it everything all at once?

“what’s happening?” you ask. capitano and ororon exchange looks.

then, capitano speaks: “each of us have a part to play in this war. i think mine has come at last. to end it all, once and for all.”

“i don’t like the way you said that. where are you going, capitano?” for the first time, his helmet pisses you off. you wish you could look into his eyes, see what kind of expression he’s making.

“we don’t have much time,” ororon urges.

capitano lifts his hand and rests it on top of your head, which dips under the weight. he caresses your hair with a surprising amount of gentleness.

“i wish we could have met earlier. but now, at least you can enjoy a lifetime of peace.”

something in you cracks.

“what’s going on? is this goodbye? if you’re leaving, then let me come with you! i have nowhere else to go anyway!”

he shakes his head and lets go of you. “i’m sorry.” without saying another word, the two of them depart.

yet the promise never comes. you’re left all alone, standing in the middle of an empty camp.

“thrain!” you yell after him. he does not stop. “promise me you’ll come back to me! please!”

heavy legs carry you up the stairs of ochkanatlan. though this place is normally off-limits, when ororon finds you back in the camp and tells you that you should go there, you rush over with zero hesitation.

natlan is a tropical country. yet now as you climb these stairs, you suddenly feel chilly and your quickened breath comes out in puffs of steam. somewhere deep down, you already know. you knew when he left, and you’re even more certain now. and as you finally ascend the final step and you see him on the throne, surrounded by massive crystals of dark ice, it becomes all too real.

thrain is dead.

yet you can’t bring yourself to cry. your feet remain planted in the ground as you watch his soulless body. his chest rises and falls but you know that he’s not there, it’s just the curse controlling his undead body like a puppet.

fate must truly hate you. is it your destiny to lose everyone you’re ever loved?

at last, you approach him. everything feels so slow.

“you know, i was so happy last night that i couldn’t sleep,” you say. “because it finally seemed that i would not be alone for the rest of my life. i thought that even if you were to leave, i would gladly follow. i’m sure many of your subordinates feel a similar way.”

there comes no reply. you cast your gaze downwards.

“i can’t hold this against you. you’ve fought for so long and… you deserve this rest. but what about me?” you bite your lip to stop the delayed tears. what do you do now, knowing that he loved you?

you wipe at your eyes and sniff. then you lean forward, grasping the helmet with your bare hands. you plan on taking it off at first, but ultimately you decide against it. if he didn’t want to show you his face while he lived then that’s something you’ll have to respect even after his life.

so you kiss his helmet instead. your lips meet the cold metal as the first hot tear runs down your cheek, and you crawl into his lap. it’s okay if you rest together, right? you’re not ready to leave yet. wrapping your arms around his neck, you bury your face in his cold body.

just once, you would have liked to have been held in those arms.

[gospelica]

best friends satoru and suguru who think they're fucking you behind each other's back, but really you just can't get enough of either of them!

movie nights with the both of them when you slip into the kitchen to refill your drink and satoru follows close behind, watching from the kitchen as suguru sits engrossed in the film. satoru stands behind you, pressing against your ass until your front is nearly bent over the countertop. he whispers filthy things in your ear about how wet you are as he stuffs his fingers down your panties and swipes them through your drooling folds.

"does letting me finger fuck you with poor sugu just over there turn you on, hm?" he asks as he pushes his fingers into your wet cunt, practically in awe at just how turned on you are. "all of this for me, baby?"

you can't blame him for being oblivious, though! he was really focused on getting the snacks ready for the movie that he didn't notice you and suguru slip away to fuck in the next room! he just thought those pornographic moans from earlier were on the tv...

so when he slips your shorts down and promises he'll be quick and suguru definitely won't notice you getting fucked a few feet away, he's clueless to the fact that as he pushes his cock into you, he's plunging his best friends cum right back into your womb :((

and he fucks you so full that your legs are shaking by the time you're crawling back onto the couch and settling in between your boys. you're so tired that you could just drift off to sleep... but where's the fun in that! the blanket draped over the three of you is thick enough that neither of them notice your hands moving to their respective laps until you're slipping under their elastic waistbands and stroking their cocks in pretty unison

and they're both so sensitive, having came deep inside of you not too long ago. both biting their tongues not to moan and alert the other as your thumb swipes over their drooling tips and coating their rock hard lengths in sticky precum :(( they're both such messes, so focused on jerking upwards into your tight fists that they don't notice their best friend doing the exact same!

and when they cum they both cum loud. pretty moans synchronised with each other as you time their orgasms to match. they spill over your hands in beautiful concordance... sticky and hot and enough to leave the both of them breathless.

you get up to go and wash your hands and leave the two to explain their flushed faces to each other... :(

[fictionalmenxyn]

𝐅𝐚𝐢𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐞? 𝐍𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞

Pairing: tutor!rafe x student!reader

Replying to this ask

(Reader is 18 and Rafe is 23. Consensual. Also if your name is Lilly think of a different name for the ‘goody two shoes’ sos 😭)

Warnings: language, light degradation.

꥟꥟꥟

Once again, the clock strikes two pm. Meaning you have your final two hour class of the day. 2 till 4, simple yet challenging. It was math. Although you were a great student with great grades. Your math grades had somewhat dropped recently. Due to the lack of focus and the annoying boys or the good two shoes in your class. Along with the fact you have started to be more laid back and your humour getting to you and your friends.

So here you were. Sat towards the middle back, up by the windows. You sat on the inside part of your desk, resting your back against the wall. Your friends sat around you as the class started to slightly fill. There were about fifteen people in this class. Due to the misbehaved teens who’d skip this class knowing Rafe wasn’t one to mess with.

He sat at his desk, typing away at some emails as he waited for the class to everyone to arrive and for everyone to settle down.

You chatted and laughed with your friends. Then soon enough, Rafe had kicked the door wedge away from the door and closed it. He clasped his hands together “right everyone, focusing now!” Everyone had grown quiet. You turn a little in your seat facing the front a little more.

Rafe started to go through the basic steps of how to do probability. Easy and simple to finish off the day.

He had gotten Lilly to hand the books out. Everyone knowing, including Rafe, that she was the teachers pet. Always correcting people’s answers or calling out on bad behaviour. As he go to hand yours and your friends books she faced the front. “Mr. Cameron?? Y/n and the girls have drawn all over their books…” you and the girls shoot daggers at Lilly. It was the smallest of doodles at the bottom on the cover. Which Rafe had actually said to do if your pen had ran out or broke. Hence the continuous circles at the bottom.

Rafe waved it off “it’s fine, Lilly, just hand them their books…” he sat at his desk and leaned back a little. His polo doing justice for his lean muscular shoulders and his nicely round biceps. He was one of the few male teachers who’d work out. He was also the youngest teacher at your school. He definitely caught your eyes. And probably more girls in the school too.

You watched as his eyes would flicker over to the ‘popular’ girls in the class. For no reason at all, you felt almost, jealous?… could you even say that about your own teacher?… guess so, right?…

You had noticed how those girls, who were also in many of your other classes, would catch people’s attention. So that’s another reason you’ve become the way you have been for the past two weeks.

You did a few questions, knowing you wouldn’t be in detention for the lack of work you would’ve had. So as you do about ten questions. You turn to your friends, chatting away and quietly messing around.

Rafe would glance over the class every so often. Checking if anyone had their hands up or needed help. He then looked over to you and your friends. He saw the way you weren’t writing away as you usually would. He also noticed your lack of concentration and focus this past couple of weeks. He cleared his throat “Y/n, girls… focusing please.” He said in a soft but firm voice.

You and the girls went quiet, chuckling and giggling to yourself as you all do a few more questions then go back to what you were doing with each other. Lilly, however, must’ve had a thing against you today. She wasn’t happy. She raised her hand. Rafe looked up and nodded his head up “yeah, Lilly?” Lilly lowered her hand and replied “sir, Y/n is distracting me! I can’t focus…”

You scoffed and threw your arms up and let them drop down. Your friends rolling their eyes at Lilly. But also shocked as how she just called you out too. Even though they knew they were chatting just as much as you.

Rafe looked over to you “Y/n, I told you to focus on your work… c’mon, back to it.” You and the girls go back to working.

After three more times Lilly has specifically picked out you to complain about.

Rafe got up from his desk. Walking over to you and the girls. He had told two of your friends to split up and sit else where. The three of you being separated. Lilly had a smug yet stupid grin on her face. You glared at her and spoke “I’ll smack that stupid smile-” Rafe cut you off “don’t even finish that sentence, young lady… now..” he leaned back in the empty desk opposite you. Crossing his muscular arms. He continued “listen, you’re gonna finish your work and I’m gonna stay right here so I know you’re not causing any trouble. Get, to, it.”

You felt his eyes bore into you. You could feel his gaze. You were struggling. And not academically… he noticed that quickly. So he grinned slightly to himself. He grabbed a spear chair and sat in front of you at your desk. “Need help, sweetheart?” You looked to his eyes. Locking eyes as you nod a little. Your palms feeling slightly sweaty at the hottest teacher in your school.

He leaned closer, his legs spread under the desk due to his long legs. He reached into your pencil case and grabbed a pen. Even if he had his own pen in his pocket. He couldn’t lie when he said he’d been eyeing your pens. They looked nice to write with. A strange thing to say but it was true.

He started to talking you through it, how to probability. He’d lean closer to you as he would turn the paper so you could both see what he’d write. He’d use your stationary.

Soon enough he’d let you be, both of you slightly disappointed at the loss of closeness. But another teen in class needed his help. So he left you to it to finish in your own.

Soon enough, the bell rang. He called out “right everyone! Pack away, have a good day all…” he watched you closely as you put your pencil case into your bag and tug your backpack onto your shoulder. As you walk over to your friends. He called out “everyone’s dismissed, but Y/n! Stay behind, please” You whipped your head around “what?!”

He nodded “yes, you, stay behind..” he clicked his fingers and pointed to the desk right in front of his. You huffed and wave your friends bye as you sit on the desk.

Once everyone had left. He turned to look at you. He crossed his arms and leg one on front of the other. As he leaned his hip against his desk, he spoke “now, you and I know why I asked you to stay back.” He added “so why’re you being like this, hm?”

You crossed your leg over the other “like what?” He looked to your legs for a brief moment. Wondering what his hand would be like on them. Or his what his head would look like bet- Rafe, no, don’t start.

He reminded the setting of the moment. He spoke “like you had today, what’s with all the chatting and the lack of work getting done? Where’s that high scoring gone, hm? I’ve noticed the slight drop in your grades, sweetheart. Y’know if you keep this up I’m gonna have to call home..” you shake your head “don’t, please, it’s fine… it’s not even that bad.” He shook his head “darlin’… you went from a B to a D… and I know you do well in all of your classes so there must be something going on..”

After going back and forth, Rafe was slowly loosing his patience. God how could a pretty girl like you make him want to shout at you?… you’re to gorgeous for him to do that.

He spoke “Y/n, Y/n, darlin’… listen.. I’m not here for your bullshit excuses… I’m here to support and teach you…” you snapped back “I pay attention! I do the work! It’s fucking-” “language, sweetheart.” You huffed “I bet this is all cause of the teachers pet, Lilly..” you cross your arms. Rolling your eyes.

He had enough, you needed to be taught a lesson. And not in math either. Rafe didn’t teach naughty girls. Not at all.

He yanked your arms to uncross themselves and grabbed your jaw. He stepped closer and gently yanked your face closer to his. He spoke lowly “you listen here… I don’t give a shit about Lilly… yeah she may be a teachers pet, but that isn’t the discussion I’m trying to have here. You’re being naughty… and you know I don’t teach naughty kids. So tell me, what’s up with you?!”

You gasp softly as he had gently yanked your face closer to his. His eyes darting between your eyes and lips. His lips parted ever so slightly. Looking as hot as ever. God you didn’t expect this to turn you on so much. You feel your knees going weak and your lower stomach fluttering.

You remarked.

“I’m trying my best! Doesn’t that matter?!” He replied “Yea! I see that! But you’ve done so much more, Y/n… I know you can do more than that… I’ve seen the way you interact with people, how well you do in other lessons, the way other teachers talk highly of you… c’mon, what’s the issue? Why’re you falling back in just my lessons, eh? You were a smart girl, sweetheart… where did that go?” You mumbled “I- I thought you’d be into popular girl more…” you looked to the floor as Rafe continued to stare into your eyes. His breathing hitched ever so slightly.His eyes on you as he clicked his tongue…

꥟꥟꥟

[duck9irbl]

1

Everything is numbers. Even nothing has a number. 1 thing can change everything. Perhaps it was a moment or a memory a single action or in action of someone or something. Did or didn't do or said or didn't say. 1 out of multiple what if's.

Just like right now 1 single thought overwhelming the mind. Covered in darkness the only light in the words...

To who they belong too or who is directed at are for now unknow until we get to peck into the shadows your a monster

We see 1 man standing what looks to be 1 bed containing 2 people. The people look asleep peaceful unaware. They seem to not know the man but he knows them. I can make this quick and easy

'The chose should be easy right?' He thinks to himself. But as he looks upset from his slight frown. Yet conflicted onto what to do with the furrow of his brow and scrunched up face. From the 2 bag under his eyes you can at least tell he's tired. Again looking down.

1 sentence yet again appeared in his mind. with all of my heart and every fiber of my very being

That 1 sentence again surrounded by darkness the only light the words itself. How could numbers change everything?

1 sickness, 1 boy who escaped being the 1 survivor, 1 offer that he took, 2 brothers with 2 different paths he both took. their just kids

That 1 boy got to grow up despite- because of two brothers. That one boy becoming 1 man staring back at the two brothers. He sits their and watches over the cover of the shadows watching- like he's waiting for something to show up- rather someone. The roles revered 1 man. 2 boys. 1 sword. 1 choice he has to make. That will change everything.

1 lived 1 died. That would stay the same one would live the other would die that much was the same but the question was? Witch brother? YOU

He looks again to what he see's now are not 2 brothers fighting, 2 brothers who picked different paths to different outcomes. But right now- right now he see's 2 brothers sleeping peaceful unaware of the danger that might come. 2 children who don't know any better.

Both kids look at him seemingly awake in shock but maybe thinks is just a bad dream. He doesn't move as to not alert his brother. Their both awake but the other doesn't know that Their just kids who don't know any better

Again that same sentence pops into his mind. Growing more upset, more bitter, more painful stronger and stronger each time. It doesn't stop itself after once no it goes again and again. The same 3 words the 1 sentence repeating again and again. I HATE YOU-! Why?

Like a mantra, a silent prayer, a plea, a beg- hoping to forget. It gets so loud so overwhelming it consumes your very being. You can't hear anything else, you can't feel anything else you can't see anything else. You can't think of anything else. You just want to get rid of it. For it to get off the face of this reality to go somewhere else- anywhere else. JUST GO AWAY-! I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOU I HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOUI HATE YOU

I HATE YOU-! it'd be so easy just to kill him

He snaps out of it with a turn of the children heads the cuddle close to each other as if trying to shield each other from this bad dream- this nightmare.

Then a thought came to mind 3 simple words so similar yet so different. Just like the two brothers. Both words each have 3 in them with the same amount of letters in each, both making 1 sentence. How can something so similar be so different?

He stares at the boys hate oozing off of his in a glare yet he can't bring himself to fully do it. His eyebrows furrowing as his eyes look distant. He looks lost. His eye bags looking darker than before as his decision finally puts the full weight on him. With those 3 distant words yet he wants to remember fondly.

I love you.

I hate you. I love you.

Both words holding so much meaning. He loves 1 of the brothers his farther figure the one who not only gave him a chance in life but a chance to love again. The other brother he hates. The monster who almost made him lose sight of how things truly were.

I love you. I hate you.

I hate you.

This supposed to be the right chose... right?

His face scrunches up as his eyebrows furrow even closer together. As as he allows himself to close his eyes to calm down to rethink onto what he's going to do. What he was gonna do. What he wanted to do. With the words echoing for now one last time.

I love him.

I hate him.

The words no longer in pure darkness with light surrounding them. Yet what frames the words is darkness.

I love him. I hate him.

Time travel swapped AU

Law and his incoming mental breakdown 🙃 He hates Doflamingo with burning passion but little Cora-san clearly loves him. What now?

[hatsbuckets]

TF 141 x Reader - Shower Hide Out

Short Version: You're a member of 141. Mission's over. The boys come hide while you're taking a shower. (Hide? Hide from what?)

WC: ~1300

Pairings: (implied) TF141 x (afab) reader | teensy weensy Ghost x Soap

Warnings: none? (nudity ig, but nobody does or sees anything,) extremely brief mention of drowning. (lmk if I need to add)

A/N: my first little cod fic I'm posting! teehee. Just something cute and domestic and simple that I thought of while showering. LMAO I did this instead of writing my thesis today so plz enjoy. More like this maybe to come?

It was late and a shower was long overdue.

You were grateful to finally be at a place where you could shower. It'd been days out on a mission and the sight of the little house was like heaven on Earth. Laswell had gotten it together, and you all met her there with little ceremony, but plenty of thanks. You each made sure each of you were good and not dying before sitting in with Kate.

You always got a little protective over the boys after the high stress, near-death-experiences you go through together. And they were the same with you, and each other, in their own little ways. Sometimes you weren't sure why, but you rolled with it. Soap always made a point to talk with you, helping you and himself destress. Ghost made sure you weren’t hurt, you would do the same, then he’d say something about getting better. You and Gaz liked to eat together, making sure you were both fed. Price was quiet, bringing you tea or coffee in the later hours, but never quiet enough to avoid a bit of banter. Sometimes it was a hearty combination of them all at the same time, and sometimes it was just one or two. Whatever it was, you were grateful. 

This current mission had resulted in you and Johnny both nearly drowning to death, but you were okay, and so was he. Naturally, it left all parties a little on edge. Soap didn’t shut up the whole drive to safety, keeping spirits light while Ghost and Gaz tried to keep the two of you from freezing to death. Laswell was worried too. She insisted, in her stoic way, on getting you all safe and rested for a bit before moving forward.

This wasn't the first time you'd all holed up in a small house, and it wouldn't be the last, but it was definitely one of the quieter nights of the five of you together. Laswell and Price wasted little time before discussing and debriefing. The rest of you were hardly as interested, tired mostly, but pulled in all the same.

Finally, they let you head up to the shower first, even though Johnny was shaking from the chill of still being in damp clothes.

"Go on, lass," he had chattered. "I'll b-be just fine."

Ghost had to force another towel around him before you were satisfied.

Upstairs, you twisted the shower on, letting the heat steam as you undressed. You peeled away a still damp uniform and even damper socks. Ew.

You'd need a full body scrub down to feel better.

You stepped in, pulling the curtain closed and letting the hot water soak through your hair and warm you to the bone. It hurt a little at your toes, the way warm water does as blood rushes around you again. You started with shampoo, lathering your hair intentionally, but not in a hurry.

As you rinsed you swore you heard the door creak. Then a relaxed sigh confirmed your suspicion.

"Soap?" You guessed quietly.

The Scot hummed in response.

You didn't mind. It wouldn't be the first time he'd stood by while you showered. Though normally it was because neither of you wanted whatever intriguing discussion you were having to be interrupted. Another of those weird little, post-mission comforts. This was just him, sitting quietly, enjoying the warmth of the steamed washroom.

You heard him kick his boots off as you put conditioner in your hair. Then another sound of the door hinges. At first you thought he'd left-weirdo, just drop your boots and leave- but then you realized from a mumbling grunt that he had not left.

You heard the shuffling of movement and the quietest unidentifiable remark from Soap, and then just the sound of the water again.

"Soap?" You asked, confirming if the man was still there.

He hummed again. "Still 'ere. Got some company too."

If you had to guess, it was probably Ghost. You could imagine him plopped down on the floor at Soap's feet, leaning against the man's legs. Again, it didn't bother you as you rinsed the product from your hair. Ghost had seen you roughed up, helped patch you up enough that his presence couldn't bother you. You'd done a bit of the same for him. Those weird little comforts.

Knowing they were on the other side of the dark curtain, dirty and wet and tired, but alive settled a bit of the hammer of worry in your chest. It warmed you from the inside as much as the water on the outside.

The door hinges creaked again, announcing another arrival. You were grinning now.

"Captain scare ya off, Gaz?" Ghost teased.

There was a moment where he didn't respond. "This is just the warmest room in the house, with how much water she's using."

You laughed lightly as you lathered up. Whatever he was in here for you also didn't mind. You trusted Kyle with your life, and with the times he's seen you drunk after celebratory bar nights, you couldn't chase him off now. Those little comforts.

Before you could rinse off, the door creaked a fourth time. You thought maybe one of them had left. Maybe Kyle. But instead, you heard an unmistakable grumble.

"You moppets. Let the girl shower in peace." Price's voice was low but laced with a tease.

"And wot brings you 'ere, Captain?" Soap poked right back.

You rinsed yourself, a laugh escaping you as you thought about the four grown men occupying the small space. Little comforts. 

"What's so funny?" Ghost's voice was light, or at least as light as it could be when he wasn't too stressed.

"Are you all hiding from Kate?" You teased.

When your question was met with silence, you had your answer. Your laugh burst from you as you turned the water off. It subsided only as the chill of the air entered the isolated space as you extended your hand through the small gap between curtain and wall. There was a moment of shuffling and scrambling, then a towel landed in your hand.

"You'd be hidin' too if you were down there listening to her plans, that woman never rests," Soap's voice grumbled. It made you laugh again as you wrapped the towel around your body. You finally pulled open the curtain to the scene before you.

Like you'd guessed, Soap was seated on the toilet, boots off in the pile next to your own, his clothes still damp. Ghost was seated on the floor in front of him, still fully geared. Kyle had at least taken off his equipment in a different room, sitting on the floor against the sink counter. And Price, also still fully dressed, was leaning just inside the doorway, arms crossed over his chest.

While the other men glanced away in their respectful little ways, Soap watched as you stepped out, earning a thump on the leg from Ghost.

"What?" Soap cried. "She's'not naked!"

You laughed, stepping over Ghost and Gaz's legs as you made your way to the door. You rested your free hand on Price's shoulder and his eyes met yours.

"Surely Kate's new ideas aren't that bad," you teased.

The man shrugged, a smile crinkling his eyes. "You can go find out."

You huffed a tiny laugh. You could feel all their eyes on you now, so you made a point to linger just a moment longer. "One of you start showering; you all smell."

You headed for your own room as Soap's gripes and protests hit your ears. You understood something along the lines of “wouldn’t if you’d not taken all the water.” You smiled to yourself. They were protective, always in that weird little way of theirs after the high stress, near-death-experiences you all go through together. Shared little weird-not weird, just your own-comforts to make sure you were all alive and well. And you wouldn't have it any other way.

Thanks for reading.

[punkrockmlchael]

Imagine rockstar!eddie and popstar!reader and the media has pit these two against each other, saying how they hate each other when in reality it's not true at all. And during one of reader's concerts or a live stream someone tries to start something against Eddie and & reader is like "Hold on babygirl, we love Eddie here"

Omg, your mind. (While I agree with this I have a bit of a different take; hear me out)

No because like, imagine being in a band yourself with your closest friends, and you're touring with Corroded Coffin, opening for them. Being in the spot light means rumors flying left and right, it was inevitable. About you, your friends, Corroded Coffin, you and corroded coffin; it felt like there was always something being brought up whether it was true or not.

And you were nervous to tour with them because the media always paints Corroded Coffin to be these big mean and scary guys because, hello, they have this really heavy and deep metal sound (and they’re kinda tall, except for Gareth) but, just because they play metal music doesn't mean they themselves are these big scary guys; in fact they were the opposite.

No, Corroded Coffin are actually sweethearts. The sweetest, to be honest. They would hold doors for you, always make sure you and your bandmates are okay in the public eye; they basically took you and your bandmates under their wings because they wanted to show you the ropes and make sure you’re all living the dream as well.

And after that tour, you kept close ties with them, you were friends with them after all. And somehow you were always the closest to Eddie, he just had the biggest personality in corroded coffin, followed closely by Gareth. Grant and Jeff tended to keep to themselves, but that didn't change the fact that they too were the sweetest boys you had ever met; always always checking in on you. Random texts from Corroded Coffin’s members were something that happened daily it felt like; a meme, a video, a congratulations text on a new song or video coming out. It was always something with those boys, not that you or your friends were complaining.

Anyways, sometime after that tour you and your band were blowing up, becoming bigger and bigger; more songs, more tours, more livestreams to keep your fans up to date!

And one livestream Corroded Coffin got brought up, your band members laughing and recounting the memories of those boys and spending time with them.

Talking about how your first time in California you all went to the beach and Eddie forgot sunscreen and literally was so burnt to a crisp he couldn’t even play his guitar that night because wearing the strap hurt; he stood there and sang while Grant and Jeff did all the work. Talking about how the best part of tour was when Gareth broke his drum set and had to use your bands for a couple shows. Talking about how Jeff and Grant are actually the funniest people you would meet, like they’re always cracking jokes about something whether it be the time or not. (Literally, like remember when Eddie was burnt to a crisp and couldn’t play the guitar? Yeah; they said he looked like a singing and dancing lobster because his bright red shoulders, arms and face were on full display for everyone as he winced into every step he took. As they called it; “the Amanda Show called, they want their dancing lobster back!”)

That was just the start; the fans of Corroded Coffin themselves knew these boys were actually idiots and the funniest people to walk the earth, and you didn’t quite believe it until you witnessed it first hand. (But, come on, they’re idiots and nerds who play metal music; what’s not to love about them?!)

And suddenly while reminiscing on the good old days of tour while on livestream, your friend reads a comment about how Eddie is a dick, and how it appears that everyone’s hates him.

“I heard that Eddie is a dick, he’s such an arrogant asshole who only seems to think about himself and what will benefit him.”

And you whip your head around and look at the screen, raising an eyebrow; ready to defend your friend at any moment. “Oh, no, he's actually quite the opposite. He’s the funniest, sweetest, most caring person we’ve ever met; we love Eddie here. In fact, he actually texted me this morning congratulating us on our new single being out. He said it sounds so awesome, and he can’t wait to hear us play it live.”

Your friend nodded, agreeing with you. “He might look scary with that mullet and those tattoos but I promise you he is actually a giant teddy bear,” they said, nodding along to your words. “He’s a dork, let me tell you.”

“The biggest dork,” you giggled. “But, we love him just the same.”

[roscolate]

YEAHHHH THE GOATED COMIC IS BACK

THIS WHOLE PART WAS JUST SO COOL AND EPIC?? LIKE OH MY GOD??

ACT 1

ACT 2

ACT 3 - 1 <<< 24 / ⚡️ / ???

I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG!

At first I meant to take a tiny break to play Brothership. But then I had to start my save all over again due to it accidentally getting overwritten, and then I got a whole lotta comms at once, and then the holidays hit, and now I’m out of a job and

🤯

I just wanna draw 🥺

Besides the troubles-

Hehehehehe KP and Luigi finally see each other again. Huehuehuehue….

Tick tock, my friends. Tick tock….

Also, I DID have music in mind for this moment, but the track I like is not really available, so take the scene that has the soundtrack I wanted to link (funnily enough this scene also inspired this part of the comic)

[inchidentally]

this is such a sweet quote and Lando's said exactly the same as well <3<3

but askfgsalfg why is this proving what I've kinda been suspecting and Zak doesn't rly fit in with landoscar and has largely not had as much to do w the driver partnership as he used to

we already knew from Andrea that Lando and Oscar do their own little separate debriefs and they were so excited about getting their own door separating them from everyone where it used to be in a shared hallway (including Zak)

but the golf, the dinners and the marketing stuff is all referring to Carlos' and Daniel's eras. Oscar couldn't even be bribed to play golf, is literally famous for not wanting to do marketing/contrived PR content and not being good at it, and the only "dinner" situation after Hungary was Lando and Oscar eating fast food with other drivers and then playing board games with Alex on the flight home ?? we also know that these debrief dinners don't happen otherwise bc Oscar usually goes home to sleep or out with Lily and Lando goes out being a very single guy or gaming w Max and BanKai etc. that post race debrief finishes and those two peace OUT. and tbh the amount that they've chosen to fly together to and from things now Oscar lives in Monaco, they've taken even more of that debriefing into their own hands!

like I just get the vibe that Zak doesn't rly have the boys club anymore and Andrea being Dad to his two kids is how things are rly being managed. even down to him sometimes wanting to be the bad guy that the two kids bond over hating sometimes even tho they love Dad really. that's just not a dynamic I see Zak fitting into. (and ngl probably some of the Daniel era in particular those tensions needed to be managed between him and Zak but aaaaaanyway)

I say this as someone who fully expects Lando and Oscar to have normal teammate fights at some point where there's the strong words to the media and angry radios etc etc - the fact that they decided so early on in their relationship to do a teammate version of 'private but not secret' couple thing of keeping fans and media out of their business, both good and bad, means they're absolutely discussing and strategizing about this (bc especially after alpinegate and taking Daniel's seat, it would've been very handy and easy for them to go a bromance angle!). which as a charlos veteran and also someone who knew the Max and Lando fight would blow over faster than anyone thought it would, I'm never going to be fazed by a fight between Lando and Oscar - but I'm also just not sold on it ever getting as out of control as so many people want/expect it to. and I feel that way partly at least bc I think there's been sort of a gen z gender neutralling happened to McLaren bc of this partnership (not as much of the usual of masculine/boys being boys energy*)

but also bc there's only one big personality/celebrity instead of two. off the track, Lando and Oscar perfectly compliment each other's personalities including how their friendship is a quiet thing rather than a big media-beloved bromance so they don't have the burden of managing fan expectations and reactions about it. you can kind of parallel it with the Lando and Max fight last season bc those two are genuinely involved in each other's lives as friends and spend the most time with each other than any other driver, including Lando being a regular fixture in Max's little family - but Max doesn't do PR at all so a lot of people still don't know how close they are. so the assumption was that their fight was this massive thing and the end of their relationship but a lot of us were like pfffff this'll blow over and Penelope's uncle will be back before she could even notice.

in the same way, Lando and Oscar doing all their bonding time out of the public eye and being the only two people who truly know how they feel about each other at any time means they are the only authority anyone should listen to! when they say 'fight over' they mean fight over! when they giggle and laugh waiting for a plane together after Monza or smile in relief at each other immediately after getting out of the cars in Hungary, then that's the truth! they're choosing not to let fans and the media in on this so that fans or the media can't feel they know better and contradict them!

and that's where I think Zak is more on the outside of things too. when even Andrea is like yea these boys are talking about things before speaking to their own teams then it feels like that's a real shift away from the explosive teammate dynamics everyone keeps referring to.

*which I'm not saying is inherently bad or toxic! esp since the dynamic of it with Lando and Carlos and Daniel was of scrungly little brother and adoring loud big brother <3

[thefandomsfervent]

JayVik x Reader Personal Pigments (Part 21) - Phthalo Emerald (NSFW)

As of last chapter this is a jayvik x reader fic now. It is going to be a JayVik fic. Ft. Viktor being a quiet lover boy and JayVik smut. haven't written MLM +18 before so careful and I'm sorry in advance lol. it'll be marked by a breaker MDNI

Find my imagine that inspired it here. Previous and next chapter will be linked at the bottom.

As much as daily chapters were fun to do, not feasible with my current work schedule. It may move to 2-4 days between releases now. stay tuned and Thank you for reading <3 Sorry it took so long for this update! I was in a wedding that I had to travel for and also holiday burnout. But I'm back with a vengeance.

╔═*✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧-✦-✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧*═╗

It had been a good morning for Viktor, he had awoken rested. Warm. Wrapped in Jayce's arms. This became a more familiar feeling. What was once ephemeral memories of rarely shared naps had turned into cuddling in bed together, warm broad hands rubbing into his legs and back. Jayce cologne settled into his pillows weeks ago. Cold mornings alone now were warm and slow starts to the day. Fleeting kisses and soft touches, drapes of cloth and linen. This morning was like all the others, and there was nothing that either of them would change about it. Aside from you. 

Time had continued to pass as it always did, and their patience began to wane. Admittedly it was Viktor’s own that seemed to dwindle. Jayce seemed content with just having him for now. That didn’t stop Jayce from joining in on the teasing. Now he had both of you in this lab. His golden darling, and you. Who was not his just yet. But he could want you to be. And for now that was enough. Because he saw how you were watching him and Jayce. He saw your lingering glances. Your weighted gaze on where their hands held each other. Something that lit a fire in himself and in Jayce. It resulted in some... testing this morning.  Gauging your reaction to their actions and eyes.  Seeing how beautifully red you could get just from their gentle teasing. It made some primitive part of him imagine what more hands on approaches could do to you. Discussions that he and Jayce indulged in when the wine gifted from Mel would find itself in their glasses. 

That would come later, much later if it needed to. Today all they had were words and time. That shyness that swept across your face when you heard him call Jayce, Zlato. A pink gone crimson when you heard your own endearment. If you had asked why Viktor would have gladly answered. Even if he preferred to keep such close sentiments to himself, he knew your love for imagery. He knew that if he told you why he had picked those words that you would have been putty in his palm. Zlato and Broučku each had their own meanings that he had chosen to share and that he chose to keep private. 

Zlato meant darling, but it also directly translated to gold. Jayce Talis was golden to him. His tan, his energy. Where you drew him as the sun personified, Viktor thought of him as starlight. As a continuous pulsing of energy that ebbed and flowed, lighting the night sky on Viktor’s late nights. Something to look for, to be excited to see. To watch glow and twinkle. That smile so bright as if he was lit from within. Stars he didn't always get to see back in Zaun. The smoke from Zaun and light pollution from Piltover sometimes blocked out those celestial lights. But Jayce was like that to him. Moving and changing, part of history in a way that not everyone quite understood. A gold dusting across space and time. Like gold, he was soft and malleable. Like gold, he was still strong and desired. Like gold, he shone in the sun. Like gold, he deserved to be taken care of. Like gold, Viktor wanted to wear him on his skin. 

And you? There was brouček, which was cuter. Little beetle. But broučku fit you better, he thought. When he imagined you, your always working hands, there was a buzzing behind his neck. Deep and thrumming in his ears. You had wormed your way into his lab. His life. His heart. Had burrowed under his skin. An iridescent sheen in his mind when he thought of you. Something that had truly hit him that morning after you had mixed your paints in the lab. As a scientist he understood your explanation and preference for correct terminology. But your laugh warmed his chest and soothed the mental aches being in the lab brought him. He couldn't help himself. Especially after your note where you kept the silly name, had crossed out your own words just to call back to his misnomer. 

You had become embedded in him without him realizing. Despite there being the closeness that he and Jayce had shared he was certain that you were a part of him. A kind of stability that your presence had offered that he took comfort in. Regardless of if you became entwined in the romance he and Jayce shared, he knew that you would be a sweet constant. 

Viktor sees your mind processing the nicknames, sees how your cheeks are impossibly ruddy, sees the way you fidget with your hands. You had laughed and relaxed. Still, whatever limits you had it seemed that they were about to hit them, so he taps Jayce’s hand and gestures to their table. A silent “Let us work now.” When Jayce turns around he is barely hiding all the affection Viktor knows he holds. It pours from that smile, gleaming in those happy hazel eyes. And it fills Viktor’s chest with his own. He can hear the tense breath you let loose when they both face their table. He can only imagine how your shoulders must relax without their focus on you. Can not help the last look he gives you. His eyes are catching yours. Your own watering from laughter. Viktor almost speaks. But you smile at him and any words catch in his throat. So he offers his own and gets back to work. The soothing sounds of all three of you working plays in the background. 

As the day continues like normal there is a burning that had settled in him. There was a tenderness in today’s teasing, yes. But something in Viktor had been awoken by all that blushing of yours. It means that when you call it an early night he only waits until the door shuts to tug on Jayce’s tie. His golden partner was looking over his shoulder at calculations. Jayce says nothing at the action, simply waits. Having been victim to Viktor’s teasing in almost all its forms he knew better than to react too quickly now. 

“Perhaps we should call it a night too.” is all Jayce needs to hear to lean into Viktor’s back. Eyes closing when he feels Viktor rise to stand. There’s no straightening of notes before they leave. Just a silent walk back to their rooms. Lately they had spent most nights in Viktor’s room, the mattress more comfortable on his leg. Tonight they stop at Jayce’s door. 

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

Jayce sat on the bed patiently,  his hand loosely fidgeting with the sheets as Viktor undresses. Jayce himself had already made it down to just his boxers, straining in the fabric just watching. An inaudible hitch in his throat when he sees how Viktor had loosened his tie. Two moles on the right side of his neck unveiling as the collar dipped open. Jayce can feel his own gaze travel down to those beautifully long fingers deftly working at buttons. Watching with a growing hunger. They had been so gentle and teasing this whole time they'd been together.  More so before their talk to make it more. But tonight was different. And so he didn't want to forget a moment. He would catalogue it deep within his brain. Would make sure to remember every little thing he did right. Remember every movement Viktor made. A clearing throat pulls his gaze up. 

Viktor’s small smug smile greeting him. Flushed cheeks. It's all he can do to not pull him down onto that bed right away. To kiss up and down every inch of the man before him. Instead, Jayce opens his arms wide. Asking. Pleading with his eyes, leaning forward without thinking. He tries to ignore the thumping of his heart. Jayce Talis was a lover. He was a man that had been with men and women, needed affection and to give it. Craved it. And with his partner here in his room that one simple fact about himself did not change. Only became exemplified. As soon as Viktor stepped between Jayce’s legs he could feel those tan arms wrap around his back. Feel them slide under the loose button up. Thick fingers splayed along his lower spine. He could feel Jayce’s lips trailing soft kisses, loving and slow up and down his stomach. The press of Jayce’s nose into his abdomen. Viktor wrapped his own arms around Jayce. He trailed his hands until they met with the nape of Jayce's neck. And how could he not chuckle at the sigh he heard in response? At the puff of air he felt in his skin as Jayce leaned into his touch and looked up through loving hazel eyes?

Jayce tries to stay focused, tries to not let the night become a blur of bodies and sensations. Leans into every kiss, committed to every action that has a taste and sound. Everytime his hands wander too low Viktor’s hands pull them away and up. When Viktor himself is only in his boxers he’s sitting in Jayce’s lap. Hands holding Jayce’s above his head, whispering about patience and behavior. Words that he wishes he could focus on. All he knows is that Viktor tastes like coffee today. Like home. Cold hands on his hot skin. Hips moving deep and slow, brushing against each other. 

Viktor isn’t sure how long he’s kept Jayce at this point before he settles further down the bed. Trailing fingers over where Jayce has made a mess in his underwear. Reveling in the gasps Jayce can’t hide. In the way he twitches beneath the wet fabric. It’s deliciously pathetic. Makes him hungry. Lightheaded. When he fully presses his palm down Jayce curses, trying to stay still. A task quickly abandoned as Viktor continues to tease, until he’s panting and whining. 

“Do you need more or could you finish like this?” Viktor’s voice is soft and admiring. A tone that is heavy with demand yet still asking. Jayce only nods, eyes barely open enough to see what Viktor’s doing. Crawling up for messy kisses and that hand never stops. “Vik I can’t, I’ll-” It takes an ear nip and a few well timed praises. A groan that rumbles deep in his chest, loud enough that Viktor can feel it in his own as a wet flood pulses through the fabric of Jayce’s boxers. He keeps moving, focusing on getting every last bit until he hears a whine. 

"Can't wait anymore, let me touch you. Please. Let me make you feel good. " His voice is hoarse. Emotion that could be lust or love. It’s both but that didn't matter as his lips met skin and hands fumbled with the waistband of his underwear. "Wanna taste you. Can I?" Viktor just looked at him. A ring of amber barely visible around the blown pupils. Finally Jayce could feel that sense of pride. Drinking in every second of those mole and freckle covered shoulders heaving up and down.  Loving every minute that he could be touching his partner. "Please V."

Viktor wants to deny him but impatient stuttering hips betray his resolve.  He lifts them and nods, not trusting the voice rising in his throat to stay steady. Not when Jayce looks at him like that. Pouty kiss bitten lips parted to show that endearing tooth gap. He had no time to take in the cool air he’s suddenly exposed to. Jayce’s hands are already on him, pumping his length. All their heavy petting and grinding meant that it didn't take much to get him fully hard. So Jayce wastes no time in pushing him down, leaning forward on his knees. The pillows by his feet getting kicked off the bed as he settles and puts his mouth on Viktor. The hot muscle moving to make room and properly cradle the underside on each slow pass. Viktor could hide his first groan, but not the second. 

Seeing Jayce’s brows furrowed together in concentration, those short thick lashes resting on the swell of Jayce’s cheeks. Especially not when Jayce hums as if he's content to be here of all places. Viktor can feel the back of his partners throat, kissing the head as Jayce tries to swallow around him.  It's too much, too far and he wants to pull away. But Jayce is lifting Viktor’s hips. Pressing himself impossibly close, nose brushing against that patch of hair, taking in shaky breaths. His orgasm is fast. Too fast. Viktor can't warn him, all he can do is let his head lean back as he spasms. He can feel his leg twitch, a heel dogging into Jayce’s back, he can feel himself twitching as he cums. The wet heat of Jayce’s mouth staying there the whole time, slowing down his movements to draw it out as long as possible. When he finally pulls off Viktor is barely there. That bliss of another person warming his whole body. He can barely register the kisses on his inner thigh, just when they stop and he feels Jayce lay his head on a bony hip. Jayce hums when he feels Viktor's hands in his hair. A few strands stuck to his forehead, just getting his breathing together and they both relax. 

“Again?” Viktor can feel Jayce pushing into his hand, head tilting to look up at him. Face so open and vulnerable, and absolutely drunk on the feeling of being there with each other. 

“Incorrigible.” It doesn’t stop him from tightening the grip of his fingers in those dark brown locks. 

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--.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙-Part 20-.-Next Part will be linked here.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .--

------------‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊ ♡ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙· Master Fic List *̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ °̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥ ♡ ‧̍̊·̊‧̥°̩̥˚̩̩̥͙°̩̥‧̥·̊‧̍̊--------------

[bohemianblasphemy]

Never again.

Dean Winchester x fem!reader

A close call whilst on a hunt with the Winchesters causes a heated argument between you and the eldest brother, allowing for feelings that were squashed deep down to be bubbled up to the surface.

Contains: death mention, killing vampires, reader being choked out, canon violence, heated argument, smut, P in V sex, oral (F receiving), the knee thing, tiddy sucking, fluffy at the end ✨

A/N: I hope you enjoy! Requests are open as always xxx

It was supposed to be a simple hunt- a cluster of vampires, nothing that hadn’t been dealt with before. Hunting wasn’t something that was new or unusual for you - however you weren’t as experienced as the brothers.

Your inexperience posed as a risk in hunts, a slip up could cost you more than you bargained for and in this instance, that’s what happened.

The case blipped on Sam’s radar and thought it was a case worth solving, only being a couple of hours away from the motel you were staying at. You were called into the brother’s shared room from your seperate one, getting a run down of the creatures at hand.

“Get this- at least a dozen cows were drained of blood on this farm, but also the farmer was found in his barn with those same bite marks, drunk dry as well. Not the first time this has happened here too.” Dean grimaced at Sam’s words, audibly groaning as the images of cows invaded his brain.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his expense. “Can’t handle some dead cows now, Dean? After literally everything else you’ve ever seen?” You teased, earning a playful glare from him. “Shut up, it’s gross.” He chuckled, stealing a glance at you from across the room, admiring the way your eyes crinkled as you laughed.

Dean and yourself had this… something. Longing glances, casual brushes against each other- hugs that seemed to last a little longer than normal. Nothing was ever said or done, but there was always something there.

Sam continued, clearing his throat as he watched you two do… whatever it was that you were doing. “I think we should get in there and y’know, deal with the problem.”

In agreement, you all set out to investigate- piling into the impala for the few hour trip out west. In that time together; Sam and Dean in the passenger and drivers seat, you in the back.

Dean stole glances at you in the rear view mirror as he drove. He smiled to himself, your presence being a ray of light in his soul.

Sam smiled, eyeing his brother’s expression before clearing his throat, which he more than often did when Dean was distracted. Dean could see Sam’s mischievous smirk as he was caught staring, warranting a warning glance to not mention it to you.

Finding the hideout of these vampires was a little too easy- small town with abandoned buildings, it wasn’t hard to narrow down.

“Alright Lost Boys, cmon out.” You muttered, wondering around the secluded Cabin in the woods, the rotted floorboards creaking under you as you and the winchesters snuck around the space.

Dean smirked at your comment. “Yeah, Count Orlok better get his ass out here.” He whispered, earning snicker from you. “Guys, seriously? Not the time…” Sam was on edge, his sense heightened as your trio snuck through the building like the Scooby gang.

It wasn’t long before your presence was made known to the blood suckers; ambushing you as you descended into the dank cellar below the rotted building.

You were outnumbered- five vampires to your three. It wasn’t going to be easy, but you posed an even chance of eliminating them. Hatchets, vamponite- you name it. If it killed vampires, you had it on you.

Three were down, two more to go- you having killed Vamp number three. Sam had his hands on one, Dean was backed into a corner by the other. The being baring its ugly teeth as he attempted to bite into deans flesh- you could see a glint of fear in his eyes as he tried to hold the creature back with his bare hands.

The panic inside your body settled in, without hesitation you had lunged yourself at the vampire to throw it off balance, weapon at the ready- giving Dean enough time to move.

It was then as the creature turned around and dodged the swing of your machete, taking the opportunity of your moment of weakness as you recovered from the swing to grab you by the throat, pressing your body against the hard surface of the concrete flooring.

The deafening screech of the disgraceful creature rang in your ear. Its grip on your throat constricted your airways, watching you squirm and try to release yourself from its strength but it was no use.

Your breaths began to falter, vision becoming blurry - furthering your consciousness into the darkness of oblivion. The echoes of Dean yelling of your name and his frantic footsteps toward you were the last things you could hear, before everything faded to black.

Dean scrambled to inject the vampire with Vamponite, the creature perishing as the elixir spread through its body, throwing the corpse off of you.

“Sweetheart- fuck, can you hear me?” Dean mumbled shakily, his palms shaking as he stroke your face. Sam bent down at your side, shaking your shoulder gently and calling your name. Dean took a shallow breath as he pressed his fingers to the side of your neck, checking your pulse.

He felt that soft throb in your veins, a jagged sigh of relief fell from his lips.

“She’s still here.” he choked out softly, before he cleaned his throat and sniffled hard, reeling back those tears that threatened to fall.

He was relieved that you were alive, God knows what he’d do if you had slipped through his fingers like that- but he was livid.

He didn’t want you doing something like that, something he’d consider so idiotic- putting your damn life on the line for him.

It was a deafeningly quiet drive back to the motel, the brothers dragging you out of the damned den of vampire corpses. You were laid out in the back seat, Dean cradling your head in his lap and petting your hair as Sam drove the impala.

Deans eyes never left your face, the flurry of emotions that rattled his head never faltered, monitoring you on the journey back to the dingy motel.

It was a good few hours after arriving back that you awoke, your eyes adjusting to the soft orange glow of the side lamp that lit the bland room. A dull pain came over your body as you slowly sat up, a soft groan escaping your mouth.

That quiet sound alerted Dean awake, who was sitting at your bedside in an arm chair to monitor you- but his own exhaustion; a mixture of physical and emotional stress had taken over.

He looked over you, seeing the discolouration on your neck where the vampire had you made his heart tighten- but remembering the act of putting yourself on the line for him made his anger and frustration bubble up inside him again; his brows furrowed, those green eyes darkening and those perfect lips turned down in a scowl.

“Why the fuck did you do that?” His tone could’ve stopped time itself. Those words that came out of his mouth was a shock to your freshly awakened system, taking a minute to process them.

“I wasn’t going to let it kill you, Dean.” You replied quietly, looking at him as you swung your legs off the side of the bed slowly.

“how could you be so- so reckless?! I had it under control, I had Vamponite- I needed it to get close to me to kill the sonuvabitch.” His nostrils flared, his stare was on you as he watched you attempt to get up out of the squeaky bed, causing him to stand up as well.

“I-it- it got me at a weak moment and-” You argued back before he cut you off.

“No. That’s not the point, you made yourself bait for fucks sake- you put yourself in danger. That was stupid, so fucking reckless.” His voice raised in volume, standing up and facing you.

“I saved your ass Dean. hell it was a massive risk but I took that chance. I’m alive, Sam’s alive- you’re alive.” You rasped.

“Listen to me DAMMIT!” He growled. “God stop acting so feckless about this! You could have DIED.” He was fuming, if it was humanly possible, steam would be coming out of his ears.

Your face changed into a scowl of frustration at his tone, stepping closer to him. “I couldn’t stand and watch it happen, I couldn’t not do anything! I will not watch you die, Winchester.”

“You don’t get to decide to be some damn sacrificial lamb. You- you can’t just do that to me-“ his words got caught in throat like a lump, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath in through his nose. “I couldn’t live with that, not without- without you.”

As his eyes opened again, he saw the softened glance that you gave him- the look in your eyes that had a glimpse at the softer side that he tried so hard to keep locked away.

“Dean-“ He shushed you softly, bringing his palms to your jaw- the touch sending a shock down your spine, closing your eyes at the somewhat soothing touch as your lips parted to release a soft breath.

“No, no. Look at me. Please…” Deans voice was softer now, his tone almost… pleading, looking for your pupils.

His instruction was promptly followed as you opened your eyes, the tension between the two of you thickening in that very little space between you two.

“You can’t just throw away your life like that, not for me. Not for anyone.” He muttered, his voice was full of emotion, the hardened walls that preserved this side of him starting to crumble.

His thumbs that were on your cheeks started to stroke the soft skin, more so to comfort and ground himself than anything as he pressed his forehead against yours.

“You scared me, really scared me.” He breathed. “Please promise me, don’t do that again. I’ve lost too much already… it would be the end of me if you were gone.”

“I need you sweetheart, more than you know.”

Deans words struck in your soul, knocking the wind out of you. All you could muster was a longing gaze, a slight brush of the tip of your nose against his.

After a few moments, you piped up.

“I need you too Dean, so much…”

That sentence alone let dean release a breath, the hot air splaying against your lips.

“I-is this real?” You whispered, smiling softly at him.

“As real as it gets, sweetheart.” He grumbled, his thumb moving from your cheek to your bottom lip, lightly grazing across it- his green eyes looking between yours and your lips.

“Can I?” Dean purred, pulling your lip down playfully - making your body shiver once more under his touch.

“Please…”

No further hesitation was necessary, pressing his full lips to yours - savouring the warm and gentle sensation.

Deans arms snaked around you, one around the middle of your back and the other creeping up between your shoulders to cradle the back of your neck- backing you up to the bed cautiously before your legs hit the frame, slowly lowering you down amongst the worn in mattress as the springs squeaked underneath you both.

He made sure you lay back comfortably, gazing down at you from above. “So beautiful…” he whispered with his signature smile before leaning down to capture your lips again as he settled on top of you.

Deans knee crept up between your thighs, pressing up against your clothed core. A soft sigh vibrated off your lips to his as you began to move your hips against his knee, relieving some of the arousal that was pooling inside of you. “Yeah sweetheart… grind on it baby, take what you want from me.” Deans voice was low and gruff, laced thickly with want.

You moaned his name, it falling deliciously onto his ears. “God I could get used to hearing that.”

Fingers reached the hem of your t-shirt, slowly raising it to slip off your torso to expose your warm skin to him. Dean took a moment to admire you again, glowing with adoration for you. You suddenly sat up, reaching around to unhook your bra- struggling to undo it. “Dammit…” you had muttered before deans hands moved behind you, unhooking it for you. “I’ve got you…” he smirked.

His index fingers hooked under your straps, pulling the material away as your breasts fell. Dean couldn’t help the breathy moan erupting from his throat, slowly pushing you onto your back.

His lips attached to your neck, breathing in the faint smell of your perfume and natural scent- an addicting feeling that made his eyes roll into the back of his head. They trailed down your collarbone, toward your chest.

His face was level with your chest, hot breath fanning over one of your breasts as he pulled your nipple into his mouth. “O-oh- Dean…” you gasped, feeling his tongue swirl around the now hardened nub. “so good baby…” he struggled to say, his mouth occupied with your nipple.

Dean repeated the same along your other tit, relishing in the sounds of your moans as you continued to move your core along his jean cladded knee. “Wanna taste you… please baby.” He asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

God, he sounded so desperate… so needy- you couldnt help but whimper. “Y-yes, I want it…”

The kisses along your torso never ceased, his fingers moving lower to work on untying your sweatpants and tugging them down your thighs. He reluctantly removed his lips from your skin as he sat up to remove the last few garments on you, throwing your pants and underwear to the ground in the corner of the room.

Scooting down, Dean settled between your legs- his large hands gripping on the outside of your thighs. “So pretty baby… all f’me.” Soon his lips met your skin again as he left wet open mouthed kisses along your inner thighs- his eyes never once leaving yours as he reached the apex of your thigh.

There was no resisting some teasing, his tongue barely touch the skin around your pussy, making your hips buck and try to chase after it.

“Please, don’t tease me Dean, I want to feel your mouth on me…” you whined, his lips just a breath away from where you wanted him most.

“Since you asked so nicely…”

He never thought he would experience heaven, but the taste between your thighs would’ve been what he’d consider close to it. The tip of his tongue circled around the tender nub of your cunt, dragging it down to prod at your sopping entrance- manipulating your sinful sounds to fill the room.

Your hands reached to find his hair, tugging at his short brown locks. “you feel so fucking good…” you praised as you pulled at his hair, earning a moan of satisfaction from him. “Do that again, pull my fucking hair…” he groaned, his tongue continuing its assault on you.

It was overwhelming, the knot in your hips was beginning to unfurl as your orgasm started to wash over you- a final call of his name as your fingers tightened their grip on his hair as your pelvis rolled back into deans actions against you.

He groaned as he continued to lap at you, greedily taking every last bit of your wetness on his tongue. “So sweet…” he praised, placing one last kiss to your core.

“D-Dean, I want you- I need you to fuck me, please…” you whimpered. A wolfish smirk appeared on deans face as he stood up, whipping off his Led Zeppelin shirt in one swift motion before working on his belt buckle.

You sat back and enjoyed the view of his stripping off, seeing his soft tummy and broad shoulders, the anti possession tattoo on his collar… it was as if he was created by the gods himself. The time came where he stripped himself of his jeans and boxers, his cock springing free of all restraint.

“Like what you see, sweetheart?” His voice laced with a cocky tone, crawling back onto the bed to resume his position on top of you.

“I’d be an idiot if I didn’t like it…” you replied, giggling softly as you pulled him in for a deep, slightly sloppy kiss.

Dean moved to position himself at your entrance, the tip of his cock sliding along you teasingly- the both of you letting out soft breathy moans into your mouths, before he couldn’t take it anymore- he had to feel you, to fuck you, make you his…

“Oh fuck- yes-“ Dean gasped, his cock pressing inside of you- the feel of your nails digging into his back making the sensation all the more euphoric. His hips started to move slowly against yours, coaxing more of those delicious moans he longed to hear from you.

“Dean!” You were loud, the sounds of your moans, deans grunts and the squeaking mattress springs filled the room- leaving no room for doubt of getting complaints from the neighbouring residents in the other motel rooms.

“God sweetheart, you’re so- so good, so good for me.” He groaned as he felt your thighs wrap around his hips, his cock pushing deeper inside you now, the pace of his thrusts becoming stronger.

He watched as you writhed below him, as your expressions contorted in its pleasured state- taking one of his thumbs to circle around your clit, heightening your pleasure as your back arched. “Fuck! Yes, don’t stop-“ you pleaded, your nails digging harder into his shoulder blades.

The way you looked and sounded to him brought him closer, the thrusts becoming sloppy as he near reached his peak, his fingers still working along your clit. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum-“ he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his head falling forward into your neck as he came, his thick hot cum coating your delicate walls.

Your breathing was sharp and fast as another orgasm fell over you, your thighs quivering in ecstasy and exhaustion.

Dean pulled his head from your neck, kissing you tenderly. “You have no idea… how long I’ve wanted to do that.” He whispered, rubbing his nose along yours. “Could say the same with you…” that comment made him smile widely, pecking your lips once more before pulling out of you, lying down to curl into your side.

It was silent for a good while, the jagged breathing between you both as you came down from your highs being the only sound breaking the silence. It was comfortable, blissful even- just being in each other’s arms after such intimacy.

“Promise me something?” Dean spoke quietly, placing a soft kiss on your neck as he buried his face into it.

“Yeah?” You ran your fingers through his hair, holding him close to you.

“Don’t ever put yourself in danger again… please.” His tone was soft but serious, his hand reaching out to hold your free palm.

“And not get railed like that again? Damn i might have to think about it.” you teased him, massaging his scalp as he gave a sleepy chuckle.

“No need to get hurt again for that, just gotta ask me and I’m at your beck and call. You’re mine now after all.”

“Oh I’m yours now huh?” You giggled, the laughing being cut off by Dean sucking on your neck, a low mewl escaping your lips.

He smirked against your neck, pulling away to admire the growing red love bite that formed against your skin.

“Yeah, you’re mine now sweetheart, can’t get away from me now.”

Tags <3: @bluemerakis

[zarvasace]

Pathfinder Chain 2.0

Masterpost

In which the LU boys are interpreted as having lived their lives and adventures in Golarion, as seen in Pathfinder 2e. Post/Mid-Godsrain. Will include art (mostly for character designs) and fic (specifically Febuwhump 2025.)

For some context in case you are unaware: Pathfinder is similar to Dungeons & Dragons, in which characters have numbers and you roll dice. It is generally played with a group of people each with their own character, but here I'm giving them all the numbers and using them as a basis for fic. It is a high-magic setting built on a foundation of Tolkien-inspired fantasy.

First appearance: Jan 8, 2025

Tag: #pathfinder chain (old designs use this tag, as well)

Previous Pathfinder Chain post, with old art.

This post will update as we go. I don't have all the art done yet but plan to before February. I'm working on formulating some sort of framing device and backstories so I'm able to fill as many Febuwhump prompts with this AU as possible—and perhaps some other ideas, depending on how this goes!

My previous Pathfinder Chain was made attempting to model the existing characters in the game as closely as possible, so we saw a lot of rangers and fighters and really only the one spellcaster (two, if we're counting Shadow.) These new character sheets have a different philosophy in mind, one that attempts to put the characters in the existing Pathfinder world and mesh their stories and gods with the lore. By that logic, there are more spellcasters, and I'm attempting to exaggerate the high-magic kitchen-sink god-bothered fantasy feel with these designs and stories. I'm very happy with them so far!! I'm planning to talk about the designs here, mostly, and reveal story details in fics.

In the update from 1.0 to 2.0, some of my decisions about ancestry and class changed, but plenty stayed the same. I've actually created character sheets this time, however, so I'm very excited to talk at length about those. :) For anyone interested in learning more about my choices, asks are open, and so is 2e.aonprd.com, the free, licensed online database of Pathfinder rules. I’m using Free Archetype and they’re all level 5.

Without further ado, may I happily present my second-version Pathfinder Chain, to be updated as I complete details and show you all the art that I'm working on!—

Four

Hyrule (art complete)

Legend

Sky (art complete)

Time - human changeling, feybound, warrior muse bard, chronoskimmer

Twilight - awakened wolf, farmhand, untamed order druid, curse maelstrom

Warriors

Wild - human duskwalker, amnesiac, dragon instinct barbarian, wandering chef

Wind

All boys have been statted, and the ones marked "(art complete)" are likely to come out sooner, as time and inspiration allows.

[gallavichthoughts]

Shut up and kiss me.

Summary: Mickey is a jealous fucker. First kiss. Sort of piggy backing off of the show, mostly made up.

___

Mickey was torn.

He didn't want to seem like a little bitch, or like he was too attached to the boy he'd been sleeping with for almost three months now, not even including his stint in juvie. He was, was the thing. If he wasn't so afraid of being with someone, and mostly of his father, he probably would've handcuffed himself to him and stayed with him constantly.

That was a scary thought.

Ian Gallagher came into his life like a hurricane. All red headed and freckles, high cheekbones and a silly grin and a laugh that had his head spinning and his world turning upside down with want. He would've said he was annoying. Would've told anyone that he hated him, that he wanted to beat the shit out of him every time they saw each other. It would be a lie.

The first day it happened, it was an accident. A total, complete accident that Mickey still relives when he's especially horny and thinking of the other times couldn't quite get him there. That first time was special. One second he was about to beat him with a tire iron that the red headed boy brought to defend himself and the next he had was stripping his clothes off himself. He made the first move. He wanted to do it. And when it was all over, Ian had tried to kiss him, Mickey had warned him that he'd lose his tongue.

If you'd asked Mickey, that was his first mistake. Letting himself give in to temptation that he'd felt towards this boy since his sister claimed to be dating him was a massive terrible mistake. Because now he felt things he couldn't fucking afford to feel.

He wouldn't change it. Even if he could. That was the scariest part.

Now, he's torn between ripping the guy that's flirting with Ian's head off, or laying claim right now. He ended up doing neither one.

Mickey eyed the young guy at the register of the Kash 'N Grab. He was leaned in close to Ian, too close for Mickey's comfort if he did say so himself. Ian had gotten him a job as security of the store not long after the owner had fucking shot him over a candy bar. For some reason, the wife of that guy had decided that Mickey could really help them keep thieving down after Ian had proposed the idea.

Mickey stepped a little closer with his fists balled up. "So tonight at 7? At the diner? I'll meet you there?" The guy had asked his redheaded, even if that wasn't even really the case, "Yeah. Yeah, I'll be there!"

No, this wouldn't do. Ian was going out with someone tonight, because Mickey was emotionally unavailable. He really couldn't have that. He'd been pining after this boy for so long, has had him pounding into him more times than he could count at this point, and the thought of someone else having that had Mickeys head all fucked up.

Once the man had left, Ian had met Mickey's eyes with a raised eyebrow at the look on his face.

Anger. Annoyance. Jealousy. Rage. Mickey had to look away before all of those feelings boiled over and he said or did something stupid.

"You gonna go out with that queer?" Mickey had asked conversationally as he scanned his eyes over the bags of chips as if they were the most interesting thing in the world.

"Yeah. I'm going out with him again." Ian sipped a beer that he had gotten from the coolers in the store and looked down at the magazine he had been flipping through. Peoples Magazine. How Mickey never noticed he was gay before the tire iron incident, he'd never fucking know.

"Again?" Mickey asked incredulously, "As in. Another time? As in, you've been out with him before?" Mickey couldn't believe how heavy the pit of his stomach suddenly felt.

"Three times now. This will be the fourth. He's nice." Ian couldn't seem less bothered. He was though, Mickey knew him better than that. There was a reason he was seeing someone else all of a sudden. Before, he'd beg Mickey for scraps of affection. Attention. Mickey never gave him what he asked for. He'd bend over for him, he'd suck his cock, but he didn't do hugs. Or kissing. Or even holding hands. He did hot, quick and dirty and that was it. Ian was never that type of guy, they'd had that conversation many times before. How much Ian had wanted more and Mickey had made him leave every single time. Mickey's head snapped up at his words and they were staring into each other's eyes again.

"What do you even see in that fucking loser, anyway?"

Ian finally set the magazine down in a harsh gesture. He couldn't have this conversation sitting down, so he stood and began walking towards the coolers to do a random, not at all time yet, inventory check. He'd fidget and give this all away. Mickey knew him too well for this, as weird as that sounds. They get each other. They'd actually become pretty decent friends over the course of their arrangement. Mickey knew it was becoming not enough for Ian though. He could tell in his eyes every time they were putting clothes on. He could practically see the words 'kiss me' going through Ian's head when it was time for him to leave.

He never did.

Mickey walked towards them as well and stepped right in front of Ian so he had to look at him again. He didn't want him to be able to run from talking about this. Which was foreign for Mickey to be on that end of things.

"Fuck. I don't know, Mick. He's nice to me. He takes me out. He buys me things that make him think of me, he doesn't leave directly after sex," he trailed off, "He isn't afraid to kiss me."

And there it is. The words he knew had been coming, but wished they wouldn't. The sharp stab of something resembling guilt crept up his body and into his chest.

Mickey didn't respond for a long time. They let the words settle in the air but their eye contact never dissipated.

"So, what? You're looking for prince charming, Red?" Mickey snorted but the sound of his voice surprised even himself. He sounded agitated, but he also sounded sad. That wasn't good. That was weak, and now Ian's heard it.

"No, Mick. I'm not looking for a prince. I'm looking for someone who wants me. Not my dick."

And there goes Mickey's heart breaking again.

__

Mickey was laying on his couch watching the clock. Seven was coming up soon, and he just couldn't sit here and let Ian go on a fourth date, he'd decided. Sure, the knowledge that Ian had fucked this dickhead already was fucking with his mind, but it was Mickey's own issues that had them able to see other people. He knew this was his fault. He knew he had to fix it.

He knew Ian felt something for him. He could see it in the way the younger boy looked at him. His eyes lit up, his smile was almost permanent. He was a little fidgety every time, almost like he was nervous. Sometimes, he looked like he wanted to reach out and touch, but knew that he risked a punch to his face. Mickey could throw up at the thought of Ian seeing him in that light.

He shrugged on his jacket to fight off the biting cold of Chicago and his shoes at exactly 6:45. It would take him seven minutes to get there, but he wanted to make sure he was there before Ian was. Before Mr. Leather Jacket and Skinny Jeans showed up with his redhead on his arm. Mickey knew how this was going to go, and he felt almost bad for the dude with Ian. Almost.

When they walked in the door, the first thing he noticed was that Ian looked gorgeous. Light wash jeans that hugged his legs perfectly and a long sleeve gray shirt that brought out his pretty eyes. Mickey knew it brought out his eyes from so far away, because he's seen the shirt on him before. He'd been fucked the night he'd seen Ian wearing wearing that shirt, he thought smugly. The second thing he noticed was the other man's arm around Ian's waist. First pang of anger. The last thing he noticed, and quite possibly the reason things went down the way they did, is seeing Ian's arm around his shoulder and squeezing his bicep. Oh, fuck no, he thought to himself as he stood up from the table they'd put him at.

He ordered food and drinks just to not waste his waitresses time, or get kicked out, but that all was left behind with money and as much a tip as he could afford as the jealous Mickey trudged his way towards the 'happy couple'. Ian didn't look as happy with whatever this dudes name is as he did with Mickey. No gleam in his eye. Maybe that was his brain telling him that, but either way. Ians mouth dropped open as Mickey stood there.

"Ian. Can we talk." Mickey asked. He made it a point not to make any eye contact with the man Ian was out with. He would've knocked him the fuck out on the spot and he knew it. He wasn't worried about jail, honestly, because in Southside you don't call police for fights. You handle it yourself.

"No. I'm with Ryan." Ian shrugged and went to move past him. Mickey grabbed his arm.

"Ian-" Ryan, how fitting for the douchiest looking guy in the world, lifted his hand up to speak but Ian was grabbing it and yanking it down. He knew Mickey all too well to let him do something like that and piss Mickey off.

"Got something to say, Bryan?" He asked as he took a step closer to the man so they were toe to toe, "Because I'd change my mind if I were you."

Ian rubbed his hands over his face as Ryan got into Mickeys face as well. "My boyfriend here said no, so back the fuck off." Mickey looked like he'd been slapped, but it switched to fury so fast Ian couldn't believe it.

"He's not my boyfriend, Mick. Calm the fuck down." Ian said quickly to keep him from swinging and to really let him know that Ian hasn't moved on. He hasn't. Mickey didn't even look at him. The anger on his face was only getting worse. "Mickey." He'd tried again and grabbed Mickey's hand. He yanked it away and balled it up. Oh fuck, Oh God, Ian thought, he's about to hit Ryan.

He was right. Mickey reared back and shot his fist forward into Ryan's eye with practiced ease and watched him collapse onto the ground. He jumped on top of him and got one more hit in, maybe two before familiar hands wrapped around his middle and yanked him up with a force he couldn't fight against. "Mick, let's fucking go," he'd yelled as Mickey attempted to fight against him once he saw the man wasn't out for the count. In fact, he was already getting up.

"You fucking dick!" Ryan screamed loudly as Ian hauled Mickeys feet off of the floor and out of the diner with one arm around his waist. It would've turned him on if he wasn't so fucking angry. Next thing he knew, his back was against the wall down an alley and Ian's arms were by his head, caging him in.

"Fuck you," Ian spat in his face, but Mickey grinned. There was that gleam in his boys eyes that he noticed only came around when he was looking directly at Mickey. He'd watched him interact with Mandy. It wasn't there then. It sure as hell wasn't there when he was wrapped around Ryan. That was reserved for him. "Why the fuck are you even here? You plan on hitting everyone I fucking date now?" He was hurt. He was angry. He was confused. But something deep down inside of him was singing at the fact that Mickey came for him.

""I'm here because I don't want him to have you. I don't want anyone fucking having you!"

"The fuck? Even though you don't want me? You don't want me, but no one else can? Do you fucking see how fucked up that is? How fucked up I am over you and this whole 'i can't do relationships' bullshit, I can't keep-"

As nervous as Mickey was, he decided to speak then.

"Shut up," Mickey cut him off with a soft shaky inhale, his eyes searching Ian's for anything that could give away what he was feeling. Anger, at the moment. But that gleam was still there.

"Mickey, honestly fuck you!" He'd snapped again but now Mickeys hand was on the back of his head and he was pulling him in.

He rested their foreheads together. "Shut up and fucking kiss me,"

"Fuck," was all he heard Ian say before Mickey was pushing up on his tip toes a little to kiss him. When lips touched, Mickey could've fucking died right then. The overwhelming feeling of butterflies erupted in his stomach, which is so fucking gay but an accurate description and he suddenly couldn't breathe though his nose correctly. Ian deepened the kiss almost as soon as they began. No one would be able to blame him, he'd wanted to do this for almost five months now. He even thought about kissing him while Mickey was in juvie. It's really sad how much time he spent dreaming of lips he'd never touched before. Ian's mind was spinning. This was better than he could've ever imagined it being. His body was tingling, his hands were a little shaky. Now that he'd had this, he couldn't ever go without it. He was sure of that much.

Ian had his arms pinned against the wall now as he controlled the motions, dominating the kiss just like he did everything else in the bedroom. Ian kissed a lot like he fucked. Determined, wet, delicious. That one track mind determination of making Mickey jelly in his hands. Of making his boy come apart and feel so good. Mickey whined high in his throat into the kiss which isn't what he'd expected to do, but he couldn't help how much Ian turned him on. Especially when he was kissing him like he'd just come home from war.

Their kiss was disrupted by a loud scoff from behind them, and Ian moved away barely to see who had done it. Ryan, icing a black eye and with toilet paper sticking out of his nose, was watching them from the entry of the alley. He'd come looking for Ian to make sure he was alright. Apparently, he was more than alright. "Fuck this shit. You were a good fuck, but apparently that's all you're good for." He'd called to Ian, and Mickey's post kiss bliss was cut like a knife. He tried to push off of the wall, to get to that bastard but Ian had anticipated that without even having to look at him. He squeezed his wrists gently and kept him pressed against the wall by his hands. Ian turned his head back to face the boy he loved so much, and Mickey saw that he wasn't affected by what Ryan had said. No, he was more entranced by Mickey and everything that kiss had meant to him. It melted Mickey just a little, he wouldn't lie. Mickey relaxed a little bit but still, he wanted to kill that guy.

"Fuck you!" Mickey had yelled to the man he'd beaten up not even six minutes prior, "I'll fucking kill you!"

"Shh," Ian had whispered to him, "Ignore him, yeah?"

"Can I just go fuck him up a little? Come on, he's right there!" Mickey tried to pull away again but Ian turned his face.

"Eyes on me."

Mickey had heard that come out of Ian's mouth before, but they definitely had a lot less clothes and a lot more things stuffed inside of Mickey. Mickeys eyes shot to his and he melted a little. When he did, Ian's eyes were blown out a little with lust. He was thinking the same thing Mickey was. About the last time he'd said those words.

"Oh, you wanna fuck now, huh, firecrotch?" Mickey laughed. He'd know that look on Ian's face from anywhere, but this time held something a little different. Mickey couldn't quite put his finger on it. Maybe hope. Mickey could share that sentiment.

Ian grabbed his face and laughed,

"Shut up and kiss me."

That night was far, far from over.

__

Lmk if you want a part two!

[delulustateofmind]

oof This is Love, Right is so AMAZING, i loved it a bit too much. my heart broke for the reader when she was soooo close to escaping them, but it all came crashing down - so sad, seriously.

i wonder if they have a preference for boy or girl and also if the kid is satoru, how does geto react and the vice-versa

❤ and thank you for sharing such masterpiece with us

TW: Toxic relationship dynamics, mentions of pregnancy/children, mentions of breeding/lactation kinks. MDNI

I'm glad you enjoyed it! Thank you so much! 🩷

Ahhh...in terms of children, those freaks wouldn't care. Geto would surely want girls or twins again. Gojo is well...happy to be there. However, the higher-ups would pressure for at least one of your children to look like Gojo. As for themselves, Gojo and Geto love each other so much that they would love each other's kids.

Now obviously when you have kids that leads to other issues.

Like Geto's breeding kink, oh, his poor breeding kink would go into overdrive. He would absolutely adore seeing you pregnant—he’d be thrilled by the sight of you swollen with their child. It’s not just a visual thing; he loves doting on you during that time, thriving on the closeness and the proof that you need him. For Geto, your pregnancy solidifies his control and affection. (I fear he wouldn't let any of the maids touch you, so uh good luck spending nine months would him)

Gojo has unfortunately a lot of deeply ingrained issues, like being taken away from his parents way too young, which would lead to mommy issues. So when you're lactating. He'd develop a sort of fixation on it, barely saving enough for the kids, and once your milk starts drying up, he'd be ready to give you another one.

You're probably going to (unfortunately) end up with a lot of children. Producing more powerful sorcerers for the world and if there's an occasional non-sorcerer they'd be fine with that.

Now to add onto this how do the kids react to your situation:

Geto is extremely good at manipulation. As soon as your children are old enough to understand and remember things, he’d start planting the idea that you’re “sick.” That’s why you can’t leave, and that’s why you sometimes get “delusional” or lash out at him and Gojo. However, after one escape, Geto did snip your Achilles tendon, so good luck running after that.

So how do the children react, Naturally, they just believe him. Why would their dads lie to them? Their dads are heroes, the strongest, and honored. Who takes care of their sick mother who lashes out due to an illness. So, unfortunately, anytime you try to plead with them or tell them the truth, they'd think you're just "sick" and would probably cuddle you, tell you how much they love you, trying to make you feel better until your "meds" kick in. They'd likely pick up yandere tendencies themselves, thanks to the lovely example their fathers are setting. <3

Sorry for the ramble! I just know others commented about certain situations so I figured I'd just yap about it now.

[virtueofsanityx]

"cute brainiac is not exactly the descriptor i would use about myself, but i guess that's one of those to each their own kind of things, huh?" annie's smirk never waivers, though there is a moment, however brief, of uncertainty in her. reid is one of those guys that annie always tried to steer clear of. when she'd grown up in a silver spoon family, with people always trying to get on her good side because her family was rich, before her disownment and excommunication from the family, pretty boys like this one wanted to get close to her, and she knows that this isn't that, but it doesn't mean she's any less weary of it. "i already tolerate you, i mean, look. here we are, having a full blown conversation and i've only rolled my eyes at you, what, three times?" as she twists on the couch to face him a little more head on, there's something softer in her expression, the teasing still there, but maybe a little warmer. truth is, she does like reid. this side of reid. seeing him not being... the hot himbo guy. "probably for the best, to be honest. stella is one of those girls that you hit it once and she thinks you're getting married or something. definitely not booty call material. and then if you do decide to actually date her, you're looking at a girl going through your phone every day to make sure you didn't like some other girl's latest insta post. she's sweet, but definitely clingy and possessive."

"yeah, yeah. even if i know it, i still like to hear it. i like it even more when it comes from cute brainiacs like you, annie. maybe it's a bit of a fantasy," he remarked with a playful wiggle of his eyebrows followed by a genuine, slightly goofy grin. even if he joked around a lot, he wasn't all that good at hiding the fact that he had a bit of a crush on her. they were totally opposite of one another, but he loved that about her. "exactly. my reputation is at stake here, but hey - i'm okay with you seeing this side of me. i hope it makes me slightly more likable in your eyes. i'd love it if you could tolerate me, to be honest." reid chuckled, his eyes meeting hers with curiosity. "i'm not. i mean, i don't think so. stella isn't someone i'm interested in - not really. she's hot, but i find her... very annoying, to be honest."

[her-soliloquies]

If someone else comes to me complaining that Vander and Silco are brothers and CANNOT be shipped, I might snap.