#as long as they aren't in my room idc

[fruit-colored-ninja]

lloyd naming himself for the pun off his dad’s name is still the funniest thing ever because like. little evil gremlin lloyd would one hundred percent have done that without hesitation. cannot express enough how canon this is in my head.

[kogameh]

side rant but I'm pissed there are GAIJIN fans unironically saying "Duel Masters is SOOOO stupid for not making Shobu x Mimi canon 😒😒" like damn if a trophy het ship not becoming canon is your priority then do you even give a shit abt Duema or Shobu at all 😭 EVERYONE cried for Shobu's "death" after his tragic sacrifice for the world with clearly Rekuta and Hakuoh bawling their eyes out the most in the final chapter and you STILL have to act like the only character Shobu is capable of having a meaningful relationship with is Mimi?? okay??

[shotmrmiller]

Uninvited, Unexpected.

a/n: it's nice until the very end. it hints at baby trapping. one solid sentence that's kinda degrading (i couldn't help myself ok) this was in the works for so long, i did so much research just to use words. english is hard. and ignore the plot holes, for my sake. my sanity.

this is SMUT. 18+mdni please (if im missing anything else, lmk)

ty to my wonderful beta readers @waves-against-a-cliff & @xoxunhinged

wc: 3,1K

Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!reader

my contribution to the @glitterypirateduck ghost challenge. idc if i wrote it much earlier lol.

You're awoken by a loud noise. At first, you think you dreamt it. Exploding head syndrome, maybe. You strain your hearing but it's quiet, save for the occasional creak of the house settling, its old bones creaking in the dead of night. Rain gently patters against the windows, blurring the world outside.

A flash of sudden light illuminates the bedroom, casting elongated shadows across the floor, followed by a loud crack that rattles the glass. Thunder. You should've guessed.

The frantic beating of your heart slows to a gentle roll, and your eyes leaden with sleep. The soft pillows beckon, the warm blankets cradle you as you sink back onto the mattress.

Only for you to be snapped back into reality, drowsiness dissipating like a morning mist.

Someone's knocking on your door.

Your heart is in your throat as you quickly peel off the blankets, the chill of the floorboards underneath your bare feet seeping into your bones.

In the bookshelf sits the gun Simon had given you before he had moved out, the rumble of his voice a ghost in your ear. "For protection," he'd murmured, placing the cold metal onto your open palms. "Jus' in case."

Your trembling fingers fumble as you search for it in the dark, flinching as a couple of books spill from the shelf onto the floor, pages rustling in your urgency.

The knocking persists.

The metal of the grip is unyielding in your clammy hands. You've never tested it before, never had the displeasure. As you hold it close to your chest with a quivering breath, you hope tonight won't change that.

Simon's instructions echo in your mind as you approach the front door. "Thumb the safety. Hold the grip with both hands. Do not, under any circumstance, put your finger on the trigger unless you're plannin' on sendin' hate. Clear?"

Your throat tightens, a phantom snake coiling around the narrow passage, and panic grips your heart as you reach for the blinds, slowly hooking two fingers and carefully pulling down to look at who is—

Simon.

Simon?

Sweat-slick fingers flip the light switch before quickly undoing the locks, the hinges groaning in protest as the door opens.

"What the hell?"

It's Simon, disheveled— maskless— swaying on his feet. His eyes are half-closed and unfocused. Johnny's holding him up by the arm, struggling to keep him upright.

"S'ry, bonnie. We wen' out fer a few 'nd clearly, he's out 'is face. Quite crabbit, too. He said ye'd let 'em sleep 'ere," he slurs.

Simon's not the only one who's pissed. With a resigned sigh, you gesture at the couch with your free hand. "There, I guess."

That he thought of you even in his drunken haze tugs at your fragile heartstrings.

Johnny guides him to the catch, a quiet C'mon LT to spur him forward. Heavy boots thud against the floor as they stumble toward the living room while you carefully place the gun on the kitchen countertop before reaching for a water bottle in the pantry. Johnny snickers under his breath as Simon collapses onto the sofa, the springs protesting his weight.

Two bottles, then.

You watch Simon's head loll as you hand Johnny the water. "Tell me you aren't the one driving, Johnny," you grumble.

He takes it with a quiet thanks. "Naw. Cap'n's stone cold sober."

Small mercies.

Johnny gives Simon a rough slap to the side of his leg as he bids him goodbye, pulling you in for an embrace tight enough that your spine pops before walking out the door.

You let out another sigh as the lock clicked back into place. The tangy, sour scent of stale alcohol mixed with stings at your nose, as does the invasive smell of smoke.

His boots are mud-caked, and you'll be damned if he stains your nice furniture with his mess. "Shoes off." He groans but complies. The laces come undone quickly, and you tug his shoes off with a grunt. "Simon."

His glassy eyes meet yours. "Drink your water." The burning need to chuck it at his head is one you have to vehemently smother into embers. Moron. Only Simon would have the gall to show up unannounced months after the separation. And drunk.

You push the bottle into his chest roughly and make to go back to bed when he encircles his hand around your wrist and the world spins on its axis, suddenly finding yourself beneath him with his face nestled in the crook of your neck.

Simon's breath is hot against your skin, the weight of his body pinning you down so achingly familiar. It stirs up past memories that would have you pressing your thighs together if he wasn't right there, using his broad waist to spread them apart.

"Missed ya, love." A confession. "S'much."

The breath you draw is jagged, his slow-spoken words hanging in the air. You want to push him away, scream at him for stumbling in and disrupting your night, your rest, your carefully crafted peace. But there's a part of you that can't help but soften at the tenderness in his tone.

"Simon," you whisper. "You're drunk. You don't know what you're saying—" his lips find your fluttering pulse. You find purchase in his shirt, shaky fingers grasping at the hem.

"'M drunk, no' no liar." Your resolve wavers. No, he never had been. Honesty hadn't been the reason for the split. It wasn't the truth he'd spoken but the truths he'd kept to himself. A fortress around his heart, the bridge to its gates raised. Unwilling to share a burden, share a life.

His warm tongue licks a hot stripe up your neck reaching the lobe of your ear where his blunt teeth sink into it. A choked gasp spills from your mouth, spine arching in reflex— your treacherous body remembering his touch, yearning for it.

"Simon—" your words get caught in your throat; snag like fishhooks when he undulates his hips, arousal creeping along your veins like ivy.

"Don't ya miss me, pet?" You've asked him to not call you that because it never fails to stoke the fire in your belly, to sodden your knickers. Before you can chide him on his choice of words, he shifts. One arm, an inked column under the soft light of the living room, holds him up just enough to bring his rugged face into focus. His eyes, like a stormy night's sky, swirl with untamed desire.

You know it's dangerous to play with fire. Touch it and burn, ache, blister. But the passion of this old flame beckons like a siren with sharp teeth. Each drag of his prominent erection against your core only succeeds in pulling you away from the shore of clarity. It's disorienting, insistent.

Relentless.

"My pretty little love," he mumbles. Simon's gaze drags from your glassy eyes to the delicate contours of your collarbone. His fingers trace lines of intimacy onto the swell of your breasts before using the pad of his thumb to swirl the stiffened peak of your nipple. "Say the word 'nd it all stops."

The scent of alcohol clings to him, a bitter reminder of the loss of inhibitions it brings as it warms one's chest. Blurred lines he might not mind, but you do. Lost boundaries. Rejection sits on the tip of your tongue, on the edge of your teeth when he says something that frays the last threads of your resolve.

It comes undone.

"Please. Jus' tonigh'. All I need." His words sound like footsteps in winter mire, slushed, syllables blending together.

You'll just have to kick him out on his arse in the morning.

"Okay," you breathe. Just one night, you tell yourself. He's always been good to you in the bedroom. One last hurrah wouldn't hurt. Maybe it'll allow you to finally close this painful chapter in your life and start anew, with pristine white pages and fresh ink.

Your hands, trembling with nerves and anticipation, cradle his face. The roughness of his stubble in contrast with the softness of your palms is grounding, keeping you from being pulled under your own swirling emotions.

" 'M righ' 'ere, love. You're safe with me, always." He whispers the last words reverently, a vow. Simon's breath mingles with yours as he leans in for a kiss.

The world around you fades, your senses tunneled on the feel of his lips, the taste of him— mildly sweet with a hint of peppermint. He slants his head to deepen the kiss, and the bruising ache in your heart is replaced by another, one that burns brightly and threatens to sweep you away.

The lulling sound of the pouring rain outside is drowned out by the beating of your racing heart.

The bed creaks when Simon perches you on the edge of it, quietly ordering you to take your top off.

"What about my bottoms?" You bite down on the gummy inside of your cheek when he pins you in place with a look— a predator eyeing its prey.

"Those are mine." Resounding. Final. A gavel in a courtroom.

You fling your shirt off, tossing it into some forgotten corner in the room, and cheekily watch Simon undress. It's not methodical like it used to be. No longer a means to an end. Experienced fingers undo the buckle of his belt before he takes it off, the leather material snapping in the air, slicing through the silence.

A quip tumbles out of your mouth faster than you can stop it. "Gonna spank me with that?"

The air around you thickens— or thins, you can't be sure— when his eyes flash to you. He kicks off his jeans, one foot after the other, wobbling as he does. "Tha' wha' you want?" The words he didn't say ring out loud and clear.

Don't rattle the cage, sweetheart. This dog isn't muzzled.

You sink your teeth into your bottom lip to keep from saying anything else, something that he might take you up on, instead focusing on the way his heavy cock hangs in between legs (dangling with each step forward—)

"M'eyes are up 'ere." Your nose scrunches at his joke. Cute.

He lowers himself onto his knees, your legs cradling his face as it hovers over your sex, close enough to feel the warmth of his breath on your heated skin.

The sleeping shorts you're wearing are ratty and worn. They're thin too, practically translucent from constant use. Which means that he can see that you're not wearing any undergarments underneath.

"Hope you know I can—" Heat licks up the sides of your jaw, pooling in your cheeks as you cut him off with a snappy remark.

"Yes. I know."

The tip of his pointed tongue drags along the seam of your shorts, right along your slit. Your breath hitches, and you clench your jaw to keep from making a sound. Your back bows involuntarily, the feeling startling, intense.

"Can see tha' clear as day, as if lookin' through a windowpane, pet," he taunts. The words that are forming, almost ready to spill out, freeze in place when his mouth comes in direct contact with your slippery cunt. He licks once, twice, through your folds, slightly dipping into your slick entrance, only pulling away to nuzzle your pearl with his misaligned nose.

"Sweet as a peach, jus' like I remember," he purrs, the timbre of his voice buzzing against your puffy lips. "Missed this." A mewl slithers past your grit teeth when he gently sinks one thick finger into you, curling and twisting. Arousal drips onto his knuckle, tracing a hot path down to his wrist. He coos at you when he adds another digit, hissing at the sharp but brief pinprick of the stretch.

"Bloody fuckin' tight." Simon rises off the floor, the quiet sound of his knees popping swallowed up by your harsh pants. "Gotta let me in, love. Relax."

He keeps the thrusts shallow, his fingers dragging deliciously along your nerve endings. The sting soon fades, giving way to a gentle warmth that unfurls inside of you, letting Simon reach deeper until—

Your muscles stiffen, tight like a spring when he brushes over the rough patch of skin that has bursts of light appearing across your eyelids.

"Look at ya. Droolin' like a mutt with my fingers stuffed up your pretty cunt."

There's a pressure in your lower belly that's steadily building with each sloppy thrust of his hand, pulling squelching noises from your sodden pussy. He finally, finally, latches onto your neglected clit, lightly sucking on it in tandem with his fingers.

Your chin drops to your chest as everything nears a breaking point. The pressure inside you has your body wound tight. The fibers of your muscles contract, almost painfully, preparing for the release of what's to come, what can't be ignored.

The swirling of his golden tongue pushes against the boundaries of your endurance, pushes you to the precipice, where you finally hit the point of no return. You can feel something about to give, ecstasy trickling through the cracks in your foundation, uncontrollable, raw. Your fingers thread through Simon's hair, curling tightly, pulling it taut when you feel something about to give—oh fuck—

Snap.

The structure that holds everything in place collapses.

A sudden release of pent-up energy and emotion erupts like a dam bursting, a cleansing flood that washes away the grime of old wounds, of bitterness, leaving the edges softened so they can heal; knit closed and scar over. Closure. It touches every part of you, filling you with a sense of liberation.

Your heart beats freely, it throbs with life as a wave of relief washes over you, soothing, a balm over scraped flesh, a rush of cool air into starved lungs.

A lightness that comes after being weighed down with burdens for so long.

Simon's hands encircle your arms firmly— fingers digging into the meat of your biceps— and effortlessly maneuvers you toward the center of the bed as if your lethargic form were a feather caught in a breeze; weightless, insignificant.

Gentle but unyielding.

There's a ringing in your ears that muffles his voice, blurring the edges of his words, an unintelligible hum, as if you were underwater. The sensation leaves you feeling adrift in a tranquil sea, cradled in its silken embrace. The only anchor you have to the muzzy reality is his warm touch.

"'M sorry, sweetheart. I can't," he apologizes, hooking your right leg over his shoulder. You let out a sibilant hiss as he leans forward, pushing your knee to your chest, the corded muscle of your hamstring pulling to its limit. "Can't wait anymore, 'm sorry."

Simon gives you a sloppy kiss as his heaving length prods at your swollen entrance, the tip breaching your pussy with a warm burn that starts from under your navel and only flares, radiating from your core outward. It's searing, the initial bite of the stretch disrupts the haze in your muddled mind, bringing the world around you into cutting clarity.

A guttural noise claws up his throat as Simon sheathes himself halfway, his growled words not the salve he was hoping for. It only grates at already raw nerves, abrasive.

"Jus' a little more, you can take it." He winds a hand downward to draw messy circles on your slippery clit, to stifle the roaring fire in your stomach, your chest. "You already have."

His jerky touch does its job, transforming the sharp burn of him wrenching your walls apart fiber by fiber into a quiet glow; smoldering heat now simmering. You soften, mellow and pliant, accept him into your body as he sinks to the hilt with a quiet groan.

"There's my girl. Takin' all of it like you were made f'me." Simon's words of praise tangle around your spine, electric, prickling. Your heart gallops like a herd of horses, wild and free. "Liked tha' did you? Jus' about strangled my cock with your tight cunt."

He rolls his hips once, twice, searching for signs of discomfort, but when only warm pleasure laps at your heels, when the barest of moans spill from your open lips, Simon begins to put his weight behind his thrusts.

Through half-lidded eyes, you see a raw, primal hunger reflected in his eyes— his soul, the one he'd claimed to have lost long ago, back with his reason, his sanity.

Yet he looks down at you as if you were his only salvation. A lifeline he grabs onto with an unyielding grip, his only tether to hope, purpose. A lighthouse shining in a raging storm, a beacon calling him home.

Simon presses a large hand onto your lower stomach, his work-worn palm pushing until you wince, brows furrowing at the fleeting whisper of pain.

"Can feel myself right here," he sluggishly mumbles, drunk of the feel of your cunt, the taste of your skin on his tongue— sweet like ripened figs. The sensory overload has him sinking his fingers into your flesh until it dimples.

He murmurs something under his taxed breath, something akin to mine, only mine as his lips leave a slick trail of saliva on the dip of your collarbone, the gentle curve of your shoulder, the thin, soft skin of your bicep up to your inner wrist, where he laps at your pulse.

As if savoring the present. The precious gift he's unwrapped, here and now. The last taste of you, which he hopes with a reverence that borders on prayer, lingers on his tongue long after the fruit— the sweet evidence of this one last intimacy— falls from the bough.

Simon comes with his teeth in the crook of your neck, biting down with a crushing pressure that has an acute pain digging its spurs into your consciousness, cutting the blazing euphoria of your own release short.

His cock is still twitching as he fills you with his spend when he takes his thumb and collects some of your slick to take you over the edge one last time.

"F'me. You can take it, yeah? I'll go slow, I promise."

Simon presses a kiss on your sweaty temple, his large hand cupping your jaw as he lazily watches you succumb to sleep, your breath evening out.

He reaches for your arm again, feeling for the birth control implant you'd had there when the both of you were still together.

Gone.

Sweet girl. You'd let him in without a fight. (He makes a mental note to wash the beer off of his clothes tomorrow.)

He knows your cycle better than the lines that are etched onto his palm. Better than the voice of the captain who rumbles in his earpiece, ordering him to go for the throat.

From the moment you'd stepped into his life with eternity in your eyes and the warmth of the sun on your lips, you were his. And he'll do anything to remain in your orbit.

(left unable to distinguish prison from paradise when each poison-coated kiss softens the world he'll build for you and for what's to come.)

[dollfacefantasy]

ADD TO THE COLLECTION ♡

pairing: rick grimes x fem!reader

summary: rick finds an old halloween mask out on a supply run. he brings it back to you, and the two of you put it to good use

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, mask kink, praise/degradation, cnc sorta

a/n: yes i wrote another ghostface mask kink fic. idc idc. you can pry that idea from my cold dead hands. every single man i simp for will have one if it's the last thing i do <3

kinktober slot: day 4 - mask kink

"Ew. You know that thing probably has like a billion diseases, right?" you say, a wide smile spreading across your face as you look at the raggedy Halloween mask in your boyfriend's hand.

The slender, pale face stares back at you with its motionless expression of horror. You hadn't seen one of them in a long time. Certainly not since the world went to shit.

"A billion? I don't know about that. Maybe a million," he teases.

Rick enters the room and approaches where you sit on the bed, wanting to show off his find from the supply run a bit more.

"Don't bring it too close to me. I don't wanna catch something," you say with a hand raised in defense.

"So dramatic," he mocks, "I'm not gonna put it on you."

The wooden floor creaks below his boots as he steps to the edge of the mattress. He sits down, the foamy surface dipping with the addition of his weight.

You can't help leaning forward a little bit out of curiosity. Scooting closer to his side, you look between his face and the mask.

"Were you guys raiding a Spirit Halloween or something?" you ask, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He chuckles. His hands rotate the mask between them. It actually isn't in horrible condition. Maybe a little dusty, but there aren't any huge stains or tears. Visions of him wearing it rise to the front of your mind. You could imagine his head turning, the hollow black eyes following you as he watched your figure move about. The thin fabric fanning out over his shoulders also comes up. Your favorite though is the thought of how it would look above you while he thrusts in and out of you.

Shaking those images out of your head, you refocus when he answers your question.

"No, nothin' like that. I just saw it and thought of you," he tells you, turning his head and pecking your cheek, "I remembered you tellin' me how you used to love those movies."

You almost visibly swoon. "That's so sweet. Slasher movies make you think of me," you coo, "How did I get so lucky?"

Your arms slide up and drape around his neck, bringing you closer so you can nuzzle the side of his face. His skin scratches at you a little bit. The prickle of stubble was rising again.

He returns your affection and pushes the mask aside in favor of pulling you into his lap. The two of you melt into each other and then back onto the bed. One of the perks of living in Alexandria now was not having to wait until everyone fell asleep for the night to go at it.

Rick could be so soft for you. Ever since the two of you met, he seemed so naturally protective. He always lets you hold his hand. Your safety was his top priority along with that of his kids. Before the world went bad, you'd bet he was the kind of guy to hold the door open on dates and call women "miss" or "ma'am."

You're pretty sure that's why you want to see him in that mask so bad.

You knew Rick had another side to him. Something beneath the mask of being the good guy. You'd seen it before a few times. The nights where he ended up soaked in someone else's blood, the sticky crimson liquid coating his facial hair, staining his clothes.

A week after he first found that mask, he comes to your room at night wearing one of the pieces of clothing that's been marred with someone else's insides.

The mask over his face has been cleaned. He clearly washed away the dust and any other sign of mileage on the thing. The ivory plastic front shines without a spot of grime while the black fabric draped atop his hair sits there, dark as the night sky outside.

It's a sharp contrast to the white t-shirt he has on. The cloth pours down his neck and over his shoulder onto the light garment. But the abdomen of this top isn't as pristine as the collar. Blood speckles across the snowy threading, the pattern spatters in a way that makes it look like one of those ink blot tests. If you were the one being questioned, you'd say it looks sort of like a tree.

He stands there against the frame of the doorway in silence, waiting to be noticed. You had been cleaning your boots. When you finally finish, you rise from your spot on the edge of the bed and tuck them in their normal spot against the wall. Sighing, you lean back and prepare to finally have nothing left on your to-do list.

But you feel the other presence in the room. You catch him in your peripheral vision, and a gasp tears through you. Your heart springs from a calm resting beat to erratic thrashing against your ribcage. Thoughts melt from your head while breaths grow spikes in your lungs.

Once you turn your head fully and give your brain a second to register that it's only him, you start to calm down. You let out a deep sigh and put your hand across your chest.

"God, don't do that," you huff, "You scared me."

He doesn't respond.

You continue to catch your breath before looking over at him again. Your eyes scan up and down his figure. He leans against the wall so casually. His arms cross over his chest while his ankles hook one on top of the other below. Even though you can't see his gaze, you can feel the intensity of his pupils on you.

"You're lucky I didn't have my gun on me," you tell him and narrow your eyes.

Again, you get no words out of him. But this time he does push off the edge of the entryway and step forward. He swings the door shut behind him and continues to stare you down.

It's weird. Having him just stand there, digs a pit in the bottom of your belly. For a split second, your mind floats the possibility that this isn't him. The paranoid sector of your head poses questions like what if this was someone else who just found the mask? What if they just looked like Rick?

But then his arms drop from his chest and you see the silver of his watch glimmer in the pale moonlight. 

It doesn't kill the tingling in your nerves any; rather, it transforms the sensation. It's a different kind of strange seeing Rick act like this. It wasn't the version of him that came out for a true threat.  He was never so silent when that was the case. In moments of desperation, he became feral - eyes darting around, limbs taut with the preparedness to strike. But that's when you realize this isn't a moment of desperation. He's the one in control. He's the threat in this situation.

"You're not even gonna try to run, little girl?" he asks, his voice coming out in that familiar drawl but with a little edge to it.

Your spine lights up like a fuse. Excitement seeps into your bones. Everything feels jittery. You don't know what to do or say. In this moment, you just want.

"You're in the way. I don't have anywhere to run," you say. Your voice waivers almost as if you naturally fall into the role of the helpless victim.

It's weird hearing yourself like that. In the world you lived in, you never wanted to sound like that. Showing weakness meant death. And hearing it from someone you loved meant their time was coming to end. Being able to express it now though, it felt different. You weren't sure how to articulate it, but that could be due to the fact that you'd never been so turned on before in your life.

He approaches you further. The wooden floor boards creak beneath his slow steps. You try to back up but your knees hit the mattress.

"No runnin'? You're gonna make this too easy for me," he chuckles, "Put up a little fight."

Your teeth dig into your bottom lip. He leans in closer to you, reaching up to drag his fingers down your cheek. You try to lean back but end up having to sit on the bed and scoot away on the mattress to create some distance.

He just laughs and grabs your ankle, preventing you from getting too far. You try wriggling your leg a little bit, but he tightens his grip and grabs the other one.

"Tsk, tsk. Pathetic," he taunts, "You're just gonna let me take what I want?"

You try kicking a little harder, but it's of no use. Each jerk of your leg goes to waste. Nothing changes. There would be no difference if you didn't move at all and just made what he said true.

"So cute," he mocks, "Just tirin' yourself out for me."

"It's not fair," you whine. You roll yourself onto your belly and try to drag yourself away by grabbing the edge of the bed. He doesn't let you though. Even though Rick was lean, he didn't lack strength. That coupled with his training as a pre-apocalypse police officer meant he knew how to restrain people. You whimper and buck your hips to try and create some momentum to get away, but it's all of no use.

"You cheated. You didn't give me a chance to run," you continue to pout before repeating your prior sentiment, "Not fair."

He laughs and whips you around onto your back again. This time he leans forward and tugs your hips harshly, dragging you over the collection of blankets so that your ass is flush against his semi-hard bulge.

"Who said I have to play fair, princess?" he asks, "Weak little thing like you wouldn't have made it far anyways."

Another whine bubbles from your lips as you squirm. He looms over you, keeping you accessible to him with the weight of his body. As he closes in, your breathing becomes heavier. The white ghostface stops inches away from the tip of your nose. You stare into the expressionless eyes of the match while your cunt throbs against the heat of his pelvis.

"You're lucky I caught you here. Spares you the embarrassment of getting dragged back, kicking and screaming. Or even worse, me pounding you into the grass out there where anyone could see," he breathes.

You shudder at the images his words create in your head.

He can feel the tremble of your limbs, and he pushes the mask up slightly to bare his lips. For a second, you think he's going in for a kiss. And in a way, that's true. But it's not on your mouth. Instead, he ducks down to your throat. He attacks it with fervor much more intense than what you usually felt from him.

These kisses are hot and open-mouthed. The tip of his tongue tickles your pulsing skin. His lips feather against it while his teeth nip and tug. All you can do is melt under it. You try to keep in character and put up a bit of resistance, but it's not a strong performance.

His fingers hook over the top of your little sleep shorts and panties and pull them down to your mid-thigh. That was all the room he needed. His hand not clutching one of your biceps slides down between your thighs. He can feel the slick on his fingers in seconds, and he huffs out a laugh.

"Oh, you're a bad girl, aren't you? The slightest bit of attention, and you're dripping. I didn't even have to do anything," he says.

After those words hit your ears, he pulls back. He tugs your shorts all the way off to free your legs before he shoves his jeans down far enough that his length can spring free. He's almost fully hard. The sight of your slippery cunt makes it easier to take it from almost to solid.

He strokes it and watches you. It's obvious how ready you are, but he can't help but want to draw it out a little more.

"Take off your top," he commands.

Your breath hitches, and you swear you feel your heart stutter. Of course, he'd seen you naked before, but it felt new here. This wasn't Rick's cool blue eyes gazing down at you with love. It was the dark, empty patches of painted plastic.

Nevertheless, your hands venture down and peel your shirt from your body. Once it's gone, your tits are left exposed to his view. He doesn't touch them, and you can't see if he stares directly at them, but it feels like he does.

He pumps his cock a little faster. A small groan rumbles from his mouth.

"I don't even have to say it twice. You didn't even need to see my face to listen. I either have you so well-trained, or you're just the most natural slut out there, babydoll. Just waiting for orders to follow like a little puppy," he rasps.

He pushes forward and slides his leaky tip against your folds. A small whine sneaks out of you at the pressure on your clit. The head nudges it before gliding down toward your entrance again where it pops in.

You both hiss at the feel. On his part, you're already so warm and tight. For you, it's the mild stretch combined with the satisfaction of having something inside you. Either way, it's just a taste of what's to come.

He sinks in more, guiding the rest of his shaft into your pussy. Whimpering, you arch your back off the bed the tiniest bit. His hand lands on your tummy and pushes you down again though. He forces you to take it all and then rocks his hips back and slams forward again.

"So sensitive," he teases.

His hands curl around your hips before he starts thrusting. Like the earlier kisses, his pelvis snaps against you with more force than usual. Your eyes roll back from the bouncing rhythm while your fingers clutch the linens beneath you.

"Poor baby. You never had any fight in you to begin with," he teases, "You give in so easily."

"It- it's not my fault," you whimper. More moans seep out of you. It feels like every slap of skin on skin knocks a new noise from you.

"Oh yes it is," he grunts, "You didn't even try because you want this. You just wanna be filled up. Don't even care who's doing it."

As he says that, your hazy eyes look up at the mask. "Do too..." you pout.

Your walls squeeze around him tight at the sight of the haunted face watching you. It bobs a little with his motions as well, shaken by the force of them.

He laughs at you from beneath the mask and speeds up a little. You clench around him in tandem with your toes curling. He leans in and bends you further in half on the mattress.

"Ok sure, sweetheart. That's why you didn't even need to see my face before I slid my dick inside you," he breathes.

Your little clit throbs at the words. As if he can sense it, one of his hands rises to thumb at the nub. Your hips buck in response, eager for more. Deep, whiny sighs flood into the air from you. He can't get enough.

"That's right, keep squeezin' me, darlin'" he says, arousal infecting his tone now too.

You nod like you have a real say. The way he was battering your pleasure spots and swiping at your clit had you tightening up involuntarily. He still moans with the feeling though. His head tilts back. You can hear his panting getting louder below that mask.

A few strokes later, he reaches up and yanks it off, dropping it to the floor next to his boot. His hair hangs damp against his forehead while his cheeks are a little flushed from the heat. None of this stops him from fucking into you though. It's as if he can't stop. The chase for release captures him on a deeper level.

Even without the help of ghostface, his stare is intense. His pupils glare into you as he provides you with more pleasure than you know what to do with.

"You think you're gonna cum for me? Gush all over my cock?" he croons mockingly.

You nod. Your arm weakly flies up so you can grab at his wrist. "Need it, Rick," you whine.

He chuckles, a small smirk teasing his lips. "You can have it then. Let it go for me," he says.

Your hips buck in time with the next handful of whimpers that leave your lips. The climb to the top feels so fucking good. Your core sizzles up until it reaches a fever pitch and you explode into white hot pleasure. A low, satisfied hum reverberates from you as your eyelashes dust your cheeks.

He fucks you through the feeling, one hand on your throat, the other down at your clit, swirling around the small nub a few times to give you the extra boost. It makes you nice and tight around his dick. Your walls squeeze like a vise. He has no choice but to let go.

As desperate as he is to fuck it deep inside of you, he stops himself at the last second and pulls out. He grabs his cock at light speed before that feeling can vanish and pumps it at the same rhythm he'd been thrusting into you.

Warm, milky ropes of cum shoot out onto your belly. The splatter across your skin, glimmering in the cool light of the night. You force your eyes open when you hear his deep moan. You're almost certain you've never seen anything as beautiful as Rick's face when he releases. His brows furrow while his jaw relaxes. He parts his lips in a small o. You watch with droopy eyes, the haze of lust still not totally gone yet.

When he's finished, he stares down at you in a similar fashion. His hand cups the back of your neck so he can bring you up to give you a kiss before he goes and grabs a towel. The bloody shirt he'd been wearing is gone when he returns. He cleans the spend off your belly and then crawls back into bed with you.

You snuggle up to him, ready to close your eyes and conk out. But then you think of something.

"I knew it was you before you took off the mask," you say. The flesh of your cheek smooshes against this chest.

He looks down at you with a raised eyebrow.

"Cause your watch," you say proudly, as if you'd discovered some great clue.

The information registers but then his lips break into a grin. "Hmm, smart girl. I'll have to keep that in mind if I ever put on the mask for something secretive," he teases before yawning and tugging you closer to his side.

"Mhm, cause I'd figure you out right away," you murmur.

"I'm sure," he agrees, pressing a few kisses to your head. "Get some sleep, baby."

[caprart1]

Hiii guys guess what? I made a Sephiroth x Reader reeeheeheehee don't we love that

Contents:

Sane Sephiroth (idc idc I need it)

Kissing hee hee!!

A LITTLE bit of angst?

Cuddling, because I just want to hold him tbh

This is also on ao3 but idk how to hyperlink so it's also here under the cut 👇 ok goodnight

Human (Sephiroth x GN Reader)

Sephiroth was strong, there was no question about that. The world revered him as the legendary warrior he was, a title he had rightfully earned as his name became synonymous with power. He was cold and merciless in nature, and swift and accurate in combat. Talk of him among SOLDIER often consisted of speculation that he was not even human, but rather an indestructible weapon specially created for war. At least, that was what the lower class SOLDIERs claimed; the ones who looked up to him and watched in awe as he trained day in and day out. As his close friend, however, you recognized him as a human, and humans are not indestructible.

It was normal for Sephiroth to spend most of his days training alone or with others, or hidden away when Shinra demanded his time. Still, he rarely appeared worn out. He always maintained his polished image and calculated persona. As a SOLDIER you found yourself impressed with him, admiring his consistent strength and elegance. Yet, with the privilege of your friendship, you were more aware than others of the slightest changes in his appearance and behaviors. Those keen observations had made you aware lately of how dark circles had begun to slowly appear under Sephiroth's piercing eyes.

Today you were with him to help him spar, per his request. He bested you each round, as you expected, but you had been at an even greater disadvantage since you were focused on those subtle dark circles. You knew how well Sephiroth cared for himself, so it was jarring to notice this imperfection. It was unlike him.

"You look... damn... a bit tired lately," you huffed out when you became winded after a while of sparring. Sephiroth sighed as he lowered his sword.

"I have been facing trouble sleeping at my usual hours, but I am fine nonetheless. Do you need a moment?"

"Yeah, just... just a minute."

The two of you put up your weapons and took a seat at one of the benches there. You spent a few moments catching your breath while Sephiroth sat beside you, arms crossed over his broad chest and leg crossed over the other as he waited. Your eyes squinted as you looked over him for a drop of sweat. It was slightly annoying how he never seemed even the tiniest bit exhausted after fighting, you always thought to yourself.

"So, has there been anything that is keeping you from sleeping?"

Sephiroth shook his head and clicked his tongue. "You're still focused on that? I am fine, truly. Worry about yourself. Perhaps if you spent more time on that, you would be a better SOLDIER."

"You're good enough for the both of us," you grumbled at his teasing. "Is there something coming up? It just seems like you've been training harder than usual recently."

"In three weeks, I will be leading a mission to Nibelheim to inspect a Mako reactor. It will be the first big mission for one of our newest First-Class SOLDIERs, so I must be prepared for anything that could go wrong."

"Nibelheim... that's a long journey. Aren't you worried you won't function well if you're not getting enough rest?"

Sephiroth paused before responding. "I'm more than capable of functioning under less-than-adequate circumstances. You shouldn't worry yourself over my being."

Sephiroth continued his vigorous training over the next few weeks, leaving little time for anything else aside when the Shinra scientists called for him. You could swear that his dark circles were growing more prominent by the day. At times, there were odd hours of the night that you strolled down the halls of Shinra, and for many of those you saw Sephiroth back in the training room. His energy seemed different during these nights; the way he moved was more ferocious, as if his body was overflowing with anger. Intimidated chills would run through your spine just watching as he sliced through simulated targets. It made you wonder what kinds of thoughts went through his mind, and why he was not sleeping as he normally would at that hour. You never lingered around long enough to express your concern to him however, finding it best to leave him alone.

The concern eventually grew into worry when one day Sephiroth had met with you for another sparring session. As collected as he always presented himself to be, today his mind seemed to be lost somewhere beyond consciousness. His words were short and he broke eye contact uncharistically early. Even his movements dragged a bit as he prepared himself to train with you, lacking his typical sophistication. You also did not fail to notice how his blinks had become slow and drawn out, like his eyelids had to fight to open.

There was something else upon further inspection. Was that puffiness around his eyes?

"Are you ready now?" You were broken out of your study of him when Sephiroth spoke to you, Masamune in hand.

"Hold on, I need to put on my armor."

He nodded as he set aside his weapon and turned away, finding a seat and crossing his arms over his chest. You shook your worry out of your head and attempted to shift your attention to equipping your gear. However, you kept looking back at Sephiroth and observing him quietly sitting, head looking down. Something about how quiet he was struck you as odd though. It was not until a minute had passed of him being still that you decided to walk over and check on him. Perhaps he was just being patient and enjoying the moment of relaxation, you thought.

You soon realized that was not the case, however, as Sephiroth made no sign of acknowledgement the closer you came towards him. He was always acutely aware of his surroundings, even off the battlefield. As you stepped in front of him, eyes on his slightly hung head, you noticed his shut eyes and lips that were parted just enough to release delicate breaths. His whole body, miraculously upright, swayed steadily in time with his breathing. You hesitated in place, unsure of what to do. Your gaze fixated on how sweetly his long eyelashes rested on his cheeks, begging you not to disturb him. Even relentless warriors were not impervious; Sephiroth, too, was a human who needed his rest. But the logic in you argued the consequences of leaving him, and so with bated breath you reached out and softly touched his shoulder.

"Sephiroth?" you said in a hushed voice, too quiet for untrained ears. You watched Sephiroth's body jolt in surprise, but as quick as he awoke he had composed himself as if to play off that he dozed at all.

"Have you prepared?" he asked as he rose from his seat, wasting no moment to address his dozing, and walked past you. You turned back and watched him, your eyebrows furrowed with concern.

As he reached out to retrieve his weapon, you stopped him with a hand over his arm.

"Seph."

Sephiroth stood in place, stilled by the rare shortening of his name, unmoving his arm from your grasp and eyes trailing away to an unknown plane. You studied his face for any signs of opposition to your interjection, and upon finding none you gently began to pull him.

To your amazement and relief, Sephiroth made no attempt to resist and allowed you to pull him out of the training room. The way was silent as you lead him through corridors and to his quarters, passing by the occasional SOLDIER. As soon as you entered and shut the door, you saw Sephiroth begin to remove his coat and shoulder armor like he had been waiting to. Your face flushed watching his upper body go bare and you averted your eyes out of decency. Although you both have seen each other on several particular nights, it was difficult to not feel sheepish looking at his nude figure when it looked as good as it did.

You heard the tumble of his boots against the floor and the rustling of bed sheets, and when you looked back to Sephiroth he had already crawled into his bedding. He sighed heavily as his head sank into his pillow, bringing one hand up to rub his weary eyes.

Feeling satisfied that he settled down, you readied to leave his room until your eyes landed on the lit lamp atop the nightstand beside his bed. Sparing him from turning it off himself, you walked over and reached to switch it off with a click. Glancing back at him one last time, you then again turned away to leave him to his deserved rest. At least, you attempted to leave.

You were stopped when Sephiroth murmured your name, and within an instant he had grabbed your wrist and pulled you down. The sudden action made you yelp as you lost balance and fell on top of him. With his other hand going to your lower back, you were pulled even lower until Sephiroth connected your lips together. It had transpired so quickly you could only stay shocked in place, but as your hand rested against his chest and his vibrant eyes fluttered shut you too melted into the moment. Soft lips moved languidly against yours and, pressing closer to deepen the kiss, you forgot why you had brought Sephiroth back to his room. You tilt your head and let his tongue greet yours enthusiastically, feeling his fingers dig into your back while you tangled one hand into his silky hair. Even while on edge of sleep, the arrogant bastard still found the energy to reel you in.

After a minute you broke away to catch your breath and gaze at Sephiroth. Despite your mouth now being free, you felt breathless looking down at him. His pale skin had become painted with the faintest shade of blush and his endless silver hair gathered around his head. If angels roamed the Planet, he would be living proof of it. At this close proximity, your skin ached to tenderly feel him and worship his being. You resisted, favoring to await for his next move.

Sephiroth's chest rose and fell slowly beneath you, unaffected by your weight over him. He moved his hand up to kindly touch your cheek, thumb gliding over the skin as you leaned into his palm.

"Stay," Sephiroth muttered. A soft command.

You eyes darted across his face in a daze as one half of your brain, now fogged with thoughts of Sephiroth, fought against the other half that brought him to his room in the first place. "Don't you need to sleep?"

He chuckled. "Don't get too excited. I will. I haven't been able to properly rest for some time now, but I believe having a comforting presence beside me might help change that."

Your heart raced at Sephiroth's request. This was the most vulnerable he was offering himself to be with you, and it made your soul grow warm in a way that paled any passionate moment you two had shared together. You nodded slowly and moved to slide under the blankets and join him. His arms opened, inviting you in, and you nestled yourself into his embrace comfortably. Your cheek pressed against his pectorals as his arms closed around you, securing you against his large frame. Sephiroth relaxed, releasing a sigh, and pressed his face into the top of your head, soft breathes tickling you. You wondered if you might overheat from the combined warmth of the blankets and Sephiroth's body against your clothed flesh. You did not dare move an inch, though.

Exhaustion dragged Sephiroth quickly into a deep slumber, but you remained awake in his arms. The steady beat of his heart in your ears, a reminder of the powerfully graceful man, was too loud for you to even think of drifting away. So you laid there, watching and letting him hold you close, as if you would ward off unseen evils. Funny that Sephiroth would need any protection. Sephiroth: the relentless First-Class who has never bled on the battlefield. He who could be mistaken as something other than human; a personal toy soldier for Shinra to use in their grand game. But he was human. After all...

Those silent tears that graced his sleeping face were the loudest expression of pain you had ever seen.

[thebearme]

Got any re8 Heisenberg headcanons? (I definitely am so normal about him)

Don't worry, I'm completely normal about him too.

Ethan works with Karl to stop Miranda, but they aren't exactly friends after that, but they learn to like each other.

Chris was originally was going to put Karl into the military as a living bioweapon, but with enough convincing. Ethan got him to just let stay with him and Rose. They're roommates now.

Karl is thankful for Ethan to help him avoid that fate, but he is still frustrated on how his life is in someone's hand. Now he has to listen to Ethan or run the risk of being killed or weaponized. So the anger is the living arrangement is mutual.

Karl tends to be untrusting of everyone, like a feral stray dog. So Karl stays in the basement and minds his business.

Ethan and Mia had a mutual divorce, The relationship was built on rocky ground, and they understand that. But what Mia doesn't understand is why Ethan would have this moldy hobo live with him, and frankly- he doesn't know either.

Karl was a stinky man. His hands are rough and dry, chipped sharp nails that seem to always have something underneath them despite that fact of him wearing gloves most of the time. He covered in a layer of grease, sweat and car oil, smells like copper, gasoline, sweat, cigars, rain dew and a hint of mold and rot. LOVEY ISN'T IT! A sensory overload dream. His hair WILL make a crunchy noise if touched, and don't bother trying to comb through it.

Ethan made sure that his mf got a shower with some actual soap. He may look the same but trust in the fact if you were in a room with him, you'll actually be able to hug him without getting high from the gasoline.

Karl's hair gets so fluffy when conditioned.

It took months before Ethan trusted Karl in watching Rose or let alone hold her.

Karl LOVES sweets.

He originally didn't know about Home Depot because Ethan was worry that there will quickly be no Home Depot.

There's no longer a Home Depot.

Heisenberg will melt when he hears Rose's first words.

The day that Heisenberg finds out what a Samsung fridge is- IT'S OVER!

Heisenberg lived off of military ration meals till now, so he has to resort to the next best thing here: hungry man TV dinners. And kid cuisine when Rose goes into solid food.

HE CAN COOK! To be particular, grill. But he's kinda going through that depression that led you to not take care of himself.

Karl HATES the rain, It rusts all his metal, and he is in content risk of getting struck by lightning, He's a living lightning rod. Ethan tries to be nice and help him by giving him a rubber rain suit, leading him to wear three layers of protection: fishing overalls, rain boots, raincoat, rubber gloves, rain hat and a rubber poncho.

You can hear him from a mile away with all that rubber squeaking.

Heisenberg surprisingly was a virgin for a long time, and it makes sense. He was too busy in his factory to be with anyone romantically nor platonically, let alone get laid. He never really cared till he thought about it now, especially when Ethan has living proof that he fucked. *CUT TO FUNNY KARL SPEED DATING SEQUENCE* this is probably a very sharp contrast to others hc of karl but idc it's my hc

Heisenberg and Ethan have that opposite attract dynamic, Karl gets to teach him that life doesn't end or need to be tense just because they're mole zombies. While Ethan teaches Karl to unpack his years trauma, cuz that shit will come to haunt you.

Ethan found some room for Heisenberg to sleep upstairs instead.

Eventually Ethan gets so close with Heisenberg he actually starts calling him by his first name.

That was noticed by Mia and Chris, which made them nervous in where Ethan loyalty would lie when something were to happen.

Heisenberg never had clean water before, so just imagine him with the crisp 3am water.

Chris only allows Karl to experience the outside monthly. But Ethan sneaks Karl with him when he can. As long, he doesn't scare anyone in town.

Karl is like a caveman entering the present day, He's culture shock is out of this world.

He loves the phrase "metal as fuck."

When Karl has a nightmare he rearrange his room to push all the metal out or nap in the living room. When Karl and Ethan got closer he started sleeping in Ethan's room. Even though their hearts beat slow, the human warmth is still there.

Karl never wants to talk about what his nightmare was about or why he feels better sleeping in a room with less metal.

Here some songs that I always relate to Heisenberg:

Now I'm about to go into what my hc is for Heisenberg before re8.

tw body horror and child abuse

I have the headcanon that Karl wasn't from the village, but his family was. He was born in the states and unknowingly has the genes that make him very susceptible to the mold mutation. Eventually, after his grandfather died and passed the factory/mines to his parents, they all moved to Europe. Explaining the contrasting transatlantic accent.

But like all things, Miranda had to ruin. She noticed the newcomers of the village; she saw how they also have a child and decided to take action. Miranda killed Karl Heisenberg's parents and took him in to experiment on with the cadou parasite.

His gift was unknown till one check up later after all of his complaints of feeling of something tearing into him. Miranda realized that there seems to be scraps of metal like nuts and bolts dug and tear through into his body to his bones like a magnet.

When he's in is REM sleep, his electromagnet powers moves and attract scraps of metal to him. Leaving him to wake up with blood on his sheets, but the wound already healed like nothing happened. But Karl does know it feels harder to move every day.

Miranda made sure to test him on his gift. He looks completely human and is powerful, he was almost perfect… The one single flaw in him is the fact that even as a helpless child that had no one else to rely on but her. He still hated her.

Heisenberg was the youngest of the four lords and the favorite, and he hated it. Dude would just spend all his time by himself, leaving himself tape recorders. He eventually started to entertain himself as if he was a radio host. The theater kid possesses him.

Eventually when he got older he got into contact with The Duke and was able to purchase tapes and machinery scraps from him. The tapes turned out to be American documents of ww2, leading Heisenberg to his American freedom fighter rhetoric.

When he detransform from his big monster form, he has to go get a lil help. He has to get rid of the pieces of metal without just tearing off pieces of his flesh, That shit is hard to grow back you know!

[legs-like-jelly]

I just saw the cutest art of Sentinel Prime stuck in a wall and I have to make a tickle story about it!

Sentinel got trapped in a wall somehow and starts screaming for someone to get him unstuck. Airacnid comes around to notice Sentinel screaming while inside a wall. She tries to pull him out of the wall with her spider legs but they somehow aren't strong enough to pull him out. And instead, Sentinel is making these faint giggle noises. Airanid starts to get an idea. She lightly tickles Sentinel on the back of his thighs and she starts to hear his giggles. She smiles and continues tickling his soft but muscular thighs. She starts to notice that Sentinel's thighs are extremely ticklish and he's squealing like a sparkling right now. She starts to tease him about it through the wall saying stuff like " I would never expect this out of you, Sentinel" and "Oh I think found your sweet spot"

Sentinel is just helpless to stop her and can only keep giggling and laughing helplessly. While she's tickling his thighs without mercy. She starts to get an idea. She grabs his foot and starts to tickle his heels without question. Sentinel is nothing but a pile of giggles stuck in the wall right now. He knows he can't do anything but laugh. Airanid giggles with him. She smiles about how cute yet ridiculous this entire thing is. While she's tickling his pedes. His heel thrusters start to turn on a little bit. She gets an idea about how to get him unstuck. She starts to tickle his pedes vigorously and tease him more. Sentinel keeps laughing and pleading with her to stop. His legs are kicking back and forth. Only when she starts to tickle the cybertronion equivalent to his toes. She notices that he's breaking the wall he's in by how much he's thrashing and squirming. She ramps up the pace hoping that if he breaks the wall enough he can get out. And with one more tickle at his heel. Sentinel launches himself out of the wall with his shoe thrusters. She giggles under her breath at the sight of him lying on the ground all tuckered out and gasping for air. She walks over to him picks him up and takes him to his throne room.

Airanid: I'm glad I could help you, Sir.

Sentinel: Don't mention it.

Airanid walks off and giggles. And would continue to think about the cute but insanely ridiculous situation they had.

Sorry if this is way too long to answer!

i know exactly which one of my besties is gonna like this.....they know who they are..come get ur sentinel food.. now if it were up to ME, i would make sure that bitchass was stuck for even longer in that wall idc he needs to be taught a lesson-

if it were up to me, i would keep torturing him, i would fucking get that mech in his seams and on the back of his knees DO U HEAR ME CHAT- and i would only let him out if he admitted his wrongdoings(which he never will)

[readreactrant]

"Love, or Something Ignites" might just be the best goyuu fic ever!!! let me explain!!! (Thoughts and Review)

Some quick context but cuz this review was already going to be pretty long without my flashback sequence so pls scroll down to the red text if you don't want to hear my history of opinions with JJK and its ships.

I've been deep in the goyuu tag since the beginning of the year, which I found kind of strange at first since I watched S1 way back in 2022 and did not give much of af about the whole show.

I kicked my feet a bit at SukuFushi,  tried to like it more, and even searched out a couple of fics but they just weren't giving AT ALL.

At the start of 2023 I watched jjk 0 and I was kinda hyped to get back into the show, but my shipping heart still ached for something to latch onto so I went on AO3 and picked up the first fic I found. Surprise, surprise, it was a goyuu fic featuring role reversal. I wouldn't say I liked it but it did tickle something in my brain I would have explored if I wasn't neck deep in my bakudeku era at the time.

Then S2 happened and it all just sorta clicked for me. Before then I'd mainly been a SukuIta believer, I didn't frequent their fics but I DID gobble up their twincest doujins like I was starved when I had the time. 2nd cour of S2 coming out practically sealed Goyuu for me, I'd always felt there was a bit of something I saw between them but Yuuji screaming out for Gojo in that last frame...just...*chef's kiss*

I didn't go back to rewatch S1 where a majority of their reactions were like some diehard fans would but the clips and screencaps I've come across now and again are enough to solidify for me that yes! They are made for each other!! (Hope the wrong stsg fans don't find this ◉‿◉)

I'd really love to go on and on about their dynamic but this was supposed to be about my February fic of the month, "Love, or Something Ignites" by lainebee.

Like I said, I've been deep in the tags and the only others I think that come close to this one are "No Sanctuary" by eddie01 and both world's sequels.

Now I'm not saying there aren't other good ones, like I'm just halfway through the hundred and something AO3 pages of their ship tag, so there's a lot I've yet to see. Still, this is a sorta subjective review and I just hope to spread the word of this masterpiece and maybe meet others who've read it so we can fan together in the comments.

(Now that's all out of the way, there will be mild spoilers and also warnings for; omegaverse, mpreg, and voyeurism so let's hop to it (✿^‿^)

The fic is set in a historical Japan au where Yuuji and Sukuna are brothers, with Sukuna being much older and ruling over a kingdom in the south. Thing is, he's constantly at war with the Gojo clan cuz these two mfs are just built like that in every verse. Shit happens and they come to a truce and as a sign of goodwill Sukuna offers Yuuji, his recently presented omega brother, as a gift (I honestly thought Yuuji was like 16 or 17 but he's 19 so like whatever idc (╥﹏╥)

"So what's the problem?" you might ask, well aside from the obvious marriage of convenience plot, Gojo doesn't give a fuck, he's still hung up on Geto (kinda tho, it's complicated but they aren't in love) and he's pretty much intended to go through it for show.

But that's not the end; not only do our boys have no feelings for each other and have never even met, but THING IS... Sukuna has demanded a public consummation cuz he's a bastard like that and we love him for it. Worry not there's no fucking on a stage for everyone to watch...just fucking in a 'room' for a handful of witnesses to watch from behind those dresser screen things (vocab not working lol).

The fic is definitely kinda long and tho there are some slow-burn vibes a lot of it essentially takes place in ONE FUCKING DAY. My first assumptions going into this were, "pacing issues???" and "oh the author is going to either insta love them, make them fuck and spend the rest of the fic doing fluff, or they will fuck with some angst then spend the rest falling in love."

Color me surprised when yeah, they did fuck but that was one or two chapters from the last of about nine.

You expect this kind of shit to feel rushed as fuck but the writing is so fucking divine that you never feel like putting it down. There's always so much going on but time is never wasted dwelling on one subject for too long, it's fast, it's funny, and the characters and setting are constantly giving the energy you know and love from the original show but probably two times better.

One of the things I noticed a few GoYuu writers struggle with is accurately reflecting Gojo cuz he's actually an enigma and arguably one of the most complex characters in the show with a broad range of emotions. He doesn't particularly fit one kind of vibe whereas for everyone else you can pick one or something close to it. Gojo on the other hand goes from one end of the spectrum to the other pretty quickly and that's super hard to capture and explore, especially when it comes to the shorter smutty fics (Not complaining too much tho, I live for the E rating.)

I love the direction the author chose to go with him, and it feels so true to his character, his immature but his teasing doesn't feel over the top or come off as exaggerated. His status as the strongest is just told but shown to us with the way he behaves and I like that we get instances of him getting work done despite knowing he's a rebel. It reminds us that yeah, he's working to make the clan the way he wants but he's just going along with what he has to in true Gojo fashion.

Yuuji, is totally something else, it's implied that he actually killed people...and I don't think we got a paragraph of him feeling guilt over it but that's somewhere toward the end so forget it. Yuuji is the absolute sweetest here and I adore every scene he's in along with how bratty he tends to be with Gojo. It's not frequent and most of the time he's pretty respectful but when he's not...Yeah. His inner thoughts and his conversations with most of the other characters really bring life to the story and you literally feel you're right there with him through it all.

Then there's the smut...oh. my. fucking. GOD. It's absolutely delicious. If you were iffy about it being omegaverse, I beg you to actually consider it cuz all probably more than four thousand words of it are fucking precious.

I had no idea I'd be into sex with some commentary when I began reading but the conversation from the characters picked was spot on and even added to the spicyness.

My favorite part is when Yuuji moans like a fucking pornstar and the zenin guy (forgot his disgusting ass name) goes "The boy is a whore."

Like boohoo bitch just say you wish you were getting all that, I wish I was (╥﹏╥)

If you're still iffy about the Omegaverse trust me it's not that big of a deal, the focus is mainly on Gojo and Yuuji trying to find some mutual ground to get on so the consummation isn't fucking awkward but by talking, joking, and getting to know each other something even more starts to blossom.

There are definitely traces of insta love but I personally see it as a weird mixture of attraction and possessiveness but this book is just like the prelude to the main course which is the second part in the series which I'm not done with yet but fucking hell...all the intrigue and tension that you will find in Love, or Something Ignites, gets doubled with more angst and mystery in the second fic, along with goyuu being stupid as well as stupidly in love.

So give it a try, and if you have, let me know what you think. I'd usually say where the tiny flaws are but for this book there are none...unless you count Yuta being Maki's mate instead of Rika's but that's my personal hill to die on. Let me know if there's a fic you want me to write about and I'll maybe get to it

Well, that's all from me today, it's 3 am and I'm fucking exhausted.

[not-your-bro]

do you have any ud hcs? It could be anything idc

ooh, free rein! sure sure. josh + chris are def the characters i most frequently rotate in my mind, so some stuff about them off the top of my head...

josh

film studies major. i must admit i don't adhere to the psych major he's given in canon, though director/producer roles aren't my first choice for him either. he goes all-in on tangible stuff for his prank, so i put him in the practical effects arena.

artist in his spare time, but big surprise he's cagey about it. like, chris sees josh's sketchbook in josh's room all the time, but he's never actually looked inside.

with both movie sfx + art, josh is practical > digital, and he only dips into digital effects or art when he absolutely needs to. i just think he's a tactile sort of guy who prefers to make things with his hands, so creating on a screen alone doesn't give him the same satisfaction.

on social media in that he has accounts, but they're sporadically active at best. he can be slow to respond to texts/dms and his responses can be short, which gives off the impression that he's disengaged or bored. he isn't, he just doesn't want to be on his phone.

this is a longstanding hc of mine that i've absolutely mentioned before, but: designed hannah's butterfly tattoo! didn't really understand why, he was like you know your tattoo artist can do one for you, right. but she insisted, and he obliged.

gay as fuck. realized young, came out young, very comfortable. as demonstrated by the fact that, much to everyone's annoyance, he wears shirts that say shit like 'employee of the month at the dick sucking factory' in public.

chris

ok, so i've reached the point where the chris in my mind looks different enough that i get a little jumpscared when i see him in-game LMAO. i hc him both taller and heavier. he's gotta be at least 6 ft. and a chris hartley who's thin is no chris hartley at all. not to me.

does not come from money, like lower middle class. i have two totally different hcs about his family that both feel real to me: one is that he's an only child, his parents divorced when he was a kid (old enough to understand, but not quite a teenager), and he lives with his mom. the other is that his parents are not divorced, and he has a big family - lots of siblings. i've been going with the former in my fic lately, but both work for me. the constant is that his family's economic situation is more precarious than most people in the friend group, and family trips with (and funded by) the washingtons were his primary vacations.

has adhd. i find 'always on his phone bc he just loooves technology' less interesting than 'always on his phone bc he has existing attention problems.' this went undiagnosed for a while, and his performance in school suffered for it.

speaking of, he is not all-around school smart. like, emily may have strengths and weaknesses (even if she'd never admit them), but she can swing As across the board. chris cannot. he's getting good grades in classes that interest him or cater to his solution-oriented brain, but he's terrible in any class where there's no right answer. english, art - he does not get it. love him to death but his media literacy is Bad

bi as fuck, but it was a journey. thought he was straight for a long time, dismissing any attraction to men as a 'who hasn't had gay thoughts' kind of thing. i think it took him a while to come to terms with it bc he had a lot of internalized shit to work through. if a friend came out as bi, he'd have been like cool 👍 but him? surely not! he got there eventually though.

wowee this is long. as a lil bonus hc for another character, i'll add that i don't think jess went to college - i think she went to a hair/beauty school. she loves what a social job it is, getting to chit chat with clients all day, and like josh, she does best when she's working with her hands.

[xxrhxysxx]

Heyyyyy saw ur requests were open for ghost can I get like reader(gn or fem idc) x Simon where like reader needs to borrow a shirt for whatever reason (idk it got ruined or something) and Simon ends up giving them one and they wear it around the safe house or around the others and bro goes feral idk just a thot

Thx

(hopefully smut but totally get it if not thx)

Him giving you his shirt is so baby girl of himΨ(≧ω≦)Ψ also thank you for requesting, sorry this took oh so long ☆

.

Simon(Ghost) Riley giving you his shirt

Gn reader x Simon Riley

. Warnings: sugestive, swearing,

(Sub coded!)Simon

.

. It had been really busy around the safe house in an attempt to calm down you made yourself cup of hot chocolate and were ready to head back to your room, on the way back bumped into Gaz who was play fighting with Soap, that causes you to spill the hot chocolate all over yourself, lucky you it wasn't hot but warm.

.

When you first knock on Simons door and ask for a shirt he's confused and flustered, he gives you the shirt and tells you you don't have to give it back, little did he know that this decision was the cause of soon to be problems. The next day when he woke up and came to the kitchen to make some tea the first thing he saw was you with a coffee in hand "good morning" you said but instead of replying he just looked at you, it made you nervous he stared at you a lot but this time it was different, it was intense, hungry almost, he had to snap himself out of the trance he was in, "good morning" his voice was a bit breathy and small. he was sweating trying not to say how good you look in his shirt, how much he wants to kiss you, despite how awkward the silence is you graciously excuse yourself from the room and go to the rest of the team. Whilst talking with the others soap points out how hard ghost is staring at you but decide to ignore it. Later that evening everyone decides to go out to a bar you decline because you aren't a big fan of drinking, while making yourself a cup another of hot chocolate since you didn't really get to enjoy the first one you spot a figure out of the corner of your eye you turn around to see Simon staring at you again but this time you decide to say something "Is there something wrong with how I look? This the the 3rd time I've caught you looking at me" he doesn't respond but you can tell he heard you after a few seconds pass you hear heavy foot steps that stopped right behind you. You turn around to Simon abnormally close you give him a look that hints at him to move, he scoots back a bit and with a apologetic look in his eyes " I'm sorry. I didn't mean to stare " it's quiet , barely audible "It's fine... Can I know why you're staring at me so much? " there's a pause, you can tell he wants to say something, but he's not, it frustrates you almost because you two have history, you both joined at the same time, you trained together, hell he had stayed over at your house a few times, you weren't besties but he could at least tell you why he was staring. After a few seconds you go back to making your hot chocolate "If you won't tell me it's fine. I'm just curious that's all" "It's just... you look really good in my shirt" he looks away from you, fidgeting with his hands you can tell he more to say than that but you don't push "Is that a bad thing? " you spoke "No but the things I'm thinking about doing to you are" you're in shock you never took Simon for the kind of guy to get hard from you wearing his clothes. You feel heat run though your whole body, you start to sweat as he steps closer to you he won't look at you though and to look into his eyes is the only thing you need right now. "Simon look at me please" he obeys "If you want me I'm yours but I need you to tell me exactly what you need ok? " "Okay" you guide as him to his room. As you both lay on his bed you can hear his heartbeat get louder, and you notice him sweating "are you nervous" you speak "a bit yeah" "why" he looks away as if he Hiding something. "I've wanted to do this for a while but I never thought I'd get the chance" he whispers. "Well now you have the chance so show me how much you wanted this".

.

.

. Once again I'm so so sorry that I took so long I just couldn't find the motivation to write but I hope you enjoyed and again thank you for requesting 🤎☆

[misery-has-no-company-now]

HELLO :)

It's been a while since New York received any love, so may I request any New York headcanons you may have? :3

*pls don't feel forced to answer this! <3*

Omg you are absolutely right the most loveable rat boy hasn't gotten enough love in a while ):

Time to change that!

[Using your idea of these four being brothers for this post though I do love me a good Yorksey fic (not incest!!)]

He loves cuddles, even if he pretends he doesn't. Mass, Jersey, and Cut will just see him standing there and whoosh! Grab him by the waist as quickly as they can and create a hug pile wherever they are at the moment - couch, bed, floor, basement filled with tiny children [/j], doesn't matter (they can lift him up easily because he may be tall but he's a thin bean pole okay <33 He's like if you stretch pizza dough too long and get thin pizza sticks)

All pigeons and rats love him. He can be anywhere outdoors and one of them is bound to approach him and nuzzle him lovingly because he deserves it (: Also crows. You know how they collect shiny objects and bring them to people they like? Yeah...Yorkie has quite a collection because of this now <33

Speaking of giving people gifts, my headcannon is that New York was a mentor as well as a semi-father figure to IDC because hey most of the UN bodies aren't in the state of New York for no reason okay. She regularly brings him fancy and exotic gifts from the countries she visits. I bet New York is one of those people obsessed with expensive pens or watches; and she really really indulges him with those. He deserves nice things okay (:

Yorkie is a very huggable person. You agree, very easy to hug. And since I hc that most of the NE helped raise the Western States - or at least make them accustomed to the US - Yorkie, Jersey, and surprisingly even Mass [Cut was more of helping the governmental organisations at this time] are very parental to the West; which is why if it is an especially bad rainy day for Washington, you might find him in the corner of the living room gripping onto New York's hoodie like a bird attached to its last feather. And California is practically attached to York's hip. Enough said. Some people say New York is a magnet that attracts and strongly sticks to the metal Cal is. Yorkie is just very loveable okay <33

Anyway, my brain isn't braining much right now because my stitches are being mean to me ): but that's the best I could come up with at the moment. Hope you enjoy!

[rzyraffek]

Hey umm are you still doing people requests? Umm can i request about Billy lenz,michael myers,the sinclair brothers,and Jason with a bassist s/o? i mean like s/o can play a bass or a guitar!! like that, im sorry if its too hard for you and sorry for my bad english

Im still doing requests!! And I will for long while! I never played any indtrument but I did my best. Also your English is great! (And sorry for long wait) Request open

Slashers with guitarist s/o

Billy Lenz

Lisening to gossip and drama all day might sound cool, but it isn't lol. Imagine sitting in attic and the only things you can hear is some girls talking shit 24/7

So yeah when he hears music he is more than intrested

This guy never was huge music fan but oh boi its good to hear something new

Gonna sneak into s/o room and play with guitar 100%

If s/o is a professional player and has some sort of medals/rewards im sure he gonna steal some frf

Micheal myers

Guy was in hospital for 30years i doubt he heard anyone play in real life. Maybe in radio or guard himming but omg its been long time since he saw somone do it irl

My guy is gonna stalk the hell out of them

When they are in relationship He gonna just grab guitar and bring it to them and stare. He wanna hear you play so much😭😭

Doesnt understand that most guitars aren't made out of super strong materials and he probably step on it few times or trow it at them for no reason. So they either have to buy new ones or scod him so much he never goes near that thing again

Vincent

He just gonna sit there awkwardly, enjoying the music😊😊

Loves it!

Wants s/o to teach him! He is a fast learner! Pls!!

Will beg them to play his favourite songs (dude looks like my chemical romance fan)

If s/o plays some slow calm songs he will acually fall asleep to it

Bo sinclair

Hes not big music fan tbh

Guy will say "oh? Cool cool" and move with his life

But he likes to have backround noise when he does stuff so he won't mind them just vibing with guitar while he does he work

After a while it kinda gets in his routine to lisen them play so he might acually come around once or twice asking them to continue

Lester Sinclair

Omg THE VIBE

Imagine IMAGINE JUST driving on empty road in Forest, great vibes, and nice guitar. Man it sounds amazing!

He gonna sing to it frfr. Does he know what theyare playing? No. Does it stop him from singing some random lyrics? No

Will tell them all complements in the word. That he never heard such amazing play or that he could fall in love with them again if he could ect ect idc

He gonna flex to bo and vince. Like: watch this yo shes soo good with that guitar

Jason Voorhees

I can imagine how they met really

S/o just trying to vibe on trip, having casual walk in Forest, they decide to have lil break and sit down and maybe play a little. And this precious bean hears it and is soso curious and he just ends up standing behind them lisening to them play for like good 10minutes untill they either see him and evaluate or just leave without even noticing

Pls this guy doenst even care about killing at this point, pls play more rn!!!! Please?

I can see this guy accidenlty kidnapping them and just giving them guitar and probably panicking as much as them tbh😭😭😭

But the best vibe is when s/o and Jason just sit next to campfire and vibe. He plays with their hair/makes flower crowns while they play guitar

[fionajames]

pre-christophosis

idk what to title this. (Edit: ive titled it now obvi)

it's basically about rex's life mostly pre-christophosis. ive been staring at wookiepedia for the past ten minutes and i've just now decided i'm going to use a mix of canon and legends content so if you thing something is factually wrong (and a lot will be) then your right, but im not spending two hours delving through old comics.

doing research it states as though arc troopers were made only after seeing battle, but idc, so rex and cody were made before they ever left kamino.

this is for @taylorswiftscar, i really hope this lives up to your expectations. if you (somehow) like it, i could do a part 2???

also, btw, most clone trooper numbers here are ones i made up. i googled each to make sure they wont real troopers but if they are, sorry.

warnings: death, mentions of war, war, fighting, battles, fight training.

CT-7567 reached a hand up to touch his short, soft blonde hair yet again, staring into the mirror with a shattered expression.

Why does my hair have to be different? He thought glumly, slowly running his fingers through the short hairs with glossy eyes. CT-7567 used his other hand to gently play with the ends of his cadet uniform - a blue tunic over a red long-sleeved top and red pants held close to his torso with a black belt.

Around him, the other cadets busied themselves with pulling on their own clothes, the room filled with quiet chatter and the sound of their black boots hitting the floor.

"You alright there, 7567?" A voice called and the blonde clone turned to his brother - who of course shared the same tan skin and hazel brown eyes but had his own cropped brown hair. CT-4826 gave him a soft smile before grabbing him by the wrist and pulling him along the hallway. "Let's go, 7567! I want to be first!"

-

"Did you hear?!" CT-7567 turned to see the other clone cadet - unique only for his shaggy dark hair - as he scurried across the silver floor to their bunks.

"What?!" CT-4826 called from the bunk above CT-7567, leaning down to hear better.

"I heard that CT-3383 went out in the rain and fell into the waters!" CT-4526 exclaimed quietly and CT-7567 shrank back in his bed, closer to the wall and further from the tales. "I heard he got eaten by the sea serpent!"

CT-7567 shuddered at the thought of the huge, mysterious creature supposedly lurking in Kamino's dark waters. CT-7567 wasn't afraid of much, but the tales he heard about the serpent made him shiver.

"Oh shut up, 4526," CT-4826 complained, rolling his eyes. "The sea serpents aren't real."

"Yes they are!" CT-4526 replied with a frown, a flicker of hurt playing at his features. "Stop lying, 4826! The Kaminoans said their real!"

"The only sea serpent here is you!" Another cadet giggled from across the room, darting over to the bunk and tackling CT-4526 to the ground. "You should be called Serpent!" The two cadets rolled around on the floor for a bit as CT-7567 turned to face the wall, pulling the sheets over his head and cowering.

-

CT-7567 watched as CT-3383 walked back into the barracks days later, smiling sheepishly as he held his left arm - which was tightly bandaged from his elbow to thumb.

"3383!" CT-7567 cheered as the cadet waddled in, racing over and hugging the brunette's right side tightly - although carefully not touching his left. "You're okay!"

"Why wouldn't I be?" He asked with a tilt of his head and CT-4826 scoffed.

"4526 over hear thought a sea serpent got you" CT-4826 explained, turning to face the cadet with a disappointed look.

CT-4526's bottom lip turned up in a pout as he clambered into his bunk to hide. "Not my fault," he grumbled. "One of the squad-cadets said he did."

The three other cadets exchanged worried glances before the blonde scrambled over to his brother. "It's alright, 4526." He told him, draping an arm over his shoulders. "I believe there really is a sea serpent, but at least 3383's here, ay?"

"Yeah."

-

"Watch your step, 4526!" CT-7567 cried out, slouching down behind the metal barrier to hide from the droids. He glanced at his armor, which was now scratched up from diving and rolling around the citadel training center.

"Go, 7567!" CT-3383 called out, CT-7786 peering out over his shoulder. "Make the run!"

CT-7567 nodded, sucking in a breath before rolling out to the side, racing along the metal floor to the tower. His shaking hand grasped the grappling hook attached to his belt and tossed it up, latching onto the wall.

Clambering up and up and up until finally he was over.

The blonde clone grabbed the staff and held it in the air, cheering as the droids deactivated.

-

"CT-7567 at your service, sir!" The blonde clone saluted, shoulders shaking slightly as he stared at the ARC Trooper in front of him.

"CC-2224 at your service, sir!" The clone next to CT-7567 announced. He was one of the 'classic'-looking clones - the ones with the tan skin, hazel eyes and short black hair. CT-7567 had never met him before this moment.

"At ease, troopers" the ARC Trooper told them, and both their stances relaxed ever so slightly. "I've been informed you both performed valiantly in your training and therefore are being prematurely promoted to ARC Troopers." CT-7567's face broke into a grin that he tried to hide. "My name is Alpha-17 and I'll be taking you for the next part of your training."

"CT-2224" the brunette clone introduced himself again and so CT-7567 did the same, frowning when Alpha-17 shook his head in dissapointment.

"What are your names, boys? Not your numbers," Alpha-17 asked and CT-7567 bit his lip.

"My name is my number" he told the ARC Trooper hesitantly, and CC-2224 nodded in agreement.

"Well, we'll just have to get you names."

-

"2224!" CT-7567 cried out with a grin, lunging towards the clone and wrapping his arms around him. "That shot was amazing!"

"Your tactic was too, 7567!" The brunette exclaimed, punching his brother's arm softly.

"You two make a great team," Alpha-17 told them with a proud grin. "Maybe to greater a team."

-

"7567! 2224! Come here!" Alpha called from the other end of the barracks, and the two younger clones scurried to meet him. "I've decided on names for both of you, if you like them."

CT-7567 nodded eagerly, jumping from foot to foot in excitement. CC-2224 was in a similar state, bouncing up and down. Individually was something clones weren't usually recognized for, and having an individual name was startling.

"2224," Alpha began, looking him directly in the eyes. "I dub you... Cody."

CC-2224, no, Cody beamed with joy, happiness radiating off of him in huge, endless waves. "I love it, thank you Alpha!"

The older clone gave him a gentle smile before turning to the patiently waiting blonde. "And 7567! I dub you, Rex."

-

"You ready to go, Rex?" Alpha asked, gently placing a hand on the Arc Trooper's back. Rex nodded, breathing in deeply and letting his adrenaline take over.

"Yes, sir!" He told him confidently, rolling his shoulders back as he switched the hand gripping the handle of the gunship. It wobbled in the air slightly before making a backwards motion. They were landing.

"Good luck, kid" his brother told him gently. "K'oyacyi!" Alpha patted his back one last time as the gunships doors opened and the clones around them filed out.

"K'oyacyi!" Rex called back, grasping his dual pistols - something he'd been allowed only recently but instantly loved - and rushing out into the sandy terrain of Geonosis.

hope y'all liked that! (to anyone actually reading this)

K'oyacyi means 'hang in there' or 'come back alive' or 'stay alive' in Mando'a.

btw i haven't read over that so thats why there may be several mistakes...

Have a great day!

[bonkwosher]

Poly!Lacho x GN!Reader ~ Enemy Within

A/N: Cheesy title? Lmao Idc. This is to go along with this pitch I made. I'm so excited to make it I have been planning this out in my head for days. Also, there simply aren't enough gifs with both Lalo & Nacho in them. I already know this is going to be long so you guys are getting a word count section LMAO. Side note: I may or may not have stolen the pet names Lalo & Nacho give the reader from @asgardianangel03 (CHECK OUT THEIR LACHO X READER FIC IT INSPIRED EVERYTHING I WRITE) bc they fit so well.

Prompt: Lacho (Lalo x Nacho) x Reader where Lalo & Nacho live in a big home & eventually the reader either stays the night or ends up living with them. This is in the time when Lalo & Gus are going head to head & thanks to Mike, Gus knows about the reader. Gus orders his men to kidnap the reader, beat them up, then frees them & pretends to be a good samaritan that saves them & brings them home to Lalo & Nacho. Gus uses this to get into Lalo & Nacho's home to find out their plans & Lalo & Nacho, who haven't told the reader about their business, are freaking out that Gus is now basically the reader's best friend. ~ Yours Truly

Contains: Kidnapping, short mention of assault, blood, manipulation

Word Count: 3818 (I WENT CRAZY)

[Part 1] | Part 2

Lalo & Ignacio sat in the former's study, trying their best to keep their argues to a whisper. They had convinced you they were going on a business trip that night. Inconspicuous, easy, nothing could go wrong. That's what Lalo told his husband over & over but Ignacio would not hear it.

"Fring has to know about Y/N, you know what he'll do. I don't want to leave them here!" He whisper yelled, shoulders tense & clear fear in his eyes.

"Ignacio, it will be two nights alone & my men will be here. If you don't remember, you two are married to a cartel don (CANON AHH), my people will keep them safe."

Ignacio shushed his husband, stopping his blatant gloating. He had three things he wanted to protect, his father, his husband & their partner. Ignacio knew Y/N was in danger.

"You think Fring cares about the cartel!? YOUR UNCLE KILLED HIS BOYFRIEND!"

Lalo jumped up & covered Ignacio's mouth. You heard yelling from the living room where you had been waiting for your partners to finish discussing. It was incoherent but the volume alone scared you. You walked briskly over to Lalo's study & knocked on the door. Lalo opened the door enough to reveal his signature Lalo smile.

"Sí, querida?" He asked cheerily.

"Are you guys okay?" You asked, genuinely worried.

Ignacio pushed past Lalo, opening the door fully, & held your face in both hands, "Yes, ángel, we just had a disagreement about one of Lalo's restaurants, El Michoacáno."

Ignacio placed a kiss on your lips & gave you a soft & terribly convincing smile. You couldn't help but melt.

"What does Lalo want to do with El Michoacáno?" You asked, looking past Ignacio to see your other partner.

"He wants to abandon it," Ignacio glared back at Lalo before walking off into the kitchen.

"Abandon is a strong word, mi corazón!" Lalo chased after him.

Lalo grabbed Ignacio's arm & he whipped around, poking angrily at Lalo, "If they," Ignacio took a gulp, "If your business gets hurt... that's on you!"

Ignacio ripped his arm away from Lalo & went outside, likely to work out his emotions. He wanted to stay home with you, to keep you safe, but Lalo insisted that Ignacio had to join him for this meeting. Being asked to choose between his partners is impossible, so in the end he told Lalo this would be the one time he left Y/N home by themself. Lalo thanked him too many times to count & promised you would be safe.

In what feels like a whole different world, but really is just across town, Gustavo Fring was planning. His best man, Mike Ehrmantraut, sat across him at his desk inside a Los Pollos Hermanos restaurant. Mike placed a set of photos on the table & spread them out all facing his boss. Gus took a long moment to take all the details in. The images were all of you. You at work, you at home, you in your backyard, & you at dinner with Lalo & Ignacio. Gus pulled the last photo close to him & picked it up. The three of you looked so happy. Nacho sat next to you in the booth, you sitting next to the large window allowing a clear view of each one of you. You were all dressed nicely & waiting for your food. You held one of each of your partner's hands.

"This is their partner?" Gus asked with a monotone voice.

"Yes, as far as I can tell they have been together for a long time. Y/N lives with them down on acapulco drive."

"Put your men on the house, when you find the right moment... take them."

"Alright," Mike replied, standing up.

Gus waited for Mike to open the door before speaking, "If there are any witnesses, kill them. This needs to be foolproof."

That night, Lalo brought both his own & Ignacio's bags to his car. Their meeting would be tomorrow morning, they'd stay the night for one of Eladio's parties & bring him gifts, then return home the next night. He heaved the bags into the trunk then closed it while Ignacio gave you a tight hug.

"I love you so much, Y/N. I'll miss you every second," he spoke into your hair as he ran his hand through it.

It was oddly sentimental like it was the last time he was ever going to see you. You brushed it off knowing it was just a trip to one of Lalo's restaurants in Mexico. Lalo turned with a huge smile on his face & Ignacio beelined to the passenger side door, still upset with his husband. Lalo pulled you to him with an arm wrapped around your waist causing you to blush.

"We'll be home as soon as we can, querida," he promised genuinely.

"I hope so, I love you both. It's going to be hard by myself."

"You'll do fine, call us if you need anything."

With that Lalo took a step back, kissing down your arm. With each kiss, he got a bit further away from you until he reached your hand.

"I love you," he smirked, giving you one last kiss on the hand before heading to the car.

You watched them pull out of the driveway, Lalo putting a comforting hand on his husband's thigh which was inevitably swatted at. You could hear Lalo's, 'Aye! That hurt!' from his cracked window as they drove off, causing you to chuckle. You let out a yawn before heading inside, ready to go to sleep after a long day.

Mike, who had heard the whole conversation from his car parked a bit down the street, lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth, "Give it five minutes, if the coast is clear go in."

You got into some comfy clothes, one of Ignacio's shirts & Lalo's pants, & climbed into bed. You laid down in the middle of the large bed & pulled one of your partners' pillows to your chest. You already felt a bit sad that they were gone, letting out a soft sigh. It's okay, you'll make it. The door flung open causing you to lurch out of bed, four men with guns piled into the room pointing their guns & flashlights at you.

"What- Who are you?" Your voice trembled as you raised your arms above your heads.

One man walked up to you wordlessly & slammed his pistol into your head, effectively knocking you out. The man threw you over his shoulder & got behind two of the men, one behind him, & the group made their way out. They walked out of the house past a car with two of Lalo's men inside who were shot dead. You were bound & placed in the back of one of the cars that your assailants had come in. One of the men in the group left to dispose of the car & the bodies while the others headed off to Gus.

You woke up feeling immense pain in your forehead. You were trapped in a room with white walls & gray, concrete floors. You weren't bound any longer but you felt weak. You got up & walked to the door, turning the knob. It was locked. Panic raced through your body as you remembered the men in your home. You were kidnapped. They must have targeted you because they knew you were home alone, at least that's what you thought. A large, buff man entered the room & dragged you by the shirt into another room.

"No, please- don't do this," you begged as he grabbed your wrists, locking you into cuffs above your head.

"Shut up!" He grunted.

You obeyed, not wanting to get hurt any worse than he intended to hurt you. Hours & hours of grueling pain, you swore if there were windows it would be broad daylight by now. When the man uncuffed you, you fell to the floor. You couldn't bring yourself to stand up or even move, for that matter. He lifted you up to make you sit against the wall & pulled out a camera.

"Smile," he mocked before taking a picture, "Your husband is going to give me so much money for your dumbass."

A fabrication made to think you were just a ransom. Gus Fring had come up with such an intricate plan to weave himself into your life, it even scared Mike a little. Using you as a way to get into Lalo & Nacho's personal life with you on the verge of finding out about their real business as leverage, not to mention showing he could kill you if he wanted to. The man left the room, staring at his phone. He did exactly as he was told & left the door unlocked. Gus noticed, from behind a two-way mirror, that you had realized the door was unlocked.

"Nows your time to shine, Fring," the man walked into the adjacent room.

Gus nodded & walked out towards his car, turning it on & pulling out of the parking lot. You used all your strength to get up & hobble over to the door. You opened it & let out an airy laugh, you could escape this. You looked out into the hallway to see a door open to the outside, baiting you in that direction. You sprinted outside just as Gus pulled back into the parking lot. You begged him to open the door & he quickly leaned over & opened the passenger side door. You climbed in & ordered him to pull away. Once you couldn't see the plain white building in the distance you turned to Gus.

"Thank you so much."

"Are you okay?! What was that, why are you covered in blood?" Gus flawlessly put on a scared good samaritan act.

"I- this man took me. He- he-" You began to feel really dizzy.

"Are you alright, do we need to go to the hospital?"

"I- I think I'll be..." You fell forward, going limp.

Amazingly, just as Gus planned. He turned around & right back to the building. His man met him at the passenger side door & carried you inside & into a separate room. Dr. Barry Goodman, his doctor from Mexico, was flown in just for this to work. The man rested you on the hospital bed & Dr. Goodman gave you meds to knock you out. He watched the torture that you had been through, instructing the man to stop when he thought you'd be close to losing enough blood to pass out. Now he had to patch you up. He placed you on your back & peeled back your shirt, knowing you'd be in immense pain if you were awake. This was going to be a lot of work.

In Mexcio, around the time the doctor finished patching you up, Ignacio & Lalo were preparing for Don Eladio's party. Ignacio paced the room wiping sweat off his face.

"Qué ocurre, mi corazón? (What's wrong, my heart?)" Lalo asked as he buttoned his shirt.

"No respondieron a mis mensajes de texto (They did not respond to my texts)," Ignacio spoke softly, worry coursing through his veins.

Lalo grabbed Ignacio's shoulders & put on a reassuring smile, "¡Todo está bien! Estoy seguro de que están demasiado ocupados divirtiéndose (Everything is fine! I'm sure they are just too busy having fun)."

"¿Llamaste a tus hombres? (Did you call your men?)" Ignacio looked deep into Lalo's eyes, looking for either hope or comfort.

"Sí, sí, Ignacio. ¡Dijeron que nuestra querida está bien! (Yes, yes, Ignacio. They said our darling is fine!)" Lalo reassured his husband, pulling him into a hug, "You're too paranoid, go get dressed."

"Alright, te quiero (I love you)," Ignacio sighed before turning to his suitcase.

Lalo pulled out his phone feeling fear finally hit him. His men hadn't responded. He thought they were just ignoring his texts, he refused to believe any worse. He began furiously typing, 'Idiotas, contesten su teléfono. Necesito una actualización sobre la seguridad de mi pareja. (You idiots, answer your phone. I need an update on my partner's safety.)"

You woke up to the sound of a heart monitor beeping. You saw Gus on the other side of the small room, seemingly giving a police officer a summary of what happened to you. When the man dressed as a cop noticed you were awake, he walked to your side.

"Hello, Mx. can you tell me your name?"

"Y/N L/N."

"I'm sorry that we had to meet on such circumstances, Mx. L/N, but I need to know anything you know about the man that kidnapped you."

You told the man everything you remembered down to the mole on the guy's cheek. You noted the color of the building on the outside & any small detail that came to mind. The man nodded as you rambled, writing down the things you said.

"Alright, thank you Mx. L/N. We will find this man & bring him to justice. I have given Mr. Fring my number & I'll get you updates on the case through him."

You nodded & thanked the man, his weird method of communication made sense in your drugged up stupor. The doctor took the officer's place with a small bottle in hand. Gus walked to your other side.

"The doctor said you can go home after he gives you the medication you were prescribed. If you tell me where you live, I can drive you home."

"Umm, 712 Acapulco Drive. I don't have my keys but I think there's a spare key hidden under a rock," you blabbed.

"Mx. L/N, I'm going to give you some pain medication. They're going to make you really sleepy, alright? Then your new friend Gus will take you home," the man tried to make light of the situation while giving you Fring's name.

You nodded, feeling the meds hit you seconds later. You laid back in your hospital bed & let yourself fall asleep, believing you were in safe hands now. By the time Gus got you home it was late at night & Lalo had a bad feeling in his gut. He texted you that he & Ignacio were coming home. Gus had laid you down on the couch on your stomach & taken your phone & neglected opening any messages to avoid getting caught. Gus walked into the kitchen & made you a cup of tea, he heard you wake up when the pot went off.

"Gus?" You asked while sitting up on the couch.

"Yes? I thought I'd make you some tea, it always makes me feel better!" He gave you a cheery voice, the same he'd give his customers when he asked how their food was.

"Oh," you paused out of shock from the stranger's kindness, "Thank you."

The moment Gus stepped into the living room, the front door flung open, scaring you both. Lalo had his hand on his gun, which rested on his hip, hidden in the waistband of his pants. The world froze for Lalo. He pulled Ignacio behind him & analyzed every inch of you & Gus. Fring has tea in his hand, not a gun. You look more scared by him kicking open the door than you do Gus. You look tired out of your mind & in pain, was he hurting you? He decided to play it safe.

"Who are you?!" Lalo yelled, pretending he didn't know who Gus was.

You understood Lalo's fear, realizing you hadn't been able to check your phone. You walked up to him & placed your hand on his chest, feeling a racing heartbeat.

"This is Gus, he saved my life. Everything is okay, Lalo!"

Lalo dropped his hand from his gun, hoping you hadn't taken note of its existence. Ignacio stepped in front of you & cupped your face with his hands, something he had picked up as a nervous habit.

"What do you mean 'saved your life,' ángel?"

You felt a pit grow in your stomach as you prepared an explanation. Lalo walked up to you & wrapped an arm around your waist like usual, causing you to jump & cry in pain. Ignacio wrapped his arms around your head protectively as you cried, he glared at Gus.

"What happened?" Lalo asked as he stepped towards Gus, his voice having an eerily threatening tinge to it.

Ignacio whispered sweet nothings in your ear in an attempt to draw your mind away from the conversation as he led you to Lalo's study.

"Your partner was kidnapped, sir. They escaped bravely & hopped in my car. I took them to the hospital & brought them here," Gus explained, knowing you were still in earshot.

Ignacio used one arm to close the double doors to Lalo's study, always keeping one arm on your body to remind himself you were alive & at least okay. When the door shut loudly, Lalo's face dropped.

"What do you want, Fring?" he spat out his words like poison.

"I was just trying to be a good samaritan, help a fellow person in need," he gave Lalo the same customer service smile despite being alone with him now.

"What did you do to them?" Lalo would not let Gus keep up this facade.

"I only helped! I drove them to the hospital & contacted the police. I heard those kidnappers hurt them pretty bad though," Gus' last sentence stung, "I'm so sorry that happened, I'm just glad they got out."

"I could kill you right now & no one would know," Lalo's voice became gravelly from pure rage.

Gus looked off towards the study, letting his smile soften, "Y/N would know."

Lalo gritted his teeth. He could only imagine how upset Ignacio was with him. You were crying in his arms from the pain.

"The doctor gave me meds for the pain, I think Gus has them."

"Don't worry, ángel, I'll go get them. You stay here & don't move a muscle," Ignacio stood up & his heart ached as he let go of you. He didn't want to spend a second away from you, but he didn't trust Fring.

Ignacio walked out of the room, being met with his husband's death-wishing glare directed at Gus. He didn't dare turn his head, knowing he had already fucked up he intended to not let Gus out of his sight.

Ignacio held his hand out in front of Gus, "They said you had pain meds."

Ignacio seemed downright unamused & completely unphased. Gus took the medication out & placed it in Ignacio's hand. He gripped the small container, opened it, & poured one into his hand. Ignacio raised his hand a bit, holding eye contact with Gus.

"Take it," Ignacio spoke simply.

"Those are for your partner... for their back."

"I said take it," His voice never wavered from what can only be described as bored.

Gus shrugged his shoulders & swallowed the pill, "The doctor gave this to them, not me. Just oxycodone."

Ignacio studied Gus' face once more before turning on his heel & walking back to the study. Lalo waited until the doors closed once more to continue talking. Ignacio returned to his spot on the couch with you laying between his leg & on his stomach. He grabbed a bottled water from behind him without getting up & handed it to you.

He read the label out loud, "Alright, 10 milligrams every 12 hours with food. Have you eaten, ángel?"

"No," you groaned, "Not since the dinner Lalo made before you both left."

Ignacio was taken back to the moment he finally agreed to go with Lalo, when he was cooking that very dinner. If he just stayed, you would be safe right now. He hadn't even looked to see your bruises, possibly just pretending you were never bruised.

"What did you do to my men?" Lalo asked, already assuming the answer.

"What men?" Gus asked innocently.

With that, Lalo grabbed Gus by the jacket & pulled him outside, throwing him onto the grass. He pulled out his gun & pointed it at Gus, the man on the floor quickly raising his hands to protect his face.

"There, I don't know if you're afraid of cameras or what! Tell me what happened or so help me I will shoot you & tell Y/N you went home!"

Gus stood up silently & patted the dirt off his pants. He looked up into Lalo's eyes, his smile finally fading to a deadpan look.

"Your men are dead, my men disposed of them."

"Why didn't you just kill Y/N?" Lalo was now poking around for information.

"Would you rather I did?" Gus caught on immediately.

Lalo sighed, "Give me the name of the man that hurt them & I will consider not telling Eladio."

"Don't lie to me, Lalo. You'll tell Eladio either way, you can at least say that to my face. But as a sign of goodwill, Brian Clarke. There's an e at the end of Clarke."

"Goodwill? You kidnapped my partner! How is that goodwill, huh?" Lalo asked, taking a step towards Gus & placing his gun into his waistband once more.

"Sometimes we have to do things we don't want to-"

Lalo could not take any more of this bullshit & punched Gus in the face, "Oh, I'm so sorry. That looks like that will leave a mark."

Lalo, once again, grabbed Gus by the shirt & dragged him inside. He threw the poor man to the sink the moment he realized he had a bloody nose. He pushed a roll of paper towels in his direction. The sound of Ignacio trying to convince you to go back in the study made Lalo turn his head for a second before stepping back to keep both the area you were coming from & Gus in view.

"Querida! Did the pain meds work?" He tried to sound positive in a caring way, it was hard in the moment.

"Yeah- Wait, what happened?!" It took you a second to notice Gus' bleeding nose.

"You know, bloody nose season. Right, Gus?"

"Yeah, I get them all the time. Nothing to worry about," Gus spoke as his blood dripped down the sink.

You let out a big yawn causing even Lalo's eyes to soften. Ignacio nervously placed his hands on your hips, "Can I see your bruises so I can know where not to touch you?"

You reluctantly agreed, afraid to try to explain what happened, & turned around so both of your partners could see your back. Nacho slowly lifted the shirt to show bandages covering your back, soaked with blood.

"They cut you?"

"A lot," you admitted weakly, "It felt like hours, I don't know for sure."

"Oh, ángel, I'm so sorry," Ignacio's arms found themselves wrapping around your head again, "Lalo, grab Y/N a snack to go with their meds & I'm going to take them to bed. Oh, & mata a ese pollero, mi vida" (Kill the chicken man, my life (pet name))

A/N: Part two? I would be so down. Reblog or comment if you want it. I am so proud of this & I'll proofread it when I can.

[sydsaint]

Judge me all you want. IDC. He's hot 🔥

Summary: The reader celebrates Valentine's Day with her new grumpy commentary partner.

"Oh, don't look so down, Wade." You giggle at your travel partner and the scowl on his face. "It's Valentine's day! Aren't you even in the least bit excited?" You nudge his shoulder playfully.

Wade rolls his eyes and side-eyes you. "Excited for what? A night of listening to half of our colleagues throwing themselves at you all night? And you encouraging them to keep up the charade for a chance to take you home for the night? No thanks." He grumbles.

"Wow!" You giggle. "You are becoming very bitter in your old age, Barrett. You know that?" You tease him.

Wade grumbles again and continues on his path down the hall backstage at the hotel everyone is staying at for the night. You part ways with Wade for a few hours and head into your room to get dressed for the show.

Three months ago WWE hired you as a replacement for Michael Cole on the Smackdown commentary team. It's always been your dream to land a job doing commentary and other backstage work for WWE. But you never expected that they'd be pairing you up with such a handsome partner.

When you heard that the former in-ring performer was going to be your new partner you were giddy at the thought. Barrett might be almost twenty years your senior, sure. But you've always thought he was hot. And who wouldn't? He's charming, handsome, and tall. Not to mention the accent. You might be too young for Barrett's taste. But god is it fun to mess with him whenever you can.

"Alright." You pull out your pink blouse from your suitcase. "Time to have some fun tonight." You grin to yourself and get dressed.

Later in the night, you exit your hotel room and meet Wade in the hotel lobby. When you arrive you spot him looking sharp as ever in a slate grey suit, a pastel pink tie hanging from his neck.

"Well look at you, Wade." You walk over to him with a grin. "Getting all festive and in the mood."

Wade rolls his eyes and looks at your outfit. A pink blouse hugs your torso and chest showing plenty of skin with its heart neckline. Your black leather pants match your boots and hug every curve perfectly.

"That's what you're wearing to work?" Wade asks you, his gaze returning to your face.

"Mhm." You humm. "Why? You have a problem with my outfit, Barrett?" You ask him with a Cheshire smile.

Wade's jaw clenches under his beard, but he remains calm and collected. "Not at all." He lies and turns sharply towards the door. "Come on, let's go before we're late." He starts to walk off. "This is going to be a long night."

You don't hear that last part as you walk after Wade. But you can tell that you're getting under his skin like usual. The car ride is silent but Wade is nice enough to go around and get the door for you after you've arrived.

"Such a gentleman, Wade." You giggle when he opens the door.

"Just get out of the car, Y/N," Wade grumbles as he holds the door open for you.

You step out of the car and head inside with Wade trailing right behind you. Much to your dismay, your outfit goes mostly unnoticed as you make your way down the hall. That is until Marcel Barthel comes around the corner with Giovanni at his side.

"Y/N! Well, don't you look ravishing tonight, my dear." Marcel stops you and Wade in the hall. "Doesn't she look wonderful, Giovonni?" He turns to his partner.

Vinci nods in agreement and grins at you. "That she does." He turns fully towards you. "You look lovely, Y/N. And you must join us after the show for drinks." He adds.

"Maybe I will." You giggle and drink in the attention.

Before you can continue the conversation, Wade grabs your arm and drags you off while mumbling something under his breath. He holds you at his side until you are both at the curtain.

"Okay, you can let go now, Wade." You pull your arm from his grip. "Gosh, you are no fun."

Wade lets you go and turn to you with a serious look. "Can you manage to behave yourself for 2 hours?" He asks you. "Just 2 hours, that's all I ask. Then you can go out and shamelessly flirt your way through the whole men's roster for all I care."

"Does that include you, Wade?" You ask him with a sly smile.

"Walk!" Wade replies dryly and points to the curtain.

Throughout the night Wade watches you flirt and tease every man that comes out to the ring. All but him. By the end of the night, all he wants to do is go back to his hotel room and remind himself that the crush he's got on his young commentary partner is wildly inappropriate.

"Well, that was fun. Yeah, Wade?" You head backstage after the show.

"Sure, if you say so," Wade replies dryly.

You roll your eyes at Wade's cynicism and suddenly an idea pops into your head. "Hey, Wade. Why don't you come and grab a couple of drinks with me?" You suggest with a sincere smile.

"I thought that you had plans with Vinci and Barthel? Or was it LA Knight this time?" He asks you.

"Nah." You shake your head. "They all try way too hard." You insist with a grin. "Come on, Wade. Live a little! You aren't that old yet."

"Fine." Wade sighs. "One drink." He gives in.

You wear a wicked grin and internally celebrate. "Yes! Come on! I know a place that's usually pretty quiet."

Wade silently scolds himself for agreeing to a drink. He's barely managed to keep his attraction to himself these past three months. And mixing alcohol into this situation is the last thing that he needs. But he can't help himself. After two hours of giving every man that comes up to you the death glare to keep them away. Wade can't even fathom the thought of some random sleaze taking you home after a few cheap drinks.

You arrive at a bar that's not too busy considering the holiday and take a seat next to Wade. After ordering a couple of drinks you sit and chat casually with Barrett for a bit. While you're chatting you can tell that something is bothering him.

"What is your problem now, Wade?" You ask him bluntly. "Because you have been in an even more sour mood than usual tonight."

Wade looks at you and his jaw clenches again. How is he supposed to tell you that he's jealous? He's jealous of all the men who flirt with you without a second thought. He's jealous that almost every man at the bar has been eyeing you up. And you have the audacity to sit here and edge him on like a young pretty girl like you would actually be into him when you've got so many better options.

"Why are you here, Y/N?" Wade asks you while studying your face. "I mean you said it yourself! It's Valentine's Day! You should be out letting men fall all over you like fools. And they'd all be stupid not to."

You clutch your glass sitting in front of you and stare at it. "Well, maybe the one man I'd like to have to fall all over me like a fool doesn't seem to be very interested in doing so." You answer him.

"And what idiot would that be?" Wade scoffs.

"You. That idiot would be you, Wade." You reply, turning your chair toward him.

You watch the sour expression on Wade's face melt into one of shock. "Me?" He asks you.

"I've only been dropping hints since day one." You giggle at him. "I like you, Wade. You're charming when you're not being a dick. You're handsome and have style." You flick his pink tie. "And yeah you're a bit older than me? So what? I've never been much interested in guys my age, anyway."

"A bit?" Wade replies, his look of shock turning into a smile. "Remind me how old you are again? 23?" He asks you.

"24." You correct him with a grin. "Come on. Let's get out of here. This blouse is itchy, and a bit hard to get out of on my own if I'm being honest." You admit with a giggle.

You watch Wade pull out his wallet and pay for your drinks before getting to his feet. "I do believe that I can help with that."

[little-miss-dilf-lover]

This one is really long, sorry!! Take your time responding to these! Also, I apologize for any mistakes 💺 anon

1) In a previous ask, I mentioned WD's (and Wolf's) loyalty to his wife and how Tan is the same so imagine he finds out both wd's and wolf's (+ shigeru kimura) wives died because of what they do or as a failed assassination attempt and he becomes more protective of us (if that's even possible)

2) Speaking of what he does, because of it I think our wedding is small, maybe a few close friends and omg imagine Lem pronounces us husband and wife??

3) Slow dancing with him?? One of his hand gently holding yours, the other one resting on your back, touching foreheads while slowly moving in the dimly lit room 🫠

4) This has been on my mind for quite a while, comparing hand sizes. We're the one who ask him to hold his hand out for us so we can make the comparison and you can see a faint smile as he sees the differences

5) Do you think he gifts us more rings so we match with him?

6) We talked about how he has tattoos that resembles us, how would he react if we got one that resembles him?

7) Ok now more of him after he shaved hehe !! "I won't be riding your face anymore" we tell him and he just freezes. The following days he'll leave lots of kisses down our stomach, doing anything to make us change our mind (it would honestly be so hot to hear him beg for us sm)

8) I really wish to know how the conversation after breaking the bed would go

9) In the novel this man is obsessed with books, so what do you think he likes to read?

10) Also you are so right about what kind of songs he listens to. I have a playlist of songs that remind me of him but they aren't songs that I picture him listening to. I'm starting to believe he doesn't even listen to music :)

More songs from my playlist: Give Me The Night by George Benson, I Like It by DeBarge, Norton Commander (All We Need) by Men I Trust, Tip Toe by HYBS, Outstanding by The Gap Band, Girl by Men I Trust

(Sorry for all the Men I Trust songs, they're my favorite band. Also, 'Girl' really reminds me of Tan, most of the lyrics are in french but when translated it screams reader and Tan, to me at least :)) + he owns Kill Me Pretty idc

Assassin!reader 1) More sassy reader!! Wearing sunglasses while running from yakuzas with a briefcase in our arms. Being overdramatic with our acting. Adding little comments to mock the assassin we're running away from. Happily walking away after gathering intel. 🍒, after humiliating and breaking down a gang leader: Toodle-oo! :D

2) I don't know why I thought of this because in my mind, Cherry doesn't really fight but Tan giving us brass knuckles? And he teaches us how to punch? That would be hot

3) Facetime while they're on a mission!! I feel like they have a laptop with them so it's easier to communicate with us. Maybe they are staying at a hotel when they call us, they talk about how the mission is going, we tell them what we've been up to, what we cooked. Just chill vibes and laughs. Hanging up would be the hardest part.

4) Listen, we could say the weirdest stuff and they'll still defend us. Ladybug is there like "What? That doesn't make any sense." Tan is quick to throw every insult he knows at him while Lem comes up with an argument on how we are actually correct

5) Imagine if we all shared a playlist, the chaos. You said Tan dabbles in classical music so it's funny to imagine that after a song that us or Lem put on the playlist ended, Caprice No.24 In A Minor by Niccolò Paganini starts playing

6) If we're also an assassin, who's babysitting?

+ some more lem 1) About your post of Tan's house, does Lem also live there?

2) Imagine before we started dating Tan, he gets really close and we jokingly say "Ask me to dinner first" (we're not joking we're dropping hints) and he laughs it off. Lem can feel his eye twitching

3) Ok look, he's very happy for us and Tan but that won't stop him from yelling "Cockblock!" when Tan tries to make a suggestive comment (I'm sorry it sounded funnier in my head)

4) All jokes aside, we talked about how Tan would consider breaking up with us to keep us safe and I honestly don't see Lem allowing it. Let's say we did get hurt and now Tan doesn't know what to do with himself, Lem would be the one to reassure him

5) Also, a random thought, if he takes our phone for whatever reason, he'll leave random photos, silly selfies and video vlogs

6) About his taste in music, I feel like he listens to a lot of different genres but I hc he likes R&B the most Mini playlist: Milestone by Tokyo Critters, Orange Mug by WONK, Rockstar by HYBS, Lust For A Vampyr by I Monster, Dare by Gorillaz (Feel like he picked up some songs from his time in Japan. Also I hc he likes I Monster and Gorillaz)

Also he def starts randomly singing

— Dad!Tan 1) Any name ideas for our second child? I had a classmate who's name was Nectarine (I was kind of jealous because it sounded cool) so maybe that or Clementine?

2) Thoughts on reader not being able to have kids so they adopt instead?

3) A scenerio I wanted to share: Telling Mandy we hope she finds someone like Tan and she accidently tells him!! They're in the kitchen, he's preparing a breakfast to surprise us with, when all of a sudden: "Oh um mommy told me she hopes I find someone like you one day" he turns to look at her, "Oh yeah? Why did mommy say that?" "Well she said it's because you make her happy. You respect her and make her feel safe..." she continues, trying to remember what we told her. He softly stares at her and smiles, his heart melting.

Uncle!Lem 1) He watches Thomas with them, it's a given. Also tries to figure out which train they'll be and gives them a sticker

2) He's still very much protective of them but he's more chill and let's them get away with stuff without us or Tan knowing. Like letting them stay up late, giving them just one more candy, and stuff like that

I say the word imagine way too much in these. But writing these ideas to you did help because now I've started writing more drabbles in my notes! So thank you 💗💗

hii angel!!! hopefully this all makes sense, I haven’t read or checked it 😭😭 hope you’re well 💓💓

1- the poor dude will be stressed as!!! rather than uncle ben dying in every universe, it will be an assassins wife. he would be so paranoid too!!! I do think he would essentially try to erase you and make it like you never existed. he thinks that way it might keep you safe

2- I do think the wedding would be very small and intimate regardless. OMG YES!!! I think lem might bring it up casually like “oh yeah, I can officiate your guyses wedding” and both have no idea that he’s registered to do it bc lem kept it quiet😭😭

3- get out that’s so cute🥲!!!!!!!! he’s actually such a romantic guy, I truly believe that

4- ARFFGHHQHAHHA FERAL. why you gotta say that???? now I won’t be able go think of anything else!!!! I have a hand kink

5- eheheh yes yes yes!! depends if you’re into gold or silver. he will either get a matching gold band for you, or the same in silver. even if not married, he likes the idea of having the same ring. or if you are married, then you have matching ring AND wedding ring🫠

6- he’d actually melt. he’d give a composed “that’s nice that” but would be a pile of melted jelly inside

7- 😭😭😭😭😭 he’d be regretting it even more. UGHHGGGGHHHH😩 I imagine him asking daily if it’s grown back enough. “it enough now?” and he’d have like 5 more hairs than day before. in love with the idea of him being uncharacteristically desperate for us

8- im thinking quite a bit of laughs and “can’t believe you broke the bed” maybe he’d shrug and collect his things to head off to the spare room. maybe we’re like “where you going?” and he’s all casual, getting into the bed in ONE OF THE MANY spare rooms. and maybe we’re like “can we sleep on the sofa tonight?” maybe he gets a bad back on there so he’s hesitant, but he can’t say no to us. as much as I don’t particularly like the trait, I do think he’s quite casual about broken possessions (he has money now so he’s more carefree about things, but hasn’t always been) and so he’s like “we can just get another one” bc now he doesn’t have to worry about money

that took a detour😭 sorry for waffle

9- me too!! I really don think he listens to music, there’s just songs that have his vibe and remind me of him. listened to the songs and love them!!! and he so does own that song (lwk turns me on bc I imagine the scene)😭😭😭

assassin reader

1- AAAHH sassy and I love it

2- would be so so hot???! and he teaches you things you may not know. how to hold a knife, how to punch most effectively, how to (idk what else, but you get the gist)

3- yesss!! and if it different time zones, will be facetiming them while we’re in the kitchen cooking. or if they have a spare few hours we’ll watch a movie together, have laptops facing us while we watch a movie on tv. we sync it so we can watch it down to the second and it’s like the twins are with you. hanging up will be so hard???!

4- yes!!! they actually get so defensive

5- im not too entirely sure if I think that still tbh😭 maybe on occasion, but he gives off old English money vibes so that kinda backs up that hc. omg that would be so funny, maybe lem is like “who the fuck put this on here?” maybe it’s a secret that tan likes that kind of music so we say it’s ours and then the more lem listens the more he likes it

6- they babysit themselves. jkjk. maybe tan doesn’t trust anyone else in his house, so someone on your side of the family???? and they’d be paid very decently

lem

1- oooo okay so. im thinking no, but lem has a room at the house (and it’s decorated and IS his room, not just a spare one he sleeps in) so lem is welcome to sleep over at anytime. in the house I used, I think it’s fairly common for another house to be on the property or to be right on the cusp of it. I think they live right next door, so that way they can be near each other, but still get their own space. I do hc lem as more of a city person and tan as a countryside/ rural person. so maybe lem has another flat in the city

2- 😭😭😭😭 lem gets heart palpitations, and can feel his brain throb bc it’s just getting too frustrating

3- def tries to wind him up about it

4- lem would NEVER allow it!!! “what you thinking mate?” “don’t let her go” “don’t do that” “there’s gotta be another way” “don’t. she’ll never forgive you” “she needs you, you need her” “we’ll figure it out, we always do” “don’t lose her” “I can’t live without her, and you definitely can’t”

5- AAAAAAHHHH😭 just pictures of lampposts, his shoes (bc he thinks they look cool) a blurry picture of a squirrel eating a nut, a kids dropped ice cream (with ‘LOL’ written on the image) and then a picture of him buying the kid a new one, a video of him getting nagged at by tan and he’s mocking him in the video (he’s such a child, I love it) a vlog of what it’s like going shop with tan for you

6- holy shit he is so gorillaz coded!!!!!!!! and you’re so right, he def sings and hums without even realising it

as I finished up writing this a song came on and it kinda give lemon vibes??? banquet - bloc party

dad tan

my beloved🫠

1- that is such a cool name!!? you know what, I really haven’t given it much thought so im not too sure sadly

2- adoption is definitely in the picture !! it won’t go unthought of

3- omgomgomgomg!!!? he wants to be the standard for his daughter so that she knows how she should be treated by men in the future, but he often thinks he messes up parenting, but moments like that definitely make him feel like he’s doing a better job. actually dying, what you said is so cute

uncle lem

1- omg😭😭😭

2- oh for sure !!! fun uncle lem

aaaahh yay im so glad!! thank you for sending me these, I loved it!! I wrote your request a few days ago, and it’s in my drafts. I’ll get it up tonight. BUUT I wrote this at the bottom of your request, but too excited so I’ll tell you now, when I was looking for images on pinterest I found a little girl that is the spitting image of tan as a little girl. brown curls, big blue eyes, so fucking cute so I now hc her as mandy 😭

I’ll add it here bc that’ll just be annoying if not😭 blurred her face out as don’t want to repost a picture of a toddler online, so you’ll just have to trust me