#i got enough drafts for all the requests i may as well just be a dailyjusticegifs blog for a week only

[leodanbrock]

JUSTICE ⊹ no context GQ France (2024)

[tunastime]

do androids dream of electric sheep?

I am nothing if not a vessel for self-indulgent docsuma, especially @shepscapades's dbhc self-indulgent docsuma. sometimes you fall asleep in the lab, and sometimes your friend feels compelled to make sure you're okay <3

(3964 words)

Doc sometimes slips into daydream.

It’s not unlike him. He’d been doing it for some time now, some fix halfway between awake and Sleep Mode. Not quite his mind palace, but still wedged into predictive processes, still trying to work to replay memories. In quiet moments, more often than not, he finds that it’s easier to slip away, to tuck himself into his work, drafting, or building, or walking thoughtful circles and let the mechanical parts of his mind slip away into calculation.

In those same dreams, he tries to calculate the probability of events with what he has, blocking out the movements of who he knows best, who he may be able to pinpoint. He works in quiet as his mind runs in the background, wondering how conversations may go, how actions could be perceived. He maps what might happen if someone got hurt, or if someone needed help, or if someone fell asleep in the lab. Someone. Just anyone. He tells himself it could be anyone, but he would be lying if he didn’t know who.

It was hard, right—it felt wrong if he didn’t. Something he was designed to do, put to waste because it felt silly to imagine waking his lab partner, his friend, making sure he was alright, helping him. Was it wrong to want to be helpful? Was it wrong to want anything? It feels—it’s silly. Want was such a human word. He’s not sure he can really want at all. The paper in front of him is getting fuzzy around the edges, though, as he forces himself back into his true waking mode, and focuses on the task in front of him, now a line of text in his eyesight.

Doc leans hard on his hand, cupped around the side of his jaw as he studies the plans in front of him. He’s long since set them to memory, easily recalled with the summon of command, but he works out the fine details of the draft in front of him, still unsatisfied with his new creation. He works quietly, mentally mapping the lists of supplies he might need, the time it may take. If he were to concentrate the slightest bit more on the display in the corner of his vision, he might note how late it had gotten. Without any windows down here, the night sky can’t leak in, which means Doc doesn’t know it’s gotten dark until Xisuma starts to yawn or he manages to peek outside. 

He sets his pad down, eyes skimming the surface. Right, and where was X, anyway? The space, ever growing, up, down, sideways, that he used as his lab had gone still and quiet some time ago. Enough for Doc to take note of. Enough to be a little odd, he would assume, even for him, and the behaviors he knows well from Xisuma. Xisuma didn’t just wander off without a word—he was much too narrative for that. Doc sits up, hand falling to the table. 

“X?” he asks, furrowing his eyebrows. The room stays quiet, aside from the hum of recirculating air and electronics. Doc taps his hand against the table—it was some sort of tic he’d picked up from Ren, a sign of his impatience. He couldn’t shake the habit of mimicking it while he was thinking.

Okay, right. Last time he saw X. He gathers up the recall of the path Xisuma would’ve taken from his side, checking over his work at Doc’s request, and around the lab itself, looping back to a series of benches to work on. Leaning from his spot, he tries to pinpoint the peek of green helmet or shoulder piece. He finds neither in the direct line of sight, though, and slowly, bracing his prosthetic arm on the table, Doc stands. 

It’s a gentle quiet that fills the room, nice and easy and soft to step through as Doc makes his way around the space. Despite having another work bench quite close, Xisuma had a habit of leaving his stuff about, flitting between projects as he saw fit. It was interesting, sometimes, to watch him move around the room—not that Doc had done any of that. He seemed to bounce from point to point, sometimes staying still for hours, unmoving, lost in work. It was in those hours that Doc found himself watching, just for a moment, studying the shallow curve of his nose and the way his hair fell into his face from behind his helmet. 

His office is here, too. Though it’s no different than any other working space in terms of equipment, the space itself is fully outfitted, lined with tools and a large work table, his computer, a desk with a chair. Through the glass, he can see the shape of Xisuma at his desk, likely too caught up in whatever he had been working on to notice Doc’s concern. Doc pauses as he slides open the door, standing in the doorway, announcing himself to the cluttered room.

“Xisuma,” Doc starts. “I know it’s late, if you want to head home, I’m sure I can finish…”

Xisuma is slumped over on  his desk as Doc enters. There’s a brief moment, no more than a second, where Doc’s mind spins a scenario hard and fast, the crumpled shape of Xisuma over his desk. But he can see the slow rise and fall of his shoulders. He registers the slow, steady heartbeat in Xisuma’s chest, and his shoulders sag with relief. He stands in the doorway for a moment. Xisuma looks small, head pillowed on his arms. He’s still running a series of code on the console next to him, which illuminates the back of his head in pale lines of data. His hair falls half loose across his shoulder, like he’d forgotten to finish tying it away from his face, and the slow, deep breaths make it seem like he’d been sleeping here a lot longer than Doc realized. He’s without his helmet, too, which sits beside him on the desk, discarded.

Long enough to get a sore neck and complain about his upper back hurting. Long enough to worry that he might not be getting enough oxygen. Doc sets his shoulders. There’s something in his chest that feels like it skips—regulator, pump, or otherwise. They work in tandem to produce whatever fluttery feeling invades the space where his ribs should be. He presses the heel of his synthetic hand against the depression of his chest, rolling his wrist. The feeling fades for a moment, shuddering through his wrists like it might rest there. He was never going to get used to it, was he?

He steps into the lab proper, sticking his hands into his pockets. He picks his way around the room, trying to walk quietly around it. Xisuma stays asleep, shoulders rising and falling in that even tempo. Doc crouches beside him—Xisuma is properly slumped, back curved forward as he rests. What little Doc can see of his face is soft with sleep, eyelids fluttering just so. When X doesn’t move, he rests his palm over the curve of his shoulder, gentle and slow. He tries not to focus on the fact that so much of his face is exposed to him, aside from just his eyes and the bridge of his nose. He’s seen him before, briefly, every so often, but it was so different watching him now, calm and comfortable. Doc forces himself to focus.

“Xisuma,” he says, voice dipping low and quiet. He runs his hand over the part of his shoulderblade he can reach. He pats the high of his back. “Xisuma, hey…”

X takes a long breath in, making a squeaky sort of sound high in his chest. Doc feels him hum out from under his hand.

“Doc,” he says, voice rumbling in his chest. It was a tired sort of rumble, just on the edge of being rough with sleep, just enough to bring that feeling back to Doc’s internal components, like thirium was sludging too quick too warm through him. He huffs a little breath, a sound caught in his throat.

“You fell asleep at your desk, X,” Doc says, not able to weasel the amusement out of his voice. He runs his hand over his back again, just to see Xisuma’s eyes open tiredly, and shut again. It was so unlike the version of him that he knew in his mind, seeing him savor the brief contact, even from Doc. Especially from Doc. Xisuma was always the one reaching out for him, repairing or correcting or studying. All with purpose. There was no lingering touch between them. And though this had its purpose too, Doc lingered, feeling Xisuma breathe under his hand. 

“Sorry,” X mumbles, finally moving to lift his head, to open his eyes. Doc’s hand slides away as X sits up, over his back and back to Doc’s side. Xisuma blinks, rubbing the sleep from his eyes with the heel of his hands. A frown comes between his eyes as he tries to focus the world around him a little clearer. Like it were mimicking the score across his cheek and nose, there’s a fine indent pressed into his cheek. Doc smiles at him, scrunching his nose in a way he’s seen X do a hundred times. 

Xisuma jolts, half reaching for the helmet beside him. If Doc were to really look, he might see the pink-red flush over his cheeks and ears.

“Sorry—I didn’t…”

There he lingers, halfway to reaching. Doc looks away from him, purposefully averting his eyes.

“I don’t mind,” he says. “You have to be comfortable too.”

Xisuma hums, smiling a little, hanging his head as he leaves his hand on the table.

“Hah,” he says, ears still pink. “Right. Sorry, sorry, Doc. Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“It’s okay,” he says. “I didn’t know where you had gone off to, so I figured I would come make sure you were okay.”

X nods. Doc watches him twist around, hearing the faint give and pop as his spine adjusts to sitting upright. 

“‘M alright,” he says. Then he laughs a bit—the sound is airy and half in his chest, enough to shake his shoulders but more of a wheeze than anything else. Everything fit so well to the timbre of Xisuma’s voice, it seemed, be it the way he moved about, or the way he laughed, or the way his shoulder sloped or face was shaped. Not that Doc had been looking. Regardless, Xisuma sighs, and smiles back at him.

“Just embarrassed is all,” he manages. “Thanks, Doc. I appreciate you.”

X leans back in his chair. Doc watches him resettle and hum to himself as he gets comfortable against the plush backing. Doc makes a clipped sound, reaches out and moves away again, halfway between shaking him awake and letting him sleep.

“X,” he says. “Would it not be more comfortable if you were sleeping in your spare room?”

Xisuma frowns. 

“Would be,” he says, eyes still closed, mumbling. “It just gets awfully cold in there. ‘N if I’m perfectly comfortable in here, why not stay tha’way?”

It’s almost amusing, the trickle of stubbornness that leaks into the tired slur of Xisuma’s voice. It’s almost endearing. He watches X fold his arms over his chest, armor only partly discarded, watches his face wrinkle as he notices and tries to rearrange himself. Doc smiles, something that he simply can’t help—it feels so right, considering how ridiculous this is. He considers his options and weighs the success rates, the action taking a fraction of a second in time, though the scene plays out in his head in full.

“Because you’ll hurt your back,” Doc says plainly. X frowns, clearly mulling it over. There—that’s one that Doc knows, that face, where X slips into thought and worries the inside of his cheek and works his jaw. Doc raises his eyebrows, as if to question him without saying anything, without Xisuma even looking at him.

“Mhh,” Xisuma huffs. He pulls his knees up. Somehow, he manages to fit himself into his desk chair, curling his tall body over his knees and leaning sideways into the back. Doc hums, makes the approximation of the sound he knows.

“Xisuma,” he says. “I’m not going to let you sleep in that chair, you know. You are being stubborn.”

“M‘kay, okay…” Xisuma wheezes, finally uncurling himself.

It takes him a second. Watching Xisuma stretch and blink awake is like watching him come to life. He stretches up and around, face pulling as he likely unsuccessfully shakes the tension from the line of his spine. As he twists, he freezes, face scrunching all at once as he winces, hand shooting up to cup his neck.

“Ow. Jeez.”

He can see it tight in his shoulders and neck, even as X deflates, looking up at him blearily, still slightly slumped in his chair. His eyes shut again. 

“Xisuma…” Doc says, mouth twisting.

X sighs.

“‘M fine, Doc,” he manages to murmur out. “Just��a sore neck. Mm’exhausted.”

“Sounds like you need a real bed, mm?” Doc replies, setting his hands on his hips. Xisuma peeks at him, one eye opening, and shutting again.

He sees the fraction of a smile lift the corners of X’s mouth.

“Sure, sure…”

Doc looks over Xisuma’s face. With his eyes shut, face softening, hair tumbling over one shoulder, he looks comfortable. It’s as if someone took a brush to his features and smoothed out any hard edge—either that, or the static has leaked back into Doc’s vision. He feels a chug in his chest and his joints as he locks up.

X hasn’t moved. Doc reaches out, tapping his knee. Xisuma huffs, clearly startled from the half-sleep he’d drifted back into.

“Too tired t’stand,” he manages. Doc makes a questioning noise.

“I think you can make it,”

There’s a beat of silence. Xisuma cracks an eye open again, shuts it, furrowing his eyebrows. Doc watches him curiously, mind running through the list of possible scenarios. He’s made it part way when Xisuma says:

“‘M using you t’stand, then.”

And he makes a little, amused heh, before he says:

“That’s fine.”

There’s something he means to say alongside that, but as soon as X’s very warm, very human hand makes contact with the fabric of his lab coat and the cool synthetic of his arm, he loses focus. He should be used to this—the amount of times X has performed his routine maintenance, sweeping his hands over the replaced shoulder joint to check for seams, or made sure the regulator functioned, or backed up personal data, fingers skimming the shallow port at the back of his neck. He should be, but that contact alone sends a prickling-warm jolt up his arm. It feels foreign to let the touch linger. But Xisuma lingers regardless, hand flat against the space where Doc’s left ribs should be. He’s gone from holding, to simply sitting there, arm bent at the elbow, held weakly up. 

“Mrghh…” he complains. Doc taps his elbow, trying to jolt him back awake.

“C’mon, X, you can get up.”

X shakes his head slowly, his hand finding the inner curve of his prosthetic arm, squeezing just once, like he’s remembering it’s there. Then, X leans into him, all at once, slumping into his chest. Doc lets out a wouf in surprise. He holds still, aside from the simulated breath in his chest. After a moment, Xisuma makes a small, tired sound, almost like a laugh.

“Houfh,” he mumbles. “I, mm, don’t…don’t think ‘m gonna make it, Doc.”

“Mhm…” Doc chides. 

Xisuma laughs again, lying still for a moment, voice still heavy with sleep. There’s a moment where he shifts, and there’s a small, painful noise that he makes.

“Ow, mrrgh—ow, okay—” he gripes. Doc’s synthetic hand finds the curve of his shoulder, patting gently.

“Oh, X—just…stay still, mhm?”

“Mm,” Xisuma says tiredly, “Alright.”

As much as he wants to move him, X is still wearing that damn armor.

Doc lets him lean into his chest as he tries to weasel off the bits of armor left over. It’s a struggle, keeping X comfortable and trying not to pull him around awkwardly, while trying to remove his chestplate with one hand. Once the armor pulls away, he resettles him, slowly scoops one hand under his legs. Something about this, about the way Xisuma leaned heavy into him, felt so painfully human he feels it curl up between the wires connecting his regulator to his side fans.

“Ready?” he says, mostly to the top of Xisuma’s head.

“Mmh…” X murmurs.

He hefts him into his arms, settling him against his chest. When Xisuma sighs, it’s profound and heavy and he tucks his face into Doc’s coat. Doc can feel the remnant of heartbeat from where his arm rests behind his back, thudding away behind his ribs. His breathing stays even, though shallow. One of Xisuma’s hands clasps over the back of his neck, keeping him still.

It’s a careful walk to Xisuma’s spare room. Doc is careful not to bump anything, measuring the subtle rise and fall of his chest as he walks. He drifts back to sleep, though, through the lab, through Doc shutting the lights off. He’ll have to come back through to power down their various computers, but for now, the dull white-blue glow illuminates the room. He carries him into the halls and through and to his room. It’s smaller than the room in his base by a sizable margin—just enough for the essentials. X stirs as Doc pauses to flip on the lamp, the light warm and yellow briefly illuminating the room. This can’t be a daydream, now, with the way X sighs and wriggles himself free as Doc pulls back the quilts and lets him down. He sits down with him, and the warm shape that Xisuma makes curls toward him, just a fraction, as he pulls the blankets over him. 

Part of Doc knows that Xisuma won’t remember him carrying him to bed, or making sure he was warm, or keeping the light on so he wasn’t disoriented when he woke. Xisuma sighs, sinking into the pillows, expression relaxed and content. Doc hums.

“That’s better, yeah?” Doc says. He reaches out, instinct, want, desire, something, hammering away in his chest, as he brushes hair from X’s face, tucking it behind his ear. He brushes through the hair close to the base of his neck, across his cheek with his synthetic thumb. His dark hair is fine and soft and it must be a daydream—or it isn’t and he was right, because there have been moments like this in his head. Wondering if Xisuma would let himself succumb to soft comforts. He’s spent his own share of time lying next to him, ignoring the way Xisuma curls up next to him, pretending he himself didn’t move closer when Xisuma lies still. It was this dance that Doc didn’t understand, that he wasn’t sure if he was overthinking. Or overstepping. But Xisuma shifts, pressing his cheek to Doc’s synthetic palm, and Doc suppresses a shudder. It sparks something that could’ve been painful right up his arm and through his chest, bright and warm and staticky. 

Doc hums, smiling to himself. Something like a dull thrum knocks in that space of his pump, pushing itself a little further, a little harder. It was sweet. X trusts him, not only to see him without his armor, but to help him to bed, to help him sleep. But Doc lifts his hand away, feeling that ache, the nervous shudder through his system.

X makes a sound, then, something small, eyes fluttering as Doc pulls away. Doc pauses.

“Mhh,” X manages. Doc swallows—he shouldn’t have to. That’s not something he should have to do, or be able to do, but the action just feels appropriate. It goes right along with sighing and laughing, and as he does it, Xisuma says:

“Thanks,” in a small, soft voice, and, muffled, and slightly slurred with sleep: “Didn’t have’ta stop.”

“You’re supposed to be sleeping, Xisuma,” Doc says. He can feel his temperature tick up several notches, no doubt a blue flush coming to the high of his cheeks, the bridge of his nose. He laughs, just a bit. “Did I wake you up?”

X sighs, stretching as he does.

“No,” he manages. “No, y’didn’t…”

“Oh,” Doc says. “Were you awake this whole time?”

Xisuma nods slowly. Ah. Ah. Doc dismisses a temperature notification.

“A little.”

“Mm,” Doc hums. “Silly Xisuma.”

Xisuma laughs. The sound is high and a little fuzzy and a bit caught in his throat. His bright eyes blink up at him and shut again as a smile settles on his face. 

“Doc?” he asks. 

“Mhm?”

Xisuma yawns, smothering it with the back of his hand, just barely. He tucks that hand close to his chest, curling up further still under his thick comforter. 

“Could you…could’you do tha’again? The…” Xisuma lifts his hand, miming a brushing motion as he does. Another temperature warning, higher than the last, blips into Doc’s field of vision. It’s immediately dismissed, but he pulls in a breath, quiet, trying to turn it into a soft laugh.

“I can do that,” Doc says gently. Gingerly, he brushes his fingers through X’s hair, sliding back against his head. He combs through, lifting his hand to go back to his forehead, back to cradle his skull. X’s eyes fall closed again.

Doc can tell the moment that Xisuma truly slips into sleep. He lingers in his space, tracing out the base of his skull with his thumb, taking in the sensation of warmth and contact and stimulation, fingers flickering white up to his wrist. He wishes biting down on his tongue would do anything. He wishes that the hollow of his chest didn’t hold a weight that no diagnostic could fix. He felt too awkward and stilted and not nearly gentle enough. But as Xisuma stays asleep, he draws his hand away. He mumbles his good nights as he stands slowly, shutting out the light and wandering from the room. 

He makes his way back into the lab. He replays the memory of Xisuma’s small smile, the fine line of his scar as he’d pressed his face into the pillow, the way he’d relaxed against Doc’s touch. He replays the memory, again, and again. It has to be a daydream. Has to be. There’s no other logical explanation to all of that.

Maybe that would explain the ache in his chest, far too human to be his own.

Doc goes back to work. He sits down at the lab table, spreading his arms as he braces against the white tabletop. He furrows his eyebrows. Something doesn’t feel right, too warm or out of place. He feels gross. Not gross bad, maybe, gross different? Broken? Not broken, maybe. Weird. Wrong. Out of place. It doesn’t make any sense. Or it has, and he’s refusing the obvious answer. Xisuma didn’t ask for any reason. Xisuma asked because he was tired, and tired people do silly things, and silly people are a handful, and Xisuma is a handful—a lovely one. Doc shuts his eyes. His chest hurts. It’s an awful hurt, actually, less painful than it is just weird. He thinks for a moment he might be better off if he left, maybe the weight of whatever lingered in his memory would be better off if he were to take a break from standing in the same spaces. 

He sends Xisuma a message. From his office, he hears his com ping.

Docm77 whispered to you… Xisuma I’m stepping out, sleep well :-)

[scenesniper]

Hello hello, good day to you! If you don't mind may I request general headcanons for Matthias? (I got attached to him pretty quickly after multiple successful kites)

Tysm!

☆ matthias czernin ; general sfw & nsfw headcanons

pairing / matthias czernin x afab gn! reader

disclaimer / mention of blowjobs, finger fucking, tit fucking, dry humping

word count / 1,005 words

author's note / thank you anon, i'm having a good day i hope you are as well! i've been meaning to write about matthias for awhile (really, he's been in my drafts for a month now) so getting this request made me more motivated to finish.

SFW

☆ ”welcome, to the outstanding show..” a human so stiff as if he’s a puppet, he could easily be mistaken as one indeed. if there was no puppet in sigh, there’d be no telling that he was truly the puppeteer in charge.

☆ matthias czernin, a gloomy man with his drooped eyes that’d have mothers clutching their children’s shoulders as they walk past by him in the street, whispering, ”don’t look at him..” he looks almost unremarkable at first glance but if not for that burnt side of his.

☆ he’s not one to talk much, his expression seemingly to wander elsewhere and his eyes looking downwards. he’s one that lacks self confidence and self respect but oh, he so badly wants a sense of normalcy in this life. a mundane life.

☆ his uncertainty and hesitance towards commitment is clear, even after developing a relationship firsthand. he’s riddled with insecurities but god, does he love the idea of pursuing a romantic relationship. something that he’s lacked his entire life. he’d like it if you could meet him, outside of his family, his personal life. outside of ever meeting louis.

☆ matthias would certainly be lacking in the romantic field but he’d be a romantic at heart, albeit shy and very discreetly. fleeting, hidden touches of your hands in the dark or under covers. he’s not one to necessarily initiate, nor really enraptured with physical touch. however, he’d notice there’d be days where he would miss you and your touch.

☆ conversations with matthias would be with substance. he’s not a big fan on small talk, something that he’s always not been the best at. however, he’d always try his best to engage in it, only for you really.

☆ he would love to take you out, even if it’s a small outing. any moment with you is more than enough to him, a fleeting moment of you is everything to him. just to get away from his past, future, present.

☆ kissing with matthias can and could be awkward, he’s not experienced whatsoever and it’s more of a small and fast peck. but when it’s those days, when he’s completely so infatuated and need you ever so badly, he’d take you like a crazed man. it’s messy, sloppy and horrible, but you can feel those porcelain lips of his on you and really, that’s all that matters in that moment.

NSFW

☆ overtime, he would get confident on himself and those brief periods of yearning would turn into makeout sessions, him struggling to take off his layers of clothing and him gently pushing you on his bed, the sight of you all laid out for him.

☆ he’s hasty each and every time with you, not knowing where to look or how to act when he sees your naked sight. he’s embarrassed and feels as though he’s committing a great sin just having this view all to himself. but that turns him on even more.

☆ matthias czernin in bed is much more confident in both his personality and ability during bed, as if a switch is being turned on. he loves to take the reigns, to finally have some sense of control in his life. he’s slow and serious.

☆ he loves you giving him blowjobs, guiding you by your hair and pulling and tugging. those sounds of gagging that’ll come out of you and that feeling of his cock hitting the back of your throat, he can’t last as long as he likes. rather than cumming inside of your mouth, he much prefers it if he cum outside of it as he doesn’t like how disrespectful it could be.

☆ matthias is someone that’s attentive. he’ll have his hands all around you as if you’re a doll, occasionally touching you in places just to get any elicit response. whether it’s him rubbing your nipples, playing with your clit and shoving his fingers deep in you. oh, how he loves the sight of his fingers deep in your womb. “you’re almost taking it all in..”

☆ he’s very sensitive in every part of his cock but especially the area hidden and lifted up from his foreskin. tease his foreskin, tease him and graze your lips. that just absolutely drives him crazy.

☆ he wants to hear your every sound, something that reassures him that he’s doing good. he’s very vocal but tries to shield it (which he really isn’t good at, at all). the sight of you burying your head in your pillow while he’s balls deep in you, is a sight that’s practically ingrained in his mind every second of the day.

☆ he has a boob and ass fixation, his hands are always on it or nearing those areas. whether it’s him licking your entire nipples, squeezing, or even tit fucking (no matter the size).

☆ he loves clothed humping, the feeling of friction. he could do foreplay for as long as possible, pinching your nipples through your clothes, his clothed cock poking you from behind and his other hand splayed around your entire stomach. he's absolutely in love with the sight of his rubbing cock on you as you’re clothed.

☆ his most certain favorite position is cowgirl. however, he’s very insecure of his “ghastly” appearance. he’d sometimes raise his hands near his face as if it’s out of habit to conceal himself.

☆ reassure him by putting his hands down, kissing each and every part of those “imperfections”, people would call him as they jab. praise him for his beauty and all that he is. he truly needs it. to return those affections, he loves to put his hands on your face. his thumb grazing your cheek and nearing your eye.

☆ aftercare with matthias would always be one with a bath drawn. he loves to feel and be clean. he’d love to help you dry your hair and you helping him with his afterwards. something about it just seems so.. domestic to him. it’s a heartwarming comfort to him.

[blackenedsnow]

VAMPIRE READER AND BEETLEJUICE?? 🙏🙏🦇🦇 READER NEEDS TO FEED 🙏

bite me

WARNING: Blood (vampire stuff)

PAIRING: Beetlejuice x Vampire! Reader

NOTE: Oh my GOD, thank you for this request. You don’t know how much I LOVE the idea of a vampire reader. I could write about this dynamic forever. Seriously, this is everything. <3 I know feeding off a dead guy makes no sense, but for the sake of this one shot.. pretend it does.

SUMMARY: You’re a vampire in need of a feed, and Beetlejuice is more than happy to oblige. After all, you two are lovers, and nothing quite says romance like a late-night snack.

The place was quiet, draped in shadows, the only sound the slow tick of the grandfather clock in the hall. A chilly draft whispered through the stone halls, carrying the faint smell of autumn leaves and earth. Normally, this was your favorite time of night—when everything fell silent, and the world seemed made just for you.

But tonight, there was a dull ache gnawing at the pit of your stomach. The familiar hunger for blood was creeping in, the kind you couldn’t ignore any longer. You usually planned ahead, so you’d have something to satisfy it before the cravings got intense. But lately, you’d been… distracted.

“Hey, bats-for-brains!” Beetlejuice's loud, nasally voice tore through the quiet like a firework. You winced, but couldn’t hide a small smile as he made his way into the grand, dimly lit parlor.

“There you are, babe!” he smirked, waggling his brows at you.

You rolled your eyes, but your voice came out softer than you intended. “Beetlejuice, I’ve told you about the shouting.”

He leaned closer, eyes glinting with mischief. “Oh, I know. It’s why I keep doing it.”

The gnawing hunger in your stomach reminded you why you’d actually let him stick around tonight. Beetlejuice may be many things—irritating, vulgar, incorrigible—but he was also… tempting. And he’d always been more than willing to let you have a little taste, no questions asked.

“Beej,” you said, voice low, a hint of a growl slipping in. His eyes sparkled at that, and he leaned back, eyebrows lifting in mock surprise.

“Well, well! You’ve got that look in your eye. What is it, time for dinner?” He grinned wide, baring his teeth as if daring you to bite. He’d always found the whole “vampire” thing fascinating; you half-wondered if it was because it reminded him of the Neitherworld.

You nodded slowly, shifting closer. “If you don’t mind.”

“Oh, babe, you know I never mind.” He flopped back on the velvet settee, holding his arms out wide as if he were presenting himself to royalty. “Bite me! Go on, let’s make it dramatic!”

You chuckled, sliding next to him. “You never take anything seriously, do you?”

He shrugged. “Hey, if I took everything seriously, I wouldn’t be here, now would I? Besides—” he leaned in, voice dropping to a low rasp—“I know you love it.”

That was enough to make your hunger sharpen, and you leaned in, letting your fingers trace along the collar of his suit. His pulse beat under your touch, a little faster than usual. He might joke all the time, but he could never hide that shiver of excitement whenever you got close.

“Alright, hold still,” you murmured. He didn’t move, his grin widening.

You tilted his head back, baring the pale, almost lifeless skin at his neck. You bit down gently, letting your fangs sink in, and felt him stiffen, a low groan slipping from his lips.

“Holy… jeez, Y/N,” he breathed out. His voice was a mixture of awe and something softer, something almost tender.

The taste of him was familiar, a mix of the Neitherworld’s strange, earthy sweetness and just a hint of iron. It wasn’t like feeding from anyone else; it was distinctly him, and it left you feeling light-headed and exhilarated. You felt his fingers brush along your back, oddly gentle for someone like him, and you let yourself linger a moment longer than necessary.

You finally pulled back, licking the last traces of blood from your lips as he slumped back with a dreamy grin. “Now that’s what I call dinner and a show.”

You laughed, wiping your mouth as you looked at him sprawled out, clearly a little dazed. “You enjoyed that way too much.”

“Who, me?” he gasped, feigning shock. “You know I only did it for you, baby. But if I happen to enjoy it… well, that’s just a bonus.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

He chuckled, pushing himself up from the settee and brushing off his suit, though it didn’t make much difference in its already-disheveled state. “What can I say? I’m a giver. Ain’t I the best boyfriend?”

You laughed again, unable to argue. As unconventional as he was, Beetlejuice really did make you feel alive—even in the quiet, empty spaces of your ancient home, he filled it with his energy, breaking the silence with his loud, brash love.

With him, you felt less like a creature of the night and more like someone who belonged, someone who was understood, even if that someone happened to be undead.

“Yeah,” you said softly, leaning against him, “I guess you are.”

“Aw, babe, you’re killing me!” he said with a grin, throwing an arm around you.

And for once, you didn’t mind the noise.

[wobblesthecowgirl]

Hii! I literally love your page so much! If you don’t mind, could you write an Arthur x Fem reader fluff?

So I was thinking, Arthur and the reader are close friends and she has feelings for him, like I mean she is HEAD OVER HEELS for him! But she thinks that he likes Mary-Beth or something and somehow he finds out about her feelings towards him and how she thinks he likes Mary-Beth and he confronts her and is like “I don’t like her I like you” and they kiss or something idk I JUST NEED HIM SO BAD RN😭

I Only Want You.

Arthur Morgan x Femreader

I apologise for the long delay! But thank you so much for your patience and request! I hope you enjoy it! And thank you so much for the love! <3

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“Why not write him a letter?”

Y/n was sitting on a log with Abigail under the sun, looking out to the beautiful scenery before them on the edge of the cliff. They were discussing Arthur, a common topic between the two, and Abigail was trying to convince her friend to finally confess.

“A letter?” She tilted her head.

Abigail nodded, “Yes! I mean, you love to write, and you’re too much of a baby to speak to him about your feelings. I think a letter is perfect. You can leave it for him without seeing his face.” 

Y/n thought about it and agreed it wasn’t a bad idea at all. She could sneak into Arthur’s tent with a letter telling him everything she’s always wanted to say, and wait for a response. So, she smiled and hugged her friend tightly, before standing up quickly and making her way to her own tent to begin writing. 

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This was harder than she thought. She assumed being able to sit and think carefully about what she wanted to say would be easy, but it just filled her head with more doubts. Before she could start her fourth draft, she heard a ton of horses outside and quickly hid the crumpled up pieces of paper. Most of the men were robbing a wagon and had just come back; from the cheers and laughs, she could only assume it went well. She got up from her chair and peeked her head out of her tent and almost screamed in surprise. Arthur stood right outside her tent.

“Oh! Mr Morgan, you scared me!” She laughed it off, a hand to her chest as he chuckled with her.

“I apologise, I didn’t mean to sneak up on you. I just wanted to tell you how the robbin’ went.”

“I assume it went well, given the smile on your face.” Y/n smiled as she looked around to the other men already cracking bottles of beer. The pair went quiet and the woman wanted to burst into a confession then and there. The sun was setting and it casted a orange glow to his face. His hat caused a small shadow over his eyes and his smile was small and earnest. The little wrinkles around his eyes and mouth only made him more attractive, and his moustache had been recently trimmed. 

“Well, I best get back inside now. I’m a very busy lady.” She excused herself. He smiled a little wider and watched her close the tent, almost disappointed with their short exchange. 

After their conversation, Y/n got back to her desk and this time, the words began to spill out onto the page with ease:

Dear Arthur,

Firstly, I must apologise. I am too much of a coward to face you, so I’ve resorted to writing this letter.

The truth is, I have fallen head over heels for you. You may not agree with me, but you are a good and genuine man. You’ve helped me in more ways than you could ever imagine. The day you rescued me from my burning horse from the O’Driscolls, I thought my life was over. But, to my surprise, it was the start of an even better life. I truly can’t thank you enough.

I don’t expect you to reciprocate these feelings, and that is ok. I wouldn’t want to ruin this friendship we have formed.

Yours, Y/n.

She kept re-reading it over and over again while a million what ifs ran through her head. What if he’s put off by the letter? What if he has someone already? What if he laughs at her? 

She shook her head. She had written it now, all she had to do was plant it in his tent and hide, wallow away in bed while her anxiety ate her up. She folded it and wrote his name on it before peeking her head out the tent again and tip-toeing to his tent. When she saw he wasn’t inside, she snuck in and placed the letter on his bedside table. 

Y/n felt satisfied with herself, until she saw a letter on his desk with the name ‘Mary Linton’. Her stomach dropped. Who was this Mary? Was she a lover? A relative? Feeling sick, she rushed out the tent, leaving her letter behind.

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“You alright there, Y/n?” Tilly asked her while she zoned out. It was now night-time, and her mind was eating her up all evening. The women were sat around the fire doing what they do best: gossiping. Of course, Grimshaw or Molly hadn’t joined them, but that was always the case. 

“Hmm? Sorry, yeah I’m good.” She brushed it off, taking a big swing of whiskey. The rest of her friends spared glances at one another. Karen piped up while also taking a swig of her own whiskey, “Yeah, I ain't buying that. You’ve been sulking all evening.” 

Y/n sighed and began biting her nails out of habit, wondering if asking them about Arthur was a smart idea. But she couldn’t keep letting the question eat away at her.

“Do any of you know who Mary Linton is?”

Mary-Beth looked surprised at the question, “Mary? You don’t know?”

Her stomach dropped again. 

“No I don’t.” 

Tilly shook her head, already feeling bad for her friend. Everyone but Arthur knew that Y/n had feelings for the older man, it was a miracle the man himself hadn’t figured it out. Tilly sighed, “She used to be his woman. About ten years ago now, but her daddy didn’t like him so it didn't work out. I keep telling him to let it go.” 

There it was. Her what ifs became reality. She couldn’t hide her disappointment and took another swig of the whiskey. And another. Then another one. 

“Slow down girl! You’ll end badly!” Tilly tried to grab the bottle out her hand but she moved it out of her reach. By now, Y/n vision was hazy and her head felt light. The smell of whiskey was strong on her breath but she felt a little more relaxed at least. 

“It’s obvious Arthur likes you back.” Mary-Beth tried to help her feel better, but all she did in response was roll her eyes.

“Oh please. Don’t get my hopes up.” She pouted as she finished the whiskey off. All the women were getting up and getting ready for bed but she decided to sit by the fire a little longer. Karen patted her back, “Please just take it easy. Get some rest soon.” And with that, she was left alone. She just stared into the fire, her mind restless, when she heard a twig snap. She snapped her head back and saw the root of her problems. He looked confused at her state. 

“Y/n? What are you still doing at this hour?” 

“Nothing.” She frowned, facing away from him, kicking a stone away despite being sat on the log. Arthur sat down next to her, his knee inches away from hers. 

“You smell of whiskey, doll. You been drinking too much to handle?” His voice was laced with concern, which only infuriated her more. Why care for her when he already had a woman he cared for? 

“Why do you care?” She sounded harsher than she meant to. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was her patience running thin. Maybe it was her disappointment. Either way, her response still shocked him. 

“Why wouldn't I?” He asked, and her heart kept sinking lower and lower. They fell silent, and Y/n heard him reach into his pockets and took out the letter. Her eyes widened as she tried to snatch it out his hands but he raised his arm higher. 

“Just leave it Arthur!” She shouted, still trying to grab it as he kept his arm in the air, a firm hand on her shoulder to push her lightly. 

“Why are you behaving like this? I just want to talk about it.” He tried to calm her down as she stopped prying at him. 

“I know about Mary.” She stated which caused his eyes to widen slightly. He glanced at the letter before folding it and putting it back in his pocket. 

“The women gossiping again?” He chuckled a little dry, so she only hummed in response. Their gossips were never wrong though, she thought to herself. 

“That's history, love. She was only writing to me to help her brother,  but I don't like her like I used to.” Arthur grabbed her chin much to her alarm, and gently turned her to face him, before brushing a strand of hair in her face out the way. 

That damn smile. 

“I love you too. I ain't need a silly little letter, you could've told me and I would've swept you up in a heartbeat.” 

It's like time stopped. The alcohol must've gotten to her head. She must've blacked out. Died even, and seen the pearly gates. 

But when he leaned forward, and softly kissed her, she felt more awake than ever. He pulled away before she could even react, and his face was bright red. 

“Was that a bad kiss? It looks like it was.” He coughed awkwardly. 

“No…no not at all. I'm just in shock. I didn't think you actually liked me.” 

He laughed light before leaning closer again, a hand on the back of her head, “I don't like you, sweetheart. I love you.” 

This time she kissed back, harder. Months of pent up tension between the two was finally being released. It was surprising the two didn't go mad.  

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They spent the rest of the night sitting next to the fire, holding hands, and Y/n rested her head on his chest as he held her close. His tumb traced her knuckles as she listened to his heartbeat. She felt protected, safe, warm, and comfortable. She could happily stay like that forever.

Unknown to the pair, the women of the camp were watching from a distance, with giant grins on their faces.

[xmalereader]

Simon Riley x High Ranking! Male Reader

☆ — MASTERLIST — ☆

Requested: Could I request a Ghost x male reader story. Male reader is also in the Task Force 141 as a high ranking officer. He never goes out on the field with the others. Ghost and male reader know each other for a long time and are together. (You can decide if they are married , etc). So reader is very shy and has an innocent and introverted aura. (Wears glasses, barely talks etc.) That’s also why they all were surprised when they found out that Ghost and Reader are together, because Ghost is… well Ghost. So, the reader defects to Makarov and because of the reader Makarov succeeds. So the 141 ‘hates’ reader and sees him as a traitor. So Ghost has to decide, if he is loyal to the Task Force or his lover. [You can decide what happens of course and also if reader survives and etc. Just don’t make a twist were reader goes back to 141 or kills Makarov :) ]

WARNINGS/ CONTENT: Language, angst, hurt/no comfort, specific details to reader, Soap being soap, mentions of Makarov, MW3 mentions, slight fluff, more dialogue, betrayal, simon is ruined.

WC: 3.4K

TAGS: @dzeilan

NOTES: I may have over done it with this fix but at least I got it finished 😂 but anyways hope you enjoy this request! I tried my best to keep it angsty and tempted to make a second part but for now I’m putting it in the maybe drafts. I decided to end it in a semi cliff hanger!

Task Force 141 was monitored and by someone above Price. Not many people knew who it was but they didn’t hear stories about the man being ruthless to his team, always giving them the hardest missions and dealing with the most deadliest and dangerous people. Everyone thought figured that he was a cold blooded man who stayed cooped up in his own office, never leaving or joining the field like the rest of the others. That’s. how everyone saw him.

When in reality he was the total opposite which surprised the 141.

In reality he was quiet and only spoke with authority when meeting up with the team, but when alone he was very closed up and not very social with the others, keeping to himself and not getting close with the others. Y/n had heard the gossip floating around about him and usually ignored it. He was a higher ranking than anyone else and could have easily found a way to stop the murmuring, but he wasn’t that power drunk to do something stupid.

Only his team knew what he was really like, he’s spent enough time with Price that he’s warmed up to the captain, always addressing him as ‘sir’ each time they meet only for Y/n to remind Price that he doesn’t need to call him that whenever they were alone and considered the man as a friend. Price was actually the one who approached him about building a team of his own, wanting his approval and guidance.

Y/n was surprised by this and intrigued by what he had in mind. When Price showed him the files of the people he wanted in his team, he can’t help but hide his small grin when his eyes land on a familiar name, finding it funny that he would be the boss to his own deadly boyfriend that everyone feared, wearing that scary mask that only made his silence much more deadly and intimidating for others.

He had told Price that he wanted to review the files first before giving an official approval, getting the time that he needed to review each soldier that he chose and memorizing every little thing about them and finding them impressive by the second. It didn’t take long for him to approval Price’s team and granting the man permission to gather them up and move on with a mission regarding Hassan during that time.

As much as Y/n hated being out in public and in front of others he had no choice but to be present during the time that Hassan was terrorizing the world. Many other soldiers had a chance to finally see who the scary man was only to grow confused when they saw him for the first time, wearing glasses while he squints at some paper work and maps, trying to figure out Hassans next location or if could find any other information regarding the man.

He would stay up all day and night looking for anything to help him, cooping himself up in his office with papers scattered around and computer opened as he did his own research. How he received a high ranking title he will never know, but his skills brought him this far.

Those quiet nights when everyone is sleeping a shadow creeps inside his own room, hovering over him from where he sat. He can feel their presence and doesn’t move his eyes from the computer. “If you are here to force me into bed, then I will have to decline.” He speaks up, hearing a familiar chuckle and tilts his head back to find Simon standing over him, hands on the back of his chair as he wore that skull mask over his face, gear gone and leaving him in black clothing and a jacket.

“You’ve been working day and night with no sleep.”

“How do you know I haven’t slept?” Y/n raised a brow and lowers his head to focus back on his computer screen only for Simon to place his fingers around his neck, using his index finger to tilt his head back in a gentle manner as he stares down at the man.

“You have bags under your eyes.” He moves his fingers up his cheek and grazed his finger under his glasses near his eye, noticing the lack of sleep from his own lover. “You know I can’t sleep.”

Simon lets him go and sighs as he watched his lover focus back on his work and moving maps around as Simon watched him from behind. “You won’t lose anything if you sleep.”

“But Hassan—“

“Is out of sight. For now.” Simon cuts in, using his own authority voice on his lover in order to get some sense into him. The two have been dating for about a year now, keeping it on the down low and preventing anyone from finding out. Y/n over ranked Simon and doesn’t know how the others would react when finding out that he’s dating their deadly weapon. He knows that Simon cares for him and his health and wants to make sure that he at least gets some rest.

“Fine…” He mumbled out and with that Simon reaches over to close his computer the room grows dim and the only light shinning through the window is the moonlight. “Time for bed.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“You sure act like one.” Said Simon, chuckling at his own words which makes Y/n roll his eyes and cracks a tired smile. He gets off his chair and follows Simon to bed as the other soldier helps him out by removing his glasses first and setting them on the desk with the rest of his stuff and gets him into bed.

These nights are special to them since its the only time that they are able to spend time together without getting caught, having to sneak around like high school teenagers in order to avoid any trouble, but sooner or later they’d have to let the rest of their team know. As he snuggled up against Simon he lets out a deep sigh, feeling exhausted from all the work his mind was all over the place thinking about the mission and the things that could be happening without their knowledge, but they had no ability into knowing it.

“Stop thinking.”

“Can’t help it.” Y/n mumbled out in the dead of night.

The silence of the base was killing him and he hated it. “Your thoughts are loud.”

“You telling me that you can read minds?” Y/n raised a brow at Simon while chuckling. “If I could read minds I would have gotten to Hassan by now.” He did have a point.

Y/n lies his head on Simons chest and taps his fingers against his stomach as he thinks. “I just worry for everyone and I’d feel guilty it something happened to you and everyone else.” When Y/n received such a high ranking he didn’t expect the amount of stress to come with it since he was in charge of his own team and deciding the fate of the mission. When he got his first team he had to take multiple risks, almost costing him the lives of his own soldiers which devastated him.

There were times that he wanted to leave his rank to get rid of the guilt that he felt only to learn that he couldn't’ always save everyone even if he tried.

“Not everyone can be saved, Y/n. It takes one life to save millions.”

But it also takes one mistake to risk millions.

After last nights reassurance, Y/n is able to work a lot better all thanks to Simon in forcing him to sleep. Tracking their target was getting easier, finding the locations and sending in the proper help in order to get rid of the missiles that were lost. It wasn’t until Shepherds betrayal that they were separated.

Y/n had lost communication with his team and Simon, stuck back in base where the shadow company was taking over Alejandro’s people. He caught on quickly when chaos erupted in base, collecting his things quickly and hiding them in the vents and getting his own gun ready when facing the shadow company.

Even though Y/n looked like an innocent man due to how quiet he is around others he was also deadly when others were in danger getting through the halls and gunning down anyone who came after him, not hesitating to fight back as he sneaks around the halls and onto the second floor where he makes his escape, he uses one of the shadow companies uniforms to get through the base without being noticed, making it through the gates and towards their radio station.

He uses it to communicate with the rest of his team, checking up on them and hoping that they are still alive. His anxiety spiked when he doesn’t get a response fearing the worst has happened to Simon, fearing that he’s lost the one person he loved. He wasn’t one for crying, but the lack of response was bringing him to tears, close to giving up and heading back down to hunt Graves down.

“Are you crying?”

Y/n gasps, turning around quickly with his gun out when coming face to face with Soap. “Soap.” He sighs in relief to see him alive as he lowers his gun, ready to scold the man only to see Simon climbing over the wall along with Rudy. His eyes widen when the land on Simon. “Simon…” He shoves Soap aside who's left flabbergasted and makes a beeline towards Simon, not hesitating to hug the man and sniffling against his shoulder. “You dumb bastard, why didn’t you answer? I thought you were dead!” He was mad at Simon for making him worry.

Simon smiles under his mask and warps his own arms around Y/n, relieved to see him too. “We got caught up trying to get here.” He responds back, pulling away and cup his cheeks and cleans his tears away unaware of the audience.

“Uh, what the hell is going on?” Soap finally decides to speak up by this shocking discovery.

It wasn’t until after they rescued Alejandro that Y/n tells his team about his and Simons relationship when regrouping. He expected Soap to be shocked by the news while Gaz and Price technically already knew about the relationship but never said anything about it until further confirmed. Y/n couldn’t be happier to have them.

“So what do we do about Graves?”

Everyone turns to look at Y/n waiting for him to make the final call only for Y/n to surprise everyone by his response.

“Do whatever you want.”

He lets Price take the lead on this one, coming up with plans to get rid of Graves and his men after what he did to them. Y/n remains at the safe house along with the others, guiding them through the coms where he was safer and giving out clear orders on Graves location when they all went back to base.

The entire day was hectic, taking down Graves and Hassan on the same day and recovering the last missile gaining a victory. Everyone was finally able to relax and head back home to rest before being called out to another mission. Things were fine until they weren’t.

After a year since their last mission, Y/n had spent most of his time at base, helping out with the simple things and helping Price out as always. Until he received anonymous messages through his private number the only one who knew his number was Simon along with Price and the others and no one else. He received the text the day that Simon went out with the others for a drink, staying back home to relax for a bit until eh got that message.

He was about to ignore it until private information about him and his entire team was sent to him, threatening him to listen or else his friends faced the consequences. Y/n would have taken action to find out who was messaging him and take them down quickly only to realize that this person knew far more than anyone about him and Simon. He was forced to keep these message hidden from Simon if he wanted to prevent a lose.

Y/n knew that Simon was smart and would slowly grow suspicious by his constant phone checking and the amount of times that he’d flinch out of fear when receiving those messages. Simon wasn’t one to jump to conclusions, especially with his lover but the amount of time that he kept his distance was slowly irritating him.

Simon was able to corner him in his office when back at base after finding out about Makarovs escape. “Somethings wrong.” He points out, getting Y/n’s attention as he leans back against the wall that he’s caged in. “Nothings wrong.” Y/n couldn’t allow Simon to know that was responsible for Makarovs escape at the prison.

“You’ve been distant and quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

“Not this quiet.” Simon knew him well enough to see the smallest changes.

Y/n’s anxiety grows by the second as Simon looks him dead in the eyes. “I’m worried about Makarov.” He blurts out, trying to throw Simon off from his real worry. “The most dangerous man escaped and we can be facing something far bigger and I’m worried on what we have planned.” He continues on, noticing how Simon finally relaxes when getting an answer even though it wasn’t the truth.

“Will get him and stop him before anything else happens.”

“And if we can’t?” Y/n wants to tell Simon the truth, but he can’t risk losing him. “We will.” He feels his gloved fingers caress his cheek as a way of soothing his worries.

“Now lets figure out how to take down Makarov.”

Y/n spent the last hour listening to Price form out the plan, memorizing every little detail in order to report it back to Makarov. It took him some time to figure out that the man he’s been communicating with was none other than Makarov, threatening him and his friends for information about their plans to stopping him. As guilty as he felt doing this behind their backs, behind Simon’s back he had no choice but to do it.

After their meet up he’d find a way to communicate with the Russian man sending him everything he knew about their plans only to get a response back from with a notification of millions of dollars being transferred to his banking account. That pushes him over the edge, his anger getting to him as he throws his phone against the wall, smashing it into pieces as he groans in anger. He was doing this to save his friends not for money and yet Makarov goes and pushes all the right buttons.

Because of Makarov the transfer was shown under the list of information trading. When Simon and Soap were sent to interrogate Milena about Makarovs next location they were expecting themselves to find some answers only to come up with more questions when Y/n’s name shows up on the list.

Soap is the first to point it out to Simon when it shows up on the computer. The two refuse to believe that Y/n had been communicating with Makarov only for Milena to laugh at the two.

“Why do you think Makarov isn’t here? It’s all thanks to your little birdie on the inside.” Her own lips form a mischievous grin when Soap glanced over to Simon who remained quiet under his mask, clearly processing everything and denying the fact that his own lover would turn their backs on them. On him.

“You’re wrong.”

Milena raised a brow as she crossed her arms. “Am I?’ She questions. “He told Makarov that you were coming for him, told him about the plans and the bombings and now he knows about the stations.”

Simon stops himself from killing the women, not believing a word she’s saying only to think back to their previous failed missions. Every time they were close to getting Makarov he always escaped them clearly finding a way around the problem as if he knew about them. Simon left the island fuming, anger boiling inside of him as they flew back to Makarovs last destination a base hidden in the train station.

Soap can tell that Simon isn’t happy about the discovery of Y/n betraying them and working for Makarov. He knows not to ask about it since the man was already too upset to even talk about it and focused on their arrival. Simon communicated with Price and Gaz about the location and to meet them there.

Getting down to the station was chaos due to Makarovs soldiers trying to kill them resulting into him and his team getting separated and laving Simon on his own as he takes down as many soldiers as he can. From the corner of his eyes he spots Makarov getting through the station. “Makarov spotted.” He speaks through his coms, alerting the rest of his team.

“Take the shot!” He hears Price shout from the other end getting permission to kill Makarov.

Before Simon could take the shot he’s shoved to the side when the other side of the station explodes, ruble collapsing around him as he groans and leans back against a wall. His ears are ringing by how loud the explosive was and the amount of shouting he hears through his coms is ignored as he tries to get up, feeling pain shot up from his arm makes him wince, realizing that he’s injured. The place is merely collapsing and knows that he has to get out of the station before its to late.

As he gets up from the ground he hears a giant grown across from him, holding his gun up as his eyes land on one of Makarovs soldiers. He was to pissed off to care about their injures and cocks his gun only to stop when the soldier coughs harshly, reaching up to remove their own helmet and mask, revealing Y/n’s face.

Simon froze when his eyes land on him.

Y/n groans and placed a hand over his abdomen where he feels pain and turns to his side, trying to get up only to gasp when he hears the sound of a gun cocking, looking over his shoulder to face Simon.

The two are frozen in place unable to move by the realization in their faces. Y/n wants to speak up to defend himself from everything but knows that he can’t not after what he’s done. He slowly moves to stand, hand still on his abdomen as he keeps his eyes on Simon and a hand out in surrender.

“Simon…”

“Don’t.” Simons voice is harsh, hand tightening around his gun.

Y/n expects that tone as he shuts his own mouth. It wasn’t until rumbling is heard, the walls around them were about to collapse and they had to get out before it was to late for them. “The place is going to collapse we have to go.” Y/n tries to convince Simon to follow him out of the subway station if they didn’t want to get crushed.

“Simon.”

“Why?” Simon finally speaks up. “Why should I go anywhere with you?”

Y/n swallows nervously. “Look I can explain once we get out of here.” He takes a step forward to try and pry the gun from Simon only to freeze when Simon holds it up, keeping it pointed at him. Y/n knows that Simon won’t kill him if he wanted to he would have already.

“You were helping Makarov you helped him escape you helped him do all of this.” Simon nods at their surroundings the place was full of faint screams of panic from the citizens and the sound of his teammates voices were close by as they shouted for Simon. The place was falling apart all because of Makarov.

Y/n’s breath was picking up, grown into panic as he quickly tries to explain himself. “I didn’t know it was Makarov he was going to kill you—I didn’t have a choice—!”

“How long have you been lying to me?”

His breath hitched when hearing Simon’s words, unable to respond back as he opens and closes his mouth, words caught in his throat. He’s been helping Makarov since the beginning of everything and telling Simon wouldn’t change his mind about him.

Not matter what he says or what he tries it wouldn’t work. He’s broken the trust between them the trust that Simon gave him only to see it crumble away. Y/n takes a cautious step forward, ready to apologize for his mistakes only for the place to crumble, giving them both the time to escape. Only this time they don’t escape together.

[cyberapid]

Loved your view on Carrier instincts from Ratchet's point of view. I would love to see a part 2, Sire instincts from Optimus' point of view if possible.

Thank you so much!! I hope this is ok! I love the idea and had like three different drafts before I settled with this lmao.

Wasn’t sure how I wanted to handle sire protocol but I’m kinda satisfied? I thought like overprotective and kinda clingy would be interesting.

Little hurt/comfort and a lot longer

Pt.1 Pt.2

•-•-•

This was a simple retrieval that really only required two bots if all went well, get past the miners undetected, retrieve as much energon as possible, sabotage what you can, and get out. Ratchet had emphasised, excessively, the undetected part much to the annoyance of the small bots given the task.

Once the two were gone Optimus had occupied himself in Ratchet's makeshift med bay, much to the older bots annoyance, by picking up some of the broken equipment littered about but a black servo had smacked his own away. Looking down he’d met Ratchet's fierce glare, “Optimus I can barely think with your racket. Also, stop touching my things. I may need them,” he abruptly turns with a dramatic vent, continuing to track the signal of the two bots within the mines; Audials alert in case a quick exit is necessary.

The prime settled to instead linger behind his bonded, arms wrapped around his middle and servos held firm on cold metal. They watched the monitor as the two blinking bots made their way slowly through twisted corridors, avoiding working Decipticons. There was no real need to continually watch with Ratchet, their very capable Medic, on the job but something within Optimus’ processor made even entertaining the idea painful so he settled with being Ratchet’s secondary optics.

“Are you ill? I swear you’ve been clingier than normal,” Ratchet’s tone is twisted with frustration as he attempts to escape the others grip and get a better look up at him but firm, larger servos keep him in place while attempting to stay focused despite the movement, “are your brain circuits. fried, Optimus? Let me go!” Annoyance bursts through their shared bond as the medic attempts to free himself, uselessly.

The bickering pulls all attention away from the computer as the bonded pair complain and soothe respectively, missing the sudden company that surrounded the two spies. They miss the visual but Acree’s voice pulls them away from each other and back towards the monitor. “We’ve been spotted. Bee’s on the sabotage part already so just keep the bridge ready,”

Ratchet is quickly turned back to his monitor answering the femme, “Groundbridge is locked onto your coordinates and ready when you are,” anxiety fills the shared bond from his mates side and parts of this leak into the connection with their youngling, disrupting the usual contentment that flows through. Optimus feels his spark twist and anger flow through his processor, he attempts to cut the feeling off before it reaches his connection to his family but the sudden stiffness under his servos tells him he didn’t block the connection quick enough

“Open the Bridge, I’ll assist.” His request is met with a fuzzy scoff as his mate turns to him,

“Absolutely not. They’ve almost completed the mission and your being there will only make it worse,” anger flares further and he feels the involuntary twitch of his digit; deep in the logical side of his processor he knows his dear friend is correct but any logic he might of had is squashed by the fear that overwhelms him, consumes him. Something will happen to his creation and he stood by doing nothing.

The sudden anguish that fills their bond with the young boy startles them both from the intense stare off they’d engaged in, “scrap, Bee got hit! Open the bridge now I’m grabbing him. Bee put th-“ her comm is cut short but the two bots are quick to jump to action, a silent understanding as ratchet pulls himself away from groundbridge controls and off to prep med bay while Optimus takes over and activates the bridge.

The familiar whirl of the groundbridge echoes through the base along with the clanging from the medbay, Bulkhead's heavy steps alert the Prime to his entrance.

The Wrecker stands at the edge of the groundbridge's opening, in a tense observation, “should I head in and help em?” Anything their leader had to say is interrupted by Ratchet loudly exclaiming,

“Primus, no! I’ve said this twice now, you two will only jeopardize their exit. We don’t know how close they are or if the mines are large enough to house either of you,” he continues to chastise Bulkhead as Optimus turns his attention back to the portal, awaiting the sound of fleeing pedes. It takes far too long and his plating crawls at the sound of scraping metal that comes from the bridge.

The pain is searing to have to stand and make sure they clear the bridge before powering down the machine, he fights every instinct telling himself to forget the bridge and rush to his injured creation; to sooth his fears. He’d failed, again to protect what is his, what relies on him.

Then he failed to be the first to offer comfort as the white and orange mech rushes towards Acree who’s struggling to hold Bee up, who’s unable to walk with one pede as the other is non operational, spilling far too much energon from busted cabling.

He relieves the smaller scout of his creations form and transfers him onto the awaiting medical berth with care not to irritate any wounds further. Optimus is quick to trail behind him once the bridge is secured, narrowly avoiding stepping Raf thanks to Bulkhead who, as gently as possible, grabs the boy out of the way.

A quiet buzz sounds from Bumblebees intake at the sight of his creators and he sends pulses of joy through their bond which Optimus returns in large quantities to make up for his bondeds neglect of it, who instead focuses on the care of the scouts leg. A sudden shrill sound pulls him from flooding the bond with comfort, “Ratchet! Careful!”

The offended mech looks up from his work and lets out a distorted guffaw, “excuse me? You really have shorted your circuits!” Anger explodes from both sides of their shared bond.

A sudden squeeze of his servo kills any further complaints he has, instead he looks down at his creation who whirls sadly. A steady rumble leaves his intake in an attempt to sooth him and it appears to work as his optics dim, a sated calm pulses through the three way bond, and his engine lulls to a calm rumble. The calm allows Ratchet to work quickly and without interruption.

Silence settles into the silo and Optimus finds himself sparing a glance at his bonded who’s taken to working silently; A sturdy wall between their connection, “Ratchet-“

“Not now” his answer is short and his helm doesn’t raise from the damaged leg of their sparkling, experienced hands working for an amount of time Prime isn’t sure of but he knows it drags on far too long— leaving him with stirring remorseful thoughts.

•-•

Every person or bot has retired for the night or left the silo leaving the bonded pair and an unconscious, but stable, Bee. They haven’t spoken since the short outburst between them with Ratchet busying himself cleaning the mess left in medbay and Optimus watching over the resting bot.

He’d had time to mull over his actions leaving a nasty churn in his tanks, “my dear friend?” Ratchets shoulders tense up and his vents stall out as the equipment he’d been gently pushing into size order clatter to the ground,

“What,”

“I owe you an apology,” he reaches his free servo out to the other mech, expectantly, “please.” There’s a loud sigh as Ratchet accepts his hand and walks closer, settling himself in front of Optimus and beside the Berth for just a moment before an clattering sounds throughout the silo and the medic finds himself uncomfortably sat on the primes lap,

“What was that!” His servo collided with the side of Optimus’ helm reflexively before panicking and checking the slight dent as the other laughs. “Why would you do that! It’s hardly an apology,”

“Yes, you’re correct. I do apologize though, I was out of line for reprimanding you. Especially when you are far more experienced than I am in that field,” there’s a faint hum that leads into a purr from the mech above him— the walls that had been built up come down and contentment eases through their bond. The medic turns to look at their creation, free servo running over scraped yellow plating,

“I need to run diagnostics on you, your demeanour change is strange,”

[queercanon13]

The Karma music video is packed with queer and sapphic themes. But what’s with that yellow beret?

We all watched the Karma music video on Friday (or Saturday), right? And then we all watched it ten more times because there IS JUST SO MUCH THERE. Right?!

I can’t even begin to unpack the whole thing yet, but let’s talk about the yellow brick road scene.

Taylor is obviously wearing ruby slippers (“the rubies that I gave up”) alluding to Dorothy/the Wizard of Oz. But she’s not wearing the rest of Dorothy’s getup. That’s because she’s not Dorothy, but in fact a friend of Dorothy.

She’s holding a broom (lots of witchy themes from her lately) and blows a kiss of blue (iykyk) glitter to three grim reapers (the two SBs and…?).

She’s keeping her side of the street clean, which harkens to the YNTCD MV where she clearly shows which side of the street she’s on:

Other things of note: it appears there are daisies embroidered on her collar, as well as growing along the yellow brick road. Her braids are also looped (“your braids make a pattern”).

The yellow brick road itself may be a nod to Elton John and his album/song Goodbye Yellow Brick Road. Here are some of the lyrics from that song, as well as a generally accepted analysis of the lyrics:

&

Seems like it would be super relatable to Taylor, right? Add in Elton John’s queerness/coming out journey, and the parallels continue.

There are probably a hundred other things I’m missing just from that scene alone, but what I really wanna talk about is the yellow beret, especially in light of current news surrounding Taylor.

When I saw the yellow beret, I furiously googled “yellow beret” + the names of Taylor’s muses, but I came up empty-handed. Because Taylor is specifically not wearing a Dorothy costume, I knew that fucking hat had to mean something. Then I remembered — isn’t yellow beret a military term? And we know she loves a good war story. To Google I went, and the results did not disappoint.

During the Vietnam war, all physicians in the US had a mandatory draft order. One of the ways to avoid the draft was to apply for a position with a Public Health Service program called the NIH Associates Training Program. Because the elite program was highly competitive, only a small percentage of doctors were able to serve their required military time without going to war.

Yellow beret was a self-deprecating and derogatory term used by and for doctors who avoided getting a green beret/going to war (yellow can be associated with cowardice, i.e. “yellow-bellied”) via the NIH program.

Sounding familiar? But wait there’s more.

Bob Seger wrote a song in 1966 called The Ballad of the Yellow Beret. It was written as a parody of the song The Ballad of the Green Berets. Here are some of the lyrics (I encourage you to read all of them!):

Verse 1: Fearless cowards of the USA // Bravely here at home they stay // They watch their friends get shipped away // The draft dodgers of the Yellow Beret

Okay, I’m seated.

Verse 3: Men who faint at the sight of blood // Their high-heeled boots weren't meant for mud // The draft board will hear their sob stories today // Only the best win the yellow beret

Oooookay.

Verse 4: Back at home a young wife waits // Her yellow beret has met his fate // He's been drafted for marching in a protest //Leaving her his last request

Are you screaming yet? Just wait.

Verse 5: Put a yellow streak down my son's back // Make sure that he never ever fights back // At his physical have him say he's gay // Have him win the yellow beret

And if that wasn’t enough, two of the last lyrics are “I've got a pimple on my trigger finger” (ew) and “well, we were planning on having children sometime soon” (devastating). These themes also align with The Great War, epiphany, etc.

But despite attempts to diminish their efforts through claims of cowardice, these “yellow beret” physician-scientists contributed to some of the most important and innovative medical research we have today. Dr. Fauci attended the training program, as well as nine others who went on to win Nobel Prizes.

Could it be that Taylor is trying to tell us that, while it looks like she dodged the draft (didn’t come out), she’s doing some important mastermind shit behind the scenes? Only time will tell, but since we are now at “dawn,” I believe daylight is soon to follow. ☀️

[dontbesoweirdkira]

Can we get some more dark Raiden 👉👈

(ignore this if it makes u uncomfy at all)

Like what is like with a darling who needs a wheelchair regularly, maybe the darling has a genetic malfunction with their legs idk

(based off of my legs but it's up to u)

A/N: Hii thank you so much for requesting! I absolutely do not mind writing this. We need that representation in the writing department. 😫🫶I’ve had this in my drafts for a while because I’m very cautious to hopefully not offend or make anyone uncomfortable with this. Please *respectfully* correct me if I got something wrong or may have accidentally used offensive language. I mean no harm to anyone and I want to be able to respectfully give representation for everyone!

That being said this focuses specifically on being disabled and the changes it makes in the relationship.

Warnings: Toxic and abusive behaviors, stalking, slight patronizing/ infantilization, over protectiveness, ect.

Masterlist

Requests: open 24/7

I don’t really think that the relationship would change too much other than that I think sometimes Raiden would unintentionally be a bit patronizing. (But then again when is !dark¡ Raiden not???)

Raiden loves you a lot and he knows that you’re just as capable as the others despite your disability. Your resilience and intellect alone was enough to win his evil little heart buuuttt…that doesn’t change the fact that he’s still a bit flawed in his ways

We all know this dark side of him is extremely authoritarian so he can’t help but be a little too overbearing when it comes to you.

I want to start off with some of the good things first though.

!dark¡ Raiden is sweet in the ways that matter I think. If you’re having a flare up or in pain. He doesn’t mind dropping everything to come to your aide. Even if the medication isn’t working. He’d hold and massage you until you’re feeling better.

The other nice thing about Raiden is his thick skin. You don’t phase him even on your worst days, not even when you’re a bit snippy do to your pain and frustration. He won’t take it personally. Staying up with you all night also isn’t a hassle for him in the slightest. He actually appreciates that his darling yearns for him when they aren’t feeling too well.

If physical therapy is something that you partake in, he’s eager to learn and help you the best ways he can.

Secretly searching for ways to alleviate some aches you may face with your disability, even if that means going against the elders and seeking help from darker powers.

He’s also unapologetically obsessed with you, he feels no shame when you’re beside him. He wouldn’t wish for you to be any different from how you are now.

Raiden would be just as jealous and possessive over you as he would be with an abled body S/O.

Speaking of this, he has no issues with disposing of anyone who has anything disparaging to say about you.

Oh and he especially hates when someone touches you or your wheelchair. He knows how uncomfortable it makes you when people try to wheel you or lean/sit on it without your permission. This easily sets him off.

It doesn’t matter who it is that touches it, how dare they disrespect you like that? Have they have no manners?

“I fear that I did not hear y/n speak up and give you any kind of consent to touch their chair. Release your hands from it or I will do it for you..”

He’s 100% willing to be your advocate anytime you may need. I mean honestly you don’t even have to ask, he’s tussling the second he sniffs an ounce of disrespect towards you. Lol

Okay here is some of the more unfavorable headcanons. This touches on a bit of patronizing behavior and infantilization. I feel like Raiden would struggle with doing this a bit in the relationship.

Raiden doesn’t like when you go off or do things without telling him first. Yes, you are capable of protecting and providing for yourself. Even though he’s seen this capability first hand, he just can’t help thinking about if something were to go wrong. What if that day you’re too fatigued and you end up hurting yourself?…or worse…what if someone severely injures you? what then??

This is why he prefers to keep you couped up in his temple, right by his side. He even had things around there altered to perfectly suit you.

No more stress about the outside world and how frustrating it can be for a wheelchair user. Plus Raiden made arrangements so you can have 24/7 access to outworlds best doctors and remedies to help with any issues you may run into.

How could you even think of leaving when you got everything you need right here?!

Best of all, he knows exactly where you are at all times in the temple and it keeps his mind at ease that you’re okay.

He has a bad habit of immediately rushing to assist you with very mundane tasks and sometimes wheeling you even when you don’t need it. (Ironic because he hates when other people do it to you but because you’re his darling he thinks it’s automatically okay for him to.😭)

This has to do him worrying about your safety and trying to make your life easier but it instead makes things worse.

Raiden can also quite bossy with what he allows you to do and what he doesn’t. Sometimes this means speaking to you very sternly and even down to you. This often ending up in a back and forth with each other.

To him he’s just doing what’s best to help keep you safe and according to him these rules will ensure that. Raiden couldn’t live with himself if you got hurt, especially when he could easily prevent those things. This is his way of loving you, he genuinely doesn’t mean any harm to his darling by doing this.

You protest this behavior and tell him how hurtful this can be for you but I fear it might take a little while for him to fully realize what it is that he’s doing wrong. Just like a lot people in everyday life, he’s convinced he knows what’s best for you.

“I’m afraid I do not understand, Y/N. How is keeping you safe, hurtful? I can assure you I am only simply doing the duties as your lover.”

he’ll slowly give in by letting you go out and do things “without” him. Just know that he is always lurking behind each and every corner making sure that you’re safe.

And if he can’t, he’ll send a servant to hang around you and report back to him.

Yeahhhhh. I know. He’s so damn-

Just bear with him, he doesn’t process others feelings the same way as you and I. Empathy isn’t his strong suit but he will try his best to correct any errors, simply because he does truly love you.

Notice I said ‘try’. He’ll try but there are just some things he just won’t budge on. !dark¡ Raiden can be stubborn and rather selfish at times if he seriously believes in what he is doing is right.

For example you are absolutely not allowed to be anywhere near the tournament or Kombat in general. He doesn’t care that you may fight well. It’s far too dangerous for you. He will immediately shut down any conversation that has to do with it.

But I will say that I don’t think that this really has to do with the fact you’re in a wheelchair. I think he’d be against any of his darlings doing anything that could potentially harm them. He’s already lost so much, he refuses to let you go too.

I can also see him occasionally brushing you off when you offer to do certain tasks. He’ll immediately order someone else to do it even if you are the better fit.

(There he goes babying you again)

“I appreciate your willingness to help but your efforts will not be needed. Stay here and rest, Y/N. Liu Kang will handle this task instead.”

I guess one other change is that maybe he’s a bit more physically gentle with you?

I could see him being a bit more restrained when it comes to punishment? I think they’d be more among the lines of mental harm or emotional deprivation. (Locking you up, social isolation, food deprivation, avoiding affection ect.)

He’s cautious of man handling and weary of using his electricity too close to you because he’s afraid that it might conduct through the metal on your chair. No matter how angry he is with you, you’re the one person who Raiden would never turn against like that.

I think the only times he’ll get physical is when you’re being extremely defiant towards him when he’s trying to “protect”you.. He wouldn’t hit you but he’d pull you, carry and throw you down roughly. Worse he’d do is bruise you from his grip on you.

Ultimately though I feel like Raiden is just a bit more ignorant with some things. He really hadn’t spent time around humans on a deep emotional level so I think he’ll do unacceptable stuff sometimes. I don’t feel like Raiden would mind that you’re in a wheelchair or try to ever put you down because of it. He’s just so stuck in his ways at times he comes across a bit…::

Like I said I think He would be just as overprotective with any-other darling, only some thing’s slightly change.

[r3linx]

⇄ ◁◁ 𝚰𝚰 ▷▷ ↻ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ⁰⁰'²⁵ ━━●━━───── ⁰²'⁰⁸

╰┈➤ characters...•`GEPARD, WELT, DAN HENG´•.

˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ SYNOPSIS... the issues they may struggle in your 'blooming' relationship. ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ WORDCOUNT... 1,4k ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ WARNINGS... tw! disturbing content, gender neutral reader, obsession, manipulation, emotional dependence, overprotection, toxic relationship ˚₊·—̳͟͞͞♡ OTHER...reblogs, likes and requests are appreciated!

a/n: i made this draft like months ago, now that i have more time to write i might get back into it. this was originally planned with gepard, welt, dan heng, il dan heng and jing yuan but in the end i managed to only write this much

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ​​🇬​​🇪​​🇵​​🇦​​🇷​​🇩​​. 𓆩❤︎𓆪

＇ｐｒｏｔｅｃｔｉｖｅ＇

‘This type of yandere cares deeply for the wellbeing and happiness of their love interest, and they fear what other, crueler people with bad intentions can do to their love interest. They will be on the lookout for anything that can cause any kind of discomfort to the love interest before taking action to get rid of it. They see everything and everyone as a threat for the love interest. They will use extreme methods to get rid of other “dangerous” people permanently, and even punish and torture them for the harm they did to the love interest, even if they didn’t really do all that much.’

you loved your job. but you loved gepard even more and that was all he needed to hear to take these steps.

"stay safe, love.." his voice was dripping from uncertainty. eyebrows forruwed at you, scanning your expression his mind was wandering towards the fact how he should stay home too, protected by the walls around you, not just forcing leaving you there. what if someone attached you while he's away or something so much worse? he couldn't bear it without him going absolutely mad.

after a few months you really got used to almost being a woman whose only income was his loving husband who would do anything for her. he told you it is better for both of you. you won't get injuries out on the front line and he won't worry himself to death about your well-being. win-win situation!

the only bad part about this was the fact that at the beginning you were against it like hell. trying to confront him physically and verbally. well, unfortunately for you, you failed with both miserably and it only made him sneakily lock the door the moment he stepped outside. you never realized. that's how he knew how the blue and purple bruises were more than enough to stop you from being reckless and escape.

not that he wanted to, but for you to learn to love him again so purely like before. He had to stop that dirty habit of his and after a few weeks he gathered all of his strenght and walked off without turning back and locking the front door.

yes, you missed being a silvermane guard, but gepard's love was enough to make you forget about your past. like why would you even want to go around and do something dangerous when he's there for instead?

standing at the entrance, leaning down he pressed a soft kiss to your temple, caressing the spot with his thumb, writing down patterns on your soft skin. whispering away a final 'love you' before leaving the house for the day and you waiting for him to returne home at the night like an obedient, good wife you are.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ​​​🇼​​🇪​​🇱​​🇹​. 𓆩❤︎𓆪

＇ｍａｎｉｐｕｌａｔｉｖｅ＇

‘Seeking to get their love interest to react positively to their presence and to care about them, they manipulate their love interest’s feelings and world perception. Some might see their love interest as incapable of caring about them. Others might think that their love interest wants to feel “in love” or “happy” around them so they try to address their emotional state so that they frequently feel “in love” or “happy.’

everyone seemed so.. narcissistic and greedy in the last few days. wanting everything for themselves, not looking out for you and not being at your service like he did.

welt was always there for you and not only when there was a chance to use you for their good. he was there for you in rough times. always by your side and selflessly provides happiness, hereby you finding comfort and warmness in his powerful holds every single time he held you in his arms.

“i told you.. i told you the day you arrived here, little one, you shouldn’t get too close to anyone.” you nodded. it wasn’t the first time the taller male tried to comfort you in ways like this. sometimes it worked, sometimes it just really didn’t and his words felt more like rock heavy burden on your shoulders. as if he just wanted to brainwash protect you. making you think no one wants your happiness as much as he wants it and you’re no one’s first choice, only and only his. absurd? yes it was. but now?.. once you took a closer look to your allies’ behavior it was becoming even more and more clearer day by day.

welt was indeed right. it didn’t take him the slightest effort imaginable, your love for him made you believe every single word he even just uttered under his breath. and by now, it was natural for you to search only his company. you could’ve get used to dan heng’s cold demeanor, you could’ve help march act wiser in different situations. but before you even got the chance to firstly know about their past, welt took you under his wings since the first day. and so like that, slowly and steadily something grew within him, something that simply didn’t let you out of his reach and wanted to lock you up in a cage, just like a canary, surrounded by only his love for you.

thinking it would take more effort to put it in this long process, it was actually cut really short as soon as he realized the fact that you’re willing to do almost however he wants, sharing the same feelings he has for you, only a little more nagging and you’ll do the rest of his plan.

⋆⭒˚｡⋆ ​​​​🇩​​🇦​​🇳​ ​🇭​​🇪​​🇳​​🇬. 𓆩❤︎𓆪

＇ｓｅｌｆ－ｓａｃｒｉｆｉｃｅ＇

‘These yandere characters will give of their time, their desires, and work for whatever their love interest wants. They are willing to do almost anything for the good of their love interest and the relationship. They see self giving and self sacrifice as essential to a relationship and they, better than any other dere type, push themselves to do it more and better.’

dark and ugly dark circkles sat in the corner of his gorgues teal eyes, making it look as hideous and ugly as it could be. staring into the void, there he sat on his ragged and used mattress. the door closed behind you, though it did in fact was silent, a new person's presence could be very noticable in the room's atmosphere, especially if the so called place was so quiet, you could hear a hairpin drop on the cold ground.

your footsteps was just mere louder but overall still hushed. His head still hung low, breathing slowly, sometimes almost as if he just forgot about it.

then out of the blue he snapped his head upwards to seeing you crouching in front of him. finally, after gently shaking his shoulders repeatedly over and over again, his attention was turned towards you just like you wanted it in the first place when you entered his room. not even a word could escape your mouth, as he practically stuffed it back in your mouth by disturbing you, thick concern evident in his voice and gaze.

"do you need something?" not even a greeting.

"no- i just wanted to check--"

"it's okay, i'm on it." he said nothing more or less, cutting the conversation short, he stood up instantly, ready to make any of your wishes come true the second they get past your lips. your eyebrows instantly furrowed, following his movement but your soft hands held him by placing them on his shoulder as soon as you knew whatever he wanted to do.

"no, dan heng! just.. calm down, okay?.." stopping him in his tracks, slight suprise was noticeable on his features. why would you even do this? why would he even need to calm down in the first place? didn't you want this? it was just irrelevant.

"i just want to help you, y/n--"

"i know."

"then-" this time you cut him off with a quick and strong embrace, without a world you put your ear on his chest, listening to his peaceful heartbeat. after standing there for a few minutes you finally turned your head to meet his eyes. he still didn't know what was going on.

"i don't need you to do everything for me, dan heng..." you already had this conversation with him, not even once but his love blinded his wision in a way that he just did it again and again. he finally nodded though considering this, it won't be soon that he'll have a good rest.

𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ 𓈈 ᵈᵒ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶜᵒᵖʸ, ᵐᵒᵈⁱᶠʸ ᵒʳ ᵘᵖˡᵒᵃᵈ ᵐʸ ʷᵒʳᵏ ᵃˢ ʸᵒᵘʳˢ!

[neverchecking]

Hi I love you wirk

And I love how you call totk link sage

Also the cold attack boost outfit I love it my favorite The open back and showing his hips 🤤😋 hot

And I love the zonia

And I have a request

Can I request yandere sage x ruyla ( autocorrect Keeps fixing his name) king of the zonia daughter reader

Smut

Like the reader was sent to the future from her dad with out anyone knowing

And tells link to find his daughter who asleep not to far away from his shrine and go to a the time temple top and the zonia worker will show him the way

And they reade is a sweet flower but looks up to Link.

And link falls for her.

And won't let anyone take her even if it mean Baby trapping her please and thank you

And I love you.

At first I was like Raylu???? Then I noticed you mentioned autocorrect and I was like ah- Rauru.

You absolutely can. I love every part of this idea. I feel like a perfect companion to Sage is one that is just such a sunshiney baby.

Anyway, I meant to get this out last night after work, but I got high instead and spent an hour watching the ceiling fan. I also wrote like the weirdest draft ideas and I'm deciding if they're worth fleshing out at all.

(Sage is TotK Link!)

Also smut so MDNI! 18+

Smut CW: Breeding kink, baby trapping, reader is a little naive. Sage. He's a crusty little bastard. (affectionately) Dumbification.

It had many names, the Legend of the Dragon's Daughter. Many of which titled it as either a legend or a story. A myth. Some warned of great dangers surrounding the aura of the spirit the legend told about. Other's told of the pure divinity that this being held in the palm of their hand. The grace and adroitness that lined their very pores was spoken of so fondly by the older generations who had heard the story from their own grandparents, who had heard it from theirs and so on and so forth. The older Zora especially spoke of her in such a tone he found himself lending a little belief to the legend.

The story told of a daughter, blessed to the first King and Queen of Hyrule by the Three Goddesses themselves. A princess bestowed with the gift of beauty and grace, a beacon to the budding kingdom. There were even carvings under Hyrule Castle, hidden by toppled boulders, that portrayed her image.

And he would admit. She looked like a being having been blessed by the heavens above.

The carvings had showed an ugly side to an already bitter story. How this princess, this goddess sculpted muse, was struck down by the Demon King as a means to get back at both King Rauru and Queen Sonia. The carvings from there had been too worn down to get a clear reading, but it was enough to pique his interest. Besides, what else did he have to do? Save a princess who had no issues with leaving him to die? Deal with monsters that the people of Hyrule already knew damn well how to deal with and were no longer scared of them? Traverse the depths and all the lightroots he had already found?

At least this way, he may get some new power out of it. If nothing else, at least he had a good story for Traysi.

His first area to investigate was the sky island he woke up on. He could still spot Rauru's spirit in certain areas, understanding the solemn look he seemed to wear much more than he previously did.

It was also much easier to travel around the island this time around, which was a bonus.

When prodded for answers, something complicated flashed over the spirit's face before it settled into a Grim acceptance. One Link had worn too often right after remembering the untimely demise of the Champions.

"She was gravely injured. My precious sunshine. I almost lost her that day." He had spoken in a grave echo, eyes glazed and far off, as if seeing his daughter right in front of him. "My sister, Mineru, had offered her services in an effort to preserve her soul. I am unsure if it had worked. I haven't had the heart to look. I would be such a disappointment to her fiery heart and iron strong will to shine in the brightest ways possible. She was kept in the Temple of Time if you are at all curious."

He was. He was curious. He wanted to see this being for himself. If Rauru spoke so highly of you, it had to be worth it. And it was either this or go save Zelda, and he figured she was fine doing what she currently was for a little while longer.

At least until he looked further into this.

Walking into the temple, he hummed to himself as he looked around, spotting the blue glow of Rauru near a wall closer to the exit. He nodded solemnly when Link approached. The hand that matched his own raised to the wall, pulling forth one of those green symbols that chimed at his hand. The bricks shuffled and moved while Rauru faded out, leaving an unactive construct in front of him. It rattled to life, chirping up at him before recognizing that he was friend and not foe. The Construct explained that he was designed to protect the chasm the Princess was being kept in, but since Rauru had deemed him worthy, he would escort the blond to the place. It wasn't a long journey, not at all, just down a spiraling staircase with stone walls curtained by moss.

But the moment he laid eyes on you, he understood why you were hidden.

You face was lax in such a peaceful expression as your body remained weightless, suspended in a bubble of seafoam green and ocean blue. Your hair was splaying up behind you as if you were underwater with your hands clasped around a hilt of a sword. Even the sword itself was divinity in a blade, glowing a bright white from it's place in front of you. You were clad in white robes trimmed in cold with a stone necklace laced around your delicate neck, those same white earrings hanging from your ears.

You were...ethereal. From the curve of your jawbone to the plump flesh of your cheeks, he was enthralled by your very essence. The curve of your shoulders and the toned flow of your arms, even the dip in your collarbone-- all of it had his eyes trailing every bend and curve of your body.

What he wouldn't do to get a piece of you.

He ached to just touch your sun-kissed skin, to feel it under his palms as he held you. To feel the run of your hips, fingers gripping at the dips that decorated them. To paint them a splattering of blues and purples in a lasting reminder of who he was and what he had done to you. To bite and nibble at the flesh just to hear the kind of cries you would make.

Goddess, he couldn't imagine what your voice sounded like, but he wanted to. He wanted to hear what it sounded like while you breathlessly gasped out. To hear what it sounded like when you cried out his name in pure ecstasy as you withered underneath of him. To hear you give yourself to him entirely.

He wanted to feel your weight on top of him, to experience your hands in his hair (Or cupping his cheeks if he chose to allow himself that vulnerability), to live in your orbit, worshipping you as his one true Goddess.

His eyes landed on the same green symbol that unlocked everything pertaining to the Zonai. He raised his hand in response. It lit up a bright green before fading. The bubble shined brightly before growing, eventually popping and exposing you to the elements. Which why? You were so vulnerable like that? Why not just give you to him directly? You were at risk like this. Couldn't they SEE THAT-

Whatever invisible force keeping you suspended gently laid you on your feet, which were bare, only adorned with an anklet matching your necklace. The tip of the sword in your hand clinked against the stone floor. The echo of it made your eyes, your gorgeous, gorgeous eyes, snap open. If he thought seeing you before was captivating, this was downright...enchanting. The light of your irises positively glowed as your silently gasped, hands tightening around the hilt of the weapon. He rushed to your side as he saw your balance falter, cradling you in his arms as one of your hands came to gently hold your own temple. Even just the sound of your groan made him swallow hard, fighting the blood threatening to rush to his (dick-) cheeks.

You blinked before realizing that he was not someone you knew, pushing him away with much more force than he would expect from someone fresh out of a comatose state. The only thing stopping him from wrapping his arms around you once more was the tip of the very blade now prodding at his neck. He swallowed.

"Who are you?" You demanded, hold on the weapon shaking just a tad.

(Which was so adorable. How someone like you, all soft skin and doe eyes, expected to make someone like him, rugged scars and gnarled morals, bend to you was beyond him.)

(But he'd love to see you try anyway.)

"Where are my people?! Or Queen Sonia and King Rauru?!" Oh, you were so cute.

He wanted to decimate that innocence you carried.

With a careful hand, he gently pushed the blade aside with the back of a hand, letting a smug smirk settle on his lips. Your cheeks immediately reddened as your attention remained on him. Just as he liked it, he decided then and there. He liked having your attention (and only yours) on him. But having you acting so hostile towards him just wouldn't stand. But you didn't know any better, not yet anyway, so he'd let it slide.

He gently explained that you had been fatally wounded protecting your people, something that your parents were endlessly proud of you for-- even in death. While it was a direct shot in his, admittedly lacking, heart to be the one to tell you of the passed time and the death of your parents (The sacrifice of your father and the betrayal that lead to your mother's death), he was evidently the best and only option. He understood, on an intimate level, what it was like to loose so much time, healing yourself, while the rest of the world carried on, carrying the loss of friends and family with it. He knew what it was like. It had to be why you two were so perfect for each other.

He held you as your cried, soothing down your hair as your tears (Which should never have been shed) soaked his shoulder. While he was never interested in defeating the Demon King for Zelda's sake, he may have just found another motive.

One much more worthy of his time and attention.

<><><><>

When he first saw you, he understood why you were hidden, on a surface level.

He understood why much more on a deeper, more intimate one now.

You were so bubbly. Even when faced with the devastation of your home, you remained optimistic, greeting the constructs that roamed around happily. Bestowing your cherished kisses (Those should belong to him.) upon their cold exterior while wiping them free of dirt. Even the wildlife that had squawked and charged at him crooned and chirped under your touch, hankering for the scratches you gifted them under the chin. You saw beauty in the overrun weeds and fauna, taking great interest in the new species that had popped up.

When he took to the mainland, via shrine travel because he would be damned before you got down the same way he originally did, it seemed like you couldn't see everything fast enough. You loved exploring the caves, despite the Like-Likes baring their disgusting teeth and innards (Which he quickly disposed of), ached to get as close as possible to the chasms (Which wasn't very as he refused to risk you falling in), yearned to traverse the mountain peaks and snow dunes of the mainland (Which killed him on the inside since didn't you know how dangerous those were?!).

You were quite the adventurer, full of inexperienced naivety and unpoised curiosity. The exact opposite of the princess he knew. He forgot you were royalty have the time with your mannerisms, nothing like Zelda. Which was so refreshing.

If only you weren't so fragile. He would never admit it (Too your face at least) that he's thought of just tying you down and keeping you in his (He saw it as your shared home these days) home. It was on the far outskirts of Tarrey town (Far enough no one would hear your cries for help should it come to that) with a pasture out front so you could keep a horse nearby as a friend (Should you behave).

(It wouldn't be a young, steady horse. No, most likely an older horse who had long since retired from any sort of running or getaway attempts.)

He just needed a way to keep you stationary.

And it hit him like a Hinox. You two were walking around Hateno (It was deemed safe and far enough from Tarry Town that it was still new to you), when you stopped, let out a high enough squeal his ears pinned to his head as his head snapped towards you. You were always in his peripheral, but now you were right in front of him with his hands quickly holding your arms, checking you over for injury. There were none, but you were beaming like someone had handed you a million rupees (He would. He could. He'd do it just for you), instead redirecting his attention with a call of 'Link, look!'. He had followed your line of sight just as you began squeezing his own hands, expecting you to be aweing over a cow or goat or, Goddess forbid, a dog again (You very nearly took one of stable dogs home last time). But you weren't.

And that's when it hit him.

You were loosing any semblance of a mind you had over a small infant, strapped to their mother's back by a wrap of some sort. The babe smiled at your reaction, letting out a small cascade of giggles that had you squealing in pure joy.

That was it.

The answer was right there! How could he have been so blind?! It was right there. If he gave you a baby, his baby no less, you would have no choice but to remain dormant. You would have to stay right where he put you to not only protect yourself, but to your protect your child. He had no doubt you would do it. You were too kind, too naive, for any other option. Once you figured out you were carrying his child, you'd fall for thing, claiming it as your own before it was any bigger than an apple seed.

And from then on it would just be a matter of formalities. You'd be his for the rest of your lives.

Exactly what he wanted.

Exactly what had led up to this moment. You were nothing but a babbling, crying mess underneath of him, pulling at the roots of his hair as he folded your legs against your chest. You were pleading with him, some mindless demand that he wasn't even sure you knew what you were asking, but it was background noise. He was too focused on watching the way he disappearing into your cunt, a milky sheen coating the shaft of his cock as heavy dollops of past loads dripped past your gaping opening. It was mesmerizing the way your body reacted to him, sucking him in and fighting him every time he pulled out. Even on an unconscious level, you ached for him. Not nearly as much as he breathed for you, but that would come with time. He knew it would. He'd ensure it.

The cry of his name on your lips had the coil in his gut steadily tightening as his pace picked up, thoroughly hammering your insides. He needed to make sure he was prodded right against your cervix for this to work. He needed to get this right. He needed to father any and all of your children. Starting here and now.

Whether you knew about it or not.

You had babbled something about him pulling out too long ago, but he had...distracted you with long laps at your clit and soft nipples along your thighs. He didn't even think of truly ruining you until you were clenching your thighs around his head and drenching his bottom jaw, too gone to properly process anything going on around you.

And he'd keep it that way.

His thumb, rough and calloused, rubbed harsh little circles into your clit, feeling it pulse in time with his ministrations. You whimpered beneath him, chest arching up to push against his own as you cried out, squeezing around him. You were positively milking him for every drop he had to offer.

There was no way you didn't want his children. Not with the way you were clenching around him as he jutted as far as he could go, filling your womb once more. You laid boneless beneath him, hands dropping to hang around his neck as he took a moment to breath. Your cunt spasmed once more and his cock twitched inside of you.

"You're not done yet, are you, Princess?" He purred into your ear, making it flicker as he rolled his hips against yours, even if overstimulation rocked his entire system in a flash of shot nerves.

None of that mattered to him. He had a mission. A mission he would do anything to accomplish.

Anything to keep you as his.

Yes, the reader was holding the Light Sword. Yes, I know that's not how you get it. I just thought it would be a cool tidbit bc YES, Sage seems like the type to get turned on by a hot princess threatening with a sword.

[lightfeltmemories]

trouble trio sharing a partner.

characters include: feitan, phinks, shalnark

note: fun fact, this was left as a draft on my main for like over a year and i read over it and thought.... it would be better on here, but anyway, there's a lot of adult trio poly stuff, why not trouble trio? I have plans (just me announcing it, I already know it'll take years for me to actually go through with making said content) on making trouble trio content, fanfics and whatnot. so, here's a headcanon post about how the trouble trio would go with a polygamous relationship with the reader, nsfw themes will have a 🔞 on the side so look out! and when it comes to requesting anything similar to this..... no, i will not do the adult trio.

trigger warnings: yandere tendencies (but there's no actual yandere stuff like obsessiveness and whatever, most of it is just their normal way of showing affection), mentions of kidnapping, possessiveness, reader's eventual death, feitan carves his initials onto you because "you're his."

parts of this contain nsfw material, do not interact if you are a minor.

How It Starts

So, who are you? For them to actually even care about your existence, you would either have to be a part of the troupe or be someone they know way back from Meteor City, I highly doubt they would go heart eyes over some really stunning person they ran into on a mission or so, because looks aren't everything, right? A pretty girl, a handsome boy, or an attractive genderless person isn't gonna phase them in the slightest, unless you're powerful enough to woo them out their boots, other than that, the choices are; being apart of the troupe (which is the most likely case, since they have a chance of them all being with you more often) or you being a friend of theirs in meteor city and their feelings grew overtime.

Who would fall for your first? I'm honestly tied between Phinks and Shalnark, for Feitan it would take like 2 billion years for his crush to kick in since he isn't in tune with his more softer emotions (yet), Shalnark to me is.... odd... he seems like the type to fall for someone oh so easy but dude is like, the personified version of "don't judge a book by its cover," and the only thing Phinks got going for him is..... anger issues, so I'd go with Phinks on this one! of course when people (troupe members) ask him about his affections towards you, he denies them with the most obvious blush on his face, his infatuation isn't exactly that obvious but there are some hints like him wanting to be next to you more or even the two of you hanging out on your off days! next on the list: Shalnark, so how exactly would he fall for you? well, he'd probably get paired up with you more on missions and when he starts to hang out with you more he starts to feel himself grow fond of you more, and it slowly grows into a crush! kind of simple really. And finally after those 2 billion years are up, Feitan is up next! Everyone has this collective idea that if he realizes he has a crush on you, he'd do the opposite of his two counterparts; he'd want to avoid you so that the feelings won't grow stronger as he considers it a distraction, he may even contemplate on killing you, which is something I really hate to say since I feel like the idea is slightly far fetched for his character (i'm guilty of saying this myself but i considering the topic of that specific post i wanted to be dramatic) but I can see why people think this, killing you only goes if you aren't a member of the troupe but since you are, he'd have to deal with you, forcing himself to accept the fact as time goes by that he is in love with you, he's confused with his feelings when it comes to you, he isn't used to crushes, no one to him is that special for him to fall for, love is very sacred to him, it's something he and the others mentioned above haven't really experienced, and as it grows, he starts to form a soft spot for you as he gets to know you well, he starts to find parts of you that made him like you to begin with. (ik Feitan's is kinda longer than the others but I'm biased he's my fav).

How would they act around you? This was really hard to do for some reason but I already stated above that Phinks would hang out with you more and would be near you a lot, at first his affections towards you wouldn't be too different to how he acts towards others, for someone like him he's pretty good at hiding his infatuation, though over time he's starting to loose the "I have a crush on Y/N" allegations, the others would tease him a little for how he acts around you, he shows to have more sympathy and affection for you, like he's more handsy with you than everyone else, and is most definitely protective over you, he really is a girly girl, ain't he? Shalnark is a bit more happier when he's in your presence, he opens up with you way more than everyone else (when you two are alone ofc) and plays video games with you, he'll never give you a break and let you win though, he's just too good! (And competitive) May not be as protective as Phinks but he damn sure isn't gonna let you getting injured slide. Feitan once again is an interesting case, since he's come to terms with him being infatuated with you, the signs will be waaaay more subtle than Phinks', you would lowkey be left confused, like something tells you he likes you but you can't exactly prove he does, you're seen with him more often, he talks to you more, but in the beginning that's about it really, but overtime he gets more handsy with you like Phinks but not as much, he would most definitely tease you when he's in a good mood, giving you nicknames and such, and of course, very protective over you.

Confessing & Relationship

Finding out they all like you! When they start to see one of the other become more affectionate towards you, shit starts to get real, a scenario where Feitan sees you and Shalnark playing a newly released game, the both of you are so happy, laughing and all, and Feitan is hiding somewhere and just stares at the both of you, the worst scenarios are running through his mind, are they dating? do they like him? he wants to do something about it but can't because for one troupe members can't fight and two, he sees how happy you are, how can he ruin that? Another scenario is the old fashioned switcheroo where you and Feitan are getting a little too handsy with one another, he's got his hand on your thigh and your hand on his shoulder, Shalnark is now in Feitan's shoes, bad scenarios running through his brain thinking the two of you have a thing for each other, a part of him wants to step in but he can't. It's kind of subtle at first until everything starts to build up, they can see each other's jealousy seeping through, let's say Phinks was the one to save you from an attacker and Feitan wasn't quick enough, a glare is shot at Phinks' way as he sees the way he's holding you and reassuring you, and he catches it, he's confused, what the hell is going on? Another scenario where the troupe is having fun or whatnot and you and Shalnark are laughing about something a little too hard, he spots both Phinks and Feitan seething in jealousy, he's also confused! Until it all hits the three of them; they all like you!

Them finding out..... So, when they finally sit and conversate about the rising tensions between them to solve it, they come to the conclusion that you are the reason why, how will they go about this? They all have a goal in mind; a monogamous relationship with you, they are all trying their absolute hardest not to start anything between them, they were all on good terms until this very incident, they had no idea what to do about this, their own friends are crushing on the same person they want, and the tensions can only grow from here, and beyond this point things can go either north (good) or south (bad) really quickly. From here on out, they challenge themselves to impress you so that one of them finally gets you, an unspoken rule, until they realize that you like all three of them, and things grow extra confusing, they're happy because "yay they like me!" but also mad because "grrr they like him back!!" So everyone involved is kinda like.............. "omg??"

Poly? So, because everything came out, they all like you and you like all of them back, they're stuck here wondering how this will work, a polygamous relationship isn't even a thought to them because they just want to have you, and it may be one of your biggest fantasies, you eventually let it out that you want all of them at the same time and because of their confusion you would have to explain to them, they argue that it's not going to work well, since for one, they are all territorial when it comes to you, Feitan is most definitely the worst one since he's never exactly felt this feeling before and it's most likely his first crush and potential relationship, and since you're pretty special to him he doesn't want to lose you to someone else, in all honesty he'd probably kidnap you and hide you away from Phinks and Shalnark if you weren't apart of the troupe, so you can be his forever, yayyy, we love yanderes!!!! Phinks is in the middle, while yes he wants you to himself he doesn't want to admit that he would want to at least give it a chance, Shalnark is pretty chill, the idea of him having you to himself is nice also, but a polygamous relationship would probably solve all this conflict between them.

They Agree, so The Relationship Starts Here! So they decided that just for you, they would all agree to date you, of course at first this doesn't sit right with them since they want you to be with one of them, but they're also like... shit, I mean we all technically got what we wanted so we might as well make the best of it!

Small Miscellaneous Things

When they don't receive enough attention. Despite you all agreeing on a polygamous relationship, they all still get jealous whenever one is getting more attention than the other, when Phinks isn't receiving enough attention he gets more agitated, prone to more outbursts and will even straight up pull you away from the other, when Shalnark isn't receiving more attention, he would tap your shoulder or find ways to annoy you like hugging you or getting in your face, when Feitan isn't receiving more attention he finds ways to get yours by breaking something like a glass cup so that you can at least say a few words to him even if they aren't exactly the most kind, or staring at you for an ungodly amount of time to the point where you can physically feel his eyes on you, or like Phinks, will pull you away from the other so that you can be with him more.

🔞 What sex is like! Sex isn't too different from the usual, you can't really have group sex with them often since shit gets competitive real fast, they will go above and beyond to make you cum the hardest and scream the loudest, but when one or two of them so happens to be away, Feitan will make marks on your body to be territorial, so show the other two or to other people outside that he was the one who made that mark there, and it's even worse because he puts them in places that aren't exactly the easiest to cover, either it be a bite mark or a scar that spells out his initials. Shalnark will mark hickeys on your neck or will have photos of you having his cum dripping on your face or you laying beside him just completely slutted out and send them to the other two just for giggles, Phinks won't do anything outrageous (he can't you'll fucking die) but will have you wear his clothes afterwards to let the other two know when they get back who fucked them out ;).

Things start to get better! Overtime they start to realize that the petty fights over who gets to spend more time with you are meaningless, and that they all love you and you all love them, it takes them a while for them to come to these terms, but in the end, it gets better for the future, and everyone loves each other, movie nights aren't filled with who's chest you get to lay on anymore, sex isn't "who gets to make them cum harder" more, you don't feel as if you're some type of prized possession, you're now treated with actual respect and love and consideration, of course there's fights here and there like any other normal couple, but life is good.... for them anyway.

You were murdered! If they ever come into your house to find it ransacked, their first priority is to see if you're alright, they find your body laying in your room, devoid of all life, shit starts to get real, they never rest to look for the one who did this to you, since Shalnark has cameras hidden away around the house, it doesn't take long to find out who did it from hacking and such, and once they find them, it takes so much to not just rip their head to shreds and feed it to wild animals, Feitan wants to give them the worst of all of his tortures, and afterwards they die by their phinks blowing their head clean off their shoulders or shit maybe shalnark will do it.

[oddballwriter]

The Second: Go Around

Summary: Upon some further reflection and revelations, Steven finds out that he may have ruined something that he didn't know was there in the first place. But he doesn't even have enough time to think on that due to an unexpected event.

Warnings: Angst, pining, implied unrequited pining, jealousy, sudden turns in plot near the end, mentions of kidnapping and a character getting kidnaped along with an attempt to kidnap the reader

Author’s Snip: Surprise! I've been cooking this up in the drafts for a while now. Technically, it was done, but I was in the trenches of studying for finals week and wanted to see if I could add to it once everything was done. But I figured that this was great as is. So she got a little bit of extra time to marinate.

Notes: This will in fact be a series on my blog so be sure to give some support for a part three.

I’ll shut up now. Enjoy! And don’t be afraid to request.

Word Count: 1,171

Taglist: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @autismsupermusicalassassin @spicydonut25 @ominoose @iheartlovesickmen

It should be fun, meeting your best friend's childhood friend. But it leaves something sour in Steven's mouth and puts a pit in his stomach. Something about seeing it, being in the atmosphere of it, hearing jokes and laughs fly by like rapid-fire but not feeling involved in it. Not being in on the joke or being in the dynamic. It plucks at the strings in his heart in all the wrong ways. But he doesn't know why.

You clearly want the two key halves of your life to combine and get along but something inside of him bars him from fully doing it. He sits there listening to you laugh and smile at everything Samson says meanwhile he only gets a nod, and then it's right back to Samson.

You do talk to him of course. You prompt conversation between the two of them but he bars up when Samson starts talking. He seems to just naturally take up all the attention with his stories and references.

It feels torturous when it's meant to be joyous.

Steven can't put the feeling into words until Marc says it.

"Jealousy" he says.

"You're jealous that that Sammy guy is getting all of her attention instead of you," Marc explains. Steven scrunches his nose in disagreement, "I am not." he claims.

"Steven, you just sit there and silently sulk while you watch them talk, and then when they do involve you you just pass it off and then continue to sulk till whatever hang out the three of you are doing is over, and then you sulk a little more." Marc bluntly lays out. "I just don't know what to say. I feel like a third wheel when I'm with them." Steven says to defend his so-called sulking. "Then just talk to her for a bit and then if Sammy comes in you go off that." Marc recommends, "I know you don't do good with new people but I'm sure it'll be fine, they can just translate what gets lost." Marc points out, mentioning that you could act as a safety shoot for Steven.

"It feels inappropriate though, I feel like if I say something then it'll be awkward. I'm outside of their dynamic." Steven excuses.

"You want to know what's inappropriate, Steven?" Marc asks, "Making out with someone right in front of your friend while on a mission to stop the uprising of the apocalypse that they've accidentally been involved in." Marc mentions, "That's third wheeling." Marc concludes. "I get it, shame on me for kissing Layla. Thanks. The punch to the face really sent some mixed signals." Steven remarks sarcastically. "That is not the conversation we're having right now, Steven." Marc claims. "Well, then what is the conversation, Marc?" Steven questions.

Marc sighs, "I'm sorry to break it to you, but after all the signs, you don't get to be jealous because her childhood friend is in town." Marc says. "Excuse me? What are you on about? What signs?" Steven asks. Marc pinches the bridge of his nose in disappointment, "Damnit, I really didn't give you enough social awareness when you reformed after mom died, did I?" Marc grumbles.

"All the times she would make time to be around you. The times she could go out of her way to sit with you when you were on lunch break at the museum and then visit the museum to drop by the gift shop and talk to you on your shift. Going to your flat to watch documentaries with you. All the compliments, and comments, and check-ins, and phone calls. And the time she bakes vegan cookies for you." Marc lists off, sparing no detail. Steven stands there as Marc goes off, slowly and almost painfully coming to the realization as he goes on and on, finally seeing it and having it hit him.

"She liked you, Steven. She liked you a lot." Marc says. "She was practically giggling and twirling her hair like a schoolgirl anytime she talked to you." Marc adds.

Steven continues to stand there, shocked at this revelation and the stupid amount of time it took him to finally see it. Steven can only bring himself to ask "What... do I do now?".

"Well, that depends," Marc answers, "Do you like her back?" he questions. Steven thinks about it further and much to his own horror and dismay, he feels the feelings bloom from his chest, unpleasantly violent. Steven never answers but judging by the "hm" from Marc, he can see the blushing horror all over Steven's face. "That's unfortunate, Steven," he says.

"I really wish I could fix this for you, but I don't think I can, buddy." Marc solemnly confesses. "No..." Steven mutters, in denial, "You can manage something. You're good with people and getting them to turn around. I'm sure you can help me with something. Wingman something up for m-" Steven babbles, trying to reason out a way. "Steven, I think too many things are in the way of that now." Marc breaks to Steven, "You're not just Steven anymore. Now it's you, me, and Jake, not to mention that this whole thing also involves Layla too. And you might be a bit too late for the ship. She's probably taken her loss and moving on." Marc explains.

"So I should just move on too after just finding out about all this?" Steven asks.

"You do what you want Steven, but I can only help you so much. This is your own can of beans that you need to sort out." Marc says, "But you might have a disadvantage now instead of an advantage.".

Just as Steven taking it all in and what Marc is implying when saying that Steven has a 'disadvantage', he hears frantic knocking at his door.

He warily goes over to the door, unsure of who would be trying to see him right now, but when he looks through the peephole, and sees you looking panicked and continuing to knock he opens the door.

You're hysterical and look like you ran there.

"Sammy! They took Sammy!" is all you exclaim when Steven lets you in. "What? Who?" Steven asks and he gently grabs you by the shoulders to keep you steady, "Who took Sammy? What's happened?" he questions.

"These guys came out of a van and tried to grab me," you attempt to explain through sobs and gasps. Fearing that you might faint from how distressed you are Steven carefully guides you to a place for you to sit down. "They tried to take me but Sammy got in the way and tried to fight them off! I was able to get away but they took him!" you manage to explain to Steven.

"But they had the mark, Steven! They had the scale tattoo!" you exclaim.

Steven pales once he hears those words and he can feel Marc and even Jake get struck to their cores too.

How the hell are they still around and what do they want now?

[bagopucks]

T. Zegras - You And Me

✄————————————

Trevor Zegras x Reader

Requested✨

Word Count: 2.3k

Warning(s): Internet hate, emotional struggle, lack of communication.

Proofread while I was tired and delusional :)

—————————————

We were both young and distracted. Both on top of the world with our new occupations and the luck increasingly coming our way. Jack got drafted and I got my dream job in New York. We shared our excitement with one another simply because of our eventual close proximity.

I grew up going to school with the Hughes boys. I knew them well. I knew Luke the best, mostly because my little brother was friends with him. Which was really how I met Jack and Quinn in the first place. I gravitated toward Jack the most, due to his outgoing attitude and love for most things. We were always best friends. Strictly best friends.

It came as a shock to none when we got together. People were expecting it. Anticipating it. Jack and I dated, and at first we loved that, but eventually we saw through the cracks in our facades. We were playing “glorified friendship.” Jack didn’t love me like that, and I didn’t love him like that either. Sure, the fans and those on social media loved us, but they really only saw what we considered a best friendship. We may have kissed in a few photos and held hands, but Jack and I agreed that it just never felt right.

To say the least, we were both relieved and happy to have it over and done with when we broke up. We went back to fake gagging at each other and often teasing one another with comments about, “oh I can’t believe I ever kissed you,” and “why did we ever do that?”

Those comments though, had to be put on the back burner, when I met Trevor. Luke invited my brother and me out to the lake house one summer for a time. I almost turned down the offer, but my brother insisted, and I knew Jack would be there.

What I didn’t anticipate, was all of his friends being there too.

When Jack was too busy, I usually gravitated toward Trevor. Who always seemed to find me as well. He liked to ask what I was doing, drinking, eating, reading, watching.. god he just always wanted to know what I was up to. I thought it was nice.

I especially liked it when I would slip out on the back deck in the mornings to relax in the chill air, and Trevor would bee-bop out not long after, hands stuffed in his sweatshirt pouch and glasses sat on the bridge of his nose. He was often the least talkative, and I’d even venture to say shy, in the mornings.

Trevor and I became close after that. I could tell it made Jack nervous, but in the end when I asked him about dating Trevor, the middle Hughes gave his blessing.

The next summer, Trevor and I spent most of our time together at the lake house. And away from it. I took him on midnight drives. Introduced him to the wonders of rolling the windows down and screaming. He took me to his favorite mini-golf places and ice cream shops. We shared our hopes and dreams, and eventually our feelings.

Then I moved back to New York.

Long distance was shit, but Trevor visited whenever he was close enough to do so, and I visited whenever my schedule permitted. Then the second year of our relationship came, and after much discussion with my boyfriend, I made the decision to move to Anaheim.

Which was how we were eventually outed as well. People got photos of Trevor and I moving my things in just down the block from his and Jamie’s place. Which might not have looked overly suspicious, if those photos weren’t accompanied by one of us kissing too.

At first, people were happy. At first meaning maybe two days. Then I started getting comments on my social media. I started seeing people making videos and posts about how I’d dated Jack previously. People compared photos of me kissing Jack, to the one they had of me kissing Trevor.

Each new piece of content made me feel sick. Then it made me angry. Angry at Trevor’s fans, angry at jealous girls, angry at myself. Because in what world did I think this would slide by without having any issues? I was dating my exes best friend.

“Can they just shut up about it?”

I knew it hurt Trevor too, because the crazy fan girls called me a slut, but the other boy obsessed fan girls called Trevor a horrible friend. Everybody was choosing sides online. It was either;

Team Jack; which included shitting on Trevor for breaking bro-code

Team Trevor; which meant tearing Jack down for supposedly, ‘hurting me’ or ‘treating me wrong.’

Then there was simply Team Puck Bunny; where everybody attacked and berated me for jumping from guy to guy.

I wouldn’t consider it a team, more like an angry mob.

I often responded with,

“I’m sick of it too, bud. You’re not the only one.”

We went for days being frustrated, weeks even. Things simmered and simmered, then they came to a boil when I got publicly insulted in a book store.

“This is it?” I could tell the young woman had a tone in her voice, but I’d worked retail before. I knew some days just required a little bit of a hard attitude. It wasn’t until she looked up at me for the second time, that she decided to pop off.

“Did we bring Trevor’s card today?”

I was shocked. My expression spoke volumes, not to mention the way my posture quickly changed.

“What does that mean exactly?” The people behind me grew impatient, and usually I wasn’t one to cause a scene, but this girl wasn’t going to get away with such words.

“Means yours probably ran out of money after you and Jack broke up. Had to hop along to the next hockey player.”

Hop along. What a fucking joke.

I pulled my credit card back into my purse. I’d dealt with the hate for so long that at some point, I began to wonder if I did use Trevor’s money too much.

Did I talk about him too much? Mention his name too much at work? Did I get friends just because of him? How often was I really buying things and not arguing more about him handing his own card over? Was I really using him? Was Jack really upset with me?

I tried my hardest to hold back the tears as I abandoned my books at the counter. I climbed into my car, put on a pair of sunglasses, and finally let it out as I drove back to my place. It felt like I was trapped. Trapped under a microscope I didn’t want to be under. So alone. Put on a pedestal only to be laughed at. I knew Trevor was experiencing the same thing to some degree, but it wasn’t the same. The hate on him had calmed. People got over it. When would they get over me? Why couldn’t they just understand that Jack and I wanted to be friends? That we’d never been in love.

The second I got into my home, I discarded every piece of technology I had on myself. My phone, my watch, I ignored the tv and my iPad- my laptop. I made a straight line for my back deck. And when I got outside, I slammed the sliding door as hard as I could. And I cried.

I was using Trevor. Maybe people were right. Maybe I needed a normal boyfriend, with a nine to five job. Somebody who I couldn’t use and take advantage of. Somebody in my league. I just needed to hop my way out of his life and forget about him. I lowered myself into one of my deck chairs, leaning back and raising a hand to wipe at the tears on my cheeks.

Trevor needed a girl who wouldn’t accept his card. Who wouldn’t let him pay for things or gift give so much. He needed a girl who’d take care of him as much as he took care of her. That couldn’t be me. It wasn’t me. Everybody said so.

I focused in when I heard the sound of a door opening, my thoughts forgotten in a flash as I grew concerned about somebody being in my home. I sat still, and waited patiently, until I heard the glass door open. I whipped around, only to relax at the sight of Trevor. He was supposed to make things better.. did I ever make things better for him?

“Hey! I saw you pull in.. I was waiting for you to get back from the book store.” His bashful smile was one I always loved. He hated admitting that he waited for me sometimes.

Trevor quickly presented me with a small box. My face fell.

“I got you something.”

“Trevor.” I sighed out, my hand pinched the bridge of my nose. “You can’t keep buying me things.”

I turned my gaze up to him, frustrated and exhausted.

“It’s just something small. Open it.” He quickly sat down next to me, and when he held the box out, I pushed it away.

“This is the shit they hate me for, Trevor!” I shouted, I quickly took note of the hurt look on his face. “They can’t stand me-“ my voice broke. “Because they think I use you. I don’t use you!” I couldn’t tell if I was trying to convince myself at this point, or the entirety of his fan base.

Tears quickly fell down my cheeks, my face red as I tried to hold in my sobs.

“Hey, hey-“ Trevor set the box aside and pulled me into his side. “I know you don’t use me.” He cooed, his hand rubbing my back while the other grasped my thigh.

“I do. You always pay for things- and.. and I used Jack to get to you.. and I hurt Jack- I hurt Jack because we’re together,” my hysterical bumbling was nonsense. Lies I began to believe because they’d been preached too much. Trevor let me go. He let me go and get it out for as long as I needed to, listening to any and every insecurity and concern. He listened well after the tears settled and I found my composure.

I eventually turned my body to face his own, and buried my head into his shoulder.

“I don’t wanna use you, Trevor,” I choked out. “I love you so much.” He was careful in pulling me into his lap.

“You don’t, baby.. I promise you don’t use me. I love buying you things. And Jack is always telling me about how much you talk about me when he calls. He always tells me it’s nonstop. He’s happy for us. And my team is happy. Hell.. Gibby loves you.”

“Because I’m with you.”

“No. Because you’re so sweet to everybody. Because you treat them all like family, and they love having you around when we have events.”

I gripped the back of Trevor’s t-shirt with one of my hands.

“Why do you love me?” I sniffled, and lifted my face to wipe my tears on my arm. I was certain I looked like shit, but Trevor still lifted my chin to look at me.

“Because there’s nothing to hate.” It sounded extremely cheesy and cliche, but in the moment it calmed me. Nothing worked better than hearing my boyfriend say such kind things.

“There’s a few things,” I argued softly, sniffing again. Trevor cupped my cheeks and wiped the excess tears away with his thumbs.

“Nothing worth hating. Maybe disliking, but not hating.” Trevor stood his ground with a teasing tone. “I couldn’t hate a single piece of you.”

“What about the money?” I lifted my hands to grip his wrists, prying his hands from my face. Trevor sighed.

“It was never about the money until they made it like that. Why’d you start liking me?”

I paused to think, my gaze flickering around the back yard.

“Because you were easy to talk to. And eccentric.” Trevor chuckled.

“Exactly. You never cared. We’ve never even had a discussion on how much I make. I just offer to buy, and you give me such a hassle about it before I win, and I pay.” Trevor paused and smirked. “Most of the time.” My expression softened.

“There’s nothing to worry about.” I released his hands, and Trevor brushed my hair aside with one, while the other went back to wiping away my tears. “We can just ignore all the shit for a while. Try and do one of those social media breaks or something?”

“I think I can do that.” Who was I kidding? I knew I could do that. A social media cleanse with Trevor didn’t sound like such a bad thing. Time to forget about all the stress and focus solely on one another.

“There’s only two of us in this relationship. It’s not me, you, and the world. Yeah?” I never thought of it that way. I quickly nodded.

“When did you get so wise, Zig?” He leaned forward and pressed a kiss to the bridge of my nose.

“Since I started dating a book worm. You learn a lot from books.”

Who would have thought you could learn from books?

“So..” I sighed out. “One big social media cleanse?”

“You betcha.”

“All apps?”

“All apps.”

“Just me and you.” That wasn’t a question. It was a statement. A newfound relief.

“Just you and me.” Trevor responded as he leaned in and kissed me. After a moment, we pulled away.

I nodded, leaned into him once again, and sighed. Just us. Only us.

“This might be a weird time to ask, but what did you get me?”

“Oh.. yeah it was nothin’ big. Just a Ring Pop in a box. I thought it would be funny.” I stared him down. I narrowed my eyes.

“Fuck you. I want the Ring Pop!”

✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾❀✾

[mixtapedoh]

ahh idk if you’re still doing the concept moodboards but if you still are, may i request junhui + fake relationship or secretly dating au? thank uuu <3

olive notes: hi jen! i am still doing the moodboards ♡. also, yesterday i saw that the fic i wrote for you didn't post but went to my drafts instead??? genuinely, wtf, i'm so sorry that happened, and i'm going to post it tomorrow 😭😭😭.

⋰˚☆ wen junhui x secret dating! au . . .

"if your advice is to be so trusted, why aren't you in a relationship, jun?"

a sigh. immediately followed by a snort from you and inspired laughter from shua, who was never one to be afraid at finding enjoyment in his own jokes, of course, but a sigh all the same and a roll of his eyes. shua was asking for his opinion, was he not?

"yeah, junnie" — and your eyes sparkled with something infectious, like to coax a grin out of anyone you hoped to conspire with, barring, of course, someone with a willpower as strong as him — "why aren't you in a relationship?"

the man in question nudged you playfully and you leaned into the sway, silent laughter still coloring your breathing, fading and impressionistic, inspiring anyone with a desire for more.

"first i'd have to get rid of you. scaring everyone off."

and the conversation drifted from there. eventually, you all finished your meals and played the game of 'i've got the bill!' 'no; i'll pay." 'really, i owe you from last time.' and once you were all sufficiently fed and satisfied with your dance of politeness, you parted ways — joshua had to go help jeonghan with something or another, and you were easy to make an excuse of needing to run some errands. jun offered to accompany you, shua left with advice and more than enough mirth to fill his week, and that was seemingly the end of your little lunch date get-together.

it was when shua was confirmed gone that the true teasing begun.

"poor little junnie; all this affection, but no one to spoil."

"poor little (n/n), with all this teasing, but no one endeared enough to receive it."

you scoffed, and jun pulled you to the inside of the sidewalk, his fingers lacing with yours. you brought your intertwined hands to your lips to kiss them, and the two of you kept walking, indeed stopping at the supermarket like you'd told shua you would.

there was no real reason, truly, why you had jun had been dating for the last 4 months but hiding it from everyone else. just a 'why not?' sentiment that filled the both of you with giddy laughter — a silly secret that gave you an inexplicable rush. because kissing jun for the first time in the middle of his living room had been so addicting, and then immediately having to play it off afterward, when woozi walked in, oblivious to the encounter that had taken place while he was in the kitchen, had been even more exciting.

and then playing off the teasing that hoshi always entertained, trying to thoroughly convince the ever watching eyes of hao... it was a simple thrill, a cheap enjoyment. seungkwan had almost been the unfortunate friend to stumble upon your clandestine love-affair more than once, and the way that jun stumbled over the awkwardness of being near-caught would never fail to be wholly adorable and a silly kind of charming that made these first experiences between you all the more entertaining. why not? you already had your cake, why not indulge in the feeling and eat it, too?

and jun was so lenient with your every desire, in no small part due to the fact that he enjoyed the exhilaration of it, too.

after all — he thought as he came up behind you to grab a package of ramyeon off the shelf and, sticking it in the basket you held, rested his chin on your shoulder only to receive a peck on the cheek from you, absent minded, but offhandedly pulled from the deep well of where your affection for him resided — having a secret with you was all he'd wanted for longer than you could possibly know.

send me an idol + a concept & i’ll give you a little moodboard & blurb

[bookishtheaterlover7]

How Long Could We Be A Sad Song?

a/n: Well, it's here! The fic that I'm most anxious to write and post. Honestly, I wrote this and got inspiration when I was in my most upset and angsty mood. Which was a few months ago, and it's been sitting within the pages of Maddie (my writing notebook), and my drafts. And somehow through a very frustrating bout of Writer's Block, as well as, the fact that I was reminded and paired my own feelings to "Taylor Swift's You're Losing Me", put it into a moodboard and boom! This fic was born.

Normally, I'd dedicate this to a special friend. But this time, I'd like to deviate, and dedicate this to myself. Weird, I know. This time though, this fic will remind me that every emotion, and every feeling is valid and if vented properly, can and will flourish into something productive and beautiful.

Alright. That's enough talk from me. I hope you all enjoy the fic. And I also hope I didn't crush you, cause well... it's angst, what else can I say? 😆

Chris Evans x Secret Girlfriend!Reader

Requested: No

WARNINGS: Panic Attacks, Angst, Established Relationship, Relationship Drama, Sad Chris, Sad Dodger

Heartbreak Divider by @firefly-graphics

Enjoy!!!

*Y/C/F/M = Your Close Family Member

Outside, the night was quiet, and peaceful. The crickets calling into the night air, frogs singing in unison, adding to the ambiance. Even the noisiest neighbor seemed to have taken some time off from being the thorn on everyone’s side. But while the world seemed almost frozen, Y/n sat in her living room, her heart pounding in her ears, and a knot forming in the pit of her stomach after she told the Love of her Life that she wanted to end their 6-year relationship. The sad part was, Chris seemed so lost as Y/n’s words hung in the air.

“I-I don’t understand...” He finally said, looking up at her from resting his head between his legs, across their living room. The space feeling more like chasm the longer this dragged on.

“I know you don’t, Chris.” Y/n sighed, getting up from her chair, and kneeling beside Chris, before taking his trembling hands in hers, hoping to give him some comfort, knowing that he could spiral into a Panic Attack in his fragile state. She knew because, if she didn’t do it for herself, she’d do the same.

They let the silence of their built home surround them, like a warm blanket. Both knew that they were only delaying the inevitable, but they selfishly wanted to hang on to what little time they had left together.

Time felt like it slowed, as Y/n’s gaze remained focused on their joined hands. Taking her back to a time years ago, on a bench, when Chris first saved Y/n...

She had been touring New York with her family, unfortunately, the crowds were too overwhelming for her, and while they were forming their lines to enter the theater of some play, Y/n couldn’t focus her breathing long enough to look at the marquee, and her chest felt tighter and tighter, as she told *Y/C/F/M that she’d like to grab a bite from the stall she saw near a bench, a few ways back, and left before he/she/they could protest.

She took advantage of the open air, and tried to regulate her breathing, by taking slow deep breaths, before arriving and collapsing on the bench. Resting her head against the back of it and feeling and inhaling the passing fresh breeze. The tightness in her chest was still there, and she continued taking deep breaths in order to regulate her breathing, not even noticing the handsome stranger, standing next to her.

“Uh, hi! Excuse me? Miss? Ar-are you okay?” He greeted, his blue eyes gleaming, as Y/n took a big breath before answering.

“Huh. Yeah. Yeah. I’m fine, Sir. Just feeling a little overwhelmed. Is all.” She laughed, wiping her cheeks. Just noticing that there were tears running down them.

“I get that. No matter how many times you do this, or come here, it can still get overwhelming... May I?” The stranger asked, gesturing to the empty space next to her. To which she nodded and scooted over a little to give him some room.

He put his bag down between his legs, opened one of the pockets and pulled out a couple of tissues, before handing them to her. That Y/n gratefully accepted, dabbing at the corners of her eyes.

“The city is actually quite beautiful, but I’d prefer it if it didn’t have so many goings on, you know?” She said, breaking the comfortable silence that settled over them.

“Oh, I definitely know. It’s places like this right here, though, that helps.” He said, admiring the way the bench overlooked a cluster of buildings in the most picturesque way.

“Is that an invitation to meet here again?” Y/n laughed.

“Maybe... Are you going to take me up on it?” The stranger laughed, his face expressing hope.

“I might...” She smiled, holding her hand out, now being able to breathe easier.

“Y/n.”

“Chris.” He replied, taking it and shaking it.

It wasn’t until Y/n returned to the theater that she realized WHO she had just met. And it definitely took her a while to shake it off, and, even if it seemed like a fluke at the time, she was pretty sure that Chris winked at her from the stage that night.

She was thankful for how he helped her. And it just became a thing for them to do the other, even a couple years later, when Chris was presented a way to possibly earn money during the pandemic.

Y/n focused her gaze on the mantel, her mind wandering to when she and Chris first made this place into their home. Moving things around, deciding which items gets put on display, what color the walls are gonna be... Back when everything was possible.

“How time flies...” She trailed off.

“Y/N/N. Baby...” Chris cried, his voice breaking at the end. Which caused Y/n to swallow a sob too.

“How can I make this better? I can fix this for us.” He said, hopping down from the seat onto Y/n’s level on the floor.

“That’s the thing, Chris. You can’t.” Y/n cried, pulling her hands away, and wrapping them around herself, in an attempt to give herself some comfort, as well as ground her.

“This is the most cliche thing that I’ve ever said, but it’s not you, it’s me. I can’t handle it... It’s getting too much for me, and the sad thing is, it’s not even your fault, because it’s my own feelings, and you’re just doing your job...” She ranted, her heart going a mile a minute, her chest feeling tighter.

“Hey. Hey.” Chris said, gently taking her hands, placing one on his cheek, and cupping her cheek, allowing her to follow his breathing, slowing hers down.

They let time pass, just holding the other close. Letting the other’s presence bring their calm. Like always.

Chris has just realized how much of a colossal fuck up he just made. How the fuck did he not notice?! That Story went from wholesome to “What did I just do?!” in just a few hours.

His heart was racing a mile a minute, and he felt like he couldn’t catch his breath. Pacing back and forth on his balcony, the fresh air rendered useless in relieving him.

“Hey. Chris, everything’s going to be alright, okay?” Y/n said, putting one hand on his shoulder, getting his attention on her.

“Deep breaths. 2 seconds in, 3 seconds out. C’mon, Babe. Do it with me.” She smiled, helping him breathe through his attack.

Some time later, Y/n helped him onto their couch. Dodger hopping on next to Chris, allowing him to pet the little guy. She had left the room to grab him a glass of water. Which after handing it over to him, she sat down behind Dodger, hand on Chris’ knee, letting her presence and silent assurance say what words may fall short on.

“We can do this, Baby. We can work through this, fight it.” Chris said, pulling back to look at Y/n’s eyes, determined.

“No, Chris. We can’t. I can’t.” She said, pulling away, and standing so that she was facing away from him, the view from their window her only comfort in this moment.

“I know that you want to make this work, because you’re you. But I can’t let you. Do you really want to stay, when I feel like a ghost in my own relationship? I literally could send you the biggest most obvious sign, and I don’t think you’d hear me.”

“But I’m here, Y/N/N. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere.” Chris pleaded.

“Yeah. What happens when you need to go, Chris? When they need you to do something, again. And I have to see pics of you and her, knowing full well that that’s supposed to be me. On your arm, announcing our love and our relationship to the world. Taking on every comment, every hate, every piece of scrutiny, together. Instead, the world believes in that sham, because they don’t know I exist in your life.” Y/n cried, turning towards him, not even bothering to hold her tears back anymore.

Chris tried to reach out for her, but she took a step back. Not letting him hold her, knowing full well that if he did, everything will feel right, and she won’t be able to do what she needed to.

“This is just temporary, Baby. It’ll soon end, and at some point, we can walk out of those doors, and be able to show everyone.” Chris said, tears shining in his own eyes.

“You’ve been saying that for years. And honestly, you don’t even know when will it end exactly. And it’s destroying you. I know that you only did this to help your family, but it shouldn’t be at the expense of your own happiness.” Y/n said with conviction, her gaze filled with so much intensity, Chris avoided it and made his way to their room.

“You know, I’m right, Chris.”

“Well, has it ever crossed your mind, that maybe, I’m doing this for us? That maybe, it isn’t just for myself and my family? But for our future together?” Chris yelled, exasperated.

“And you know, that I have never cared about any of that! I don’t care if you’re some world-famous actor, or some rich gazillionaire, or whatever. I care about you, Chris. I don’t know why you could never see that.” Y/n sighed in disbelief, turning away from Chris, heading out the door to grab her bags and leave, forever.

“Wait. Baby, please wait.” Chris said, grabbing her wrist, and holding it gently, not wanting to hurt her, but make one last stitch effort to make her stay.

“I love you, isn’t it enough? I’m all yours. No part of me is ever not going to be yours. We just need to hang in there a little longer.” Silence filled the air, Y/n remaining silent for what felt like hours, until she finally spoke.

“You know I will always love you, too, Chris. But I can’t stay and end up hating you as a result. I wouldn’t be able to survive that. I’m sorry.” She said, looking at his gorgeous eyes, committing them to memory, before pulling away, and continuing her short walk to the door.

She had one foot out the door, when she felt a small tug on her pant leg. Looking down at a sad Dodger, whining, begging her to stay.

“Hey, Bubba. Don’t be sad. I will never not love you. And I need you to make sure, your Daddy remembers that too. Can you do that for me?” She said, kneeling down and petting him while smiling through her tears, as Dodger barked in reply, licking her face.

“Alright. That’s my good boy.” Y/n said, giving him a final pet before nudging him away from the doorway, and closing it behind her.

The silence wasn’t as comforting without her there. Even as Dodger assumed his duties, nudging against Chris, as he petted him. He felt numb, like a huge chunk of himself was removed and no way to fill the hole.

“It’s just you and me now, Bud... Just you and me.”

a/n: You guys still good? I hope it wasn't too bad. I may need to write something to balance out the angst, but that'll be a while... 😬

Special thanks to the best girls in the world for encouraging me, and getting me through my panic attacks to finish this. I couldn't have done it without you. Love y'all! 🥹❤️

And I'm also pretty sure that this'll be the only Chris Evans as himself fanfiction I'll ever write or post... We'll see.

But will this be my last Taylor Swift x CE/Character song fic? Definitely not 😉

Until the next one! Stay safe and sane, Everyone 🫶

❤ Booky

Main Masterlist

Chris Evans Characters Masterlist

Taylor Swift x CE/Characters Songfic Masterlist 😉

Taglist: @nescavaneck @jiyascepter @royalwriteroftheuniverse @femefetalelevelingup