#if someone told me anything close to this I would simply pass away

[juiceastronaut]

Ik the episode was full of "Fellas is it gay to--" moments with Kabru and Laois BUT THE FACT THAT Kabru was studying Laois close enough to tell that Laois pupils were dialated???????? Holy shit???? Fellas is it gay to be so locked into your hyperfocus of a man crush that you can immediately tell that his pupils are dialated and why all while intently listening to him ramble about his special interest?

[gutsby]

Cowboy Killers

Pairing: Cowboy!Joel x Reader

Summary: On a mission to find—and fight—your best friend’s lying, cheating boyfriend at the bar, you end up throwing your drink in the wrong face and landing in a sticky situation with Joel Miller, who never plays fair.

Warnings: 18+. Drunk-Assholes-to-Enemies-to-Lovers. Oral (m!receiving). Road head. Age gap. Daddy kink.

Note: My favorite sub-genre of country music is ‘I’m Gonna Fucking Kill My Husband,’ and I think Miranda Lambert’s ‘Gunpowder & Lead’ is a perfect representation of that.

Word count: 4.1k

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and forget.

Forgive and—

“I’m about to lay this motherfucker out,” you announced.

Across the line, your friend laughed.

“Yeah? You see him?”

Of course you saw him. Who else would be wearing a Carhartt flannel and jeans in ninety-four degree heat? Not a soul in this world but your friend’s own lying, piece of shit, hopefully-soon-to-be-ex boyfriend, you guessed.

The game that Old Fuckstick Miller had decided to play tonight was a dangerous one—he was dumb as shit, and you were drunker than a skunk. He was dating your best friend, and she was not present at the Tipsy Bison to see the barefaced clusterfuck taking place before you now.

She was home, over thirty minutes away. He had told her that morning he would be working late, and not to wait up. You were here, at the bar, approaching one A.M. with a Redbull Vodka clenched in either fist and a Texas-sized frown on your face, seeing the very same man with his hands all over a woman that wasn’t your friend. You’d wanted to puke as soon as you saw them. You knew you could never trust a man who claimed to be an Austin native and couldn’t name a single George Strait song.

Your friend had only been dating the guy for a month, and you’d just seen his face in pictures up until now, but from what you could see less than twenty feet in front of you—slightly blurred from all the drinks you’d had—this guy was him. A dick. There, cheating on your best friend.

And no man would get to do that and walk out unscathed if you had anything to say about it.

Your grip tightened on either one of your fizzy drinks and, barely managing to cradle the phone between your head and your shoulder, you gestured over to another friend.

“Dave. Take it,” you said, words slurring a little.

Dave York cocked an eyebrow but said nothing as you passed him one of your RBVs and shimmied off the barstool. By the time he was able to pose his question, your ass, your phone, and your one remaining drink were already wobbling the other way. Vaguely, you heard him:

“Where ya headed, hon?”

You turned and raised your drink, then seriously doubted he would be able to hear you over the blare of the music, but yelled back anyway, ‘I’M GONNA KILL SOMEONE!’

The age-old pro-forgiveness aphorism continued to thump in your brain as you made your way over and began to contemplate every feasible method of murder.

A gun in the face would’ve been too simple—and besides, you’d never owned or shot a firearm in your life.

Poison could be fun, but from the way you were approaching the man now, you seriously doubted he’d ever let you get within a mile of his drink. You nudged the phone closer to your ear and took a sip from your own.

“Closing in,” you told your friend simply.

She’d already given you the go-ahead to execute the confrontation and beat his ass any way you pleased after the fact. Now it wasn’t so much a matter of ‘if’ but ‘when’ you’d finally get to encroach on this little loved up scene at the other end of the bar. The man had had his back turned to you, and the stunning redhead hanging off his neck, likewise, had no idea what was coming. You smiled.

“Promise you won’t go to jail this time?” your friend said.

“Will you bail me out again if I do?” Your grin got bigger.

“Well, duh.”

“Good deal. I’ll be the shitfaced inmate with ‘Fuck Men’ tattooed on her forehead. Wait for Travis County to call.”

“I love you, psycho.”

“Love you more.”

You ended the call.

And you were fully ready to end this man’s life when you saw him lean in to kiss the woman’s neck—that was sick.

You weren’t thinking straight. You weren’t seeing straight

You yelled out, ‘He-e-e-ey, honey!’ without blinking.

The couple turned.

As soon as the man had done a full 180, you flung your drink in his face and made sure the cup struck his nose.

“You cheatin’ FUCK!”

He flinched, sprayed by your vodka-infused energy juice.

The music overhead was loud, but not so deafening as to prevent the bar from hearing your shriek. From the front of the room, a band was playing ‘Gunpowder & Lead,’ and you couldn’t help but feel the song had been fate.

“What the f—” the adulterer started, evidently stunned.

You knocked the Shiner Bock out of his hand and spat:

“Working late, are we?!”

And spilled another patron’s beer reeling back.

“Got a little caught up on the way home?”

Gesturing toward the green-eyed beauty to his left. At first, the girl fixed her stare on you as if you’d sprouted another head, but then, by turns, she was tilting it to him.

“You have a girlfriend?” she hissed.

Cheater McFuckstick was wiping his beard with his hand

Shaking his head.

“Hell no, I ain’t never—”

“LIAR!”

Channeling your inner Representative Wilson circa 2009, you let your mouth fall open and stared at the big, burly man like the Congressman had once done to President Obama all those years ago. The semi-stranger in front of you was far less composed than his political counterpart.

“What the fuck is your problem?!” he snapped.

You felt your cheeks heat up.

“Is she your girlfriend?” would-be mistress said, shrill.

“NO!” you and been-knew asshole yelled together.

You saw the man’s nostrils flare, and at the same time, the woman beside him departed. Quickly. A few people around you cleared the way, while others still stared, gawked, and murmured amongst themselves. The Miranda Lambert cover band continued on without a hitch, though you could tell there had been a stir in the crowd. They probably thought the worst of it was over.

They thought wrong.

“You’re a dick,” you seethed, unrelenting.

You almost expected the man to turn and leave.

You thought wrong.

“You’re a cunt.”

And the man chucked a stray whiskey sour in your face.

The $15 spirits splattered on your skin like the meanest insult of all. His aim was better. Though he didn’t let go of the cup, as you had with him, he did make sure to coat the whole of your twisted look with the liquor, and once it landed, he had had the nerve to do something else, too.

He brought the glass to his lips then drank what was left.

“How’s it feel?” he sneered.

You stood in wet, sticky silence for half a second; arguably, you’d earned that cocktail to the face.

On the other hand, who the fuck did he think he was?

You grabbed a random can of Keystone Light and flung it at his chest to give him a hint—and catch him off-guard.

“You’re a bitch, Tommy Miller!”

“Wh—”

“Maria’s my best friend, you absolute f—”

“What—”

“—and you cheated on her for what? All so she—”

“What did you just call me?!”

“A BITCH!”

“No, the NAME!”

“TOMMY MILLER!”

“I’M JOEL!”

Oh.

Oh.

You and Joel were shortly escorted out of the bar.

Joel’s name, and a trace of bourbon, were still fresh on your tongue when you found yourself stranded in the middle of the Tipsy Bison parking lot two minutes later. You leaned into a car beside you and held your stomach.

“Someone drop you on the head as a baby?” Joel barked.

Presently, for you, the world was tilting sideways, and your head was throbbing at a nauseating tempo.

“Go around slingin’ drinks at any old man you—”

Green. Green must’ve been the color of your face as you braced your hands on your knees and assumed a stance as if to scream at the ground. Rather than expecting any noise to ring out, though, you had only to squeeze your eyes shut and hold onto a hunch for something much less pleasant. And viscous.

Reeking mostly of Red Bull and regret, if you had to guess.

Joel took a big step back, and then he took another.

“Da-a-adgummit, girl, what the—”

He turned away just in time to miss the sight of you emptying your guts on the ground, but not quite fast enough to be spared the sounds of you retching. They were loud. Joel Miller was known to be a largely imperturbable force around these parts, but even he was made to feel queasy hearing that. Out of habit, he clapped his hand to his own gut and stumbled off. He stared at the bar, then at his car, then at the gravel crushed under his feet for what felt like the longest time. Then his gaze lingered to his lower half, and he thought:

‘Please, please don’t gimme no daughters. Please.’

He was forty-five. The time for making babies and raising daughters to be anything like a woman of your ilk was probably long past him. All the same, he kept his gaze on his crotch and sighed. Balls, you better not betray me.

When he heard the crunch of rocks, he turned around.

“HEY!”

Oh, no. No. Not tonight.

You were staggering to your car, keys in hand.

“Hey!” Joel called again, jogging after you.

It seemed the second shout had done him no more favors than the first. You were fumbling to get the key inside the door, and you looked as determined as ever.

Over your shoulder, you tossed back, careless:

“You ain’t the boss of me, Tommy Miller.”

You got the key to turn. You opened the door. You were just about to climb inside what looked to Joel to be the ugliest Dodge Ram pickup he’d seen in his life, when he grabbed your arm.

“It’s Joel,” he growled. Pinching your elbow tight as he tugged it back, “And you ain’t driving anywhere tonight.”

Somewhere in front of him, tilted away from his line of vision, you must’ve been grinning, because the next thing he heard from you was the scoff of a laugh.

“Oh yeah?”

Joel flipped you around to face him.

“Yeah,” he snapped.

Feeling a bit like a kid for mimicking your tone.

What were you, twenty-two? Twenty-three? You couldn’t have been a patron of a place like Tipsy Bison for very long, or else he would’ve recognized you tonight.

Then again, you struck him as the type to have had a fake ID since you were fifteen, so he really couldn’t know.

“I’m twenny-wuh-un,” you slurred up at him, exaggerated, once he’d made you step down from the running board and onto the ground. Answering his last unspoken question with the same, sleepy grin as before. Then lifting one of your hands to wag a finger in his face, “I can drink legal anywhere I want to in this country.”

“Not there,” Joel nodded to the interstate.

You looked to where he’d gestured and whistled. Standing and staring, like he had done to his crotch.

“Well fuck me-e!” you said next, dragging out the sound a childish amount, “You the law or somethin’, Mr. Joel?”

“Ain’t no cop.” Joel rolled his eyes.

You kept smiling. Then you turned on your heels.

And instead of trying to climb back into your truck, you sauntered off—in what direction, Joel couldn’t tell. You were more so bumbling about, turning in circles like the world’s most scantily-clad, semi-intoxicated ballerina. And then you stopped. You put your hands on your hips.

“‘Cause I’m the law,” you resumed in a slow, deliberate drawl. The twang you used was mostly feigned, “And you cain’t beat the law. Don’t nobody get away with that, not even a bunch’a Alabama smart alecks, believe you me.”

Joel didn’t know what the fuck you were talking about. The man was Texas born and bred, and you knew it.

He communicated as much by pinning you with a wide, bewildered stare, and something in that seemed to amuse. You stared back, making your eyes bug out too.

“It’s a quote from a movie,” you said, after a beat, “You’ve never seen Fried Green Tomatoes before?”

Joel couldn’t say that he had.

Joel reckoned there was a lot more than just movies he didn’t share in common with you. Miss Twenty-One. Barely a year past the age he’d been when he’d moved out of the house and tried to make a living on his own.

This woman, this girl he saw twirling out in front of him now probably couldn’t pour piss out of a boot with the instructions written on the heel if he’d asked you to. Joel shook his head and moved his feet, frown etching deep.

“Alright, princess. Up.”

You didn’t seem to understand, until he’d lifted you. Up.

You were thrown over his shoulder and carried to a truck much nicer than yours in less than fifteen seconds or so.

“Stinks in here,” you said as soon as he’d set you down.

Then, sniffing the air—and grinning:

“Aw, hell, Miller…you smoke?”

Joel wished he’d said no.

Wished he’d rolled his eyes and told you to pipe down, stop asking him questions. It would’ve made the drive a whole lot easier, and more peaceful. Nowhere near as painful, either, if he were being perfectly honest—the strain in his jeans had already gotten to be more than he could bear, and all you’d asked for was a pack of smokes.

“They call ‘em Cowboy Killers,” you said, matter-of-fact.

“I know what they’re called,” Joel grumbled in reply. Flicking the radio on and hoping to find a tune that would drown out the too-lovely, cloying voice you’d assumed as soon as you thought you might win a cigarette off of him. More chatty now than ever.

And for one, blissful moment, Toby Keith had you beat. The calm was fleeting. As soon as ‘Who’s Your Daddy’ started to drift through the car’s old speakers, you reached across and turned the knob to the left.

“Gross,” you muttered.

“What?”

“Got a light?”

“Blow me.”

Joel’s harsh, clipped tone was deliberate. The way he’d made himself mean—meaner than he’d been around a woman in a long, long time—was a choice. He couldn’t let your faux sweetness win him now. Not after you’d thrown two drinks in his face, mocked his truck, and foreclosed any possibility of getting laid by way of all your publicized infidelity philippics and shit-talking. Giving in to your charms from where you sat in the passenger seat now would only sink him further in his own esteem. Simply put, Joel’s ego couldn’t take it.

“Okie doke,” you said presently. Shrugging.

“Now keep your—HEY!”

Joel nearly swerved his truck off the road and into a ditch. Your deft little hands had slipped into his lap—and started palming his crotch through the denim.

He’d just managed to right the vehicle before jerking a look your way, staring at your hand, then your face:

“What the fuck was that?!”

“You said ‘blow me,’ Joel!” you huffed, and you seriously appeared as distraught as he was, “Sorry for listening!”

Joel grit his teeth with all the force of a cold steel trap.

“You’re fuckin’ nuts.” He gripped the wheel even tighter.

“I’m aware.”

“Where the hell do you live, anyway?”

You told him.

Your hand slipped down to the seat beside him.

And just as Joel let out what felt like the tiniest sigh of relief—he knew where that was, and the address sounded vaguely familiar—he yelped again. This time, he managed to keep control of his truck, but it was hard.

Your fingers had returned, and they were kneading the bulge under his jeans. Joel flushed from head to toe.

He didn’t have so much as half a mind to make you stop. He didn’t want to see you slink back over to your side of the car. But you were twenty-one, and he was forty-five. And you were both under the influence to some degree. And he was driving, for fuck’s sake. Shit like that only worked in dreams—not on a highway in a town like this.

He turned the radio dial to 75. At length, he heard it loud:

‘WHO’S YOUR DADDY? WHO’S YOUR BA-A-A-ABY?’

He saw you cringe.

“C’mon, Joel,” you groaned, “That’s…yuck.”

The fingers of the one hand kept digging, rubbing, but the other reached out and turned the music down again.

Joel shifted in his seat, feeling the pleasure start to bloom from the pit of his stomach, but not wanting to let you off that easy. Briefly, he looked from the road to you.

“What? You got a problem with Toby Keith?”

“I got a problem with anyone sayin’ ‘daddy’ like that.”

You unzipped his fly. Popped the button of his jeans from underneath the soft shelf of belly hanging over it, and held him, finally. You could only cup his erection through his boxers at that point, but the friction was enough to send a shiver through the whole of the old man’s body. He hadn’t been touched like that by a hand that wasn’t his own in…he couldn’t remember how long. He sighed.

“That why you’ve got your hand down the pants of a man old enough to be your father?” Joel quipped.

He couldn’t help it.

Your hand only gripped him tighter. From the passenger seat, you’d leaned over and started crawling. Scowling.

Your knees swiftly planted themselves on the old, upholstered cushion of the bucket seat, and you slipped a touch beneath the waistband of his underwear. With a hand that was smooth and soft and eager to please, you wrapped your fingers around that base and leaned in.

“You sound like you want me to say it,” you whispered.

Under your hand, he pulsed. His gaze stayed on the road.

“Don’t make no difference to me, sweet pea,” he said, and was amazed how even he was able to keep his tone:

“But those ‘Cowboy Killers’ you wanted…”

Your fingers curled tighter. Your head sank lower.

“…they don’t come cheap, y’know.”

Oh, you knew. He saw a smile snag at the corners of your lips as you brought them to his lap, and he had to force himself to look at the road again. It was empty and dark.

The tarmac stretched out for days. The fields rolling past warned sternly, ‘Don’t let her win,’ and something more in between each tree seemed to invite deliberation—remembrance, maybe. Joel was far too focused on the feel of your mouth to give the woods a second thought.

You’d worked the first inch between your lips in a slick, obscene sort of kiss; you made room for just the head and then toyed with a bead of precum leaking out of his slit. You licked it, squeezed the shaft in your hand, and hummed while the first real moan rumbled through him.

Joel turned to putty with just that flick of your tongue. He didn’t have to see your face to know he was losing.

On the wheel, his grip grew tighter, and he choked out:

“Ain’t your fuckin’ lollypop, kid.”

Then, dropping one hand to push down on your head—make you take him to the back of your throat in one go.

“Daddy wants you to suck him like a big girl, hear?”

At the base of his cock, he felt you gag. From the bottom of his heart, Joel knew there was no sound sweeter than that. He ran his fingers over your skull and tapped gently.

“If you want those smokes,” he told you—and really, with all the warmth and moisture of your mouth enveloping him now, he’d had to try to sound rougher than he was, “You’re gonna do what daddy says and suck him right.”

You gagged again, then squeezed his denim-clad leg with the hand that wasn’t wrapped around his member.

Joel yanked you by your hair and made you look up.

Your cheeks were already smeared with spit and tears. Much to his surprise, he found your eyes alight and soft.

Suffused with desire, too, from what he could see.

“Yes, daddy.” You grinned up at him.

Joel knew if he let your gaze stay on his a second longer now he’d either crash his car, blow his load, or fall in love—and he simply refused to let you succeed on any of those fronts, so he shoved your face back down.

You sucked him obediently. Greedily. Mouth growing more pliant and wet by the second, as if your jaw and salivary glands had contrived to get him as close to release as possible, as quickly as they were able.

Joel took a left onto a road he had only a dim recognition as being connected to yours, and he got that feeling again. You were bobbing your head, taking him further, flattening your tongue along the bottom of his member when his pleasure swelled inside him. At the same time, he felt a sense of dread. His hands were shaking on the wheel. He didn’t dare steal a look down to the sweet, soaked, perfect little mouth sucking him dry, because he knew that feeling would only strike twice as hard. He had to cum, or make you stop, or bring his truck to a halt.

As it was, he felt five tiny crescents sink into his thigh as you gripped him tighter, and a noise bubbled up in your mouth. Your breathing went shallow, and your lips stretched wide—you were trying, and succeeding, in deep-throating his thick, throbbing, much-too-old-for-a-girl-her-age member down close to your windpipe, and Joel could feel it. He hit his blinker, not thinking, and saw a sign that marked your street. Trepidation hit him again.

Fully, this time, in a feeling that was more like terror.

He didn’t have another second to question it, either. By the time he had the old, lone farmhouse in his sights and his heart nearly halfway up his throat with fear, your own throat pulsed, and opened the last two inches to him in. Your nose found their home in the rough, grey, wiry hairs at the base of his belly, having swallowed him whole, and Joel quickly sensed the start of what he knew too well.

He came down your throat in one, two, three, four, five long spurts, and didn’t let his foot off the gas even once.

He saw your house, approaching closer now, and paled.

No fucking way.

You’d wanted to skip the whole way up your drive.

Spit still drying on your cheeks, cum resting comfortably in your belly, and a smile as bright as the sun on your face as you waved to the F-150 pulling off toward the road, you’d never felt more alive—or smug—in your life.

“Is your dad…Lucien Flores?” Joel had asked no more than a second after his dick slipped out of your mouth.

“The one and only.”

Somehow, his face got even paler. His jaw visibly clenched, and his palm hit the top of the wheel. Hard.

It was then that you’d learned your father had hired Joel Miller on as a full-time ranch hand sometime last week.

He’d remembered the address, vaguely, but didn’t connect the dots until he’d pulled up in front of your house and damn near punctured your windpipe with his pulsing dick from how fast he’d jumped up—and cum.

His spend had almost shot through your nose with the force of it, but you didn’t mind. Once he’d revealed the wild, gory, and admittedly hilarious details of his newfound employment, you were too busy laughing your ass off to care if he’d torn your throat in two with his dick.

“So you really are a cowboy, then,” you’d said, giggling.

Joel had scowled. Rolled his eyes. Practically turned the color of a tomato when you leaned in and kissed him.

Now you were waving to him from your front door.

Joel’s truck was slow to go. The taste of him was fresh.

And there, weighing light in your back pocket while you said goodbye was a brand new pack of Marlboro Reds.

2:21 AM

You were safely in bed. You checked your phone.

Aside from fourteen missed calls, you saw:

1:09 AM – Maria

DUDE

1:09 AM

TOMMY JUST CAME HOME

1:09 AM

THAT’S NOT HIM AT THE BAR

1:13 AM

IT’S JUST JOEL!! HIS BROTHER!!!

1:13 AM

ABORT ABORT ABORT

1:42 AM

DAVE SAID YOU BEAT JOEL UP???? CALL ME

1:54 AM – Dave York

Ur gonna fuck that old dude aren’t u

[writing-flower]

“ Between life and death, death is tempting ”

First act: “From the roots”

Prologue: “Happy fifteenth birthday! (Again?)”

WARNING: Mention of blood and death.

My memory had never been the best, it was good, but not exceptional. Nothing out of this world.

I wasn't as smart as Damian or Tim, I wasn't as strong as Jason or Dick, nor was I as sharp as Bruce Wayne.

I wasn't exceptional, but I was good, but not good enough for them. For him.

God, I was so focused on getting his attention, playing sports, try to pass every subject with the highest grade, join any club like debate or math.

Anything, but all that never leads to anything.

Well, almost nothing, everything I did only caused Damian to see me as a desperate for attention, which, he wasn't wrong.

But still, it didn't make it hurt any less, every insult, malicious insinuation even the occasional threat flying through the air, each one was the result of three years of trying to get someone to look at me.

Sometimes that attention only appeared with Dick, on the few times that he came to visit and came across a scene of me with Damian, He immediately stopped him.

Forcing him to apologize, spoiler, he never apologized.

The first time it happened I thought that my attempts had finally yielded good results, but no, I dare say this was worse.

As if he gave me hope and then suddenly he snatches it away without any fanfare.

Oh wait, that's literally what happened.

And about the others, I didn't even have the chance to talk to them, simply because I was already tired and also because if Damian continued he would have more reasons to screw me.

And let's face it, nobody wants to feed the wolf because you know it bites.

In this case, the bird.

It didn't help that almost the entire family was going on patrol, I'd be lying if I said I wasn't interested in being part of that, but then I remember Jason...I immediately got that idea out of my mind.

Mm, but if I stop to think, or rather, remember, another thing that I learned in my attempts to get my family's attention, I fell in love with dance.

It was the only class that I didn't drop like the others, I genuinely loved it.

Once in her class, the teacher made us all dance with large, long, and thin fabrics. She made us dance what we wanted, in her words: “Dance as if you were free”.

My companions danced with joy, I just stayed silent for a few moments watching them without knowing how to start.

But then I sighed to close my eyes, letting my body move as it wanted.

“Dance as if you were free” I thought, I started to imagine the music in my head. It was nice, I love it.

I went from knowing what the hell to do to starting to laugh with my classmates, I turned around and then curtsied, feeling how almost all the fabric covered my body.

I open my eyes and see my entire audience applauding, not just me, but also the rest of the dancers.

As soon as I turned eighteen I followed my teacher's advice. I didn't do it before because I was a minor, I needed my tutor's permission and blah blah blah...

Contact with my family at this point was zero, except for the new member, Duke, a sweet and kind boy.

Just looking at him made prayers come to mind for Bruce.

“If you let this kid end up like Jason, I’ll take care of throwing the Joker at you myself, you unhappy idiot.” I was thinking but also listening as Duke energetically told me what his first patrol had been like.

I used to have a certain respect for Bruce, I mean, he's Batman and he does everything in his power to make sure Gotham isn't in such a shitty place.

But then I remember that he keeps adopting children as if they were dogs to give them "A better life" by turning them into human weapons.

Sooooo, yeah, I wish that every day he wakes up with a backache and a headache.

"[Name]"

"Yes dear?" Through the mirror I watched Duke looking at me hopefully as I put on my makeup for the upcoming performance in an hour.

Oh no, I already know what he's going to ask.

"Why do you never come to the mansion?" God, I swear he does that look on purpose, brat.

I sigh as I turn around to look at him.

"You already know my answer, I have no reason to do it and I don't want to either." I said as I turned back to the mirror to continue.

"Yes! I know, but why exactly don't you want to?"

A silence reigned in the room, putting on my makeup but at the same time thinking about what to answer him.

As much as I resent the Waynes, they didn't do anything to Duke, until now, they treat him as he deserves and the last thing I want is to plant that seed of hatred towards them in Duke.

Because I know him, as soon as I tell him what my childhood was like in that mansion and those responsible, the first thing he will do is complain.

And at this point in my life I don't want any unnecessary drama with them.

I lowered the lipstick and looked at him.

"I never liked being in that mansion, since I was little I was always afraid of those giant, dark hallways, and I still am."

Duke stared at me in bewilderment. "Is that the only reason you don't want to come to the mansion?"

I nodded. "It sounds stupid, I know, but every time I walk down those halls it brings back bad memories."

That wasn't a lie.

Duke was silent for a few moments before coming up to me and hugging me.

"Aww, honey you are such a sweetheart sometimes."

"Sometimes?"

"Yeah, because you can be a brat sometimes too." I laughed as I ruffled Duke's hair until it was disheveled.

"A white lie won't hurt anyone." I thought while Duke laughed and tried to pull my hand out of his hair.

Without realizing it, it was already time to start. I said goodbye to Duke, telling him to go back to the mansion, but he insisted on staying.

Something I allowed, GOD, I should have begged him not to do it.

Because from one moment to the next while I was dancing, all the lights went out and when they came back on I felt like blood was flooding my mouth, like everyone was screaming in fear.

What happened? Why am I bleeding?

Duke, he was next to me trying to keep me awake, to not close my eyes.

It got to the point where I couldn't hear anything he was saying, it was complicated while I felt like a part of my body was bleeding non-stop.

I hate to see him cry, please look away... leave me here.

Please...

I don't want the last thing I see to be you crying...

Please...

She opened her eyes calmly and confusedly, all she could hear was the ringing in her ears. She thought she was in a hospital because of the light.

But when her vision stopped blurring, she realized that the light was not from a hospital spotlight, but from the skylight in the wooden ceiling.

"Wait...Skylight?" She muttered, feeling her voice raspy and her throat sore.

The bed wasn't that soft, it was really hard and uncomfortable but still [Name] didn't want to get up, after almost dying...

[Name] sat up in bed right away.

"I ALMOST DIE!" She literally jumped out of bed and ran to the closet to get her clothes.

She needed to see how Duke was doing, his desperate face and the way he held back the urge to cry and couldn't, broke her heart.

But it was when she pulled out a t-shirt that she realized.

"This isn't my size..." Confused, [Name] walked over to the mirror.

If Duke broke her heart, now she's literally having a heart attack.

"WHAT THE FUCK!?" [Name] could swear that any living thing that was near her would have run away in less time than it takes a rooster to crow.

She touched her face carefully, as if it would disappear or break if she touched it hard, this is so weird...a woman in her late twenties trapped in her fifteen year old self, god, what a hell.

[Name] She stepped back without taking her eyes off the mirror while she sat back down on her bed.

On the other side of the door, she heard someone knocking on it two or three times. Accompanied by a soft but direct voice calling her name.

"Miss [Name]"

[Name] immediately turned around to stare at the door, for a few short moments no one said anything, there was only silence.

"Are you okay? You didn't come down to breakfast. That's not something usual for you." Alfred said once he got no response from her.

"Yeah, I'm fine Alfred...I just stayed up late last night that's all..." She didn't know what to say, obviously it wasn't okay, but she didn't want any more problems in her head, she just wanted to focus on the main problem.

She literally just got younger, which would be a good thing if it weren't for the fact that she also came back to this damn mansion.

"Okay, miss, I'll be waiting for you with your breakfast, you need to eat something before you start the day." [Name] was about to reply until Alfred stepped in. "Also, Happy Birthday Miss."

She didn't say anything, she didn't want to.

Alfred walked away from the door, [Name] could hear his footsteps moving away through the hallways and down the stairs.

"Was it always this quiet?" She muttered in her mind as she turned her gaze back to the mirror.

She thought about her life before coming back here, it wasn't good, she didn't earn much from dancing, but... it was her life, a life that took her time to perfect.

And now, I go back to the beginning? Shit, no.

"Alive or dead, I don't care, either way I'm getting out of here..." She said with some frustration and tiredness. "Happy birthday to me...that's new."

With nothing left to lose, she gets back out of bed to find some clothes to change into.

It was her birthday and she had to look good.

And hopefully, it would be the last birthday she would spend in this mansion.

NOTES: Hi, I hope everything is okay, even if it's better than me, I had finished the 'prologue' a while ago but I was feeling a bit unsure that something felt out of place or "weird".

I repeat and reiterate, I can understand English but in terms of speaking/writing it I am still learning. Until I feel completely confident for now I will continue using the translator (my savior).

But if there are any errors (probably some, I hope not many) let me know, I want everyone to be able to read comfortably and as long as I can I will make it happen.

Anyway, I hope you like it, I love you! Muak muak💋💋

TAGS:

@crazycaoticsimp @closetreader1864

[oswildin]

Loki x Bestfriend!You Headcannons (He’s In Love With You)

A/N: Avenger!Loki AU, Avenger!You

You’re the first person he has ever felt he could just be himself around. There were no titles, no expectations, just Loki. It was freeing.

Loki always searches for you first whenever he hears the latest bit of gossip around the compound (yes, he most definitely is a gossiper, he just loves the drama, and if he can stir the pot, oh he will).

Quiet evenings with you. You force him to watch films with you, and he always grumbles and will consistently commentate through the whole thing, but secretly, he loves it. He loves being able to spend time with just you, away from everyone else.

He thinks he masks his feelings well, he’s known for deception after all, but no… It’s clear to everyone that the man is totally head over heels and would do anything (and I mean anything) for you. They have bets on how long it takes for him to finally tell you.

He didn’t realise what he felt at first, having never really felt romantic love before. Sure, he’d had fancies, but never anything… real.

It took him a long time to realise that yes, it was in fact ‘love’ he felt for you. The moment he realised was when you were both taking a stroll around the compound grounds, the sun was shining, the birds were singing, everything felt perfect. And then you turned to look at him, the sun sitting perfectly behind you, casting you in an almost ethereal glow.

It was then he felt his heart skip a beat, a flutter in his belly, his eyes widening a fraction at the sight of you. He felt sick and excited at the same time. Nervous yet comfortable. Scared yet peaceful. How was that even possible? Even for a God of his own contradictory nature, that all felt so contrasting.

“Loki? You good?” You’d raised a brow, giving him a strange look as he hadn’t said anything in a good ten seconds - which was rare for him.

“Hm?” Loki had blinked, clearing his throat. “I- uh, yeah, yes. Fine.” He had awkwardly told you, nodding, trying to regain composure.

How utterly cliche. Like a scene from one of those awful romantic films you made him suffer through.

Oh, how his gaze softens whenever you’re in the room. Almost like a lovesick puppy. If his past self could see him now, he would’ve called him ‘pathetic’ and tell him to ‘get a grip’.

But current Loki, he didn’t care. The way you made him feel was unlike anything he’d ever felt before.

Of course he had to fall for his best friend. It couldn’t have just been simple. Easy. But then again, of course he had to fall for his best friend… To even be considered his best friend, well, that was no easy feat.

He takes any reason to be ridiculously close to you. Cooking? You bet he’s standing right beside you at the stove, moving every time you move to grab a spice. Watching a film? Yeah, there’s plenty of space on the sofa, but on the other side of it he can’t make sure his arm is touching yours. Handing him something? Oh, he is practically grabbing your whole hand just to feel the tingle go up his arm.

There was one time he had overheard Natasha mentioning she was planning to set up a blind date for you. He had never interjected himself into a conversation so fast before.

“A blind date? How… tedious. Besides, doesn’t it seem counterintuitive? Going to meet someone you have never seen before? Don’t even know the name of? They could be a- a psychopath or a murderer, or worse yet utterly hideous and dull.”

Yeah, he handled that with his usual tactile diplomacy. (Sarcasm)

“That’s not how blind dates work, Loki.” Natasha told him with a smirk. “I know the candidate.”

“Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” Sarcasm, obviously.

Loki was extremely relieved when he found out you had turned down her offer.

“Babe, could you pass me the salt?” You’d once said.

Natasha AND Loki both reached for the salt.

You looked at Loki strangely. Natasha simply smirked. Loki looked extremely embarrassed. He didn’t even like the thought of being called ‘babe’. Well… At least not until you’d said it. Even if it wasn’t to him.

“I thought you said ‘hey’-“ Loki had tried to cover.

You got hurt on a mission? Even just a scratch? Oh, Loki is worrrrieeeddddd.

“Let me see.” He’d insist. “Loki, I’m fine-“ You’d try. “Yes, maybe so, but I’d like to be sure, you mortals are extremely fragile-“ He’d say with his usual dry humour.

He’d dress your wound, even if the med staff had done, he would always find something to critique, something that he could do better. All because he wanted to be the one to make sure you were okay, safe, looked after.

The sun is in your eyes? How dare it, utterly unacceptable, he would not have it. He would destroy it for such an offence. (Not really, but you get the idea).

“Loki, no-“ Tony had said. “Loki, yes-“ Loki had said. “Loki, no.” You had said. “Loki, no.” Loki had said. (Again, you get the idea).

He just found you… utterly comforting. Safe. You accepted him for him. Not the masks, just him. And he finally felt like he belonged. And he would be damned if he ever lost that. Whether he ever revealed how he felt or not…

Spoiler: He does, by accident. Slip of the tongue. What a tragedy for a God known for his silver-tongue, but it seemed even he had his slip-ups, his moments of humanness.

Another spoiler: Of course, you loved him too.

[gor3-hound]

PLAY DATE — L AND LIGHT

a/n: first death note fic !! been a fan of this series forever, so happy to get to write for it :3 commission for @nexysworld... love u bad fr <3 rbs and comments always appreciated :))) 3.7k words

cw: 18+ content. p in v, double penetration, very mild dub-con, objectification/dollification, toxic relationship, creampie, edging(?), fingering, slightly ooc (moreso light than L)

You're obedient to a fault.

That's a good thing in Light's eyes. He doesn't have time to ponder your feelings. He doesn't particularly care enough to do so. You're pliable. You make it so much easier for him. There isn't an issue of you questioning him, or acting out if he doesn't give you attention. He'd had enough of that with Misa — she had been nothing but a means to an end.

But you?

Light feels as though his every action finds a justification when your eyes meet his. You're so innocent, so sweet. He feels as though if he squeezes tight enough, you'll shatter within his grasp. Sometimes, he feels the overwhelming urge to press down; to make you quiver at his touch. He wonders if, like the porcelain dolls his sister used to collect, his rough handling of you would crack the surface of your smooth, unmarred skin. 

The world is wrong. Light knows this as much as he knows he needs air — you are something to be protected from the unworthy that would like nothing more than to corrupt you. You're weak. He doesn't mean it as an insult, just an unequivocal truth. You need someone to protect you, and he trusted no one else with the task.

He sighs as he checks his Rolex — a simple, silver piece handed down from his father. It wasn’t anything particularly grand; the surface was scratched from years of use, but it was a luxury he'd grown to be rather fond of. The seconds tick down almost painfully slowly as he stares, focusing entirely on the longer hand as he watches it tick by with each passing minute.

Light was uncharacteristically nervous about today. He had no qualms about L finding out he was Kira; he knew he was smarter than the detective. Better than him. He'd find out his name soon enough, he was sure of it. But it wasn't his identity that had his heart racing with each tick of his watch.

L's… suspicions of him had led to a rather unfortunate situation — he wanted to observe you. Light is careful not to give anything away; each word that falls from his mouth is carefully crafted to elicit the reaction he desires. L has come to notice you’re less tactical in your speech, more sincere. You had an innocent demeanour, one that had admittedly attracted L’s curiosity.

L is sure that if you were aware of Light’s true nature, he would be able to draw a confession out of you easily.

“You’re late,” Light says simply as he opens the door for you, a crease forming between his brows as he regards you. His eyes slide up and down your body, taking in your outfit with a critical eye. “This isn’t what we agreed upon. Did you not like the outfit I bought for you?” 

His jaw tenses briefly, a small huff of hair escaping his nose. He shakes his head, briefly glancing at his watch once more before he allows his arm to fall against his side. “It doesn’t matter. You remember what I told you? Don’t speak unless spoken to — Ryuzaki already has his suspicions; I don’t need you making things more difficult for me. Do you understand?”

You nod softly, glancing up at his face through your lashes. Light finds himself having to suppress a shiver at the action, throat bobbing as he swallows thickly, quickly schooling his expression into something more guarded.

“Good. You’ve been so good for me lately. Don’t disappoint me today.” He murmurs, taking your hand to drag you along with him.

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

A day passes, and L has already almost entirely forgotten about his initial objective. Sharing a room with you and Light had been a convenience at first — he wanted to be sure he could keep a close eye on the both of you at all times. This was a mistake, and one that he was quickly realising. 

L has never been one for much socialisation, speaking to others only when it is entirely necessary, yet he is immediately able to decipher that you are different. You shrink back at the smallest amount of questioning, eyes wide and doe-like whenever you feel as though you might have said the wrong thing. L is not a stupid man, nor is he impulsive or particularly driven by personal desires.

He was observant to a fault, and his fault appears to come in a pretty package wrapped in silk and lace with Light attached to her arm. Light’s infatuation with you irritates him to no end, even if he understands it. He wants to attach himself to your arm, but Light presents an issue. He’s willing to indulge in the game to a childish degree. One thing L hates more than anything is losing.

That same thought runs through his head as Light finally leaves the room, giving him a brief moment alone with you. “Forgive me,” he begins, regarding you with a small tilt of his head as he gains your attention. “Light seems to dislike you speaking to me. Is there a reason for this?”  

You tense slightly at the question, if only because you know Light would not be happy to find out you were speaking to L without him there to monitor you. “He’s like that, sometimes. He doesn’t let me speak with other guys much.”

The words are a half-truth, but they held honesty, nonetheless. Light was particularly cautious when it came to you being in L’s presence, but he’s always been the more possessive type. 

“I see,” he replies, resting his chin between the space where his two knees connect, his arms wrapped around his calves as he hugs his legs to his chest. He scrutinizes you with an almost childlike curiosity, but there’s a glimmer of something else in his eyes. Something infinitely more dangerous.

“I cannot say I blame him,” he continues after a short moment, humming thoughtfully. “You’re certainly… fragile. With the current state of things, I would have kept a close eye on you, too.”

“I’m capable of looking after myself.” You reply, brows furrowing slightly at his words. His lips pull down slightly at that, his gaze examining you once again. “I did not mean any harm by my words, but I simply must disagree. If Light is shown to be innocent, you are far from safe. You gave up your name easily upon our first meeting, having no certainty that I wasn’t Kira. In the few times you’ve visited, you made no attempt to conceal your ID. It has been caught on security numerous times.”

He pauses, extending his index finger to your identification, slid behind a clear case on the back of your phone, clearly visible to anyone who may pass by. “You are rather clumsy. If anyone in the task force was Kira, you could have died ten times over by now.”

“I didn’t realise.” You admit quietly, reaching out to flip your phone over despite knowing it made no difference. You can feel your cheeks heating in embarrassment.

“You see the best in people. It is an endearing trait, but an entirely stupid one. Perhaps it would be safer for you to stay here. I would hate for your connections to Light and myself to put you in danger.” He doesn’t mention his suspicions of a second Kira, deciding that you would be much more cooperative if he made it appear that his concern of you being close to Light was due to the possibility of his innocence — a theory that he was finding more evidence against with each passing day.

“My instincts rarely lead me astray.” He adds after you remain silent, feet dropping to the floor so he can lean forward, reaching out with a single finger to direct you to meet his gaze. “You should consider what I said. It would be beneficial to have Light close, and I would feel more at peace if you remained, as well.”

Footsteps are heard approaching the door, and L is quick to lean back, turning his attention to the tray of sweets at his side. He hums in thought as he scans through them, paying no mind to Light as he re enters the room. L might be good at showing nothing in his expression, removing a slice of cake from the display as Light’s gaze flicks across the room, but you’ve always been awful at hiding things. He frowns as he takes in your expression, noting instantly the nervous manner in which you chew on your lower lip, unable to meet his gaze. He joins you on the sofa, placing a protective arm around your shoulders to draw you towards him.

“I shouldn’t have to ask, but you behaved while I was gone, right?” He whispers into your ear, words laced with a hint of warning. At your small nod, he scoffs. “You seem nervous. You can’t even handle a single moment without me guiding you, can you?”

Light cannot find it within himself to be surprised at the guilty expression that crosses your face at his words. You look more like a scolded puppy than girl in that moment, a look that he’s very accustomed to. 

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he huffs, expression turning into one of annoyance. You might not be open about it, but he’s convinced something happened when you were gone. “You’ve always been more face than brains, hmm? A girl like you is pleasant to look at, but there’s clearly not much thinking happening up here, is there?”

He taps your head, and you make a small noise of protest, attempting to press further against his side to placate him. The interaction has clearly gained L’s attention, but neither you nor Light notice in the moment. “I’m sorry, we were only talking.”

Light gives a brief glance in L’s direction then, knowing he should be careful about what he says next. He’d have to play more into the jealous boyfriend role — though that would hardly be difficult with the irritation steadily rising within him. “Is that so? Just talking? Thought I told you that pretty little head should only be worrying about me?”

His words are a warning, a way of interpreting if you let too much slip. You can hear it in his tone as much as you can see it in his gaze, but before you can speak, L cuts you off.

“I was only informing her she should be more careful, seeing as you failed to address how stupid it is that she so openly displays her name in her phone case.” The words appear calm, but there’s a hint of enjoyment in L’s tone. He enjoys being able to get one over on Light, no matter how small of a win it is. Light’s expression darkens, his jaw clenching as he turns his gaze to L. “Right. So you think it’s acceptable to tell my girl how she should be acting? I can look after her myself.”

“Perhaps you’re getting sloppy,” L bites back easily, an amused smile tugging at one corner of his lips. “Your girlfriend could easily be dead by now. It could be luck, I’m sure. The more likely scenario is you didn’t care about her ID because you knew no harm would come to her. How peculiar, wouldn’t you agree?”

“Are you insinuating I’m Kira because I overlooked a simple thing? I don’t keep tabs on her every action.”

L steps in before Light has a chance to continue. “It certainly appears like you do, and I have not known you to make such easily avoidable mistakes in the time we have worked the case together. “

“Guys—” Any attempt you make to diffuse the situation is easily cut off by both men. L shushes you gently at the same time Light snaps, “Quiet!”. You shrink back instantly, expression nervous as Light’s hold on you tightens.

“I don’t like how closely you seem to be examining my relationship, Ryuzaki. Are you sure this is really about uncovering Kira? It seems more like jealousy on my end.” Light hums, a lazy grin growing on his face as he notices L’s expression shifting slightly. “Ah. I’m not wrong, am I? You like her.”

Light grins, peeling you gently away from his side. You’re confused as he guides you by your hips to stand, but you allow him to manoeuvre you without complaint. He pushes you towards L, leaning back in his seat. “Go on then. You seem convinced you can do a better job than me.”

“Light?” You say with wide eyes, stumbling slightly as he pushes you towards L. The other man looks equally surprised, though he doesn’t seem to have any issues with your sudden closeness.

“Shh, baby. You’re not cut out to be thinking all by yourself. Ryuzaki wants to show me how I should be treating you.” He coos, that soft tone he tends to reserve only for you succeeding in turning you pliant almost instantly. You nod softly, taking a few nervous steps in L’s direction. The man makes a soft noise in the back of his throat, tired eyes trailing along your figure. This is what he had wanted — another means of rising above Light, another win for under his belt. But it’s an entirely different thing to be faced with you, your eyes wide and trusting as you stop barely inches away from him.

L reaches out to touch you, and you melt. His hands grasp your hips curiously, pulling you slightly closer, almost experimentally. You let it happen, legs parting without hesitation as he drags your thighs apart with a strong grip. There’s no hint of displeasure on your face, barely even a reaction save for the soft huff of breath that spills past your lips.

“She’s good, isn’t she?” Light hums from his spot on the couch, eyes locked onto the scene in front of him. “She’ll do whatever you tell her to, you know. She takes to training exceptionally well.”

You’re sickeningly sweet, L decides as his hands slide up so they can fiddle with the hem of your pretty lace dress. It’s no wonder he finds himself increasingly infatuated with you. He has always been a fan of sweet things. Deft fingers slide under your dress and drag along your thighs, the coldness of his touch drawing goosebumps to the surface of your skin.

“I am curious.” L admits softly, his eyes leaving your body to glance directly at Light, addressing the other man as if you aren’t even there. “She seems… sensitive. Is there anything she particularly enjoys?”

Light stands then, approaching you from behind. His eyes darken as he watches the shape of L’s hand tracing your skin under your dress, an undeniable heat building in his stomach. “She’s just happy to get the attention. Isn’t that right, doll?”

Before you can respond, Light’s fingers tangle in your hair, forcing you to nod. “See? She just wants someone to look after her.”

Light’s hands join L’s, his fingers grasping the hem of your dress so he can slowly pull it upwards, exposing inch after inch of soft skin. His fingers dip under the waistband of your panties, teasingly dragging the fabric down until they drop to the floor, pooling at your ankles. “She’s prettiest here. Go on, baby, step out of them.”

You step out of them one foot at a time, eyes hazily gazing over your shoulder to meet your boyfriend’s. A cocky grin spreads across his face, his eyes flicking across your face. The smirk only widens as you let out a soft mewl when L directs his attention on your dripping cunt, parting your folds with nimble fingers.

“You’re soft,” L hums to himself, the words appearing more like an observation than a compliment. He thumbs gently over your clit, eyes shifting to take in your reaction to the touch. At the sound of your shaky sigh and the sight of your brows furrowing with pleasure, he repeats the action.

“Don’t you feel pretty like this, baby?” Light purrs, pressing himself against you from behind. The hard line of his arousal is obvious against the curve of your ass, his fingers digging into your hips as he ruts against you with a shaky sigh. “Showing off how perfect you are for me. Ryuzaki is lucky I’m letting him play with my favourite doll, isn’t he, baby?”

“Yeah…” You breathe, head tilting back against Light as L presses the tips of two fingers against your entrance, brushing against you a few times before slowly sinking them into your tight heat. 

“Shh… Just nod, baby. You’re normally better than this. I’m disappointed. Dolls aren’t supposed to speak, are they?” Light chastises lightly, his fingers digging into your soft flesh enough that it borders on painful. You bite your lip, suppressing a soft whimper as you shake your head.

“Good. Good, that’s better. I don’t want you showing me up. You’re usually so much fun to play with.”

“She’s tight.” L murmurs to himself, eyes flicking to Light’s face over your shoulder briefly before his attention returns to your cunt. He prods and pokes at you almost clinically, exploring you before withdrawing his fingers. 

“Imagine how tight she’d be taking both of us.” L groans softly at Light’s words, unable to suppress the soft noise. He was enjoying this far more than he thought he would, the rough fabric of his jeans already tenting obscenely. Light grasps your wrists, gently bringing your hands to the front of L’s jeans. “Help him take them off.”

His tone is soft, laced with that sweetness he always uses when you’re like this. The command registers a few moments later in your mind, your hands working quickly to unzip L’s jeans. You slide them down, swallowing thickly at the sound of fabric rustling behind you.

“I’m feeling… Generous.” Light hums after a moment, gently nudging you forward to straddle L’s lap. “I’ll let you have the first taste, get her ready for us both.”

“How kind.” L responds dryly, but he doesn’t hesitate in fisting his cock a few times to coax it into full hardness. He notches the head of his cock against your entrance with a barely concealed shudder, slowly pressing into you. Light waits until that cute little crease between your brows fades into pleasure before he lifts your hips slightly, allowing him to settle between L’s spread legs and line himself up. He wouldn’t want to break his favourite toy by pushing her too fast, after all.

“Relax.” Light whispers, palm rubbing up and down your back before pressing down on your tailbone, forcing you into more of an arch. He slots into you easily, his head tipping back as a quiet groan builds in his throat. He’s almost tempted to make Ryuzaki a more permanent fixture during your ‘play time’ with how deliciously the other man’s cock rubs against his own. Light’s head drops to the crook of your neck, his breaths coming out in hot pants against your skin as he rocks into you, setting a steady pace alongside L. 

You’re so full it makes you ache, and you find yourself unable to hold in the moans bubbling in your chest as both men rock their hips in tandem, their lengths rubbing against you in a way that has you seeing stars. Light clicks his tongue softly, his fingers sliding up from your hips to your throat, briefly squeezing before they continue their path to your mouth, slipping past your plump lips to press down against your tongue.

“You’re certainly vocal for a toy.” Light admonishes, punctuating his words with a particularly harsh thrust. By the time you notice the small furrow of L’s brows, the man has already decided Light’s actions are a challenge. You don’t have the time to steady yourself before he fucks into you more aggressively, ensuring each one of his thrusts has you whining around your boyfriend’s fingers. He’s determined to make you act against Light’s expectations, to have you making as many pretty noises for him as he can.

“I think she sounds sweet,” L huffs, looking up at you with a heavy-lidded gaze. His hips drag in circular motions as he tries to find your sweet spot, insistent on being the one who makes you cum. A small, proud smile tugs at his lips as you let out a particularly obscene moan, his entire focus honing in on hitting that spot with each thrust. Your moans grow increasingly louder and more garbled as Light presses his fingers further into your mouth, spit pooling past your lips and drooling down your chin as you’re filled repeatedly by both men. 

Your thighs tremble and clench desperately, your walls tightening around both lengths as your peak rapidly approaches. You’re shaking by the time your release rolls over you in waves, slick arousal gushing from you and completely soaking them both. L’s expression is undoubtedly smug as he glances at Light over your shoulder, clearly taking credit for making you feel good.

You can hear an irritated huff from behind you, Light’s thrusts growing sloppy as his own release creeps up on him. From the lazy circles L is drawing with his hips, you can tell he isn’t far behind. Light’s fingers slip past the seal of your lips with an ‘pop’, the wet digits trailing down your cheek before settling on your shoulder. He tightens his grip, using the leverage to hold you still as he ruts into your cunt desperately. He cums first, his cock pulsating as he fills your greedy cunt with his seed. 

Light rides out his orgasm with a few languid strokes, watching L’s face closely. As soon as he sees the first signs of the man’s orgasm approaching, he taps your hips twice. You register the command in an almost dazed manner, standing up on shaky legs.

L whines, his dick kicking helplessly against his stomach as he looks between the two of you. Light only grins, holding your waist in a possessive hold. 

“What? I was hardly going to let you finish inside my girl.” Light coos, voice laced with an inflated sense of pride. “Maybe next time.”

L’s expression twists to one of thinly veiled annoyance, realising it was the plan all along. Fine. He can accept his losses.

Next time, he’ll win.

[yan-randomfandom]

HIIIIIIII I love your writing alot!!!! Soo, I wanna request something:3

Maybe a Yandere Stanford Pines x GN reader who only saw him as a close friend? They became friends when they were still in high-school up to this day! (Yes, reader did sort of wait 30 years for Ford and never forgot about him)

Maybe just Stanford obsessing over Reader romantically, and Reader just think him as the greatest best-friend ever!!

I LOVE ONE SIDED PINNING OKAY????

Stanford Pines x GN!Reader

UM UH,,, IM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG ANON— and it's something I'm not even proud of 😭😭

context btw; reader doesn't know about weirdmaggedon or fake death or entire lore, they dont tell them anything uhhh idk anymore

You took the bus to Gravity Falls! Stanley reached out to you after decades of not having contact. It was a bit sudden, but there's no way you're going to ignore his call.

Stanley Pines was the first man you saw when the Mystery Shack's door opened. Wrinkly, exhausted widened eyes looked at you in silence. He looked unprepared... kind of crusty musty... and very unhygienic.

"You look disgusting! I'm gonna hug you anyway!" you beamed, pulling him in for a big hug. Unwillingly, a strong whiff of his scent hits your nose. "You stink too! You haven't changed a bit, Stanley."

"Glad to know ya missed me," he laughed, giving you an affectionate noogie.

When Stan finally let you go, you looked up to see Ford. He stood in front of you, speechless as he stared into your eyes.

"...Ford," you grinned, walking towards him. In curiosity, you placed your palms on both his cheeks. He seemed to relax with your touch. "You changed a lot."

Your eyes, while they've wrinkled, are as warm as the day he last saw them. He smiled back, his large hand covering one of yours. Your smile widened when you saw his fingers. "And you aged beautifully."

Poetic as always! A laugh bubbled up your throat as you wrapped your arms around him.

He quickly returned the gesture, burying his face into your neck. He missed this. He missed you.

Your warmth didn't change. Fascinating.

"I missed you, man! How come you're such a silver fox now? Good for you!"

"I still have no idea what a silver fox is," he chuckled, already longing for you the second you pulled away from him.

Ford merely stood there for a few moments before he grimaced. Damn it. He still likes you, doesn't he?

It's been more than thirty years already. He thought he would have moved on, especially after the whole weirdmaggedon thing. Why would Stanley ever get the idea of calling you back here??

All of you now sat at the table with you in between the Pines twins. Mabel wore an apron, sophisticatedly offering you tea. The sweetheart made the recipe herself!

"So, how have you been doing these days?" Ford asked, resting his cheek on his palm. Every passing second with you, he gets reminded more and more of why he used to like you.

You are, after all, the first and only person to not call him any sort of names because of his hands.

"Oh, I mean, I've been financially doing well, and it's been a bit difficult to settle down with a partner... but," you blushed. "I think I finally found the one."

Ford coughed out violently, pounding a fist against his chest. He really shouldn't be surprised. He really shouldn't! You're bound to have found someone!

Get a grip. Fourty. Years.

...He truly had missed out on this dimension for such a long time.

...

The sky is dark. Dipper told you about the roof spot at the shack, and now you're here, thinking about life.

"Dipper said you'd be here," a voice murmured. You looked up and saw Ford walking up to you. Chuckling, you offered him a non-alcoholic drink.

"How many days will you be staying here again?" Ford asked as he sat next to you, sparing a small space between.

"A week at most," you shrugged, kicking your legs at the edge. Ford simply stared at you.

"I guess it'll be forever before we see you again, huh?" he mumbled.

You turned to him with a smile. "Of course not. You guys are invited to my wedding."

... Wedding.

A small huff left your lips. "We're so old now. I still remember being in high school and grouping up with you and Stan when a trio was needed. Good times."

Ford continued staring at you.

"You guys were my best friends. Probably not now, I mean, been decades since we last talked. That reminds me, what made you call—"

Ford suddenly interrupted you with a hug.

"Woah, Fordsy, you miss me that much?" you laughed, hugging him back.

Don't call him that. His arms around you tightened.

You simply let him hug you.

It was such a long one.

And it only grew tighter by the second.

Like he never wanted to let you go again.

but his aim is getting better 🗣️

i love your idea so much btw, i too am a fan of one-sided pining.... the desperation yk.. I THINK I JUST SUCK AT WRITING FOR THAT WHAT 😟 (says the yandere blog)

[pierregazly]

are you warm enough? ꨄ oscar piastri

oscar piastri x reader

warnings: reader has the flu, sad!reader over being sick [945 words]

request: Could I ask for a 💗 with Oscar and "Are you warm enough?" prompt?

note: oscar is def the type to take care of a sick partner?? i dont make the rules but it's true! this is part of my 1.5k celebration! feel free to request away!!

It was inevitable it was going to hit you. It had struck through your entire workplace, through all your study groups. One by one, person by person, they were taken down. By a measly thing like the flu. You knew it was going to take you out, and you were going to hate every second of it.

Selfishly, you were hoping it would strike you the week Oscar was gone, not wanting to waste any of the short time that you did have with him by being confined to bed with a sickness that wouldn’t go away. Unluckily, just hours before his plane was scheduled to touchdown in Melbourne, you felt the tickle begin to climb in the back of your throat.

By the time Oscar’s bags were tossed through the front door of your apartment, you were curled up on the couch, a heated blanket over you while a half-empty cup of tea remained on the coffee table in front of you. Your head was pounding, your nose was stuffed, your stomach was aching. You couldn’t keep any food down, and it felt like the apartment had hit negative temperatures in the few hours between waking up with a scratchy throat, and Oscar coming through the door.

“Honey, I’m home,” he singsonged, walking around the corner and stopping dead in his tracks when he observed your state.

You had told him about all the people who were getting sick at work, at school, about how you had been diligent about making sure you were washing your hands and keeping away from them. How you had told him how you didn’t want to ruin the little time the two of you were finally going to be able to spend together, so you were being extra careful.

Oscar felt the sympathy wash over him as he observed you peak out from underneath the blanket, a look of sadness etched around your face.

“Osc… you shouldn’t come close to me. I don’t want to get you sick, too,” you said.

Ignoring your words, Oscar moved closer to the couch before sitting down beside your sock-covered feet. He gently maneuvered them so they were placed over your lap, rubbing soothing circles on your now-exposed ankle.

“I’ll suffer if I have to. Can’t make you take care of yourself when you look like you might freeze to death if I even move this blanket.”

Just from the blanket simply touching his leg, he could feel the heat emitting off of it, the number ‘6’ displayed on the power screen, indicating it was at the highest level the blanket could reach. 

“Do you want me to make you another tea? Maybe go pick up some soup? I can give my mum a call, see if she can make any and drop it off? Does that sound good?”

Your only response was a nod of your head at every question he threw at you, you weren’t one to ask for help when you were sick, always able to simply take care of yourself. But the idea of getting off the couch, moving from the warmth of the blanket to go and make yourself a tea, or dig through the cupboards to find a can of soup… it just didn’t sound worth it, at all.

“I don’t want to bug your mum, if you pass me my phone I’ll just order some soup here. I can get you something too, real food. But you may not want to eat near me, I haven’t really been able to keep anything down either,” the sniffles after every few words had Oscar grimacing.

“Oh hush, mum always has leftover soup. Someone’s always sick around there, she’d be more than happy to drop it off. Let me go make you a cup of tea, and I’ll be right back.”

It didn’t take him long to tinker around the kitchen, throwing your favourite teabag into the mug and heating up the kettle; texting his mum in the process to inquire about any recent soups she may have made. Unsurprisingly, dad had been sick just days before, excess of his favourite soup in a Tupperware container in the freezer. Nicole had promised to get it thawed up and dropped off before sunset, a message of ‘get well soon, honey’ likely to be written in black ink on the lid.

Holding the warm cup of tea in front of your face, he gestured for you to sit up, a groan emitting from your body as you did so. Gently placing the cup into your hands, he sat down next to you, a small frown marring his face.

“Are you warm enough, baby? I can go pull down a few more blankets from the cupboards? Or turn the heating up?”

Shaking your head, you placed the mug down on the coffee table in front of you, before snuggling up into his side. 

“Can you just hold me? You’re always so warm, and I just want to be snuggled up with you, right now,” you said.

The arm that was pressed between your two bodies moved out of the grasp, wrapping an arm tightly around your shoulders before pulling you in closer to his body. 

“I’ll hold you whenever you want me to, even if you’re going to have to be the one to explain to the team why I have the flu next week.”

The only response you gave him was a shrug of your shoulders. You had already grappled with the fact you were probably going to get him sick, if you had to explain to the team why one of their prized driver’s was now sick… then so be it.

y'all... i didnt realize how popular oscar was until this celebration i have SO many requests for him lol. i hope everyone loves this, and as always, thank you for celebrating with me!!

[evermoresversion]

For James Beaufort

He has a girlfriend and Ruby tries to ruin it but fail and if you do smut can you add it at the end no pressure to do this.

THE PHOTOS, JAMES BEAUFORT.

A/N I changed Ruby to Elaine because I don't really see Ruby trying to ruin a relationship.

PAIRING James Beaufort x Fem!Reader

TW/TAGS Established relationship, kind of angsty, fluff? at the end. There may be grammatical and spelling errors since English is not my first language.

SUMMARY Despite all of Elaine's attempts to separate you from James, she never succeeded.

REQUESTS ARE OPEN | JAMES' MASTERLIST | MASTERLIST

You and James had been dating for months now.

While most of Maxton Hall considered you both the king and queen of the school, others simply did not accept your relationship.

By "others" I mean Elaine Ellington.

Before, she saw you as a friend or something close to it, someone she could get along with since your father was one of the most important businessmen in the place.

But all thoughts of getting along evaporated the second she saw you arrive at Maxton Hall holding hands with the boy she wanted.

From that moment on she promised herself that she would do everything possible to separate you both.

She went from trying to kiss James in front of you at a party, ending in him rejecting her in front of everyone, to her asking one of his friends to try to flirt with you and making you uncomfortable, which ended in James asking someone to beat the shit out of him, since he couldn't risk his reputation doing it himself, but if he could he would have broken the boy's face.

Faced with several failed attempts, Elaine was beginning to despair, but the idea of letting you and James be happy was never in her plans.

Until one day she had an idea.

Somehow he got a girl quite similar to you from the back and had pictures taken of her kissing another guy at a party.

"Perfect." She muttered looking at the photos on her phone. No doubt James would fall and finally leave you.

She walked through the halls to where James was with his friends, you were in a class right at that moment.

"Can we talk?"

James sighed, tired of the situation.

"No, Elaine, I already told you a thousand times that..."

"It's about y/n."

That certainly caught James' attention. He walked away from the group so he could talk to the blonde.

“What about y/n?”

"I didn't want you to find out from me but it seems fair that you know, I shouldn't play with you like that."

"What the fuck are you talking about?"

She took her phone out of her bag and showed the photos to James, watching his every reaction, watching how his jaw tensed and how his breathing quickened.

"When did they take these photos?"

"Friday night."

James simply nodded and without saying anything else, he walked towards where Elaine assumed your class was.

She smiled victoriously and left, believing that James would break up with you in a few minutes.

But the next day all hope disappeared again when she saw you both arrive holding hands and laughing with each other.

As you both passed her, James caught her attention.

"Thank you for telling me about the photos."

"Next time make sure I'm not having dinner with his family when according to you I'm kissing another guy." You smiled with false kindness and both of you continued on your way.

Elaine, on the verge of having a tantrum, decided it would be best to wait until you both break up and be there for James.

Although that clearly didn't happen because you ended up engaged to him sooner than she thought.

disclaimer ── evermoresversion © 2024.

[badasoneandonly]

𝘎𝘐𝘝𝘌 𝘔𝘌 𝘠𝘖𝘜𝘙 𝘓𝘖𝘝𝘌 || 𝘏𝘞𝘈𝘕𝘎 𝘐𝘕-𝘏𝘖 × 𝘙𝘌𝘈𝘋𝘌𝘙

𝘞𝘤: 1,550k

𝘚𝘶𝘮𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘺:

Your quiet neighbor, Hwang In-ho, secretly obsesses over you, eliminating anyone who gets too close. When you discover his dark secret, you try to escape, but he always finds you. Realizing there's no way out, you surrender to his twisted love, trapped forever.

𝘎𝘌𝘕𝘙𝘌: !𝘠𝘈𝘕𝘋𝘌𝘙𝘌¡ 𝘐𝘕𝘏𝘖! 𝘖𝘉𝘚𝘌𝘚𝘚𝘐𝘝𝘌¡ 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌, 𝘗𝘚𝘠𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘛𝘏𝘙𝘐𝘓𝘓𝘌𝘙, 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘎𝘌𝘋𝘠, 𝘗𝘚𝘠𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘋𝘙𝘈𝘔𝘈, 𝘚𝘓𝘐𝘊𝘌 𝘖𝘍 𝘓𝘐𝘍𝘌 𝘞𝘐𝘛𝘏 𝘈 𝘋𝘈𝘙𝘒 𝘛𝘞𝘐𝘚𝘛, 𝘗𝘚𝘠𝘊𝘏𝘖𝘓𝘖𝘎𝘐𝘊𝘈𝘓 𝘋𝘙𝘈𝘔𝘈, 𝘛𝘙𝘈𝘎𝘐𝘊 𝘙𝘖𝘔𝘈𝘕𝘊𝘌, 𝘎𝘖𝘙𝘌 (𝘚𝘖𝘙𝘛 𝘖𝘍)

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘈𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘋𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘤𝘩𝘳𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘺 (𝘪 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘴𝘮) 𝘪 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦, 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘥... I would recommend listening to the music.

You were the kind of person who unknowingly captivated others, drawing them in with your warmth and kindness. Your smile was effortless, your laugh easy to find, and you didn't notice the effect it had on those around you. You were oblivious to the way people gravitated toward you, to the way they lingered longer than necessary in your presence. For you, it was simply normal. People came and went in your life- nothing too significant, nothing out of the ordinary. But for one person, everything about you was extraordinary.

Hwang In-ho, your quiet, reserved neighbor, had been watching you for a long time. You didn't realize it, but he had taken an interest in your life far beyond anything you could have imagined. He memorized your habits, knew when you came and went, what you liked to eat, and who you spent your time with. Most importantly, he made sure to remove anyone who posed even the slightest threat to your attention.

It started small, with little things you wouldn't have thought twice about. Casual conversations in the hallways, brief greetings when you passed each other in the building, nothing out of the ordinary. But over time, you began to notice the way his gaze lingered just a little too long, how his voice became slightly deeper whenever he spoke to you. And yet, you didn't think much of it. He was just a neighbor, someone you occasionally spoke with. You didn't know that behind that calm, collected exterior was a man consumed by obsession. It wasn't long before the disappearances started.

At first, you didn't think much of it. Daniel, the friendly coworker who had expressed interest in taking you out for coffee, had suddenly stopped coming to work. You asked your manager about him, but she simply shrugged and told you he'd moved. That was odd, but life went on.

Then it happened again. Jae, the guy who always helped you out at the gym, suddenly wasn't around anymore. You asked about him, but no one had seen him for days. No one could explain where he went. It was strange, but you figured he must've had his reasons.

And then, there was Jinwoo, the cute barista at the cafe you frequented. You'd barely noticed the way his eyes sparkled whenever you came in, or the way he nervously tried to start conversations with you. But when you showed up one evening for your usual order, he wasn't there. A new barista greeted you instead, but when you asked about Jinwoo, the response was the same-he'd quit. Moved away. The same strange feeling cropt Into your chest, but you ignored it. You never saw the pattern. The pieces never fit together.

In-ho, however, saw everything.

He always there, watching from the shadows, ensuring that no one got too close to you. When someone lingered too long or dared to approach you with intentions that weren't pure, he made sure they vanished. He wasn't cruel, no. He was simply protecting you, ensuring that nothing or no one would take you from him.

You never noticed. Not until it was too late.

One evening, you were sitting on your couch, enjoying a quiet night in. The city buzzed outside your window, but inside, all was peaceful. You were so absorbed in your thoughts when there came a knock at the door-sharp, deliberate.

You opened the door to find in-ho standing there, his usual stoic expression in place. For a brief moment, you felt a flicker of unease, but it was quickly replaced with a smile. He was your neighbor, after all.

"In-ho? What's up?" you asked, your voice warm as you greeted him.

"I brought you something," he said, his voice steady, almost too calm.

"Oh, you didn't have to," you replied, still not picking up on the subtle tension in the air. You gestured for him to enter, stepping aside.

He held out a small, remarkable box. "Please. Just open it."

You gave him a puzzled glance but took the box anyway. "Alright, let's see what you've got." You sat down at your table and began to unde the ribbon.

But as soon the lid was lifted, the air seemed to freeze.

Inside the box was something you never could have imagined-a severed head, blood still fresh, Its eyes wide open in a frozen expression of terror. You recognized him immediately. It was Jinwoo, the barista.

Your body went cold, your mind struggling to make sense of what you were seeing. The box slipped from your hands, landing with a dull thud on the floor. You staggered backward, your heart pounding in your chest.

"In-ho..." you gasped, your voice barely a whisper.

He stepped closer, his gaze unwavering, his expression still as composed as ever.

"I told you, Y/N," he said softly, his voice low, almost tender. "I'll do anything to keep you safe. I can't let anyone else get close to you."

Your mouth went dry, panic rising in your chest. "W-what did you do?" you asked, your voice trembling.

"He was a threat," In-ho said matter-of-factly. "I couldn't let him take something that wasn't his to have."

You stumbled back, the room spinning around you. Your mind screamed for you to run, to get away from him. "This is insane! You can't do this, In-ho!"

His expression darkened, a flicker of something dangerous crossing his face. "Insane?" he repeated. "What's insane is letting people like him get close to you. You're mine, Y/N. You always were."

The words hit you like a slap to the face, but you couldn't move. His eyes were dark, possessive, and you felt your body freeze as fear took over.

"I don't want to hurt you," he continued, his voice softer now, almost pleading. "But I will do whatever it takes to protect you."

The knife in his hand glinted in the low light, and you realized just how much he meant what he said. "Put it down, In-ho," you whispered, trying to find some way to reason with him. "Please. We can talk about this. Just... just stop."

He looked at the blade in his hand and then back at you. His voice softened, but the edge of control never left. "I can't let you go, Y/N. You're mine. I'll always keep you safe. No one else can have you."

It wasn't until the last word left his lips that you realized how true it was. You weren't just a passing thought to him. You were an obsession. And nothing would ever change that.

You didn't remember how you managed to escape that night. All you could remember was running. Running until your lungs burned and your legs shook. The streets were dark, and you didn't know where you were going. All you knew was that you had to get away from him, from his suffocating presence.

But the thing about in-ho that he was always watching. He would always find you.

A few weeks passed in a blur. You changed your phone number, moved to a new apartment, and tried to put as much distance between yourself and the nightmare you'd narrowly escaped. But it was never enough. In-ho was always just one step behind, and one by one, people in your life began to disappear.

You couldn't outrun him. You couldn't hide. And so, eventually, when you saw him again, standing in front of you with that same calm expression, you knew there was no use fighting. You were trapped in his world now.

"Y/N," he said softly, his voice gentle. "I told you, didn't I No one else can have you. Not while I'm alive."

And in that moment, you understood. You couldn't run anymore. There was escape.

"I'll stay with you," you whispered, barely able to meet his gaze.

In-ho's eyes softened, but there was something cold beneath the tenderness. "You're mine, Y/N. I'll keep you safe. Always."

And just like that, you belonged to him. Forever.

𝘛𝘢𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵: @thatbitchanna27 @endlessfl4mes @sunshiines-stuff @warlabels @icomehereforthefics @totowolfffcheco @m0rtifiedg0th @crystalizia @hwang-inhosb1tch

𝘈/𝘯: 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘢 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘴𝘵... 𝘈𝘯𝘺𝘸𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘪'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘰𝘧 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘴𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪'𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘰 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘺 𝘵𝘶𝘯𝘦𝘥...

[taegimood]

— fate (c.sb) ♡

pairing: choi soobin x fem!reader genre: angst, fluff, smut rating: nsfw, mdni wc: 1.1k warnings: toxic ex (emotional neglect, abandonment), unplanned pregnancy, body insecurity, pregnancy/breeding kink, brief smut, let’s ignore the questionable timeframe lmao

a/n - this is actually not at ALL what i had originally planned for this concept, it was supposed to just be another one of my lighthearted smutty ramblings (which i might still do in a separate post cuz this concept + soobin’s breeding kink is too juicy for me to pass up lmao) but i like it regardless.. i haven’t done an actual writing piece in ages. this one might be weird tbh lol but i hope you enjoy ~ [written w my lovely @miupow in mind <3]

──────────────────────

it had been 12 months since you met the man who you thought would be forever — foolishly, blindly — the memory as bitter as the winter when you first saw him, mistaken then as something sweet.

it had been 10 months since you began to give him everything that he wanted — the body and the heart that you were never one to gift lightly — convinced that it was love, that it meant more in his eyes that you could never truly seem to read (though you always managed to fool yourself that you could).

it had been 6 months since you started doing anything and everything to make him keep wanting you, losing yourself so slowly in the process that you couldn’t even see it until one day suddenly you did.

it had been 3 months since he left you faster than the changing season when you told him the news, a hurricane of empty eyes and venomous words thrown like daggers that left you bleeding…

and it had been 3 months with a baby in your belly when choi soobin came into your life.

this time, the winter was nothing in comparison to the softness of his smile and the sunlight in his eyes when he stepped through that coffee shop door and into your forever.

—

soobin knew from the moment he saw you that you were someone he could see himself falling in love with.

he had no idea what made you say yes when he asked if you would have a cup of coffee with him;

(maybe it was the fact that he tripped and spilled his milkshake all over you while trying not to look like a loser as he passed by your table and then profusely promised to make it up to you and your poor pair of soiled sweatpants);

and he also had no idea what kept your pages closed even as he got to know you, what kind of shadow it was that would pass over your eyes at his compliments or what made you flinch at an accidental touch of your hands —

but he did know that more than anything he had ever wanted,

he wanted to see the smile reach your eyes.

~

falling in love with soobin came easily.

no matter how hard you first tried to fight it, deny it, run from it… it was as if loving him was something that you were simply made to do.

every soft smile, every careful touch, every word a caress as gentle as the breeze on a summer sunrise; every part of soobin slowly began to fill the cracks of your shattered heart with gold.

the day that he found out about the baby was the day that he told you his heart was yours.

“i know it hasn’t been long and i know i may sound crazy, but whatever happens or whatever doesn’t, y/n, i will love this baby, and i will love you.”

if this child’s father was a starless night then soobin was entire galaxies, the warmth and resoluteness in his eyes enough to melt away any claim that that man had left behind, and as far as you two were concerned, this baby’s real father was standing right here at your side.

——

it’s become harder to find room to love yourself these days as the months go on; your growing belly making it difficult to feel attractive, the insecurities that came with those months of feeling unwanted slowly creeping back into your mind and telling you that you’re not enough to make him stay.

logically, you know that your pregnant body is the only body of yours that soobin has so far seen, and of course here he is still wanting you — he proves it almost every night — but regardless you find yourself crippled by doubt and shame.

frowning at yourself in the mirror after every shower, stuck between the bubbling feelings of love for your baby and the guilt of hating how your body looks because of it.

little do you know, soobin has realized something about himself that he never saw coming before:

your pregnant body has him absolutely losing his mind.

he’s never felt so turned on in his life than when he’s got you laid across his sheets in the evenings with the curve of your swollen belly brushing against him as he slowly fucks into you, your tits full and bouncing softly with each thrust, small hands clutching onto him, your face flushed and beautiful and more undone than he’s ever seen it — free to let go of yourself in his arms.

it’s in these moments that he’s convinced he was made to worship your body with everything that he’s got.

soobin is so desperately attracted to every part of you, so determined to pour his love into you as many times as it takes for you to be able to see exactly what he sees every day;

he can’t help himself, can’t keep it in as he ravishes your cunt, the things he moans and whispers like a prayer in your ear enough to send shivers straight down to your core and push you over the edge every time.

you’re so so beautiful, baby, gonna be the most beautiful mama..

he touches you like he’ll never get the chance again.

perfect belly, perfect tits.. wanna fill you up like this, want you pregnant with my babies, f-fuck-

his name falls like a chant from your lips;

wanna give it all to you one day- wanna make you my wife and fill you up all round and pretty- you’re just s-so pretty, bunny, so perfect.

you feel prettier each time you fall apart.

i love your body, love our baby,

‘n i love you,

i love you,

i love you.

and when you ask him one morning if he means those things he always says, watching as a familiar rosy hue dusts across his dimpled cheeks, soobin takes your hand in his and promises you a lifetime.

——

it’s winter — your favorite season.

the air is crisp and full of starlight as you take a deep breath, the world falling quiet when you meet your husband’s eyes.

“the kids are asleep,” he whispers from the doorway,

and you’ve never been gazed at so tenderly.

you think about where you started and where you are now.

it’s been 5 years since choi soobin walked into your life, bringing the glimmering sun along with him.

5 years since he began showing you the meaning of well-kept promises and honest eyes,

of things that last and things that are allowed to be let go.

5 years since you welcomed your first child into your arms

and 3 since you welcomed your second; all beaming smiles and dimples just like her daddy;

and it’s been 12 months since your belly started growing with your third.

as you look down at the sleeping baby in your husband’s arms, every severed string of the past melts into one.

you smile at the boy from the coffee shop.

he smiles back, and soobin has all he’s ever wanted, because he has you —

because finally the smile reaches your eyes,

and he’s home.

[amphitriteswife]

Savior

Source: lookism chapter 526

Pairing: child Jonggun x Child reader

Warnings: forced child marriage, bad home situation.

Genre: angst

Note: sorry that it’s so long😭 and i might make a pt2

Do not read if you’re uncomfortable with any of these themes

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‘Hi. We’re engaged by the way.’ Meeting you for the first time was quite the experience. Jonggun himself often found himself thinking as to why he was engaged in the first place, and why it was with you. Most of the time you didn’t have any filter and simply only did things for your own amusement, he had never been to your estate before in northern Japan. At first he thought you were annoying and sassy, but over time you became the only person to actually reach out to spent time for him. Not because he needed to do something but simply because you wanted to see him. Jonggun found himself enjoying your company, in a way you reminded him of Haruto. He felt like he could say anything without getting punished for it. With you he could feel a sense of freedom, even if it was just a little. You had been wanting to reach out or pay a visit after it had been revealed that some of the smaller clans had been wanting to overthrow Shingen, but Jonggun had advised you to stay put for a while and wait until he reached out first. So you had been waiting..and waiting…

‘They want to kill me.’ You had waited for a signal from Jonggun, but seeing him in a state of panic and desperation wasn’t something you’d thought you’ll see. ‘What are you talking about?’ You asked him, trying to move your way out of the guards grasp. ‘My lady, if they find out you’re even in contact with the young master you’ll be in danger too! The headmaster has given us orders to not let you get through.’ The news of Shingen passed away as the headmaster of the Yamazaki clan was big news, even reaching the streets of northern Japan, but even so. What did the death of Shingen have to do with them trying to kill Jonggun? And to add up to the problem, the fact you were now in contact with Jonggun brought your own clan in danger. There was a lot at stake in this situation, and the Yamazaki’s are fast. Who knows when they find out that Jonggun had been in contact with you? You’d probably be one of their high suspects too. You couldn’t help but contemplate the situation carefully, your eyes casting downwards onto the floor. The best course of action was to cut ties with him, it was the best and effective way in order to protect your family…but what about him? He never had someone to fall back into, he just lose his father who had shown him just a fraction of love he winked so hard for, his mom is now with his uncle and they’re trying you get rid of him… ‘buy me some time.’ You told the guards sternly, it was against the wishes of your own father.. someone who sold you to the Yamazaki clan in the first place to clean up his own went doings against them in the past. Both guards hesitate for a moment they weren’t exactly keen on letting you put yourself and the family in danger, but at the same time it was no surprise of you felt for the young master. Well…the now dethroned young master.

Finally the two guards let you go. Only with the promise to not do anything reckless and not be out too long as the headmaster would get suspicious. Taking Jonggun’s hand you let him to a secret part of the garden, one where the camera’s couldn’t quite catch you yet. Jonggun followed you closely, his eyes looking to the grass. It had been a long time since he smelled the scent of fresh grass and plants, it took him a long way to come here all the way to the estate. Yet he couldn’t help but feel selfish. He was putting you in danger. He didn’t want that, he didn’t want you to suffer because of him. He hated making you feel like this, but ultimately he also hated the fact he was the one to cause this in the first place. ‘Tell me everything.’ You whispered to him, the newspaper only revealed the ‘passing’ of Shingen and nothing else, not why Jonggun is on the run. Jonggun hesitated a lot, but eventually spilled everything to you, how his dad passed and the fact that Shintaro was now the headmaster…as well that his dad seemed to care about him after all. From the way he spoke it was clear that his head wasn’t used to parental love and couldn’t understand why Shingen tried to save him instead of himself. It disheartened you to realize the fact how he hasn’t felt love ever since he was brought into this world, the concept of love itself seemed foreign to him. After hearing all of the things that happend you hugged him very tightly, your arms wrapped around his torso that was clothed with a hoodie. He never wore hoodies before not matter how cold it got. ‘I’ll help you okay? Try not to get caught, i’ll find sometimes. I promise.’ You told him, hugging him even tighter. Jonggun seemed se be stunned by the hug and didn’t really hug you back. Only after a little while did his arms droop over your form and did he lay his head on your shoulder. ‘Please don’t go..’ it was a soft and rather pleading sound, never in a million years did you expect him to utter such words much less in such a tone. ‘I’m not going to abandon you, don’t worry-’ ‘Miss! The headmaster is searching for you!’ The moment was cut off by the whisper like yelling from the guards. Eager to make sure no one got in trouble you gave Jonggun a quick kiss on his cheek, his cheek was cold and a little wet from the watered plants. He put a hand on his cheek where you kissed him and looked at you. ‘I’ll be back.’ You gave him a quick nod before quickly coming out of the bushes to ease the situation…yet when you returned, Jonggun had vanished from where the two of you had met earlier

It took you quite the convincing each time of your father to actually let you go outside since the Yamazaki’s had actually reinforced their watchful eyes on you. During one of the times you once again roamed the streets of the underworld the smell of smoke filled your nostrils. Was this what Jonggun saw before he arrived at your estate? This wasn’t living. The amount of teenagers here was surprising but you couldn’t help but think that most have their reasons for being here or turning to this kind of lifestyle. After having searched the area where Jonggun was supposedly to help last seen you let out a sigh and turned to walk back where you originally came from, only to hear the faint familiar voice of someone. ‘Are you searching for my son?’ Somi park questioned you, her voice was flat and stern, no emotions regarding the situation for her son or you…or herself. Her eyes didn’t hold any emotion nor light in them either. You didn’t answer her and instead brazed yourself of the possibility of the man next to her doing something to you. ‘He’s not here.’ The man beside her told you, lighting up a cigarette placed in between his teeth. ‘But if you’re fast enough, you might just find him in time when you arrive in Korea.’ So he went to Korea?..you felt a mix of emotions. You were glad that he was finally going to be save and able to start again. But at the same time…you never got to say goodbye. He didn’t even tell you that he was leaving the country….you would’ve gone with him if he asked you, no hesitation. One could argue that you the both of you didn’t have anything to lose but that was simply not true. Perhaps he didn’t. But for you everything was at stake…because he was your everything…

Thank you for reading 😔🙏

[kykyonthemoon]

If it’s not too much, could I ask for the Love and Deepspace boys who accidentally hurt the (if you could gn) reader’s feelings? (They argued and they were wrong but lashed out either way sorta thing?) if not, completely understandable! Tysm!

The Hurts

Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.

🌻 Rafayel/Xavier/Zayne x Reader Tags: gn!reader, hurt/ comfort, angst A/N: I can't see our LIs to be the type to lash out at their loved ones, so I modify the request a bit. Thank you for requesting, anon-san. Hope you enjoy this story.

Masterlist

Request a fic

𝑹𝒂𝒇𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒍

Loving someone is giving that person the chance to hurt you and trusting that they will never do so.

You had given him so many chances, and what you got in return was being hurt over and over again.

Like sitting on a never-ending roller coaster, that's the feeling when you were with him.

He made you happy, he made you sad. He gave you surprises and he also shattered many of your dreams.

Then, you had enough.

You trudged back home with heavy steps after a difficult mission. Blood drenched your uniform. The blood of Wanderers, and the blood of your comrades. The mission was a complete failure. There were a lot of people injured, and it was completely your fault.

Because you trusted someone who shouldn't have been trusted.

Rafayel was standing on an empty street corner, waiting for you. He knew you would always take the same route home. You were too predictable, that was why he played with you like a toy.

You grit your teeth. You and Rafayel each held one end of the rubber band. But he was always the first to let go.

It hurt, the feeling of being betrayed hurt so much. But you still kept walking. You did not want him to see you miserable like that. You would not give him the opportunity to trample on your feelings and trust anymore.

Rafayel's dark eyes gazed at you. You saw scales sprouting out from his face and neck. That was the day when Lemurians were at their weakest.

Nevertheless, he made the decision to stand here and wait for you to come home. As soon as he had heard the news from his spies, he immediately ran to find you even though he was in his weakest state. You stopped moving when you were just close enough away from him, to look straight into his eyes with full of indignation.

“I will explain everything.” Rafayel spoke up. And he should, but you were sick of it by now.

“That's enough, Rafayel.” You cut him off before he could say anything else. “You've said enough.”

You trusted his intelligence, only to lead your comrades into a trap. He always took advantage of your absolute trust to hurt you and the people you cared about. Especially when there was something related to the Lemurians, he suddenly became a different person. Someone you did not know.

“Your secrets…” You said, “Just keep them to yourself… I think I've had enough of your lies.”

"I did not lie." Rafayel reached out towards you but you backed away. “Everything I told you about that operation was true. I simply…”

“You simply didn't tell me the whole truth.” You said bitterly.

Rafayel withdrew his hand. He appeared so frail that he may pass out at any time at the side of the road. This time, you would not care as much. You would just leave him be.

“You showed concern for me, then you left me alone. You helped me, then pushed me into a trap... What is real, Rafayel? What is the truth that ever comes out of your mouth?”

Rafayel was silent, staring at you with pain. What an excellent performance. You almost believed him, one more time.

“What are you going to do, then? You could kill me with just one blow right now.”

“Don't challenge me.” You threatened with a glare. You hurried past Rafayel, wanting nothing more than to get home and clean off all the blood on your body and calm yourself down. Yet, despite his extreme weakness, he still has the ability to draw you in. Your eyes met his sadness. In an instant, it seemed as though you had descended to the ocean's lowest point.

“You asked me what was true.” He said, his voice shaking. “You may not believe anything else I say… But this, this alone is the truth… I will never, ever let anyone hurt you… I will never lose you again…”

𝑿𝒂𝒗𝒊𝒆𝒓

You stood in front of Xavier's house waiting impatiently. As soon as the door opened, you immediately rushed inside without even saying hello.

“Is there anything wrong?” Xavier asked gently, but his innocent look made you even more angry.

“You crossed me out of that mission, didn’t you?” You replied in anger. There were several rolled-up reports in your palm, ready to be torn apart. You aimed it in his direction. “This was originally the mission assigned to me! Why did you request to do it on your own?”

Xavier saw the problem as soon as he glanced at those papers. He tried to explain:

“That mission is too dangerous. I can't let you do it by yourself.”

“Then would it be better if you went alone?”

You gave Xavier a glance. He was trying to calm you down, but every step he took closer you moved further away. You were upset because he decided to enter a risky area without you, maybe endangering his life, and you were unaware of it until everything had been taken care of. Even with you by his side, he carried the weight of everything by himself. You did not want that, because you felt compelled to share everything with him.

"I'm sorry." Xavier was honest with you. “I should have asked you first. I decided on my own because I thought it was the best thing for you.”

“What's best for me?” You retorted. “Do you even know what is good for me? To participate in my own mission, to decide to do things as I wish, or to fight by your side!”

Only silence covered the room. You collapsed into his couch, burrowing your face into your hands. You hated this feeling of helplessness. He took away your right to make decisions, your right to accompany him on this dangerous mission. The thought that he did not need you was so painful.

“You don't believe in me…” You spoke up after a long while. When you looked up, you saw that Xavier was still standing there, looking regretful and helpless because he was unable to touch you at the time. “I thought we were a team. If we're a team, we won't hide missions from each other, we won't sneak around alone behind the other person's back..."

“I'm really sorry. That mission is much more dangerous than area N109. I can't let you risk it.”

“That means if you had to choose again, you would still do the same and hide it from me, right?”

Xavier remained silent, but you already knew the answer.

You did not know what hurt more; Xavier hiding that mission from you, or he not trusting you could complete it?

You got to your feet, looked at Xavier, and proceeded to the door.

"I truly put in a lot of training to be in a team with you. But maybe that's not enough. If you think you can do it all by yourself then so be it, I don't see the need to stay here anymore.”

"Don't." Xavier seized your hand fast to hold you there. “Don't say such things…”

You drew away from him fiercely. Xavier let out a cry and embraced his left chest at that very time.

It appeared like he was hurt. You scowled and extended a hand to touch him.

“Are you injured?”

Xavier tried to smile, but his face gradually turned pale. He took that opportunity to pull you back and wrap an arm around your waist to keep you in place.

“It's only a little cut.”

“How can it be small when you look so painful?”

Xavier struggled to breathe. He replied:

"I'm sorry. Maybe it's true that I couldn't do that task alone. You were right. We are a team, I need you.”

You feel pleased, but still very angry with Xavier. It was because he chose to go alone that he got injured like that.

“From now on, I will definitely not hide anything from you anymore. So… don't leave me alone, okay?”

You were silent for a while, but wrapped your arms around Xavier to hug him. “I have to check your wound first.”

𝒁𝒂𝒚𝒏𝒆

The more you care for someone else, the deeper the wound they cause you.

It had been a month since you could contact him. Just like that, he disappeared, again.

You were frightened. Just like when you were a child, suddenly one day, the friend who used to make snow seals for you disappeared without a trace. No one could hear about him. He had also covertly assigned your monthly health check to another physician without you knowing until you got to the hospital. The last time you had heard about him was when Dr. Greyson told you he were rushing off to the Arctic on urgent business.

How funny it was to learn that from someone other than him. No farewells, no assurances not to worry. And for an entire month, he was absent. Although you didn't have the authority to make him tell you his schedules, at least you wanted to know how long he was going to be gone and whether or not the mission was risky.

You grew more afraid and then angered as you considered him going missing once more. How could he do this to you, after everything you had been through together? Yet he dared to show his face to your house on a rainy night.

When he saw that you were covering yourself from the rain with your jacket, he moved forward to shield you. But you dashed over to the porch. You just looked at him from a distance, but near enough to see that he was alright. After that, you entered and slammed the door in his face.

Not a word was said to each other. He did not even call your name or send a text message. He stood in the pouring rain for a long, long time. You couldn't care less. That night you went to sleep fitfully, and when you woke up the next morning, your auntie neighbor told you that he had just departed a short while after your room's light went out.

You did not try to contact him again. This cold war was initiated by him, so let it be. It was now a week after his return, and you had to go to the hospital for a check-up before an important mission. When you saw the name of the physician assigned to you was Zayne, you requested for another.

Dr. Greyson found you in the waiting area. He asked about your refusal to let Zayne examine your health. Honestly, you could not find any reason to answer that wasn't too personal. So you just sat in silence.

“The first thing Zayne did when he got back was to read your files. He wanted to make sure you were fine while he was gone.”

Dr. Greyson said. You lowered your head and looked down at your clasped hands, experiencing a range of conflicting feelings.

“I don't know what happened between you two, and maybe it's none of my business, but Zayne is a friend, and I need to butt in just this once…”

You looked up at Dr. Greyson.

“Zayne went to the Arctic to seek assistance from his teacher. Things got worse as it became more and more difficult for him to control his Evol. I caught him injuring himself with his Evol. He made the decision to suffer alone until things got in control in order to protect others.”

You were shocked. Zayne had been suffering because of his Evol for the past month without you knowing, while you were blaming him for leaving you.

"Perhaps he refrained from telling you out of concern that you would worry and accompany him there."

The rest of the conversation drifted away. Then you stood up, tried to hold back your tears as you walked to Zayne's office. He sat behind the computer screen, looking up at you with mixed emotions in his eyes, although his face still remained calm.

You entered slowly, noted the scars on his hands. There were fresh cuts that were not yet healed. He must have been very hurt and lonely. What must you do to make him open up to you? What must you do so that you can share the burden with him?

“You… What's wrong?”

As soon as Zayne spoke, you hid your tears by walking towards him in a haste and pulled him into your embrace.

“Please don't go without a word... I won't be able to bear it if you disappear again..."

[vlassk]

Keeper

Stanford Pines x Reader

She/ her Reader

After learning of Stanleys past with Ford y/n, she decided she wouldn't be getting close to the twin. But she finds it difficult as Ford is just so damn cute.

Warning: age gap, angst, 18+ later on. Swearing. Pervy Ford(lmk if i missed any) not proofread as i no no wanna

You had lived in Gravity Falls for a couple of years now. Stumbling upon it, one winter road trip and falling in love with the beauty. As the years went on, you made good friends, including one neighbor. Stanford Pines was always one person you could talk to about the supernatural. Although he liked to pretend it wasn't real or not as big of a deal, he would always hear you out on your discovery in the town.

You being in your early 30s, the friendship was awkward at first. You saw the faces around town from friends and passer bys. But as time went on, people saw that it was simply platonic.

You spend most of your free time helping him around the house and grabbing food together. He told you about his time in prison and everything about his brother Stanley...

You would linger on his brother. Knowing how horrible he treated Stan and how he would never hear Stan out. Being the Better Brother. The days were good. You ran a local Inn a little out of town. The primary owner would travel most of the time.

One summer though The lnn that you ran shut down. And your manager had to let you go.

"Ughhh, what im i going to do! My place of living! My job!" You slam your head on the table, a loud thud being heard

"Kid, why dont you just ask your parents for some help? Im sure they will under -" Stan lifted up your head to place a small pillow under your face.

"No! Do you know how disappointed they will be?! YEARS of Tuistion for West Coast Tech just to run an Inn?! In a small town! Stan...stanford pines they would kill me and bring me back home..." You plead out looking up only to cry more and slam your head back down, the pillow guarding you.

" y/n you haven't told them?!" Stan yells out, only making you cry more. He paces the room and looks towards you. His frustration leaves when an idea pops into his head.

He sits next to you at the table

"Ya know.. my great niece and nephew are visiting once summer. Break starts...ill need someone to watch the store, maybe evenbuild some cool robot stuff for the shop! Ya know, wendy likes, so take her days off... you could even stay here in the storage closet..." He lays his hand on your back.

Your breathing slows as you look up at Stan.

"Really..." You wipe your tears away, going to hug the old man.

"But you gatta tell your parents at least"

"Fine..."

A couple of months had passed, and you were now a normal part of the household. Mable and Dipper always took you on adventures. You never realized how many crazy creatures were around. You would always come home and help stan though, building him add ons to his favorite chair, making animotronics for the shack. You know things were going wrong when the Fbi arrested Stanford. You remember looking at him as he was taken away. A sad look on your eyes.

" y/n, please. Its not true they dont know what they are talking about!"

You didn't say anything. You didn't know what to say.

You looked over the kids, trying to prove his innocence when they found a code for the vending machine. Soos stood in the way of the machine, and mable threw glitter at him to make him move.

As you made your way into the basement, you could only think of the worst things.

What if he wasn't really Stanford. What if he was someone else. What if everything was a lie like they say. Are you even safe.

You hold onto Mables hand as Soos led the way. Once you get to the bottom, you see all the tech Mable goes on about how Stans is the same man and he loves us. All you can think about is all the tips you gave Stanford on how to fix or build different things. Dipper finds the 2 journals putting all 3 together to see the blueprints of something.

You only look at the basements, build, scan the area, hear Dipper Freak out, but your mind races, and you can't focus on his words. You look at the countdown reading 1 minute. Dipper and mable run into the next room. Turning keys. The strange Build glows. Before Dipper can press the shutdown button Stan runs in

"Dont touch that button!"

You turn to see Stan walking through the door, picking up his pace to you all.

"Dipper, just back away! Please dont press that button, you gatta, trust me!" Stan pleads. Slowing as he sees that Dippers hand is hovering over the red button.

"I should trust you. Why?!. After you stole that radioactive waste?! After you lied to us ALL summer?! I dont even know who you are!"

"I know all this is nuts, but i need that machine to stay on!" A beep is heard after Stans pleads. You start to float up with the rest as the triangle structure opens up. A space like portal opens

"STANFORD?!" You scream out. trying to reach for your friend.

"Dipper!" Mable screams, her foot caught on a wire holding her close to the button

"MABLE HURRY SHUT IT DOWN," Dipper screams out from across the room.

"Stan, why wouldn't you tell me?!" You cry out. Your hair floating around you.

"Kid...i couldn't. I didn't know how!"

As mable crawls her way down stan tries to float towards her, soos swooping in to tackle stan

"Soos, what are you doing?!i gave you an order." Stan struggles between Soos

"Sorry Mrs pines if that is your real name, but i have a new job now! Protecting these kids!" Soos tries to push him away from Mable.

"Soos, you idiot let me go!" Stan continues to reach out. You kept floating. trying to go back down.

Dipper goes to tackle stan as well. You find a way to get to mable holding her down as you both hover over the button.

As Stanley pleads with you both, you see mable tear up.

"Grunkle Stan,"Mable says between tears. "i don't even know, if you're my grunkle! I wanna believe you, but"

"Then listen to me. Remember this morning when I said I wanted to tell you guys something?" Stan breaks from Dipper and Soos.

The computer reads 20 seconds. A power surges through making you float away from mable. You hit the roof of the. Building,The others fly against the rooms walls.

" I wanted to say that you're gonna hear some bad things about me, and some of them are true, but trust me. Everything I've worked for, everything I care about, it's all for this family!"

"Mabel, what if he's lying? This thing could destroy the universe! Listen to your head!" Dipper cries out.

Mable looks up to see you, floating closer to the portal. You glanse back at stans pleading with your eyes. Stan gives you a nod.Mable watches as you close your eyes. Relaxing your body

"Look into my eyes, Mabel! Do you really think I'm a bad guy?"

" He's lying! Shut it down NOW!"

"Mable please"

Ten Nine

"Grunkle stan"

Six five

"I trust you"

"MABEL, ARE YOU CRAZY?! WE'RE ALL GONNA-"

Mable lets go floating up to grab onto your leg. Pulling you closer and away from going through the portal.

One...

Screams are heard as a light blast blows up.

The light shooting through the whole town.

You slowly open your eyes, seeing a figure in front of the portal

"...stan..." You pull your head up from the ground

"What who is that?" Dipper stands

"The author of the journals..." Stanford also stands up.

You see, the man pulls off his goggles, revealing a face just like stans. He looks down at you. As you slowly sit yourself up. You're the closest one to him.

"My brother..." Stan sighs

"Is the the part where one of us faints.." mable giggles

"Ohoho, I am so on it, dude" soos faints on cue. Falling to the floor.

"Finally! After all these long years of waiting, you're actually here! Brother!"

You watch as the man you're assuming Stanley walks up and punches Stanford.

"This was an insanely risky move – restarting the portal! Didn't you read my warnings?!"

"Warnings, schmarnings. How's about maybe a thanks for saving you from what appears to be, I don't know, some kind of sci-fi sideburn dimension?"

"Thank you? You really think I'm gonna thank you after what you DID, THIRTY YEARS AGO?!"

"What I did? Why, you ungrateful...

Stanley pins Stanfords arms. As they bicker, the man slams him on the ground. "

"Get off him, you asshole," you shove Stanley off Stanford. Mable stands next to you

"Hey, hi. Mabel here. Quick question – WHAT THE HECK IS GOING ON HERE?!"

"Stan, you didn't tell me there were children down here... And some sort of large, hairless gopher? And... uh, " you see the mans eyes dart from top to bottom, then back to the top.

"A woman..."

"Heh heh. I get that a lot." You laugh at Soos. As he smiles back at you. You watch as Stan eyes you. Wondering what thoughts he could be having.

"They're your family, Poindexter. Shermie's grandkids." Stanford rolls his eyes.

"I-I have a niece and nephew? Greetings. Do kids still say greetings? I haven't been in this dimension for a really long time."

He bends down to shake mables hand

"Whoa, a six-fingered handshake? It's a full finger friendlier than normal!"

"Heha, I like this kid. She's weird."

"And you are?" He extends his hand to you. You ignore it and turn away.

"A friend of Stans..."

Stanley Huffs turning back around

"I-I can't believe it. You're the author of the journals!" Dipper fanboys

"You've read my journals?"

You don't listen to the conversation, but you help Stanford up. He thanks you as he stands. You see stanley eyeing you both out of the corner of your eyes. You dart your eyes towards him, making him look off.

"Well, it looks like we're stuck down here for a while. Who wants to tell us their entire mysterious backstory?" Mable sits back down on some rubble.

"Yes, I have some questions about all this myself, Stanley." The man walks over ignoring you to the next if his abilities

"Stanley..."dipper puts a finger to his chin

"But your name is stanford..." mable questions

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" You leap forward at stan, soos catching you

"Wait, you took my name?! What have you been doing all these years, you knucklehead?!"

"Yeah, Grunkle Stan, no more lies! You owe us some answers – What's the deal with this portal? Why did you keep this a secret?" Dipper exclaims.

"And what happened between you and your brother?" Maybe points at stan angered.

"Im hoping all this aligns exactly with my fanfic, Stan. If not, I will be very disappointed."

You stop struggling against soos. Only to pause and give him a confused look.

"Stanf-...stanley why do you keep lying to me?!" You plead with the old man

"Kid listen... i did what i had to do"

"No. I won't accept that. Tell me why. Was everything about Him even true? " You point to the other man.

The now understood Stanley sighs. I looked up from his brows.

"Everything about HIM is correct. I just switched the names..." he shrugs. With another sigh, he leans against the wall, telling the tale of the two brothers.

As they both took turns telling their upbringing, you couldn't help but watch the twin. He would smile at the good times, and you would catch him watching you as well.

You had to admit he was handsome. You never saw Stan in a way, but Stanford was totally different even with the same face.

If you, too, matched eyes, you would simply roll them and look away. Even though you were curious about this handsome man.

"Oh! This story's so sad! I know what you two little broken teacups need: to hug it out! Hug it out! Hug train's comin' in the station. HUGAPOLOOZA! 2000!" Mable triez to push the men together.

"Kid, will ya knock that off? I'm tryin' to tell my life story here. "

"I already know all this..." You walk off sitting in the room where the portal once was. You could still hear the conversation. Noting again at the Dream school Stanford wanted to go to... but couldn't. You burrowed your face in your legs. Conflicted, you never thought you'd meet him. You were so angry at all the things he did to your friend. But knowing everything and knowing he's alive. Could you be nicer to him?

You hear a Scream and turn to look at the room, dipper fan boys over the journals.

"just got excited there... About the journals... Keep-keep talking."

"I began to keep a journal..."

Dipper screams again. You walk into the room staring at the child. He looks up at you and calms himself down.

"Just going to ignore that..."

He goes on you decide to sit back in the room with the others.

As they retell the fight, you can't help but stare at Stanford. Aggravated at every word he says.

He pauses for a moment. Staring just as intensely

"What is your problem?" Stanford exclaims, throwing his hands up.

"You... you are my problem. you're dangerous. " he looks shocked at your words. And leans back a bit, not knowing what to say.The story finishes as the agents from upstairs get closer. Stanford makes a plan. Telling everyone to stay put as he travels upstairs.

Mable hears the agents leave and runs upstairs with your protest

"Great-uncle Stanford, that was amazing!"

"Let's not go crazy; it was serviceable."

"Thank you, kids, but please, call me Ford."

You stand on the porch. Watching the kids talk to Ford. You catch glimses of him looking at you. Your heart beats faster when he does. Is this anger? You're not nervous..are you?Stan pushes the kids off to bed. He turns to look at you. He mouths out 'stay'. You fix your posture, waiting to wave the kids off while they go inside. Saying a goodbye to Soos and moving towards Stan.

You punch Stans arm

"Ouch why me?!"

"That's for lying to me, you big idiot! Dont do that again!"You furrow your eyebrows. Stan frowns, rubbing his arm. You go in for a hug. Letting go just as fast and looking at Ford.

"So...who are you agai-" you cut him off by slapping him. Both stan and fords face in shock.

" That's for building such a STUPID machine... and hurting my friend!"

Stan begins to laugh. Resting a hand on your shoulder.

"Who even are you?!" The man shouts, angerly walking towards the house. The sun is going down.

" haha shes a keeper! Now Y/n go to bed. I gatta catch up with this man..."

"What's the point of me staying behind?"You shrug your shoulders. Pushing the old man slightly a small okay left your lips.

"No hard feelings, old man?" You smile and walk away, turning around to point finger guns at both men, going into the house and upstairs to your room.

"Old man? Rude, " Ford says under his breath

The two men head in as well. I'm sitting at the table to talk. Catching up on the little things

"Nothing so bad, ya know... people come and go...?"

"Hmm...and that women you keep around?"

"Huh? Women? Haha, that's Y/n. She's a good friend.."

"Just friend?"

"Of course! She's a good kid. Takes care of Dipper and Mable and always makes great adjustments to her past works. " Stan leans back in his chair, talking about you normally

"Past works? What does that even mean" Ford questions.

"Ah, she's a graduate of West Coast tech... some phds in some stuff i dont really pay attention. But she makes awesome stuff. Let me tell ya, " Stan points to a few things you've improved or added.

"Wait, she went to WCT?? Wait, why is she here with you?" Ford laughs still in shock of your success.

"She's been a friend of mine for a while now. She used to work at an Inn that closed down, so i gave her a place to work and sleep. Listen, i felt bad leaving her alone. She needed someone"

"Interesting... " fords mind goes off. Picturing you again. How angry you looked at him, the disappointment when you would stare. But how beautiful you are. How every time you looked at him with hate or pity, all he could see was the opposite.

"I know that look,"Stan leans forward

"What look?" Ford looks away at anything but his brother.

"That look... you stay away from her..." stans eyebrows furrow. His fist on the table

"I dont even know what you're talking about." Ford looks away again, and this finds his head resting on his hand.

"Stay. Away." Stanley gets up.

"But... I'm happy you're home," he holds his hand out. Ford takes it, and they get up to go to bed. Stopping by the bathroom for one last conversation, you can't help but too listen in on.

[bboricha]

rule breaker

➳ 🚫 mdni ➳ pairings: college!scaramouche x afab!reader ➳ synopsis: you cannot believe that he convinced you to do this. fucking in the library again, you mean. part 1 (both can be read as standalone pieces) ➳ wc: ~700 ➳ cw: not proofread, exhibitionism, unprotected, scara has a tongue piercing, he's referred to as "kuni," lmk if i missed anything

you told him that last time this happened, it would be the only time and now look at you. sitting on his lap, hugging him close to yourself so that anyone walking by would simply write the two of you off as an overly expressive couple displaying PDA. though, it would take just a little bit of interest for anybody to realize that he’s slightly thrusting up, fucking his girthy length into your cunt as you quietly whine against his neck. a little bit of interest just to take a look at your face and see the hearts and stars fluttering over your eyes as you use his shirt to muffle your sounds.

it wasn’t your fault! you couldn’t help it! especially not when he suspiciously sat next to you and placed his hand on your thigh, rubbing the flesh and slowly moving upwards and under your skirt, playing with the hem of your panties until his hand happened to slip under. and especially not when he starts rolling your clit against the tips of his fingers, dipping another finger into your dampening hole. and when he starts abusing that gummy part that he knows you love? you just simply cannot be blamed for falling for his capable fingers and antics yet once again.

you know that the chances of someone coming to the corner where your table sat between old documents and boring manuscripts laced with dust were practically zero to none, but your heart can’t help but thump every time you hear a noise coming from somewhere other than the two of you. it was hard to stay focused on someone catching you both though, kuni made sure to keep your attention on him. he’d kiss you, nip at your neck, tease your nipples, flick your clit, or give a particularly hard thrust that almost makes you squeal. you can’t tell if that’s just him being needy or telling you that it’ll be fine and to look at him instead, but regardless it makes your heart thump in a different kind of way.

“i’m not sure what you like the best—you seem to tighten up at everything i do,” he laughs breathily. you flush at the bluntness of his words, about to pull away from the hug until he removes his hands from your hips to hug you back instead, keeping you in place. you’re about to protest when you hear voices nearing and you freeze. he puts your head down against his shoulder, holding it there when you hear footsteps quickly passing by your heart racing a mile a minute. you squeeze against him at the sound as he softly grunts in response. the footsteps are now fading and you cautiously lift your head, scoping the area to make sure the both of you are alone again.

“i really think you have a preference for this,” he smirks and you hit him.

“i swear this is really the last time we’re doing this,” you hiss, about to open your mouth again to argue more until he kisses you, shutting you up promptly. you haven’t even noticed him taking off his glasses to do so, the thought immediately interrupted by the feeling of his piercing against your own tongue. thrusting again, you moan into his mouth. he’s right, honestly. the thrill is almost irreplaceable, but you’d rather go celibate for the rest of your life than to admit that to him out of all people. all of a sudden, kuni grinds against you as you bite back a whine, clutching onto his sweater to ground yourself.

“baby,” he groans out, his voice is raspy and the sudden use of a pet name makes your cunt throb, “it’d be in your best interest to keep your eyes on me.” his thrusts are getting sloppy as he brings a hand towards your clit, rubbing fast figure eights against it. you can feel the coil in your stomach winding so much that it’s close to snapping, the sensation making it harder to contain your noises.

“where?” he asks, his pace unrelenting as you recklessly mutter “inside,” pulling his face close to yours to pull him into another kiss. he gives one last flick to your clit, making the coil snap as you convulse around his cock. holding you down against him, he releases his warmth inside of you, groaning against your neck. he breathes heavily into your shirt as you both come down from your highs quietly. you’re thinking about how to run to the bathroom to clean yourself up before anything could leak out until he opens up his dumb mouth asking,

“wanna go again?”

➳ an: inspired instantly by this. thank you to this artist for this. thank you. he is so fine. i do not know how to act.

[icarusflewsworld]

Rhysand & Cassian & Azriel X OC

Hello, here is the chapter 5 of a fanfiction on the world of Acotar where our three favorite Batboys are the mates of a single woman.

I hope you like it! Please feel free to comment and telling me what you think of the story, it would make me very happy. In any case, thank you for reading ❤️❤️

! Don't forget to read the previous chapters ! : Here

Happy reading!

Chapter 5

Morning came far too slowly for the Illyrians, who had been unable to sleep at all, unable to keep their thoughts away from the pretty blonde haunting them. Was she all right? What happened to her? Why did she go out alone so late at night? Where did she go? 

They'd wandered outside for hours, examining every inch of earth, rummaging under every bush, analyzing every human mind in the city near them, but nobody saw her and they didn’t find her anywhere. She simply disappeared. They try to reassure themselves, remembering that she'd told them she was used to going out that late but they couldn't help worrying. If she was indeed their soulmate, she was the woman of their lives and they couldn't bear to lose her now. She was human, weak and fragile, and this world was full of dangers. Anything could have happened to her tonight. 

Rhysand was lying widthwise on the bed, his feet dangling over the side, his hands clasped behind his skull and his violet eyes glued on the ceiling. He didn’t move since he let himself fall there earlier when they'd finally given up on the idea of finding Luxiana. After hours in the snow, watching Cassian and Azriel lose a little more control every second, he'd decided to give up and to come back to the Archerons' house. He had to keep a cool head for his brothers, but in truth he was as panicked as they were. In truth, he'd hoped she'd be back at the Archeron mansion, but she still wasn't there. He remained motionless, but his heart pounded and his body vibrated. He wanted to be close to her, he needed to be. He'd written the letter to the queens after coming back, but had to force himself to concentrate and stop deviating his thoughts to Luxiana. He didn't know what it felt like to meet his soul mate, but all the things he was feeling right now were both terrifying and magnificent.

Cassian was pacing up and down the room. He had the impression that this was all he’d been doing since he'd met his soul mate. He didn't really know how he'd react or how he'd feel when it happened, but now that he did meet his mate.... Hell, it had only been a few hours since and he'd already gone through every possible shade of emotion. In fact, Cassian had never felt so much. He didn't really know what it was, but he could have sworn that whenever it came to his soul mate, the sky felt like it was falling on his head. He was bubbling over with worry, concern, anger, doubt, but at the same time, joy and excitement. Many conflicting feelings fought fiercely inside him and he was filled with many doubts and questions, but it didn't matter, because the only thing he wanted was to see Luxiana again. And they'd lost her. 

Azriel sat in a corner of the room, leaning against a wall, staring straight ahead into the void. His shadows rages around his figure and everywhere else, searching for her, searching for his soul mate. If she passed under the shade of a tree, if someone uttered her name in a dark corner of the city, if she whispered near a piece of gloom, if a piece of her white hair caress the darkness, if the sound of her laughter echoed not far from his shadows, he would find her. All his abilities and power were deployed, but even so, he still didn’t hear from her. Where the hell was she gone? If something happened to her while he didn’t even have a chance to get to know her, Azriel would never get over it. He had a right to happiness and he was sure she could bring it to him. She was his key, his solution. 

So when the first rays of sunlight broke through the bedroom window, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian didn't even try to understand. She'd said she'd be back at dawn, it was dawn and she still wasn't there. It was time to start looking for her again.

“She didn't come back, did she?” Cassian asked his brother, knowing full well the answer to that question, but also knowing that if anyone had to know about things before he did, it was his brother, who had planted spying shadows all around the property.

Rhysand stood up in the positive hope of an answer, though he also already knew it was negative. 

“No,” growled Azriel, leaping to his feet.

Their chests were crushed under worry and anguish. Cassian ran his hands through his hair then, unable to resist it any longer, threw himself at the bedroom door to open it. He didn't even need to consult his brothers about what to do; they had to go in search of their soulmate to make sure she was all right, and this was obviously also very clear in the minds of Azriel and Rhysand, who followed him without question.

Their fists were clenched and every muscle contracted, giving them a robotic gait. It was utter nonsense to feel a hurricane of overwhelming emotions like this, yet if the three Illyrians didn't have to move to find her, they'd curl up in a ball somewhere and try to calm down. 

So when they left the room, almost running in the corridor, to go down the stairs, they petrified on the spot in the middle of the steps when they saw Luxiana crossing the hall alongside Feyre.

The three Illyrians widened their eyes, only to be instantly relieved by the young woman's presence. A weight that had been on their shoulders disappeared, and did so much good to them, that they were finally able to take a deep breath. That said, confusion soon set in. The three glanced at each other in surprise and accusation. Azriel's shadows had not noticed Luxiana's presence. Rhysand hadn't felt her return with his power and Cassian hadn't heard her come in. How the hell was that possible?

Their gaze returned to the woman who was probably their soulmate, and their breaths remained trapped in their throats. She was divinely beautiful. She changed into a pale yellow petticoat that matched the flowers of the same color on her corset. Her hair was gathered in a large, high, slightly undone bun, from which strands escaped to fall across her face. She was radiant, with no dark circles or traces of last night's outing. She looked so pure and innocent that the three brothers would never have dared approach her under normal circumstances, with their blood-soaked hands and the danger that constantly surrounded them. But with this woman, they had no choice. She was their soulmate. They still had to verify the information, of course, but their bodies, instincts and spirits were in no doubt about what this woman was to them.

Luxiana set her eyes on them, freezing in the middle of the hall, stopping to smile at what Feyre had just said and making her dimples disappear. The three black hair males were electrified from top to bottom, unable to breathe normally, paralyzed under the young woman's bewitching blue pupils, which were the only things they could think of now, their minds going blank. 

When the blonde noticed the three imposing Illyrians, stoically standing in the middle of the stairs, she let out a loud exclamation of joy as she made a little jump of excitement. She smiled again with all her teeth as she detailed them. They were downright sexy and she was glad to see these beautiful creatures in the mansion, it was a good difference from cold Nesta and apathetic Elain. Her gentle, friendly smile made the heads of the three Illyrians turn. 

“Hello,” said the blonde in a soft voice, coming towards them almost at a run. She bounded up the few steps to them, leaving a jaded Feyre at the bottom of the stairs. She stopped right in front of them, clasping her hands behind her back, her dimples digging her cheeks in the most adorable way possible. “Did you sleep well?” 

She was glowing. It was the only thing the brothers could think of. She was so sunny and cheerful that she seemed to glow. She looked so innocent, for God's sake none of them could make her dirty with the atrocities they had committed. 

“Not as good as if we'd spent the night with you,” replied Cassian, as he was the first to come out of his torpor. 

Luxiana's eyes widened before she realized what he just said. Her cheeks flushed and she rolled her eyes at his answer, which nevertheless pleased her. She loved having succeeded in charming the commander of the Armies of the Night Court. Her smile grew more shy. 

Luxiana's cute expression made Rhysand's chest vibrate. Cassian's heart missed a beat and a smile of pride sprang to his lips, while the sight of the blonde's expression drew an involuntary growl from Azriel, whose chest was awash with possessive feelings. 

“How was your night?” asked Rhysand, hoping to get some information about her escapade. “Was it pleasant?”

Luxiana winced, wrinkling her nose at the memories. She'd cried a lot last night. She'd had to tell her family of heart that she was leaving them to follow Feyre and protect her. Then she smiled, remembering that she'd felt someone following her last night. Three people with wings flying invisibly beside her. It was them, she had no doubt about it. She didn't know why they'd followed her, but she'd been proud to have sown these three fae warriors so easily. 

“Much less than if I'd spent it with you,” Luxiana replied, mimicking Cassian's tone and echoing his words.

The Illyrians had to summon up all their self-control not to start jumping like children at the joy they just felt at what she just said. Though, her annoying way of remaining mysterious about her occupations only made them seethe inside. 

“Be careful what you say in front of Amarantha's whore, he might turn it against you,” Tamlin spat in disgust as he and Lucien entered the hall.

Rhysand tensed with his whole body, but tried not to show that Tamlin's words were having an impact on him by smiling haughtily. He lifted his chin and puffed out his chest, giving himself a superior air. Rhysand hated that nickname and the memories that went with it. His two brothers' fists clenched until they were white, as they couldn't bear to hear their friend and lord spoken of in this way, especially not after the atrocities he had endured for fifty years under Amarantha's control. They glanced threateningly at Tamlin and were about to hurl a scathing retort, but Luxiana interrupted them. 

She glanced at him sideways, not even considering him enough to turn back to him. “Be careful where you walk, you might step in the shit that comes out of your mouth.” 

Rhysand widened his eyes, then smiled, his chest lightening. Was she defending him? 

Tamlin gritted his teeth and wanted to take a step forward, but Lucien at his side held him back by the arm. “You're defending the wrong man. You don't know what he's done, all the atrocities he's committed,” the redhead interjected with a grimace of disgust, pointing at Rhysand with his chin. “How cruel he is! How the members of his court are the most violent and detestable beings!”

The little blonde's face contorted cutely in anger. Her eyebrows furrowed and her lips pursed as her fists clenched. Maybe these men were cruel, but she didn't care. It was thanks to one of them that her best friend had survived, and that was all that mattered. “I know what he had to do instead of your high lord and that's more than enough for me,” replied the pretty blonde with a fierce anger that surprised everyone. 

Feyre huffed, “He could have done it differently, been nicer.”

Luxiana gritted his teeth. She loved her best friend no matter what, but she couldn't let her believe such silly things. She turned entirely to face her best friend, crossing her arms as if she were using her body as a shield to prevent bad words from reaching Rhysand.

When Rhysand noticed it, he thought he was imagining things, but his heart began to beat wildly in his chest. Cassian's eyes sparkled, she had guts and he loved that. Azriel's jaws muscles were pounding, she was unconscious, putting herself in danger by not necessarily provoking creatures stronger than herself. 

“Oh, you think so?” Luxiana gasped. “And that without putting yourself in more danger than you already were? Or attracting even more of that madwoman's insanity to you?” 

“Rhysand chose to work with Amarantha,” Tamlin defended her. “He did horrible things for her and because he wanted to. He's responsible for…” 

“It doesn't matter,” the blonde interrupted authoritatively, slicing the air in front of her with her hand. “if Rhysand had not been there, Feyre would have died under that mountain and that woman would still be in power because you couldn't even get your brainless ass to help her, so shut up. You shouldn't even be allowed to open your mouth, you don't even deserve to be able to touch Feyre, or to love her.”

Tamlin snarled and half-transformed into a beast - blond hairs grew on his cheeks, forearms and the backs of his hands, while sharp claws took the place of his fingernails - to take several menacing steps towards Luxiana. The three Illyrians tensed, ready to intervene, but Feyre held Tamlin back by placing his hands on his torso.

“You don't know what I've been through under the mountain,” growled the blond, pointing at Luxiana and stepping around Feyre. “That man you're so keen to defend is just a traitorous little whore who betrayed his whole country.” 

Luxiana saw red. He dared to position himself as the victim in all this? A smile emerged on her face. A cold, menacing, creepy smile that paralyzed Tamlin for a second. Lucien’s face turned white, while he took a step backwards, surprised to see so much madness on the face of such a pretty, innocent young woman.

“You bastard,” she blurted out with terrifying calm and coldness. “How dare you talk about him like that?” She began to walk slowly down the steps towards Tamlin with an air of assurance, confidence, but creepiness.

Tamlin shuddered. That girl seemed completely crazy.

Luxiana was mad with rage. She hated Tamlin, she hated him, and it was beyond belief how angry she was with him. She hated Tamlin because he was just like her. He had failed to protect Feyre just as she had. The hatred she felt for Tamlin wasn't for Tamlin, it was for her. So she certainly wasn't going to let that dirty bastard denigrate Rhysand when only Rhysand had managed to help and save Feyre. He'd won Luxiana's loyalty. 

The air entering Rhysand's lungs caught in his throat. His whole body vibrated with a strange warm sensation he'd never felt before. Someone was defending him. She was defending him. It was the first time anyone had defended Rhysand. Even as a child, he'd always had to fight for respect; he'd never been defended by anyone. After all, he was the lord of the night court, he was the shield of his soldiers, the pillar of his court, the one who defended his friends, who sacrificed himself for his family, but today, she, a fragile human, stood up for him without fear. His heart missed a beat.

“Who the hell do you think you are?” screamed Tamlin as he pounced on the blonde, her face flushed with anger, trying not to look intimidated by the death glare in the Luxiana’s blue pupils.

Feyre and Lucien had no time to move when their two best friends were already facing each other. Tamlin's claws were raised, ready to bring them down on Luxiana. The three Illyrians reacted without even consulting each other. Cassian slid in behind the blonde with mad speed, wrapping his arms around her belly to pin her back to his chest and lift her up, taking a few steps backwards. Azriel's shadows rushed in waves to grab the lord of the spring court's wrist and immobilize him in mid-air, while Rhys placed himself between the young woman and Tamlin. 

“Let go of me!” spat Luxiana, mad with rage, her face now distorted with anger as she realized Cassian had caught her. She struggled, throwing her fists and feet into the void in front of her, hoping to reach Tamlin, while Cassian took yet more steps backwards, pulling her further away.

The hatred boiling in the veins of the three Illyrians was painful and explosive, but it was different for all three of them. 

Cassian was mad with rage, how could Tamlin, that dirty rat, traitor personified, have dared to speak of Rhysand in this way, but above all, how could he have dared to want to hurt this young woman? His soul mate. 

Azriel was almost out of control, but it wasn't because of Tamlin's lack of respect for Rhyand, it was because of Luxiana. Was she crazy? She was just a fragile human and had thrown herself head first at a powerful fae without a second thought. 

Rhysand tried to keep his posture straight, confident and cool, not wanting to show how much he could care about what happened to Luxiana, but damn it, if they'd reacted a second too late, she'd have been hurt and it would still have been his fault.

“Get out of here before we rip your head off,” ordered Rhys in a sharp voice.

His power buzzed in his muscles, just waiting to be unleashed on Tamlin and tear his limbs off. Ever since his betrayal that had cost the lives of his mother and sister, Rhysand had wanted to make Tamlin pay for his behavior, but the hatred he now felt towards him for just wanting to hurt his soulmate was driving him even crazier. It hurt to hold back and he didn't even know what good conscience was stopping him.

Tamlin gritted his teeth and was about to say something, but Feyre stepped between him and the murderous gaze of Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel to pull her husband back towards the exit, but he couldn't move until Azriel had finished breaking his wrist with his shadow. 

Lucien grabbed Tamlin and pushed him towards the exit, hurried out of the house.

Feyre froze in the doorway for a moment, then half-turned, pinching the bridge of her nose between her forefinger and thumb as she closed her eyes. Eventually, she opened them again to cast a jaded, slightly irritated glance at her best friend before also leaving the house without a word. 

Luxiana's heart ached at the sight, feeling bad for having acted impulsively again, but she felt so much anger. At herself.

Rhysand, Cassian and Azriel were able to relax when the three faes from the Spring Court disappeared from their field of vision. The violet-eyed fae and the blue-syphoned Illyrian half-turned to Luxiana, still in Cassian's arms, to give her a surprised look. 

For Rhysand, surprise was mixed with admiration, for Azriel it was mixed with anger. Cassian's grip on Luxiana's belly would loosen slightly, but the young woman still couldn't touch the ground, her legs and arms dangling in the air. Cassian just couldn't bring himself to let her go. 

She crossed her arms, squinting as she gently glared at Rhysand and Azriel facing her. “Did you see the way he talks about you? You should have let me smash his face, he deserves nothing but that.”

Rhysand raised an eyebrow, still staring at her strangely, but a smirk emerged on his lips. He turned fully towards her and took a few steps in her direction. “Are you defending my honor, Miss?” His voice was more playful, admiring and confident than he would have liked to show her, but he couldn't hide his excitement. “And for what reason? Everything they say is true, you know.”

Luxiana frowned, recoiling with her head hitting Cassian's torso. “Oh, but I couldn't care less about all the atrocities you've committed, my lord.”

The three Illyrians widened their eyes.

“I don't care if everything that's just been said about you is true, the only thing that's certain for me is that you saved Feyre’s life and from that moment on, you earned my complete loyalty. So no matter how horrible and cruel you are, no matter if you're the most evil fae in this country, I'll defend you and your honor until my body won't let me or until you do something bad to Feyre that outweighs saving her life.”

She was breathless from the stream of words that had poured from her mouth and which she hadn't been able to hold back from saying with glaring determination and sincerity. Her bun was now even more undone, the strands of her hair hanging around her face giving her a wild look, but it was the brilliant gaze, with which she pierced Rhysand, that made her the most beautiful woman in the world in his eyes. No one had ever protected Rhysand, not like this. Some people had protected him physically, but no one had protected his honor, especially not by being a fragile young human. 

Azriel burned with a mixture of anger and admiration. She was a brave little woman, daring to defend a powerful fae twice her size, but above all she was completely mad and suicidal. If they hadn't been there to protect her, she'd have been injured and might even have died. Azriel broke out in a cold sweat; his soul mate was completely unconscious and had no instinct for self-preservation. He was going to have to be very careful with her. 

Cassian tightened his grip around Luxiana's belly. His body hummed with admiration. She had so much guts. She was so brave to have thrown herself headfirst against a fae twice her size and at least thirty times more powerful. And the bright, life-filled look in Rhysand's eyes warmed her heart. She apparently had the gift of warming them from head to toe in more ways than one.

[myloveoffandoms]

One More Thing

Warnings: Age gaps? (reader mid 20s then all the dads of the show lol) I don't think anything else? Horrible grammar sorry.

Parings: Negan Smith x Y/N, Daryl Dixon x Y/N, Rick Grimes x Y/N

Summary: When Negan visits Alexandria for the first time and he plans on taking one last thing before he leaves.

Notes: Cleaning out my word docs. I have no clue what this is?? Only re-read once for editing.

Word count: 1.1k approx

Credit for divider: @Baexywth

“Well, well and who do we have here?” A man standing slightly infront of Rick sings out. I’ve assumed his name is Negan. After recent events. I look away from where people- his people were throwing random items from our homes into the street.

I make eye contact with him, unsure who he was speaking to. I glance around searching to see if he was in fact speaking to me or someone else.

“Cat got your tongue?” Negan asks his smile easing ever so slightly. He maybe evil but the salt and pepper beard and green eyes made him immensely attractive.

I eye him up and down for a moment, clearly taking too long when Rick speaks up. “That’s —”

“No! Rick. I’m speaking to her.” Negan cuts him off. He eyes me like I’m a meal, something he wants to devour. I shift slightly on my feet.

I wait one more moment seeing his smirk almost fade from his face before I answer. “It’s y/n” I say simply.

“What a pretty name, for a fine-looking woman.” He speaks low with a newfound smirk.

I glance once at Rick, then once to Daryl. Daryl looking the worst I’ve seen. I didn’t want to look away, but my instincts told me not to linger. I looked each one of Negan’s men in the eye before finally landing back to him.

“Not a woman of many words I see”

I don’t react just continue to hold his gaze.  “Now if you don’t stop looking at me like that… We might just have to go somewhere… more private” His expression almost darkening at the comment. I scolded myself mentally for shifting at the comment. I didn’t want him to see me nervous, weak.

Ricks hand tightens around the bat he holds, his knuckles almost white.

I roll my eyes mentally for I was about to play into this man’s games.

“Excuse my… rude welcome. I don’t tend to play well with strangers.” I smile lightly. I intertwine my hands in front of me. More so to hold something and not show anger or nervousness.

He smiles brightly at my comment.  “Oh my, do you hear that? A voice as sweet as honey!” He walks closer to me. “You, will be joining us.” He eye’s me up and down once more.

I eye Rick for a moment. Unsure of what to do.

“Walk on this side of me darlin’.” His hand gestures to the opposite side of Rick.  I look at Daryl as I walk to Negan’s side. Daryl looks at me once then quickly back to the ground.

I wanted to run and hug him. Tell him he will be okay, but I can’t. Not without Negan knowing how close I am to certain people. Something in me is telling me to hide it.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Sometime passed as we walked around, Alexandria. Negan mainly speaking to Rick but having small conversation with me from time to time.

“So, how did a pretty young thing like you end up at Ricks Camp?” Negan asks.

I always loved being referred to as an object. “I’m not a thing.” I turn to look at him.

He stops and looks at me tilting his head ever so slightly. “My bad darlin’. How did a pretty, young woman end up at Ricks camp?” He rephrased.

“Walkers attacked, he found me. Helped me out and well here I am.” I say holding my arms out for a moment. Locking eyes with Rick. I would never say it to him but how he stood right now was the most docile and weak I had ever seen him. Negan watches me for a moment.

“Ahh, Rick. Didn’t know you were the type to save a damsel in destress.” He laughs out. Grabbing Ricks shoulder “Or was it just cause she’s hot?” He says loud enough for others to hear but into Ricks ear as if a secret conversation. Rick tenses at the comment. Holding Negan’s stare.

“I’m not one to judge but she’s a little young for ya Rick.”

“No” I start to speak. “I mean, it’s not like that.”

“Oh, and how exactly is it?” Negan turns and questions me. I look to his jacket, the belt at the bottom, the leather all still intact. I like it, if he dies I want it.

“I mean… He sees me as a sister or friend… not… anything else.” Hell for all I knew Rick seen me as a child, but that was a fact I wasn’t willing to admit to myself. Negan laughs at me more of a chuckle then a full belly laugh.

“Oh, Darlin’…” He is cut off by a commotion that takes his attention. Although fear goes through me that he will hurt someone else. I’m thankful for the conversation to come to an abrupt end.

Did I find Rick attractive? Yes. Did I find Daryl attractive? Yes. Are both men old enough to be my father? Also, yes. Negan was good at telling when someone was lying, and I did not want to admit I had any attraction to older men. Especially Rick and Daryl.

︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶ ୨♡୧ ︶︶︶ ⊹ ︶︶

Negan’s men were filling up the last of the goods they planned on taking from us. Daryl had been put in the back of a truck. I was no longer able to see him. I could feel my heart break when he didn’t respond to the asinine request of pleading his case to stay.

“Oh, and Rick… she comes with us.” My heart drops for a split second it feels like I’m in a free fall.  He can’t mean… I look between Negan and Rick.

“She—” Ricks eyes pleading.

“Now.. consider it a gift. I’m making it one less mouth for you to feed.” Negan states sternly.

“She’s an asset—” Rick attempts once more.

“I said! She comes with me, or do I need to teach another lesson?” His tone signifies there is no room for debate and although asking a question, his demeanour tells its rhetorical.

“Stop… I’ll go…” I step closer to the two men. I didn’t want to leave, this had become home but I knew I needed to do my part, and right now that meant going with him to keep the peace.

“Y/n” It’s a whisper. Rick wants to argue, but even I know he won’t fight Negan.

“I’ll be okay…” I say quietly looking at Rick once more before going over to Negan.

“Now, that’s a girl.” Negan smiles triumphantly as I stand beside him. “You’re riding with me sweetheart.” I look to the truck and see Negan opening a door, waiting for me to get in. I look over my shoulder one last time and then climb inside the cab.

A/N: no sweet clue what this is...