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ceilidho · 4 months ago

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fear of god

There's someone outside the spacecraft. You don't remember them being part of the crew. Part 6 masterlist

The interior door slides open when Gaz pulls down the lever on his side, fitting into the recesses in the wall until there’s nothing between you. He’s the same and yet entirely different with nothing separating the two of you; more corporeal, undeniably flesh and blood. You can feel it now—the heat of another body in close proximity.

His stare penetrates you to the root, eyes so dark that you can’t look away. It’d be easy to get lost in them, like falling into a black hole, body stretching out into infinity, even the smallest subatomic parts of you torn apart. Expressive eyes, the kind you might look at and think that there’s someone behind them worth knowing. But the sharp angularity of the intelligence there makes your skin crawl.

Farah finds her voice before you do. “Who are you?”

Gaz breaks his stare to glance at her, his frozen smile suddenly warming. “We haven’t met; I’m Gaz.”

When he holds out his gloved hand, Farah only looks at it instead of taking it, disbelief warring with her common sense. You wish you could hear the thoughts running through her head.

“You can see him too?” you whisper to her.

Her head snaps in your direction, dark brows already furrowed. “Of course I can. What are you talking about?”

It’s perhaps impossible to explain without making yourself sound insane. More insane, in any case. But with the proof in front of you now, you can’t deny any longer that Gaz is real; that after days spent worrying about the state of your crumbling mental health, the very cause of your concern now stands before you, witnessed by someone else. You’d laugh if you didn’t feel faint.

Because he is real—all six feet and two inches of him. Close enough to reach out your hand and touch. His skin looks buttery soft; if you were a foot closer, you’d almost be tempted to take his hand if only to see if your fingers would pass through.

Without warning, the intercom suddenly crackles to life again and a familiar voice blares from the speaker. “Panel secure. Headed back now.”

The sound of Nikolai’s voice sends a jolt of electricity up your spine. Even Gaz glances over his shoulder at the door and the vastness of space behind it. There’s nothing there, but his thickly accented voice asks for confirmation and you know it must be him, not a trick of the comms system. You stumble back until you hit the wall behind you.

“Kolya?” you hear Graves respond sharply, his voice still carrying through the ship over the intercom. “Shit, is that you? Do you hear me?”

“Черт поб��ри. Yes, I hear you, mother hen,” Nikolai laughs in response. His laughter is a crisp, hollow sound over the intercom, like crackling blue electricity. “On my way back now. No need to pluck all your feathers out.”

His nonchalance is, frankly, unreasonable for the amount of time elapsed since he last checked in with the crew.

A whole body comes into view this time, an astronaut waving to you through the window of the exterior door. Even from the other side, you can tell it’s Nikolai, the sheer size of him apparent.

“Alhamdulillah,” Farah breathes, pulling the lever down for a second time to initiate the return sequence.

Like deja vu, you watch as the first set of doors open and Nikolai slowly makes his way into the airlock one slow step at a time, the man looking no worse for wear. Beside you, Farah whispers something that you miss. The doors slide shut noiselessly behind him, and again you watch as a man in a spacesuit undergoes repressurization, the tensing of his shoulders making his discomfort with the process apparent.

He already has his helmet off before the second door even opens. “Like I said, easy peasy. Can someone get me a coffee now?”

It’s almost too much for you to digest in such a short period of time, your emotions slingshotting between losing Nikolai and finding a strange man floating in the middle of space and then hearing the Russian man’s voice again like nothing happened. Lost time, or gained time.

He must pick up on the way you and Farah simply gape at him in stunned silence.

“Something the matter?” Nikolai asks, a thick caterpillar eyebrow arched. A second later, he registers the other man in the hallway and grins. “Ah, you met Gaz. Nice guy, huh?”

“You know him?” Farah asks, her incredulity apparent.

“We met outside. I sent him in to get warm.”

You’re properly dumbfounded now, staring at Nikolai with abject disbelief for giving someone permission to board the ship without the commander’s permission.

The footsteps of your commander and his second echo as they race down the hallway from the cockpit, the metal clunking under their boots. Louder and louder until they reach you, coming to a halt just a few feet away.

“Didn’t think I was gone that long,” Nikolai murmurs, stripping out of his spacesuit at the same time. Without a word, Farah helps him tuck it back into the storage locker he originally took it from.

The two men stalk forward the remaining distance and when you look over at Graves, you can see the worry and relief writ large across his face, his attempts at concealing his emotions only partially successful.

“What the fuck happened?” Graves barks, his expression stern until his eyes land on Gaz standing peacefully in the middle of the corridor, and then something shifts. A brief uncertainty clouding the pale blue of his eyes. “Who’s this?”

Gaz lifts a gloved hand in greeting. “Name’s Gaz.”

“Found him outside wandering around,” Nikolai booms, slinging an arm over Gaz’s shoulders in an obvious show of fondness. “Poor bastard couldn’t find his crew.”

“Just wandering around in the middle of nowhere?” Graves asks, cocking a brow, skepticism thick in his words.

Gaz smiles sheepishly. “It’s my fault. I got a bit turned around.”

Graves hums, mulling over the information. “…Turned around, huh?”

“Yes, sir. Looked away for a second and then my group was gone.”

“That doesn’t sound pleasant at all.”

“No, sir. Not at all.”

His deference is second to none. You could almost imagine yourself believing him, swept away by concern for his welfare.

There’s a difference though. You’ve had the benefit of several days of acclimation.

“Sir—commander,” you interject, swallowing when Graves turns his attention on you, the microexpression that flits across his face betraying his displeasure at being interrupted. “I’m sorry, but this makes no sense. I don’t see how…well, how he could have survived out on his own. I mean—” Your eyes flick towards Gaz. “I’m sorry, but none of this makes any sense to me.”

Graves’ lip curls up. "What doesn't make any sense?"

"Well, should we have brought him in? This just doesn't seem like protocol—"

“I don’t get your point, doctor. Should we have just left him out there to die? I thought you had that whole Hippocratic oath to uphold.”

None of this makes any sense to you. Apart from Farah, they’re being entirely too cavalier for happening upon a man in the middle of nowhere. There should be talk of heading back to Earth or quarantining him in the brig.

“It’s not about that,” you croak.

“I don’t understand you, doctor. You of all people should want to help.”

But he’s the man I’ve been seeing for days, you almost scream, but the blatant disapproval in Graves’ eyes makes you hold your tongue. You know your instincts aren’t wrong. Basic science isn’t wrong. Even if his spacesuit were able to provide basic environmental protection and life support, the longest a human might be able to survive after becoming untethered from their ship would be just under nine hours.

You don’t know why this isn’t registering as strange to any of them. They act as though there’s nothing at all unusual about a man floating in space without any spacecraft within fifty million miles of him. As if this were just something that happened from time to time, and not an unprecedented anomaly.

“Well, you could probably do with some shut eye after your trip, I reckon,” Graves says, clamping a hand down on Gaz’s shoulder and giving it a light squeeze. “We have a spare bunk near mine—bit cramped, but I’m sure you’ll make do.”

Gaz tips his head in thanks. “I’d appreciate it.”

“And—sorry, forgot to ask, but are you good? Not feeling faint or sick or anything? I know our doctor’s a little prickly, but whatever you need, she can help with.”

The weight of Gaz’s gaze makes your body feel leaden.

“All good for now,” he says, still smiling serenely. His stare never wavers, smile never dips. “But don’t worry, love. I’ll come find you when I need you.”

Nikolai’s arm drops from his shoulder and Graves leads him off down the corridor to recuperate in his new room. The scream is buried in your throat; if you try to cough it up, only blood and mucus will come out.

You can only watch helplessly as they walk away, Farah gone by the time you remember to look for her.

After that, hours pass by without any sight of the man who recently boarded your ship. You don’t see much of anyone in fact. Hadir eats lunch around the same time as you, but his conversation is oddly circulatory, muddled, like he can’t keep his thoughts straight. He mentions the same thing twice and doesn’t seem concerned when you politely remind him that he already told you. He also doesn’t seem to register your words when you tentatively broach the subject of Gaz’s sudden appearance.

Hadir shrugs, seemingly unconcerned. “Better for us anyway. Could be nice to have another warm body around here.”

“Don’t you…don’t you remember what I told you the other day?” you prod, pushing your potatoes around with your fork, your stomach in knots. “When I told you I saw someone outside?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s who I was talking about,” you whisper, as if concerned about being overheard. “I saw Gaz out there. He must have been out there…for days at least.”

“Ah,” he says, mildly contemplative. “Funny, that.”

The conversation feels like a dead end because it is, and you abandon it not long after when you realize that though Hadir is responding to your words, he doesn’t seem to be understanding them. It’s like you’re talking to an automaton, something designed to give you a response but not engage like a human would.

Even that thought seems wrong somehow. You shouldn’t be thinking those kinds of things about your coworkers.

Back in the medical unit, you pick up the stool that fell to the ground on your way out earlier and take a seat, sipping periodically at the ice cold coffee still sitting on the table. Your mind goes blank for some time. Different than earlier though—not the blankness of concern and paranoia, but the blankness of complete stupefaction.

It gives you some time to think, but no matter how many times you run through the events of the day in your mind, you keep coming back to the same questions. The same questions with no answers.

Appetite a no show, you figure it’s better to just retire to your quarters for the evening.

In bed, you read the same paragraph of your book three times before it sinks in. You can’t concentrate on anything. The same phrase on a loop, your real thoughts swarming like locusts and drowning out the narrator in your head.

A knock at your door startles you, accidentally making you crinkle a page of your book with your thumb. You bite back a curse, smoothing the page out and calling out a frustrated one second when the person on the other side of your door knocks again. Impatient much.

You open the door, expecting to find Graves or Nikolai on the other side, only for you to balk when you’re met with the sight of Gaz towering over you, his forearm braced against the doorframe.

“Hi,” he says after a beat of silence.

“…Are you lost?” you ask suspiciously.

“No. Thought I’d stop by before I turn in for the night.”

Something occurs to you the longer you stand so close to him. It’s been lingering in the back of your mind since the interior doors to the airlock slid open and he boarded the ship, a thought hidden under its own afterbirth, placenta and membranous fluid soaking the ground beneath it. A thought that, to this point, has escaped your notice, hiding away like a prey animal.

And it’s that: Gaz doesn’t have a smell. When you inhale, he doesn’t smell like anything you’ve ever smelt before. No lingering traces of body odour or sweat or soap. You breathe in and it’s like you’re standing in front of an empty doorway staring out into the empty hallway.

But he does have a scent.

It doesn’t register to your nose, not a scent that your olfactory senses can detect. Nothing like that. Instead it hits you like a memory, like a feeling blooming in your chest. Palo santo and orange blossom; the sound of a tennis ball hitting a racket; an aerial view of an Olympic pool and someone swimming laps, their body stark against the blue; white florals and a masculine voice laughing.

His scent is a delicious rush of wonder and elation, a dopamine spike. You crane your neck to meet his eyes and honestly you’d forgotten how beautiful he is. An Adonis; over six foot and body corded with muscle. Lean waist and wide shoulders. The most gorgeous man you’ve ever seen, sculpted from something divine, a substance not found on Earth but in a more heavenly realm.

You rock forward on your heels, pulled like a magnet towards his lips. His lips gently part, anticipating yours before they’ve even met.

Your hand hits the wall and reality comes back to you. Solid metal under your feet and an aluminum composite under your hand. White, sterile walls. In the hallway, the lights dim as the night cycle commences. You have to physically shake your head to rid your mind of any thoughts of Earth. It’s still there though, on the periphery of your senses; a dream world that you might get lost in if you were to look for too long.

Something is very wrong.

You rest back on your heels and move your hand until it hovers over the button to close your door.

“Unless you’re sick, I can’t help you.”

“I’m not sick, love.”

“Then what do you want?” you bite out, overtly hostile now.

He smiles but he doesn’t blink. Then his eyes flick up, studying the room behind you, his gaze roving over the walls and furniture, scrutinizing your space. Examining the clothes strewn over your bed, the little knick knacks and oddities that make your room yours.

“Just wanted to see what it looked like from the inside,” Gaz finally says, and your blood goes cold.

With that, he pulls his forearm off the doorframe and straightens to full height.

He makes it a few feet away from your door before turning around to look back at you. “Night, love. See you in the morning.”

#ceil writing #cod x reader #gaz x reader #gaz x you #kyle garrick x reader #kyle garrick x you #kyle gaz garrick x reader #kyle gaz garrick x you

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hahaifolded · 6 months ago

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141 x POC!GN Intelligence Operative - Nikolai (Long Drabble) Author's Notes: There was a poll past this picture. Don't scroll if you don't want spoilers. And also since I have y'all here, thank you for all of the support on this little series of mine! Warnings: MDNI, Sexual Themes, Angst

So, no, things were not fine.

Especially when the only person who gets an ounce of your kindness these days is Nikolai.

When the only person that is allowed in your office to “do work, because the rest of the place is too gloomy” is Nikolai.

When the only person who is allowed to ask you about your well-being and actually get an answer is Nikolai.

When all the 141 can do is watch.

Was this their punishment? To see you get closer with someone else right under their noses.

No, this was not their punishment.

Although you are constantly in their mind, Johnny, Kyle, John, and Ghost were hardly in yours these days. Maybe a few months ago, they were. Maybe when you saw a good piece of art, or smelled something really good, or touched something really soft, or heard a beautiful piece of music, you used to think of the boys. Maybe when you laid in bed at night and needed a quick release, you used to picture their bodies on top of yours to get you to that high point - maybe it was just one of them or all four at one time.

But, these days, they just exist how you exist in their minds: co-workers with no obligations to one another. Just a group of people who only need the other to get their job done and that's all. If that's what they wanted, that's what they get. If that's how they'll treat you, you'll treat them the same.

So you being friendly with Nikolai was just you matching his energy. He's friendly, so you are too. There was no ulterior motive here, because doing anything out of spite means you care and honestly you didn't care (that much) anymore.

All you cared now was your work and earning your ticket out of here.

But, to your dismay, it seemed like Nikolai had his own ulterior motives.

The last time Nik was here, which was around your second month with the 141, he noticed the way all of the guys looked at you. He knew that they liked you, probably before they did even. So now that he's back, he wanted to play matchmaker.

And honestly, this was the perfect scenario for the team. All 4 of them dating the same person. They were a unit, a package deal, a team. None of them were able to hold down a partner on their own... he's seen it with his own two eyes. But together, they would be unstoppable. And it seemed like you had more than enough love to give so honestly this was a win-win for everyone. But, things weren't exactly where he wished they were.

That's why when the current mission was over, Nik decides to take matters in his own hands.

After wrapping up on the final reports for the latest mission, Price calls for a celebratory bar trip. Nik is right behind the rest of the guys when he notices you falling behind.

"Aren't you coming?" he calls out. The 141 freezes while you look up like a deer caught in the headlights.

"No, I actually have--"

"Nonsense! We can't celebrate without you. Right Captain?" Nik looks at Price for support who only looks at the ground. Nik didn't take John to be the shy type. And not just John as everyone else looked at either the floor or the walls. Wow, this might be more work than he expected.

After begging for 20 minutes, Nik eventually wears you down. He would not take no for an answer.

But now as you sit with the 141 and Nikolai, you really wished you had told the Russian to fuck off. This was just painfully awkward. The only person that's talking is Nik and he just got up to get the next round of drinks. You would try to make small talk but they wouldn't even bother looking at you.

Thankfully, Nik comes back quick with 6 beers. After handing each guy a beer and taking one for himself, he slams the 6th one in front of you.

"We're here to celebrate, so drink with us!" he cheers as he tries to pull your soda from your hands.

You pull back and admit that you don't drink. The rest of the guys still at that.

Nik lets out a hearty laugh. "What do you mean you don't drink? The last time I was here I saw you down 5 tequila shots like they were water."

"Well, I stopped after... a bad night. I don't want to make the same mistake twice," you say before taking a sip out of your soda. Nik backs off and happily takes the beer for himself. The rest of the team just sit in silence. John and Ghost immediately down their drinks in an attempt to push down their guilt. Johnny starts to bounce his leg as he fights the urge to say something. And Kyle watches the condensation runs down his beer as his mind races.

A moment passes before Nik starts the conversation up again. He calls out your name and asks if you were interested in anyone on base. Everyone chokes on their drinks.

After catching your breath, you asks Nik why he would ask such a question.

"Oh c'mon, you're telling me that no one has caught your eye. Not even these big guys?" he quips while signaling at the 141. Their eyes widen at Nik's question. Wanting to know if you were interested in any of them, they finally look at you.

They wished they didn't, because your face twisted in utter disgust.

"Nikolai, I am here for one thing and one thing only and that's to do my job. I have no time nor desire to pursue anyone on this base and less this team," you got up from your seat and dropped some bills on the table.

"Wait, I didn't mean to offend or anything," Nik cries. He reaches for you. This is not where he thought this conversation would go.

"Of course, no one ever does. Everyone just talks and talks and assumes that I won't take it to heart. Well guess what, I'm done," you finish up your soda. "So I need you, and everyone else here, to get it together, because starting Monday, we are starting that joint mission and I refuse to look like a fool because you guys can't be professional" And with that, you leave the bar.

Nikolai is gasping for air. What the fuck happened? He looks at the rest of the team and is met with guilty faces.

What did they do?

Word Count: 1107

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#cod x poc!reader #cod angst #cod fanfic #cod x reader #tf 141 x reader #141 x reader #kyle gaz x reader #kyle garrick x reader #simon riley x reader #john price x reader #john mactavish x reader

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varesai · 4 months ago

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merry christmas!

featuring... tecchou suehiro, jouno saigiku, chuuya nakahara, nikolai gogol, kinich, wriothesley, lyney, kamisato ayato, kaedehara kazuha, boothill.

description... what do you guys do on christmas day??

authors note... MERRY FUCKING CHRISTMAS GUYS i wanted to write small little things about each of my favs from my three main fandoms lolllll! i hope all of ur guys christmas is going so well so far :)))) quite literally wrote this by alternating between hyaena by travis scott and tyler durden by madison beer so this might be all over the place

*i do take requests by the way!!!!! i'm just writing my own thoughts for now

warnings... none! some do lean towards fem!reader tho

🎧 all i want for christmas is you : mariah carey

tecchou suehiro

really, all the man wants to do is take the day to sleep and hangout with you.

there's some gift exchanging, you both picked out a few little things for each other that you passed over during breakfast. but then it was straight back to bed for both of you. all he wants to do is cuddle you all day. it's so cold out, and when does he ever get to have a day off????

you watch some christmas movies and make a nice dinner in the afternoon. he's mainly just watching, hanging out next to you (and accidentally getting in your way, but that's alright) because seriously, who would trust this man to cook.

to the both of you, it was a very relaxing day. staying inside, drinking tea and hot chocolate while snuggling up to each other. he just wishes he didn't have to get right back on his work schedule tomorrow...

jouno saigiku

he's so used to getting up early, that the day starts at 6:30 in the morning (if you're lucky).

like tecchou, he doesn't go full out with gifts. you've pretty much got everything you need, and he only heard you mention just a few things you've been looking at. so he got that for you.

you both exchanged gifts before you got out of bed. and when you did, you went out for a nice little breakfast and took a walk around the city. it was very pleasant; you got coffee and had walked to look at all the christmas displays (although he may not be able to see them, the most important part of it all was getting to spend his day with you).

dinner isn't very big at all. you were out all day, and you got a nice breakfast, so dinner was just what it could be any regular day.

the night was ended with cuddles to sleep! he's not one for physical intimacy, but sometimes, during times like these, it's nice.

chuuya nakahara

oh, what a lavish christmas you had.

the tree was piled with gifts. all for you. you insisted it was far too much, that what you'd bought him would never amount to this, but he waved it off, taking the gifts you got for him out of your hands and opening them with gratitude.

he made breakfast while you opened the rest of the gifts. a nice set of earrings, a new expensive handbag, you name it. you thanked him with a fat kiss on the lips before digging into breakfast.

it was a pretty chill day. he took you out for a very nice dinner later on, saying it was the "grand finale" to his gift giving. he was sure to order the most expensive red wine on the menu, letting you indulge in whatever you wanted (even though he never looks at the prices).

he ended it off by opening up a wine he treasured and sharing the bottle with you when you both got home. you were curled up on the couch under a fuzzy sherpa blanket, before eventually falling asleep on his shoulder.

nikolai gogol

an interesting christmas, to say the least...

he was so excited! he looked like a kid in a candy store, which made you laugh. he got you gifts that he absolutely knew you'd enjoy, making sure to compare them to things you tend to gravitate to and going from there.

he was also all the more grateful for what you got him, of course.

somehow, it was a more relaxing day. but he was extremely clingy.

when i say extremely, i mean extremely. if you needed to get up to grab something from the kitchen, or you were hungry, or whatever it may have been, he wouldn't let go of your waist, slowly walking with you to wherever it may be you needed to go (besides the bathroom. but he'd still put up a fuss about you leaving him in the "freezing cold").

it kinda stayed like that the whole day. you eventually had dinner, and that felt like the only separation you had from him (which, in the nicest way possible, felt like a breath of fresh air. but you could never be tired of him, right?)

you ended the night with a warm bath, sitting in his lap as he gently washed your hair. gentle was a huge contrast to who he is and what he'd usually do, but it's nice for a change every so often.

kinich

honestly, it felt like a regular day to kinich. he never really got a true christmas when he was younger, so he never viewed it as something he needed to celebrate.

that was until you came along.

all you both wanted to do was sleep in, but there's no way in teyvat ajaw was going to let you. he woke kinich first (because your his favorite human, and he's just there to annoy kinich) and demanded that kinich wake you up.

the day started with gift exchanging, as it usually goes during christmas. you gave your gifts to kinich and ajaw, and ajaw and kinich gave theirs to you. ajaw was seemingly very satisfied with the tiny little green scarf you knitted him.

you made a light breakfast before going into the inner city of natlan and joining in on the small christmas festival that was going on. you met up with mualani and kachina, and ajaw showed off his brand new scarf (a good way to keep him occupied from being a total bitch. you and kinich were very proud when mualani asked you what you changed).

it was like that up until dinner, where you stopped at a small little restraunt on the way home. kinich put ajaw in timeout, so you could have this moment together. the walk home was even more peaceful, and after getting home, it was straight to bed.

wriothesley

if i'm being honest, he probably forgot it was christmas...

he had gifts ready, but being down in the fortress almost every day screws up the sense of time, it seems. that was until you hurried up the stairs to his office, a few boxes in hand. he took the ones he had for you out from under his desk, and you opened the gifts while chatting over tea.

sigewinne came by to wish a merry christmas and handed you two little cards before heading back to work. they were the same cards, just different little messages on the inside (sigewinne is so sweet i love her so much i just had to include her...)

you both went up to the surface and took a walk around fontaine before heading off to have an early dinner. lyney and lynette were having a little christmas special magic show, so you bought tickets, and would see the show after dinner.

dinner was pleasant, and so was the walk to the opera epicles. you both found your seats and intently watched the show, performed by the one and only, lyney and lynette.

after the show was over, it was about time to head home. he normally would have stopped by the fortress once more, but chose not to because he just needed to have the rest of the night with you. there wasn't a single cloud in the sky, and though it was a little chilly, the night ended with a little bit of stargazing.

lyney

he's so excited!! christmas is his favorite holiday, mostly for the fact that it brings all of his family and friends together.

he couldn't wait for today, specifically because he put his blood sweat and tears in finding you the perfect gift. when i say perfect, i mean something that you've mentioned a bunch, while also resembling him in a way.

and when he saw your face after you opened it, full of shock and gratitude, he almost died of a heart attack.

you spent the day with him, lynette, and freminet. you and freminet were making the food for dinner while lyney and lynette were performing little magic gigs in the inner city. it gave you some time to bond with freminet, and he turned out to be quite the help in the kitchen!!

dinner between you four was very pleasant. there was idle chatter, along with some nice jazz music in the background. the food was all devoured with only a few leftovers, which you decided you'd reheat them for lunch tomorrow.

lynette and freminet went back home, leaving you and lyney to yourselves. you cuddled the night away, eventually falling asleep in each others arms.

kamisato ayato

the morning started by sleeping in. he really enjoyed that he was able to allow himself that joy for at least one day.

he didn't go crazy on gifts, just got a couple little things that may be small, but are very luxurious. bracelets, maybe a nice necklace, a hand-made kimono by the one and only chiori (although you wonder how he made that happen).

you both decided to have a slow morning. a little breakfast, then getting ready for the day. you both went into town, simply taking a little walk in order to pass time.

ah, but dinner was very luxurious. you had it with ayaka and thoma. the chefs had worked multiple hours, just for a bunch of food that may not even be eaten... but that's okay. there were so many options, and once you took your pick you sat down next to ayaka.

after dinner was over, you fell asleep almost instantly. you quite literally handed in your empty dish, bid ayaka and thoma a goodnight, and headed to shower. once you got out, you found ayato lying on his side. the night ended when you curled into his chest, shutting your eyes.

kaedehara kazuha

he started your day by waking you up with breakfast in bed, and a fresh cup of tea to go with it. after you finished eating, you both grabbed the presents you had for one another and exchanged gifts. he didn't splurge, he got you something that would be meaningful to you for the rest of your life. he's not one to attempt to buy your love.

you took a long walk. it was very refreshing - the harbor was bustling, and the breeze was cool and crisp, perfect sweater weather in your opinion. you took a break on a cliff, watching the waves, and eventually watching the first part of the sunset before walking back home.

dinner wasn't very big, making smaller portions that you both knew you could eat and going from there. he surprised you with a bottle of nice wine, and you drank that with the steak that was also served.

while cleaning the kitchen, there was christmas music playing in the background, and you both were dancing along a little bit. eventually, a song you both enjoyed came on, and you dropped everything and started to slow dance.

slow dancing ended up laying on top of one another on the couch, your head on his chest. and eventually, you closed your eyes. another successful christmas, you think to yourself.

boothill

this could go two ways. he could absolutely forget the holiday even existed and goes about it on a normal day, or he'd be super excited about it.

if it goes the first way, you'd just continue your day as if it was any normal day. you'd give him a small little gift though, and he'd immediately feel bad because he forgot. please reassure him that the gift isn't the thing that matters the most to you.

he'd take you out to a nice dinner, though. penaconys fanciest restraunt. he thinks it's the least he can do to make up for him being forgetful, and it worked. you completely forgot about the fact that he forgot the gift, and he eventually made it up to you by finding something really worth it and bringing it back to you.

if it went the second way, he'd probably wake you up pretty early to show you your present. you'd be scrambling to grab his and he'd be right up your ass until you saw everything he gave you (who can blame him? he's proud of himself).

he wants to spend all day with you. he also made sure to establish a while ago that there must be a tree. to really get into christmas spirit! you'd make a fire and watch some movies before he has you come with him to a nice dinner.

it's not the nicest place in penacony, but the food is certainly amazing. you chatter over your food, catching up with one another since he had just arrived from a pretty long mission.

the night ends with cuddles, cuddles, and even more cuddles! he hasn't seen you in a while, he's obviously gonna want to be all over you for the time he has with you. he falls asleep immediately, which leads you to slumber, as well.

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luvfy0dor · 11 months ago

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“Please Don't Cry ♡⁠˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚

Warnings; crying, Nikolais kinda an asshole

Description; The BSD men seeing you cry, whether it's their fault or not

A/n; hi guys :333 one more request until they're all finished!! It only took me 6 months to do what, 11? 12? I don't know, I'm really slow when it comes to reqs, so I'm sorry it took so long!! I've also decided not to change to a gray theme cuz I don't wanna feel like I'm copying anyone, maybe one day though!!

Osamu Dazai ★

• It's probably his fault in most cases, but for this scenario we'll assume it isn't. Your day has just progressively gotten worse, and you were at the point where any minor inconvenience or annoyance would set you off and make you cry.

ೃ⁀➷

You pushed open the door to your apartment that you shared with your boyfriend, bags in your hands ready to rip from the weight of the groceries inside. You huff and kick the door shut behind you, annoyed when it doesn't fully close and requires you to kick it one more time. You carry the bags to the kitchen counter and set them down rather aggressively, not minding the strength you put into roughly placing them on the surface while you turn to put them away and wait for your boyfriend to arrive home from work for once. You sigh with a hand on your hip and the other on your forehead, opening the fridge and observing your current minimal amount of food and get to stocking up. A few things make it into the fridge before you hear the door open again and your boyfriend call out to you. "Y/n? Home?" A hum erupts from your throat in response and he quickly makes his way to you, following the sound of your voice. "Hey, babe, how was your day?" He asks, grabbing a head of lettuce to hand to you. "Terrible, 'Samu, nothing tragic happened but like, all the little things, you know?" You say, shoving the head of lettuce into one of the bottom drawers of the refrigerator. He reaches over to grab the milk, but realized that the half-gallon wasn't completely full, and upon further investigation (lifting the jug up), he realized that the plastic had broken and milk was spilling out into the plastic bags, onto the counter, and down onto the floor.

"Oh, the milk broke." He says, taking a large, exaggerated step past you and over the milk to bring the half-gallon to the sink. You straighten your posture and stand up straight, head swiveling towards the counter with whiplash inducing speed. You felt your throat close up, making you unable to say anything in response. Before you knew it, your shoulders started shaking and your tears quickly followed that motion. You whimpered quietly into the palms of your hands which attracted Dazais attention again over the milk. "Aw, don't cry over spilled milk now!" He jokes, but when you give him an agitated glare and open your mouth to defend yourself, he switches up and pulls you in for a hug. "No, I was just joking, but it's okay! There's nothing to cry about, we can get more milk. Do you have any idea how it coulda happened?" He asks you, stroking your back. "M-might've put the bag down to roughly.." you say, sniffling and wiping your tears from your face. He gives a pitiful frown and kisses your cheek quickly.

"Well that just means you're too strong for your own good! Oo, see I knew there was a reason why I had to clarify I was joking, you could've broken my neck if I didn't." He playfully says, trying to cheer your up a little bit. You let out a shaky sigh and nod. "Yeah...I guess. We can go without milk for tonight, I'll get some more for tomorrow." You grab some paper towels from the roll on the counter and start cleaning up all the milk. He nods in agreement and pulls you into his body, pressing a kiss to your forehead and squeezing your shoulder. "Yeah, we'll live. We should get take out for dinner, I don't think either of us are really in the mood to cook." A little bit of weight is lifted off your shoulders, one less responsibility for tonight. "Okay, Chinese?" he nods and smiles. "Yeah. I'll call right now, you want your usual, right?" He asks, pulling his phone out of his pocket. You hum against his chest, ready to knock out and take a nap. His words blurred together as you felt yourself slipping into sleep, but with that you also felt great amounts of gratitude for your boyfriend for making you feel just a little better. Or maybe you just needed to cry a little, who knows.

Chuuya Nakahara ★

• Chuuya is no stranger to annoying co-workers and tiring missions, often wearing him down through the day, but sometimes he's unintentionally snappy. Don't worry, he's always quick to make it up to you.

ೃ⁀➷

Throughout the day, the texts between yourself and Chuuya had indicated that Chuuya was having a rather troublesome day, especially because of the frequent complaints followed by the facepalm emoji. You decided that you'd kick back with Chuuya and relax, opening a new bottle of one of his favorite wines and maybe giving him a back massage or something to relieve his stress. You eagerly awaited that familiar sound of his key in the door, and when you finally heard it, you stood up from your seat. In walked Chuuya, his appearance a little roughed up. He hung up his coat and hat without a word or glance to you, walking right passed you into the kitchen. 'That was kinda rude.' You thought to yourself, but you knew Chuuyas job was stressful and sometimes overwhelming, so you let him walk off on his own for a while. You knew where he was going and it didn't concern you, just to the balcony for a cigarette. You crossed your arms over you chest, hoping that he'd come back in a bit of a better mood. You turned on the TV and occupied yourself with that for a little bit before his familiar, light footsteps were heard coming back into the house. "Chuuya?" You called out to him. You could hear his loud sigh. "Yes?" His tone of voice was clearly agitated and disgruntled.

You were taken aback by how clear it was that he didn't want to talk to you right now, and you knew it wasn't personal, but you couldn't help but be saddened over it. "Are you alright-" you go to ask, but he quickly cuts you off. "Yes, I'm fine, y/n, just leave me alone. God..." His words were followed by the bedroom door closing. You were stunned. Your mouth hung agape for a moment before you had to close it to swallow the shock that closed your throat up. After prying your eyes away from the closed door, you averted your gaze to your feet, feeling tears well up in your eyes. You felt bad for crying, but what could you do? All you wanted was to make him feel a little better and he wouldn't even give you the chance to. He chose to take some alone time instead, which you didn't mind, but he didn't have to be so mean about it. You went into your hands, some of the tears falling through the cracks in your fingers and silently onto the floor. Your sobs became louder and audible to Chuuya, who laid face first on the bed. He felt a bit guilty too, he never once asked how your day was and for all he knew, your day could have been just as bad as his. He knew you only had good intentions, and he didn't need to shove you off like that.

He sighed and got out of bed, opening the door gently instead of swinging it open and walked into the living room again, frowning at the sight of you. "I'm sorry, doll, y'know I didn't mean it..." He whispered quietly, placing a hand on your shoulder. You turned your head to look into his eyes, seeing the apologetic expression that painted his face. "Yeah, I know, but you didn't have to be so mean about it." He sighed and pulled you into a hug. "Yeah, I know, that was a dumb move. I just wanted some alone time, ill be better about it next time though, I promise." He says, grabbing your hand and kissing your knuckles. "Wanna tell me 'bout your day?" He asks, looking over at you. "Thank you. It wasn't terrible, just bland and regular." You tell him, erupting a hum of understanding from him. "I can only assume you already know I had a rough day." He jokes, trying to lighten the mood. "I'm real sorry though." The smile from his laugh turns into a more neutral one, almost a faint frown. "It's fine, just don't let it happen again, I don't like it when you're annoying like that." You punch his shoulder playfully. He groans in response, laughing as he stands up. "I won't, promise." He says, tilting your head backwards to kiss your lips. "I do still want that alone time, though, so I'll see you in a little bit, alright?" You nod in understanding. "Alright." He walked back into the room, giving himself some time to do nothing more than exist. He didn't sleep and he didn't think, just existed. You stayed on the couch, waiting for him to return with open arms, happy to see him giving himself personal time instead of forcing himself to be around people, even if it was yourself. Everyone needs a break sometimes, and Chuuya was grateful that you understood.

Fyodor Dostoevsky ★

• Fyodor came home to you, and that was enough to make you sob your eyes out. Happy tears, ofcourse, but your days had been riddled with anxiety since he left. He knew you'd feel that way, and he was fully prepared to open his arms to you again with that faint smile.

ೃ⁀➷

You watched the helicopter land on the helipad with your heart pounding in your throat. Your fingers fiddled with the collar and fabric of your shirt as you waited for the propellers to come to a full halt and your lover to step off. Leaves, gravel, and dust alike all blew around your feet as the blades finally slowed and your boyfriend came into view. Your body tensed and almost started moving towards him on its own, but your anxiety stopped it, keeping you in your place. Your eyes scanned over his intact body and granted you a sense of relief when you saw no visible large injuries. He took notice of you and gave a small wave, walking towards you with a steady pace. You couldn't stop it anymore and all of a sudden you were moving towards him at an increasing speed. Before you knew it, your arms were once in their familiar spot around his torso and he was quietly chuckling. He ran one hand up and down your back and kissed your forehead. "Someone's excited." You nodded, feeling your tears falling down your face. It wasn't until he got a better look at your face that he noticed you were crying, and his smile widened. "You missed me that much, Myshka?" He says, tilting your head upwards to look at him.

"Obviously! You knew I would." You huff, sniffling and wiping your tears off of your cheeks, but they just kept on flowing. He laughs at you and pulls you back into the hug. "Well i'm home now, and you don't have to worry about me anymore. For now, atleast." Now he's already got you stressing over his next leave, but luckily you're able to push it away from your head in the moment and be grateful to breathe in his familiar scent again. You felt him place a hand on your head and exhale, his heartbeat being your favorite sound next to his voice. The feeling of his hands on your body was easily #1 in the category of touch, and his appearance was, to you, the very best sight. And his kisses, his lips, were by far the best taste. It had been so long until you felt his lips on yours, so you went for it again, cupping his face with your right hand and pulling him into you. He hummed and kissed you back, rubbing your hip with his thumb. When you pulled away, his face was pinker than before and his breathing unsteady. He swallowed before speaking. "Everytime I come back to you it's like adding gasoline to the bonfire that is my love for you." He says, looking into your eyes.

You couldn't help but find his words as silly as they were romantic and pulled him in for another brief peck. "You talk so formally all the time, it makes me giggle." You tell him, caressing his pale pink lips with your thumb. "It's better than the things I say that make you cry, yes?" He had a point. "Very true." He grabbed your hand and held it in his own while leading you away from the helicopter and to your car, more than ready to go home. "Your face is still wet from your tears." He whispers, wiping the remaining dampness from your cheeks with a smile. "Much better." You blushed and nodded. "Yeah, I'm glad you're finally back to wipe my tears for me." You tease. "Was a workout doing it all by my lonesome." He laughs at your remark and 'tsks'. "Well then maybe you should get more active or stop crying so much." He replies, a smug grin on his face. "Says you, the only arm movement I ever see you getting in is moving the mouse of a keyboard around." He shakes his head. "That's very untrue, you see me using my arms for other things rather frequently, actually." He insists. The sun shone down on his raven hair and gave him a halo-like highlight. How unfitting to the rest of the world, but sensible to you. "Fine, I guess so." You leaned your head on his shoulder as you continued to walk, finally liberated from the depression and anxiety that overcame you when he had left all that time ago.

Nikolai Gogol ★

• Nikolai doesn't mean to hurt your feelings with his teasing and jokes, but when you trip and fall face first into the pavement in front of a bunch of people and all he does is laugh with them, you can't help but cry out of embarrassment.

ೃ⁀➷

You walked along a sidewalk with your boyfriend, one hand holding his and the other holding a coffee. Your conversation was filled with mindless chatter as your stride stayed at a steady speed. Your eyes were flickering between him and the pavement in front of you as you were careful to watch where you were going. You saw the feet of many people walking passed you both, avoiding the states they were bound to give you and your clownish boyfriend. Something astonishing must have come out of Nikolais mouth at a point though, because you've never turned your head so fast to look at him and stare for long enough to not notice the tree roots that poked out of the ground far enough to trip you and land you right on your face with both coffee and dirt all over your shirt. All falls silent for a moment before you start hearing snickers and then the outrageously loud cackle of your boyfriend.

You pushed your body up off the ground, clearly embarrassed over the whole thing and shot a glare at Nikolai. "Really? You're just gonna stand there and laugh?" Your cheeks were hot and your heart heavy with both annoyance and fluster. "I'm sorry, dove, it was just so funny! That stains gonna take awhile to come out, though." He says, pointing out the big splatter of coffee on your light colored top. You can't help but scoff. "It was so funny that you couldn't even help me up?" He nods, exhaling audibly and wiping a tear of amusement from his eye. "But ofcourse! If I wasn't paralyzed by my laughter than I would have been the first to help you." He started walking back home along the paved path with you, going to grab your hand but furrowing his eyebrows when you snatch it away. He looks up to your face with an exasperated frown. "Oh, don't tell me that made you cry." You just sniffle and huff, letting your tears drip from your waterline. "Come on, don't be such a baby. It's just a material item, I can always get you a new one." He says, referring to the shirt. Your expression is one of confusion before you snap out of it and correct him. "It's not that, it's the fact that you just let me trip, fall, and spill coffee all over myself and let everyone laugh at me! You even laughed with them! That's so rude." You say, trying to cover the stain to no avail.

He blinks. "Oh. Well, I told you I would have if I wasn't laughing- I thought we were like that, we laugh when the other falls, you know?" He raises an eyebrow. "Okay, yeah, but not in front of other people." You say, chewing on the inside of your lip. "That was....oh my god, I'll never erase that from my memory." You say, still completely overtaken by embarrassment. He bites his cheek and grabs your hand before reaching over to wipe your tears from your cheeks. "I'm sorry." He tells you, leaning his head on yours. "It wasn't ever with ill intention, darling. We'll go home and I'll get you changed out of that ruined shirt and whatever it takes to make you smile again." He says, smiling and opening his portal to whisk the two of you away. Soon enough you were standing back in your living room with a new shirt already in hand. "See how quick that was? Can I take this off for you?" He asks, tugging at the hem of your ruined shirt. You sigh and speak. "I can take it off on my own, thank you very much." You roll your eyes and pull it off, but it's quickly replaced with the new one. He laughs for a moment at your discombobulated expression, but the noise quickly quiets. "I really am sorry, sweetcheeks." He says, leaning in to rub your noses together. You peck his lips and brush his hair from his face. "It's fine, but don't be doing nothin' like that again. That was so embarrassing." You say, averting your eyes. He hums. "Alright, as long as my dove forgives me!" He smiles and pulls you into a hug, happy with your decision to forgive him.

A/n; dawg I'm writing this in the tj Maxx bro forgive me if it sucks lol

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dutiful-wildcraft · 5 months ago

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I re-emerge with a soft and vaguely angsty Nik/Price/F!Reader

Unedited, 1k, enjoy <3

It's not unusual for Nikolai to look after her while Price is away. As a matter of fact it grew common, the burly Russian staying with her more often than not, even when John was home.

And what had originally been a friendly extension of John, extra security at her call, had evolved into another soft body in their bed, both men's mingled cologne sinking into her sheets as she slept tucked between them.

However, these last few days had been devoid of soft embraces and stolen kisses, but rather wretched coughing and sniffly noses.

Nikolai, has been sick as shit for days.

Thankfully, he'd been minding her with only a small amount of caterwauling. Huffing and puffing about her not sleeping beside him, whining as sickly boys are want to do.

His raspy voice somehow stupidly effective in getting him his way.

Can I have more blankets lisichka? he rumbles pitifully.

What will we have for lunch? he asks with big brown eyes.

As if he could keep anything more than cheese and crackers down.

Unable to sleep due to Nikolai’s chainsaw level congestion snores, she slinks down stairs in the wee hours of the morning. Having already decided to make her favorite comfort food. Something simple, savory and carb heavy for the pair of them.

On a whim she gives John a video call, setting it up on the counter while it rings and rings.

She hardly expects him to answer, he rarely does. And considering he'd already been gone 4 out of his supposed 6 week stint, she was sure her man was still up to his chest in work.

She's got a maw full of shredded cheese when John's voice rings through the receiver.

“Hello darling”

She sputters, recovering quickly to flash him a big goofy smile.

“Hey love” she whispers back, heart fit to burst as she takes him. There isn't much to see, just the pale light of his phone illuminating his features in the darkness. His beard is scruffy, bags under his eyes far too heavy for her liking.

“Hello” he repeats again, an infinite fondness in his voice. His sweet cheeks pulled up into that little smile that still makes her blush. She sheepishly brushes the remnant shredded cheese off her tits, tries to quickly adjust her hair.

She can see her own image reflected in the top corner of her screen, she looks like hammered hell honestly. Hair a mess, dark circles under her eyes, clad in ratty stained oversized shirt. She almost feels a little guilty for not looking more presentable for him when he chimes in again.

“Missed that sweet face.” he murmurs, and all those nagging thoughts plop right from her noggin. The goofy man would think she'd look hot in a trash bag.

“Missed your face too baby, you okay?” She knows better than to ask about the op, instead lets him pick and choose what he likes to talk about.

“Much better now, might even be home sooner than we thought.”

Her ears perk at that, spiritual tail wagging hopefully. She missed him dearly, occasionally shed tears in the lonely showers away from Nikolai, when the weight became to much for her to bare. She does her best not to say anything, doesn't want him to feel bad for being so far away. Instead she sends him updates, pictures of the animals, of her meals, this weeks favorite song.

He doesn't reply, she knows he can't, but he does read them, follows up with each one in a big text or call when he can. Somehow holding the details despite whatever hell he sees.

“What you makin’ over there?” he cuts in, trying to eye the counter with a raised brow through the screen.

“I was hankerin’ for some potato soup, thought the patient would like it too.” she chuckles a bit.

“Mmm, sweet thing aren't you? How is he?”

“He's only a little whiny, spends his day trying to coax me close enough to cough on me, claims he just wants a cuddle” she laughs.

John chuckles too, shaking his head with a fond exasperation.“Well, you gonna show me how to do it?”

“Huh? Right now? I was just calling…you can get your rest babe, I just wanted to hear your voice.”

“I'm far from tired with a pretty thing cookin for me, now go on.”

She flashes him a knowing look. John Price was no chef, he did well enough, but she'd caught him on more than one occasion following along to the little cooking videos he'd dug up on the internet. Especially those made by other soft southern women.

With an expectant look she continues her work, cutting vegetables and getting the stock pot ready.

“Talk to me love, need to hear your voice.” he reminds her.

Not want. Need. And who was she to deny him? So with a little fumbling she starts narrating, mimicking the smooth diction she'd often heard in those same videos, biting back a smile as she watches John fight sleep. Tired baby blues drooping lower and lower, closing briefly before the sharp snick of cut carrots stirs him again. Eyes straining to keep watch.

Sweet man.

She knows he's exhausted, more so than she can probably imagine. What hell he's had to dodge up until this point, and possibly a few days more until he can see them again.

Something in her chest stirs at how he stills for her, easily drawn into the soft bubble of comfort she can provide at such a distance. Lulled easily by a silly soup recipe, simply because it's her voice. She wonders now if he uses her voice messages similarly. She wonders if he would let her read him to sleep.

She files it away. Along with the thought of sending him softer voice messages for when he's away.

She looks to him again, bristly face squished against his pillow. Eyes closed serenely.

“Wanna know my secret?” she asks, soft and playful, watching one of his pretty blue eyes creak open at her tone.

“W'sat luv?”

“I use instant mashed potatoes to thicken up my soup, makes it extra potatoe-y” she giggles.

“My clever girl” he mumbles dreamily, followed by a string of more barely intelligible praise. It rolls easy and proud from his chest, voice no more than a sleepy purr that makes a grin split her face.

By the time she's finished up John is fully asleep, his measured breaths pouring through the receiver just shy of a real snore.

Her heart aches deep in her chest, a chunk of it long gone and far far away in the form of one John Price, and while she can see him now, know he's alive and relatively well, she longs more than anything to crawl in next to him. Hold him close tucked beneath her chin, where she can keep him warm and safe herself.

As if on cue, a pair of strong arms wrap around her middle, Nikolai’s hot cheek pressed to her temple where he briefly lays a kiss. This time she doesn't fight him.

Getting sick be damned.

“Pretty thing isn't he?” Nikolai rumbles quietly, eyeing the phone screen with those fond brown eyes.

She simply hums an affirmative in his arms, words caught in her throat by the emotion that's threatening to escape her.

Nik seems to catch on, giving her a soft squeeze. “How is he?” he whispers instead, voice low to not wake the man on the other side of the world.

The question is able to at least shake a little out of her. “He seems okay, worn out, fell asleep watching me cook.” She watches John for another moment before sucking in a deep sigh, squirming around in Niks arms to face him, tuck herself into his arms.

“I'm just ready for him to be home” she mumbles into the soft plush of his chest.

Nik pulls her in closer, warm hands petting along her back, squeezing the back of her neck soothingly. “Me too, malyshka” he returns, the weight of John's absence equally heavy in his own voice.

The pair stay there for some time, swaying gently in each other's embrace, listening to John's soft snores until the sun paints their meager kitchen gold.

#abrupt ending bc I cant end things for shit #nik is some kind of baby #price is too #price x reader #john price #nikolai cod #nikprice #nikolai x reader #call of duty #cod #captain john price #wildcraft writing

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angelsrcute · 7 months ago

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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟒 —

DAY 1: Leona x Fox!Reader; Jealousy sex + Scent kink.

DAY 2: Sub!Yukito x Criminal!Reader; Riding.

DAY 3: Sub!Barbatos x m!reader; Hatesex + Orgasm denial.

DAY 4: Boss!Char x Serious assistant!Reader; public sex.

DAY 5: Sub!Camboy!Cater; Feminization + Degradation.

DAY 6: Gojo + Geto; Threesome.

DAY 7: Malleus; Drunk sex.

DAY 8: Assassin!Toji; Sensory deprivation.

DAY 9: Blade; Femdom + Whip + Brat Taming.

DAY 10: Priest!Sunday; dub-con + Dacryphilia.

DAY 11: Sub!Idia; Cockwarming.

DAY 12: Aventurine; Strip poker + blindfold.

DAY 13: EnemyBoss!Gojo; Office sex + Humiliation.

DAY 14: Sub!Wolf!Jing yuan x M!bunny!Reader; Role reversal.

DAY 15: Capitano; Size difference + Lingerie.

DAY 16: Scara; Titfucking.

DAY 17: Zhongli; Somnophilia.

DAY 18: Sub!Angel!Dr. ratio x Demon!Reader; Corruption + Overstimulation.

DAY 19: Sub!Kinich; Tentacles + Monsterfucking.

DAY 20: Satan x Cat!Reader; Breeding kink + heat.

DAY 21: Pantalone x Slave!Reader; Power imbalance.

DAY 22: Painter!Chuuya x Muse!Reader; Against a wall.

DAY 23: Kaeya; Thigh riding + Dirty talk.

DAY 24: Diavolo; Almost getting caught.

DAY 25: Sub!Ranpo; Food play + Praise kink.

DAY 26: Geto; Cheating.

DAY 27: Ghostface!Nikolai; Dark themes.

DAY 28: Asmo; Pet play.

DAY 29: Beast!Dazai; Blackmail + knife play.

DAY 30: Lucifer; Body worship.

DAY 31: Vamp!Sylus x Succubus!Reader; Bondage + Spanking.

#ᡴꪫ‎#kinktober masterlist #genshin impact smut #genshin smut #jjk smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #twst smut #twisted wonderland smut #obey me smut #bsd smut #bungou stray dogs smut #jujitsu kaisen smut

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locketsvault · 1 year ago

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「 CUDDLING WITH BSD MEN PT 3/4 」

pairings: fyodor x reader ፥ nikolai x reader ፥ sigma x reader ፥ poe x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, no agab mentioned, first person, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: curse words, I’m sorry I had to curse the doa is cracked

other parts: ada ᨒ port mafia ᨒ doa + the guild ᨒ the hunting dogs

a/n: this is the most cracked part yet

// fyodor dostoevsky ⌇˚.༄

⮑ … you are crazy for cuddling him, truly.

⮑ Our dear master manipulator, how you trust him enough to let him that close I do not know how. What confuses me even more, how did you get him to trust you? Anyways— somehow you managed it, and it’s now time for some cuddle headcanons with Fyodor.

⮑ His lap is your throne. He spends pretty much all of his time in front of his monitors, so it’s not uncommon for one of the other doa members to walk in and find you curled up on it. As long as you don’t distract him, he will allow you to stay and do as you please. Sometimes he’ll wrap an arm around your waist.

⮑ He actually doesn’t mind pda, he doesn’t see you as a weakness to himself and trusts that you’ll be taken care of and safe, if not by him then by the others. I think having an arm or hand on your waist is common with him when you two are out. He will make it clear to anyone who stares at you too long that you’re his.

⮑ He’s big spoon always, he will never give up control even with something as small as cuddling. Honestly you’re lucky he will cuddle you at all. He’s not fond of touching much. Seriously the fact you touch him without knowing his ability, you’re absolutely insane. His cuddles I feel like are cold. Oh, and if you annoy him he will kick you off his lap.

⮑ 4/10, when he allows you in his lap and you behave you find that it’s actually quite nice. Good luck though.

// nikolai gogol ⌇˚.༄

⮑ I find you crazy for cuddling him as well but for a completely different reason.

⮑ With Fyodor you’re insane because he’s dangerous as hell, and yes Nikolai is too, but I find you crazy for cuddling him because he’s an unpredictable crazy clown. He is the definition of “never let them know your next move”. It’s never safe cuddling him. You never know when he will pull a prank—.

⮑ He will pull shit out of his cloak during cuddle sessions or pull you through. He will come up behind you, hug you, and suddenly you’re teleported to a pool full of rubber ducks. And that’s on the bright side.

⮑ All jokes aside, it scares me to say he’s actually good at cuddling. He’s very attentive, he knows how to read you. Like Dazai, his cuddles feel too secure at time. He knows when to be serious with cuddles, and when he can be unhinged. He’s pretty good at behaving according to what you can handle.

⮑ He’s very comfortable to cuddle, and he loves when you rest your head over his heart. He’s another big spoon for sure, another one who doesn’t like being out of control. Except for him it’s more that it just doesn’t feel comfortable or right. He also loves pda, and he loves messing with you in public. He could care less if people are staring.

⮑ 6/10, you better hope he’s more in an attentive mood than wanting to torment you.

// sigma ⌇˚.༄

⮑ He demands cuddles every second of every day. Give them to, him or else.

⮑ Our precious three year old. I promise you he has never been cuddled a day in his life. Like pretty much every aspect of your relationship, cuddles are a new thing that he has to learn. Once he learns though he adores it. It’s his main form of comfort. More often enough he comes home from work and collapses in your arms.

⮑ Due to how stressed out this poor boy is and how he pretty much never catches a break, he’s almost always the little spoon. It’s either a nervous breakdown or you hold him. How can you complain though he’s so precious. Plus he has pretty and soft hair to play with.

⮑ When he is the big spoon he always holds you in his arms protectively, terrified that if he lets go he will lose you. He often will place a hand over your head as he holds you. If you fall asleep in his arms he will sit there wondering how he got so lucky with you. He loves spooning you because again, you’re safe in his arms.

⮑ He loves when you visit him and sit in his lap, it makes working so much easier for him. He’s very shy with pda but if you love it he will do his best. He gets so flustered when people walk into his office and you’re in his arms, it’s actually so precious.

⮑ I could go on and on about him and his adventures of cuddling tbh.

⮑ 10/10, he’s so sweet and cute and does his absolute best for you.

// edgar allan poe ⌇˚.༄

⮑ Oh my gosh he’s so easy to fluster I can’t. And Karl?

⮑ No literally it takes nothing to make him flustered he’s so shy. 90% of the time you have to take charge when it comes to initiating physical contact. He second guesses himself and worries he might be too much. So he allows you to initiate it. Yet he panics every time. Crawl into his lap? Tomato.

⮑ Karl constantly crashes your cuddle sessions, which is probably a good thing or things might turn… nsfw. It’s actually quite cute though, Poe will be writing a book, you’ll sit in his lap, and Karl will sit in yours. Honestly you get just as much cuddles from the raccoon as you do your bf, something he gets jealous about lol.

⮑ Believe it or not he’s actually mostly big spoon. Similarly to Sigma, it comforts and reassures him to be big spoon. Though he genuinely doesn’t mind being little spoon, especially if you love being big spoon.

⮑ Your most common cuddle position, besides sitting in his lap when he writes, is either you holding him while he writes, or facing each other in bed holding each other. It’s easy to talk to each other softly and give gentle kisses.

⮑ 9/10, sometimes having to constantly initiate it can get a bit frustrating.

main hub ✦ masterlist ✦ to do list

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deonsx · 1 year ago

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Teacher/Student Relationship With Bsd Men

Feat: Dazai, Chuuya, Fyodor, Nikolai, Kunikida, Ranpo

Content: Smut, Fem!Reader, Fluff, Nsfw, Rude Talk

Not:You've both been of age for a long time

Dazai Osamu

• He's definitely a philosophy teacher and likes to fill people's minds with his theories

• You were the one who took the first step in your relationship, he rejected you the first time but you didn't give up that easily, you flirted a lot to get him and finally he agreed to be with you but of course he didn't want anyone to know about it, that's how your secret love started

• He wasn't one to hide it during classes. He would approach your desk and constantly ask you questions "S/o what do you think about this?" It was really difficult to teach the lesson with him

• This brunette definitely has a classroom fantasy..he calls you to his classroom after school is over..he likes to fuck you on his desk while the light is shining on you while the surroundings are orange with the setting sun

• Students are suspicious of his relationship with you, because even though Dazai has a secret love life, he is constantly watching you in class and does not forget to wink from time to time

• No, copying is forbidden, even if you are his lover, any copying will translate into extra fantasy punishments for him to fuck you at night "You need to know that no exceptions will be made for you" he just thought about the punishments he will give you at night as he took the cheat sheet and left

• He is definitely a man who loves making love. You heard from the gossip in the class that he had many girlfriends in the past, so he is very experienced, he likes a slow and sensual sex, and you had your first love 8 months after you became lovers, you forced him.. he was waiting for you

"Nghhh~!!" You wrapped your hands in the sheets as he pushed his full hardness into you. "Why did you cheat, dear?" He spoke with his tongue while leaving a wet line on your chest, all the way to your belly button. As he continued his hard thrusts, your surroundings were now completely blurry for you. How did you get to this point, how many times did you cum now? 5? 6? You don't remember, "You look really beautiful, you like me fucking you, right..?" "osamu--!!!" you screamed as he gave you quick strokes on your sweet part. The knot in your stomach quickly broke and a new one was added to the ejaculations you can't count

“I don't want anything like this in my lesson again, my love, is that understood?”

Chuuya Nakahara

• In my opinion, he would be either a German language instructor or a mathematics teacher

• He is definitely a very disciplined teacher and when you first confessed your feelings to him, he punished you and with that confession, he made the exams difficult for you and did not show even the slightest tolerance

• The first day your relationship with him, that is, the cold wall he built against you, started to melt was the day he got sick and neglected to come to school. You ran away from school that day and went to your teacher's house. He was angry when he saw you, but he couldn't say anything because he almost fainted

• You babysat him the day he was sick and made the ice in his heart melt. After that day, everything seemed to be a little more rosy for you. Chuuya avoided you mostly outside of class, but after weeks, he accepted his feelings, even though it was undisciplined and inappropriate for him, he avoided running away every time was bored

• he is really watching you all the time whether he is in class or not he stays near your class and watches the boys who talk to you (Those boys will fail his class) he is very jealous and may even give them a punishment

• Now let's get to the main point, how about sex? Do you have fantasies? How long after did he accept it? He's definitely the best at his job. He's committed to pleasing you. He doesn't have any perverted fantasies, but he won't say no to fucking you in the classroom. You had your first love 1 year after your relationship started and you definitely felt like you were in heaven that night

"Tell me, my love..." you barely heard his words as my legs were shaking. He had you sit on his dick and was making you solve math problems on the table in front of you.. "I-I don't know chuuya~!" Your brain became more fuzzy with every second as he thrust into you "Nghhh~~!!!" Chuuya slowly wrapped your hair from your wet skin to his hands. "My love, this is not the answer." You tried to get up while your legs were shaking, but when Chuuya's hand quickly pulled you back, a harsh moaning sound was heard

"If you continue like this, you will make me fuck you until the morning”

Fyodor Dostoyevski

• he is a physics teacher and teaches a lesson like death

• Everyone is trying not to fall asleep in his class. He is a very strict teacher and is the type of person who always takes a student to the blackboard. He keeps giving advice because he is an extremely religious teacher

• Now, if we look at it from a serious perspective, he definitely does not talk to his students outside of class, although the reason is not known, as if it were a rule for him and no student goes beyond this rule

• You didn't confess your feelings for him! (THIS IS A FIRST!) because you were really afraid of his reaction, instead of confessing to him, you constantly prepared meals in containers and gave them to him anonymously, and every morning there was a brand new note on his food: "You are very serious today, Mr. Dostoyevsky" "I hope you will notice my admiration and passion for you” "I can't stop thinking about you" or more spicy notes. It took months for these notes to flow, and although Fyodor hated it at first, months later he was waiting for those notes with a grin on his face every time

• He finally found you, but of course he wanted to see the person who wrote him these notes for months. He knew you were a student, but you didn't expect him to find you, and even though you denied his allegations against you, he knew everything from the beginning, he just laughed and you saw him smile for the first time, making your face turn red "All those notes were sweet"

• He definitely plays a sadistic role in sex and has many fantasies he only sees fit to make you suffer if it gives you pleasure and of course there is a safe word between you two that he stops when you tell him "Are you okay darling...did it hurt that much?"

• Yes, he is the one who thinks about having a secret relationship and sometimes acts like you don't exist in class. When you said you were upset about it, he never did that again

"ahhhh~!!" You were in the teachers' lounge, school had already closed and you couldn't hold back a moan as Fyodor continued to slam into you "You want to be known by others, slut" he grinned as he continued to thrust hard into you and hit your sweet spot "You want everyone to see and watch us like this, right..you are so naughty" his long white fingers He grabbed your waist hard and continued whispering to you with sweat running down his forehead

“The school is ours all night long. You can moan as much as you want, dear”

Nikolai Gogol

• He is a biology teacher and he doesn't even care about his lesson. He usually dozes off in class and doesn't care even if the students complain

• he sleeps all the time. Usually, his classes are the last classes of the day, so after he falls asleep, no one knows when he wakes up. One day you rejected the invitation of your friends and when school ended, you stayed in the classroom, covered his with your shawl, left a kiss on his white hair and left him there that day

• The next day, Nikolai must have found out who that shawl belonged to, because he called a student to his office for the first time, all the students said that someone had made him angry, because otherwise, why would Nikolai do something he has never done and care about his job? Yes, he found you and you saw him more serious than ever that day, but instead of saying anything harsh to you, he just thanked you

• From that day on, Nikolai never slacked off, he taught in a straight and disciplined manner. Even though the whole school was shocked by this situation, no one, including you, understood what changed him... But you were happy that you could listen to his conversations now. Weeks later, he started talking to his students

• you were always watching him in classes and after a while, it was like a bond formed between you, like an invisible rope... and he was the first one to confess after months. Your flirtation probably lasted more than 2 years, but eventually your relationship started

• Oh boy, he's a beast in bed, he's gone beyond his laziness limit, you've never seen that laziness again, he likes to film everything that happens with you so he can use it later if he needs it at school, he's got a fast and serious speed

"Smile my love~!!!" While he fucked you from behind, he tangled his hand in your hair and asked you to look at the camera "Nikolai~!! stop it this is too much...~!!!" nikolai moaned as the rapid thrusts continued their course "Fuck! You're so tight darling~~" you weren't even sure how many photos and videos you took with the camera, your mind was so blurry and you were on the point of fainting

"The night is just starting, my love, I love watching you"

Kunikida Doppo

• We already know that he is a mathematics teacher! And one of the very strict ones!

• He's the toughest on this list...because he's actually a gentleman with 58 ideals and a math teacher, and you're a student so you can't meet most of his ideals

• It's impossible to talk to him. He doesn't listen to the students unless there is a "math question" and walks away. In the eyes of the students, he is a rude and self-aware person. It was obvious that you couldn't talk to him normally, so you took the hardest option, Private lessons

• Now you don't think that this guy gives private lessons in a completely random way? He has criteria for students and yes, you spent months to meet them and just to take these private lessons and you got that chance again, he still has a long way to go before you, even if you try to flirt with him during lessons, he is definitely a heavy disciplinarian and quickly gets off topic

• You confessed to him after 2-3 months and of course it wouldn't be easy, he threw away all his lessons with you..and now your job had become twice as difficult, but since you thought his ideal woman would be an intelligent woman, you focused on your lessons and gained as much knowledge as him, of course it did not go unnoticed by him and finally started talking to you again

• He gave you a chance and you went to the movie night. After that chance, you went on more dates and eventually you started a relationship and yes, of course, your relationship was secret, it was unthinkable otherwise

• How is it at night? He is definitely a trick when it comes to romance that will attract your woman in the best way. He has learned fantasies just for you (maybe he wants to see you in different positions:0)

You were tied to your bed with your hands handcuffed. Kunikida was trying out a fantasy he was curious about on you again "Do you feel nice, my love?" He had the decency to ask you as he slowly moved in and out of you and he nodded. You bit your lip to moan as your hair clung to your face. "I want to hear your Ssshhh voice" As he slowly accelerated, his wrists started to hurt and it would probably leave scars tomorrow

"Fucking you like this... makes me feel so good"

Ranpo Edogawa

• He is a mathematician and he is definitely the best at his job. No one at school recognizes him as a teacher. He is known as the genius teacher of the school and has enough knowledge to teach all other subjects

• Yes, the fact that he is smart does not eliminate his most important feature of laziness, he is a complete sleepwalker, but he rarely skips classes just

�� He is a teacher who is comfortable enough to give you the answers to your grades in exchange for bribes, that is, things like snacks, and he is the most comfortable among them

• If his heart is running on junk food, then you will bribe him every day for the opportunity to talk to him, but of course you will do it without making it look like that

• You started bringing him small snacks every day, each time saying "Ranpo-san!!! Look what I got you?" "Special candy day!!" "I bought it from your favorites" he continued like this every day, even though he always made sure you passed your classes, what you wanted was much more than grades

• Although it wasn't easy for him to give you a chance, it didn't take him long to ask the girl who did so much for him and that's how you started dating, of course it was a secret relationship again. After spending months with you, Ranpo rented a house with you and now you started staying with him

• You make love every night..he is very lazy but how can he miss it when such a beautiful woman attracts him..slow and sweet sex will satisfy his pleasure

"F-fuck my love, keep going~~" while you were jumping on his swollen dick, he was breathing his hot breath into the cold room. His face was red and his eyes were narrowed. "Nghh~ You like this, right, Ranpo? You can beg, my dear" Ranpo laughed hoarsely, although not very loudly, at what he said and his cold hands held your hips

"I'm punishing you to bounce on my dick all night long my love, thank you for this pleasure"

Enjoy!

Tags!!~~

@lunaaka @zbriia @hiddensideofmoon @cupidszvlvr @skelitea @cocodrilofeliz @n1chxyaaenthusiast @muichiroismylove @camillesartbook @eggcoreloser @mizuxii

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bastardratofsin · 2 months ago

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ice cream. you cream. uh. we cream?

#nikolai gogol #bsd nikolai #bungou stray dogs nikolai #bungou stray dogs #bsd #bungou gay dogs #bastard clown of sin day 53 #ngl yall. idk why. but i kinda dig this one #literally done in like. 6 mins but

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19burstraat · 1 year ago

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ketterdam dashboard simulator

goedmedbridge420

who up boeking they canal

10,345 notes

drydens follow

I can't believe some of you log on here and thirstpost about barrel vagrants. it makes me so sick. these men are the very pits of society and have never honoured ghezen a day in their lives. there are so many other young men who make their living in a reverent way. have some dignity.

#ghezen #inghezenssight #ghezenhonouring #churchofghezen #handofghezen

2 notes

kooperomno1fan

lionsroar12 follow

omg HOW is kaz brekker winning this he's SO problematic he's not even good for the economy he killed members of his own gang and kidnapped councilman van eck's son

dregsundrained

cranky coz your gang fell apart aren't you

17,860 notes

oskervoexchange follow

guys is this a mandela effect or what bc I SWEAR this painting used to be in the university district art museum, I literally saw it this week??? but I went today and it was GONE?????? there wasn't even a plaque?? guys pls I'm so confused why is everyone acting like this is normal for ketterdam? do priceless antiques just VANISH? am I being gaslit?

450 notes

stadhall-clerking

guys I'm so sorry I've been MIA :( I found out that my landlord was using my rent on the staves rather than fixing my black mould problem so I pushed him out the window and told the stadwatch he must have fallen and died because he wasn't honouring ghezen and got away with it. anyway I think maybe the black mould explains the dirtyhands/sturmhond fic I was writing sorry :( but I WILL finish my fairy queen of istamere meta post once I've moved into my new lodging

670 notes

dregsconfessions follow

SUBMISSION: sometimes I lie awake thinking about the time I fell down an entire flight of stairs at the slat when kaz was at the bottom, and he just stared at me (still lying on the floor), and then asked if I'd changed the beer kegs at the silver six yet. GIRL NO?!?!?!

#submission #dregs #dirtyhands #admin comment: laughed so loud my upstairs neighbour threatened to shoot me

546 notes

dregsconfessions follow

ADMIN NOTE: if the razorgulls don't fucking stop sending anon hate to this blog we'll tell dirtyhands n he'll send you your own IP address back

#see what happens you hack job seagulls

500 notes

kerchtourismboard

it's us, the real kerch tourism board, here to tell you what we're putting in the new summer season pamphlet. we got 1) three pages all about kaz brekker that end up being more of an advertisement than a deterrent 2) list of slipperiest spots in the barrel where you will fall over and get a concussion when ur drunk 3) top 10 ways to get your wallet stolen by a child in broad daylight 4) paintings of the komedie brute 5) advert for sten's stockpot 6) map of public toilets

570 notes

kerchtourismboardreal follow

we are not affiliated with any degenerate impersonator accounts who claim to be us. we are the only real kerch tourism account.

23 notes

kerchtourismboard-real follow

grafcanal smells like piss and you should bite everyone you see wearing the mister crimson costume

450 notes

stensstockpot follow

it's all 'fuck sten's stockpot' and 'I got food poisoning from the special at sten's stockpot' until you realise you don't have the money for cilla's fry, and then you come CRAWLING back to the loving arms of sten's stockpot and our special. you fucking traitors. you'll be back! you'll all be back

canaljumpings follow

what's in the special sten's stockpot

stensstockpot follow

it's a surprise ;)

bertskerch follow

nah I thought this was the real stens lmao

stensstockpot follow

bert smit you still have 45 kruge to pay on your tab and if you don't cough up we'll send our debtors to break your legs

230 notes

exchangingbabey follow

my grisha girlfriend who still wears a kefta and says things like 'nikolai lantsov is a bastard': ugh they're still debating whether or not the council of tides should be able to control kerch shipping, I hate inter-country politics

me: I think I hauve the queen's lady

4500 notes

(insp) (insp)

#I wasted a full hour making this #six of crows #crooked kingdom #soc duology #kaz brekker #ketterdam #soc #grishaverse #shadow and bone #my post #dashboard simulator

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quarterlifekitty · 4 months ago

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Weaknesses part 6: birthday present

cw: this one is nasty lol

Gaz wants to make home movies :) special lingerie for the occasion, a really nice camcorder you had no idea he had, a tripod he borrowed from someone who definitely doesn’t know what he’s using it for. And he wants to have you in literally every position you’ll let him get you in. One day, Gaz is going to get drunk and let slip that the video exists, and Soap is going to beg to see it, just so you know.

Ive mentioned what Soap wants for his birthday a couple of times, but I’ll say the more tame of my ideas again: no deodorant and he wants you to work out. Literally get as sweaty as you can with as much of your musk in your underwear as possible. Nothing to hide your natural scent. He wants to bury his face in your panties and your pits while her jerks himself off, then he’s gonna shoves his face in your cunt and spend a few hours down there.

Simon wants you to go somewhere with him wearing a skirt, and going commando. Some mid-thigh length number that he can easily slip his way under wherever you are, whenever he feels like it. Don’t worry, he’ll help you hold it down when a breeze comes by.

Price wants you collared. Who says just cause it’s his birthday, he should be the only one getting a gift? Don’t worry— he won’t have you leashed when you go out for his birthday dinner— just when you get home. Well, maybe in the car. But when you’re out, he keeps a grip on the back of the collar to lead you around, as casually as he puts his hand on the small of your back usually. And you KNOW the first thing that gonna happen when you get home is you getting on your knees, the leash wrapped in his fist while he pulls your mouth farther down his cock.

König wants heat roleplay. There, I said it. He already calls you maus, now he wants to see you wet and needy and desperate for him like a mammal in heat. Is he going to ask you to wear ears and a tail? No. Is he going to get so hard he almost passes out if you do? Yes. He loves the idea of you needing him and only him to be satisfied— that there’s a fire inside you that only he can quench. And to do so, he’s gonna have to fuck you raw until you’re dripping with him, bred the way you need to be.

Nikolai wants costumes and roleplay. I’ve said it before, I’ll say it again. Teacher and schoolgirl, pilot and stewardess, slasher and camp counselor, knight and princess, evil advisor and princess (and yes, he gets you a different princess dress than the one from last year), he comes up with a new one every year. Once he even managed to get what quite honestly looked like authentic uniforms from world war 2, one Russian infantry and one nurse’s uniform.

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boolger · 1 month ago

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Purge your thoughts of the life you knew before 🌻 ch.1

Female reader x Nikolai x Price ✨ AO3 link ✨ next chapter -> wc: 7.7k - call of duty - explicit, MDNI. Read the tags. Dead dove don’t eat.

Summary: Your hometown, Millhaven, had been under the control of The Shadows, a notorious biker gang, for several years. You hated every member of the group, but in particular their leader, Phillip Graves. The alpha refused to leave you alone, having attempted to seduce you for two years despite two years of rejection. But in the matter of one night, everything changed. The Shadows disappeared, replaced by a biker gang calling themselves Team 141. The town seemed relieved, but you didn’t trust the new group, despite every good thing they did. Perhaps, it was your sign to leave - your opportunity to move without bad conscience. But the 141 suddenly showed a strong interest in the house you inherited from your father. Even worse though, the leader John Price and his mate, Nikolai, seemed to like you even more. While the Shadows were annoying and Graves was persistent, he at least accepted your no. Somewhat. Problem was, it didn’t seem like the 141 took no for an answer.

Tags: non-consensual elements/rape, bikers AU, biker gang 141, omegaverse, dub-con, non-con touching, harassment, stalking, reader has a vagina, M/M/F threesome, threats, reader has a nickname, loss of parent, original characters, pack dynamics, alpha!John Price, Alpha!Nikolai, omega!reader, forced bonding, loss of virginity, breeding kink, piss kink, scent marking, daddy kink, stun guns, smut, rough sex, knotting, (maybe pregnancy), voyeurism, punishments, noncon spanking, p in v sex, anal sex, overstimulation, claiming barks, uh short appearance of a chopped off body part (action not described but the part will appear shortly)

Authors note: first of all, TY to sweet 💖 @venuskaltrip 💖for being my beta reader on this fic 🥰❤️ I cannot describe how much I appreciate it. Secondly, idk how long this fic will be yet maybe 6 chapters but they won’t all be this long lol. This will be a dark fic. I will write if there is something specific, but Nikolai and John are nasty in this one. If you’re not into this or feel uncomfortable, don’t read.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

“Hey there, pretty girl.”

You rolled your eyes so hard it almost hurt, and had to physically keep yourself from not groaning at the voice. If your eyes got stuck, like your father used to say, then you wouldn’t have to look at the man behind you at least. However, today wasn’t the day, so you were still able to see him as you turned around and put on a polite smile. For at least two years, the small cafe that you worked in and loved deeply, hadn’t been a safe space for you. He had ruined that.

”Mr. Graves,” you greeted the man standing on the other side of the counter, continuing to dry off the teacup in your hand, “how may I help you?”

”Phillip, my pumpkin,” you could feel the hatred in each bone in your body, as he corrected you, “Told ya’ not to call Mr. Graves. That was my father.”

Oh, how you wanted to throw the teacup in his face. Watch it hopefully shatter in his skin. The man would have deserved it. He was one of those alphas who never wore any kind of scent blocker, proud to stink up whatever room he walked into, to show their “dominance” over everyone else. Right now he was stinking slightly of lust, almost making you want to gag.

Somehow you still managed to keep your smile and not roll your eyes again over his words. Throughout your countless interactions with him, you had learned the hard way that you had to push back and not give up when it came to him. Your father would have reminded you to show him that you’re an alpha as well. Which you were, at least to Graves.

But he called you Pumpkin, sweetie pie, all kinds of awful pet names that he knew you didn’t like - so you stood your ground.

”What can I get for you, Mr. Graves?”

He pouted, like a dog not getting a treat, as he bent forward, resting both of his hands on the counter, making you try your best to ignore the leather gloves he wore. Specifically, where they had been. They looked dirty. You didn’t want them on the counter. There would no doubt be oil on them from messing around with his ugly bike outside. Perhaps, Mary would let you put up a sign about not touching the counter while wearing gloves. Then again, it was a very specific sign. Graves probably wouldn’t like - or follow it, for that matter.

“You’re a tough nut to crack, sweetie,” he crooned all charmingly, leaning forward while you leaned backwards, not even trying to be subtle, as he continued, “I’ve enjoyed it these last two years.”

The ‘but no more’ was left unsaid. A threat, disguised as a compliment. You just swallowed, smiling at him. Though if you were being honest, you weren’t really sure if he was threatening you, or attempting to flirt.

Mary was in the back, she would hear you if you screamed, in case he decided to snap and jump across the counter today. You were on the edge of growling, warning the alpha to back off, when the front door opened.

The soft chimes of the bells alerted of your saviors entering the little cafe - two of your regulars, two elderly women that came in every day at 9AM exactly. Your unsung heroes.

”Goodmorning dear,” the beta called out for you, the elderly omega next to her giving a wave, and the smile you sent them as you greeted them was genuine. They always wore blockers, but smelled of cookies and weed nonetheless. You were quite a fan of pair.

”I’ll be there in a moment, ladies,” you called out sweetly as they took off their coats. They weren’t even discreet in their staring at Phillip Graves. As if the man and his gang of idiots hadn’t been in the town for the last seven years or so. As if the sight of the logos on their backs was still a surprise and not an everyday occurrence to everyone. Then again, they were old. Graves looked over his shoulder, no doubt sending them a nasty stare, before he looked back at you again.

For a moment, you felt as if he stared at you like a beast would a piece of meat, as if he wanted to devour you raw. That had been how he had looked at you for the last two years or so, not even hiding how he wanted you, a strong alpha woman, to bend over for him. Follow him like a good little puppy.

The scar you had given him the last time he had attempted something was healed by now, but still visible, particularly in the right light. The sight still pleased you.

Graves behaved like a desperate dog, who continuously returned to you, hoping for a moment to successfully catch you off guard and rip you apart.

“An americano, then,” he finally crooned, a charming smile back on his face as he straightened up, the leather creaking a little, “with an extra espresso shot.”

You added a bit too much espresso - hoping the strong drink would make him shit himself while he drove his motorbike. Preferably while all his ‘Shadows’ were watching him.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

The Shadows had appeared when you had been around 15 years old; back when it had seemed to rain a little less than now, back when your father was alive. Right after the two of you had found a bit of happiness after the death of your mother a couple of years earlier. Back when you hadn’t presented yet, your secondary gender still a mystery.

You had quickly learned to avoid them, all of the kids in your small British village had, keeping your distance despite the cool matching logos on their vests and jackets, and their shiny, loud motorbikes.

Why the hell an American biker gang had decided to go to the UK, and then chosen your bloody village, was beyond your comprehension. They all seemed like idiots. You had realised that as a teenager.

It seemed most of the inhabitants of Millhaven had hoped they would leave after a year or two. Instead they became more and more intertwined with the town as the years passed, creating chaos and controlling a bunch of things - and people.

The local, lowly drug dealers, who maybe sold a bit of weed or some painkillers, either disappeared or changed tactics. At the same time, it seemed impossible to have a shop, or any kind of business really and not pay them some sort of fee.

For “security”.

To you it seemed like it was the Shadows themselves who were creating malaise and fear in Millhaven, not any locals or people from other towns. The mere name The Shadows didn’t really scream safety and peace.

A couple of the bikers ended up creating a pack with some locals from town, others didn’t. In truth, without being said out loud, everyone had hoped for Phillip Graves to get bored of Millhaven and decide to move on to another town. Then the streets wouldn’t be filled with the roars of their bikes or their ace of spades or whatever their logo was supposed to be.

However, to much of the disappointment of the folks of Millhaven, Graves did find something interesting - or rather somebody.

Much to your horror, it turned out to be you.

It had started a couple of months after you had turned twenty; he had started to look at you, no, stare, like it was the first time he really saw you. Noticed you. He started flirting with you almost instantly after that - and though you turned him down straight from the beginning without hesitation, he kept going. You had barely turned twenty, he was in his thirties.

The owner of the cafe you worked at, sweet Mary, had muttered not too long after his first show of interest that he was a nasty man - but that he at least hadn’t noticed you when you were a kid. You tried not to think about that part too much.

Six months into his attempt at courting you, he had cornered you outside the pub; a confident smile on his lips and a dark look in his eyes, as he had caged you in, hands on each side of your head. That was the evening you had given him the scar on his cheek - usually you only used your pocket knife to open up letters or packages, so you weren’t a great fighter. But the blade had connected with his skin; there had been blood, a grunt - and you had escaped his attempt at kissing you… or worse.

You had bolted into the pub again in pure panic, steering directly to the back, with the plan of disappearing out into the dark fields — but Lewis, the owner, had helped you hide in the little secret cellar beneath the wooden floors, surrounded by beer and wine. You had slept in one of the upstairs rooms of the pub that night, Lewis and his wife not letting you go home.

You had been sure Graves would take revenge, so you laid low for a couple of days, Mary demanding you stay at home.

It turned out to be much worse, however.

If he had been interested in you before, he was in love with you after the incident. That had been when you, despite your unending love for Millhaven, had considered moving away for the first time.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Money was the issue - wasn’t it always? You kept saving every pound you could, while still trying to live a normal life. Your dad hadn’t left you much besides the house and its contents. It was big, too big for you really. Half of it had been a garage for as long as you could remember, your father the town’s mechanic. You used to help him here and there, but car engines were never your thing - they never spoke to you like they spoke to him.

When he got worse, he sold off most of the things to pay for the last of the mortgage, so you wouldn’t have to worry about it.

You begged him not to get rid of his favorite vintage car - promising him that you would get it fixed up and take a drive in it, even if both of you knew that probably wouldn’t happen. So far, it hadn’t happened, you had taken a look or two, but not done anything about it.

No, the grey Aston Martin DB4 still stood in the back of the big garage and workshop, beneath its cover and some blankets. Like a ghoul from the past, haunting you in your own home, with memories of him. Thus, moving would mean having to deal with your dad’s car, so the mere idea felt like pulling out teeth. Like you would finally have to accept and deal with the fact that he was dead.

However, the idea of Graves’ patience slipping up, growing tired of waiting for consent from you, scared you too. Maybe more. You weren’t sure.

If he wasn’t there, if he and his Shadows hadn’t been controlling Millhaven, you might have stayed without too many issues. Despite only being twentytwo, you had a big house and no debt. It was a privilege in all other aspects. You could get an education, move to a bigger city, where you could blend into the crowd. Maybe not hide your true self.

“You okay, Sunflower?”

Mary, your lovely beta boss, asked you gently, pulling you from your thoughts, making you smile as she turned the little sign at the glass front door, to show that the place was closed for today.

Your nickname was just your name at this point. It had followed you for so many years that you weren’t sure you would even react to your actual name. As a kid, you had been obsessed with sunflowers - they were on your dresses, your shirts, your tights. Hell, your dad got you a necklace with a small sunflower on it that still rested against your skin beneath your shirt.

Sunflower. Sunny. Sunshine. Sun. The variations had been endless and with the town being relatively small, it had become well known that you were Sunflower. It wasn’t that unusual to have a nickname here after all. There were people in Millhaven, whose actual names you didn’t even know.

“Yes,” you replied quickly, slightly ashamed of having been caught standing behind the counter, all lost in your thoughts, “don’t worry about me.”

Mary, sweet Mary - she was another reason you felt bad about considering moving. She worried about you but you wanted to shield her. You didn’t want her to ask further questions, to ask anymore in general. You didn’t want her to worry about your frustrations, fears and the dilemmas that seemed to grow bigger everyday - so that she wouldn’t realise why there was a stun gun next to a pocketknife in your jacket, despite it being illegal to own said stun gun.

You didn’t really fear getting caught with it, as it wasn’t like the police would come out here to check. They hadn’t been out here for years, if you remembered correctly. The nearest bobbies in other villages were over an hour away and they tended to stay out of Millhaven. You supposed the bribes from the Shadows were worth it.

“The Graves fella still bothering you?”

Both of you knew that he did. He had for two years. He wouldn’t stop out of the blue, it would probably take a miracle. Or for him to find somebody else - and you almost didn’t want that for anyone. For a moment, the sympathy in her eyes reminded you of your mom. Mary had stepped into an almost motherly role for you in the last years, especially after your dad passed away.

Her long curly hair was braided this Monday, presumably by her sister, who had visited over the weekend - you had taken an extra shift alone to make sure they could spend time together. She was beautiful. A mother you wished would live forever. A part of you, your inner child perhaps, wanted to hug her and ask her to help you hide from the world.

“Hopefully he grows bored of me soon,” you replied instead, giving her a crooked smile, “I’m just tired of repeating myself every time I see him and his bloody bike.”

It wasn’t really a lie to say so, but you knew he wouldn’t stop any time soon. You being tired of him was just the truth.

Mary laughed as she disappeared into the back, reappearing a short moment later, the leftovers of a cake and scones in a small bag.

“Here - now let me walk you home, lass,” the loving tone had worry dripping into it, but it was a usual offer by now, “So I know you get home safely.”

It was a recurring discussion these days.

“Absolutely not,” you answered in a teasing tone as always, not wanting her to walk longer than she needed to - or see how unorganised you lived, “I can walk home myself. Graves can’t take that from me - but I’ll text you once I get home, yeah? Like yesterday?”

Mary let out a hum, not looking too happy, but the beta agreed again today. Besides, she had her own worries.

It wasn’t as if she was not affected by the Shadows’ presence in Millhaven - she had been, ever since they turned up. Paying them money so that they would leave her little cafe alone, promising to keep it safe, even if everything that happened in Millhaven was connected to them.

Both of you seriously doubted their safekeeping abilities but saying no wasn’t an option. It wasn’t really an offer.

A part of you wondered, if Mary knew you were lying all the time in general; if she knew you covered yourself in scent blocker and fake pheromones every day, to stay under the radar. To have a normal life. If your father ever told her. In case he had, she followed your own choice and didn’t talk about it.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Millhaven was getting ready for the evening, cars flashing by as people either went home, towards one of the two local grocery stores to collect food for dinner - or, to the pub, to get the day discussed and listen in on the gossip.

You passed the pharmacy. The queue was always long once or twice a week, as people stocked up on scent blockers, heat blockers and scent patches for themselves, or whatever cough medicine they needed for their kids, who had once again gotten sick.

You always walked home at the same time, near five PM. Every time you would wave at at least three locals and send a glare to at least two of the Shadows, who tended to hide around the town, silently watching people pass by from the alleyways.

It was a familiar scene, even if it still made you uncomfortable. Mrs. Henley’s bastard of a dog howled at you through the rose bushes and thin fence as always. The teenager next door would yell for it to shut up, while he attempted to hide the fact that he was secretly smoking cigarettes out his bedroom window. As if the entire neighbourhood, hell, probably the entire town, didn’t know he smoked. There lay a safety in it, passing him, knowing you were almost home.

You had quit smoking yourself after your dad had passed away, but every time you walked past the teenager, you wanted a cigarette so badly that it almost hurt. You wanted to have something to do, something to forget yourself in.

Turning to the right a moment later, your house was visible at the end of the road - standing out with its size and the blue color it had been all of your life - as well as the barely covered sign with your dad’s name on. You really should get it taken down, since he had been dead for four years now, but there were so many things you should probably get rid off.

Normally, the sight of your house was a relief - because usually the driveway was empty. There wasn’t supposed to be a motorbike, painted with the colors of the American flag, standing in it, with an annoying alpha leaning against it. You almost wanted to turn around and go back to Mary, but Graves had already spotted you, making your lips purse with annoyance at the sight of his stupid grin.

”Sunny Bunny,” he crooned darkly, as you got close and you stuck your free hand into the pocket of your jacket, grabbing onto the stun gun right next to the pocket knife. Perhaps a zap from the stun gun would make him get a hint, though you doubted he would be happy about it.

You hated that he knew your nickname, hated him even more when he called you Sunny Bunny. It wasn’t as if the nickname was a secret at all, the entire town called you variations of Sunflower, but you wanted it to be a secret from him and his stupid group.

”What do you want?” You asked as you got closer, not even attempting to be polite; right now you weren’t at work, so you didn’t have to behave like you did in the cafe. Instead you tipped your chin up, puffed your chest up a little, giving him a hard stare, as an alpha would do. You were tired, slightly cold and he was blocking your path to the front door with himself and that stupid bike. If you weren’t scared of the consequences, you would be cutting up those tires on a regular basis.

“Was wondering if a pretty alpha like you would go to the pub with me, yeah?” He asked, tipping his own chin up a little, grinning like a teenage boy feeling confident, “have a couple of beers - or whatever fancy drink you want.”

Every time he asked, he got a no. If he hadn’t been the leader of a biker gang, you might have slapped him. The urge to do so grew inside you every time he asked you out.

”I’m busy tonight, sorry.” You didn’t even attempt to sound apologetic.

”Funny,” The alpha mused as he leant against the bike a little more, tipping up his own chin up, clearly not intimidated or pleased with your reply, “you were busy the other night too - kinda odd, isn’t it?”

“Quite unlucky for you to choose the days I’m busy,” you answered dryly, “now if you would excuse me—“

Your grip on the stun gun tightened a little, but you managed to walk around the bike, avoiding his arm shooting out in an attempt to catch your arm — before he spoke once more.

”The cafe is goin’ great, isn’t it?” Graves had asked almost casually and it was as if the wind suddenly quieted down, in order to listen along. You looked over your shoulder to look at the pale alpha, who somehow seemed like he had flipped some sort of switch, suddenly looking much more dangerous than before. He let out a deep rumble from his chest, a sign that he was pleased with your uneasy reaction.

He wanted you to become upset. One alpha almost daring the other, to see what you would do; if you would attempt to challenge him, giving him an excuse to go at you, to sink his teeth into your skin —

“It’s going alright,” you finally answered, keeping your voice steady, having chosen each of the words carefully, so as to not give him an excuse. Keeping the anger inside.

”Oh, wonderful,” he rumbled, a pursed expression on his face, before he smiled again, “Would be a shame if the price for your lil boss lady’s protection fees would rise, wouldn’t it?”

”I - what?” The words weren’t smooth or confident now. The idea of him threatening Mary because of you seemed insane.

You wanted to growl at him; to put him in his place, to protect Mary - jump across that stupid bike of his, hopefully making it tip over, while you tased or stabbed him with your knife. Ice and flames were rushing through your veins at the same time, prickling at your skin from the inside out like needles, mixing together fear and anger. He had harassed you for two years more or less, but he had never dragged Mary or the cafe into it.

“Think about it when I ask next time,” he replied, face turning back into the boyish grin from before, his American accent seeping into his words, “‘right sugar?”

”She got nothing to do with this, Graves.”

He didn’t reply - instead he got up on his bike, kicking on the engine with a sharp, confident thrust, the bike waking with a roar of a beast - looking at you once more, only to wink at you.

He disappeared down the small road like a demonic predator rushing away, knowing he would get his prey the next time. Your grip on the little bag with leftovers tightened a little, the paper bag crinkling beneath your fingers. You wanted to use your claws for the first time in quite a while, even if they were dull.

Instead you turned around, calmly walking to your door, opening it and locking it again afterwards. You left the bag with leftover cake on the kitchen counter, texting Mary that you were home safely, not looking up as you walked to the bathroom.

As soon as you got on your knees, you vomited from fear.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

A couple of hours later, you laid in your bed, watching the ceiling of the bedroom you had slept in ever since your childhood. Despite your parents’ old room and bed being bigger, you couldn’t get yourself to sleep in it permanently. You couldn’t make yourself get rid of the bed either — the mere idea of doing so felt wrong.

It was like you clung to the memories of him, of the both of them, with the claws you cut regularly and with the retractable omegan fangs that you had filed down a bit to better hide.

It was the memories of how you would go to your parents, the later years only your father, if you had a nightmare or were anxious over something. Even the year he died, you slept next to him a lot — sometimes he would come for you, asking if you wanted to sleep next to him.

Perhaps it was the scent of each other that had helped the other feel safe enough to sleep. Knowing that the other was always there. That your father always did what he could for you, even in his last days. During his last days, when he was slowly dying, you slept next to him, holding his hand. You knew he feared death; he had told you so one late night, confessing how it scared him, how the unknown would be — how leaving you frightened him.

Fearing what would happen to you, when he wasn’t there any longer and whether you would be able to continue the concealment of your secondary gender.

Now the idea of sleeping in his bed every day felt wrong. It wasn’t your nest, it was your mother’s and father’s. The past two years, you had perhaps slept in it five times in total - you never found the same safety without one of them snoring next to you. Their scent wasn’t as strong anymore. It never felt like when you were a kid and slept in between them sometimes, when they kept you safe until morning. No. It didn’t feel right any longer.

Usually Millhaven would be relatively quiet during the night and you never had to look up at the ceiling for long, before you would fall asleep. Sure, there would be the occasional car passing by, the laughter from people walking home from the pub and as you grew older, you had gotten used to the sound of the motorbikes revving as well. It rarely continued past 11 PM.

Tonight was different.

As the hours passed, the sounds got worse, keeping you awake - as they kept on going, you became too afraid to look out the window. There were so many unusual sounds too. You were too afraid to call the police - nobody would, that was just how Millhaven was by now.

This night was filled with the sounds of motorbikes loudly roaring through the town, much louder than usual - for many of them, as time passed; then the sounds of gunshots had begun to echo throughout the streets. The shots and the screaming almost got swallowed up by the furious howling of the engines.

It was like a concoction of horrifying sounds; people screaming, things breaking, shots being fired, blending together like the soundtrack of a movie you didn’t want to watch. Even without the visuals, you wanted to scream and cry, wanted to hide from the world, just like when you were a child.

It only took an hour before you crawled to your parents’ old bedroom, keeping low and away from the windows, before disappearing beneath the slightly dusty sheets; curled together, trying to submerge yourself in the old, disappearing scent of your alpha father.

The ground beneath Millhaven was shaking with fear, almost as if it was threatening to break beneath its inhabitants and swallow up the place you called home.

Mary texted you not too long after the noises began, asking if you were safe. She confirmed two minutes later that she was safe as well, but that she was pretty sure one of the big windows in the cafe had been shattered.

You breathed in dust and fear, laying there, watching the picture of your parents and you on the wall, slightly concealed by the darkness, trying not to imagine what was happening outside. There was a morbid curiosity inside of you to know what was happening, if anybody was dying, yet an overwhelming panic overtook your body at the same time. Nobody would come out here, nobody would call the police, because it would be no good.

The nausea was back, especially at the silence that followed, as if the town had suddenly been abandoned.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Mary told you not to come in the next morning. Yet despite the day suddenly being free, you got up and got ready as usual. You had fallen asleep at some point after the silence began, but you weren’t sure when.

Taking a bath, using scent blockers and patches, before your regular perfume.

You felt slightly like a prey animal, not like a strong alpha, checking out your windows to make sure the coast was clear, before opening your door slowly. Peeping out, taking in the street… everything looked as it used to, as far as you spotted. Yet you had a feeling that nothing was the same.

It was slightly cold outside, the thin fog slowly going away.

It wasn’t until you got down to the end of your road, almost at the bigger road, that you saw something out of place.

Glass was scattered around a car, with the owner, Alfred, a middle aged beta man, looking at it with an exhausted look on his face. You saw the broken window as well as the bullet holes in the door, making you swallow before you walked up to it.

Carefully, you put your hand on his shoulder, giving it a pat. He sent you a look and a smile.

”At least it was the car and not the house,” he muttered, trying to sound a little happy, “ The missus isn’t happy though. Neither is the husband.”

You put both your hands in your pockets, curling them into fists for a moment. Feeling your blunt claws press against your palms. The two of you stood there for a few moments in silence.

”Do you know what happened last night?” You finally asked, hoping that he could give you some sort of answer - but he merely shook his head while shrugging. As unaware as you, it seemed.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have an idea. The sounds during the night and the bullet holes in his car door spoke for themselves.

After a short goodbye, you continued your trip towards the cafe, glancing at the proof of chaos that was scattered here and there. Bullet casings. Tiremarks on the road. Broken windows - a couple of knocked over trash cans that one of the home owners was angrily cleaning up.

An abandoned motorbike leaning against a house.

Mrs. Henley’s dog barked at you - but the barks seemed more hollow than usual, tired. The chain smoking teenager wasn’t yelling. The window was shut, for the first time in a while.

In the alleyway between the tiny bookshop and one of the grocery stores, where a shadow usually hid, another bike lay abandoned. Tipped over, glass scattered, gasoline seeping onto the asphalt. Due to the logo on it, you figured it was another one belonging to the shadows.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

Mary huffed in annoyance as you turned up at the cafe, frowning so hard that she looked much older for a moment. She let out a little growl, with no actual heat in it, unlocking the door to the cafe, making you walk through that, despite the window on the left side being gone, more or less leaving the cafe without half a façade.

“Are you unable to read your texts anymore, young lady?” The beta asked as you took the broom from her hands and started sweeping the broken glass together. Just like her growl, there was no heat behind her words, despite her attempt at being stern.

“I can,” you answered, with a smile on your face, “but I’m not gonna let you clean this mess up alone - what kind of employee would I be?”

It was also your way of checking up on her. See how rattled she was. Besides, you suspected she didn’t mind the company, especially as the cafe would be closed for today.

“A bloody normal one, who stays at home when she gets time off,” Mary defended, crossing her arms for a minute. Sleep always tended to make her more easily annoyed with the world than usual, “besides, I’ve already called Harold to come fix it. He will have to put up wood first though, until he gets the glass.”

“Then we go get a pint afterwards,” you offered, “I’ll pay.”

“Drinking on the job?” Mary made a teasing tsk-tsk sound at you, though there was a smile growing on her lips, before she admitted a moment later, “I honestly need that after tonight.”

“It went on for long,” you agreed and for a moment there was nothing but the sound of you filling up the dustpan with glass. As if the two of you were too afraid to acknowledge what might have happened.

“Too long.”

You didn’t reply to Mary’s observation, merely nodding. Her scent had a worried tinge to it.

Whatever had been going on during the night had scared her. Both of you, undoubtedly all of town as well. The worst thing? Somehow you had seen none of the Shadows yet. You had never thought that the sudden lack of the group would make you uncomfortable.

It hadn’t been the police last night - because then there would be bobbies filling the town, but none were here, the streets empty and quiet.

You swept up the massive pieces of glass and vacuumed the smaller ones afterwards, while Mary went to the local charity shop a couple of houses over, where they were patching two bullet holes in the wooden door. She came back not too long after, having bought a painting to hide the bullet hole in the wall on the other side of the window.

A couple of hours later, the window had been temporarily fixed with a big wooden board and a weird abstract painting of flowers that didn’t quite fit into the vibe of the cafe, hanging on the wall.

“Temporary as well,” Mary declared at the painting, before packing away the hammer and nails.

Gods, you really needed a drink.

☀️🌤️⛅️🌥️☁️

The two of you were far from the only people who had needed a drink or two. There was noise in the pub, but a different kind of noise than the one that had filled the town during the night. It was filled to the brim, you and Mary able to get a table for two, only by pure luck.

Sure, the atmosphere was still a little tense, but it felt much less dangerous. There were experiences to share, pictures to be shown on phones, beers to drink and attempts at comforting each other in your small community to be made. All of you quite confused over the lack of any leather vests or jackets with the familiar logo on. You saw several of your friends, who looked just as worried.

Yesterday one of the usuals had left his car at the pub’s parking lot to walk home. When he had returned this morning, it had been hit by something, most likely one of the big bikes. The fella had been so caught off guard by the sight of the dent, which was so deep that it hurt to look at - and he had just gone inside the pub again, continuing the drinking from the day before.

One of the couples living in the other end of the town, had a giant hole in their hedge, with one of the motorbikes laying abandoned on their lawn, having ripped up some of the flowerbeds as well.

The couple seemed most upset about the fact that their dog had pissed on it - afraid that whichever one of the Shadows owned it, would be upset.

The tiremarks would probably stay on the roads for a while. The blood splatters and dried up pools of it would disappear when the rain came, so none of you seemed to acknowledge it, nor the few teeth that had been found scattered across the town. The bullet cases could be picked up, thrown out.

So far, the only positive thing about all of this, seemed to be that Harold, the local handyman, suddenly had a bunch of things to do together with his apprentice, Jenny, a teenager who seemed happy to fully learn how to fix broken windows - there were enough of them across town to get good at it, you supposed.

The beer was good, however. Calmed the worst of your nerves - Mary seemed more relaxed now as well, chattering with you and one of her neighbours the next table over, about new recipes.

You had nursed half of your pint for a little while now though and it was getting warmer - making you consider just drinking the rest in one go and ordering a new one. Perhaps getting drunk tonight would be alright - just to forget for a little while, pretend that everything was fine.

However, the moment you lifted the glass to down the rest of the beer, everything changed in a matter of seconds, as noise started down street. It only took the vague sound for the safe and almost cozy atmosphere of the pub to change, as if the air was sucked from everybody’s lungs - nobody wanted to believe what they heard.

A stench of scared scents spread from table to table, people unable to help themselves, omegas, betas and alphas alike. Making the pub stink of fear and worry, of anger and resentment. Were they back? You carefully put the glass down again, listening more closely.

Engines.

Every single one of the folks currently inside of the pub knew the familiar yet hated sound of motorbike engines, currently coming closer.

Perhaps it had been naive of you to hope that everything was done - that the gang would disappear one day to another and that Millhaven would return to itself. Motorbike-free and peaceful. That there would no longer be feral alphas and betas roaming the streets, loyal to the symbol on their patches, on their vests, their jackets - to their club.

The entire pub had gone so quiet it almost hurt, most people frozen in fear, breathing deemed too loud - some dared to look out the windows or towards the door, though most looked at each other or their drinks. The air felt heavy, tense with the many scents of people in panic - yet nobody ran from the pub or disappeared upstairs. Everyone stayed, knowing they would have to know what was going to happen to Millhaven.

It was the owner, Alice, who was the first to break the silence, muttering out a “bloody hell.”

You silently agreed; a part of you wanted to hide out in the back, crawl beneath the floorboards once more, fearing that the Shadows would step into the pub, heads high after having won whatever had happened last night — that Graves would appear, that his gaze would land upon you.

It was one of the ladies by the windows, the wife of the book store owner if you were right, who uttered the second word to break the silence. The “fuck” echoed throughout the building, sending shivers through everyone.

Like sheep, caught in a pen, you all waited to see whether it was protectors or predators who were going to enter your safe space. If all of your blood would spill on the wooden floors, sticky with spilled beer or if you would be able to go home and sleep peacefully.

Lights flashed by the windows, motorbikes slowing down out front - followed by laughter in the parking lot. The engines died down one after one, like predators all quieting down in order to better watch their prey, before attacking.

The lack of the rumbling from their engines, meaning they were right outside and about to step in made you nauseous - Graves would walk in an—

Despite the familiarity of leather clothes, it wasn’t a recognisable face who stepped inside the pub. Or well, a recognisable figure, at first, as you couldn’t even see his face, hidden by a balaclava with a skull design on. He was big; tall enough that he had to bend his neck to step through the door, shoulders broad, arms thick. Clad in leather, with silver studs and buckles on, his helmet under one arm. There was no fear in his eyes as he looked around the pub, taking in the residents of Millhaven. The pub was filled with the scent of worry, but the big man didn’t seem bothered.

For a mere moment, you wondered if this was what Death would look like, when he would come to collect and bring you to your parents; not with a scythe or a cloak, but with a leather jacket and a helmet for you to wear, while he drove the motorbike into the afterlife with you.

Was he the leader of the people who had just arrived?

However, he held the door open, uttering a gruff sounding “evenin” into the pub, as if to be polite for a moment. He looked like he could break a neck with one arm, or curl your ribs into your lungs with only his fingers - snap a bone with a kick. A mere moment later, it was clear to everyone in the pub that this guy wasn’t the leader - any doubt left you, as another man entered through the door.

You instantly knew he was the leader from the mere way he carried himself, the energy that seemed to drip from him, his scent of power rushing through the pub like a tidal wave; how he knew he owned the room he stepped into, when he confidently walked directly towards the bar. Followed by several people, leather clad like himself.

Like beasts, having escaped the nightmares and darkness underneath one’s bed, stepping into reality, into light and sight. Letting themselves be seen.

The leader took a deep drag of his cigar, not looking bothered at all, as the smoke left his nostrils a moment later. You were reminded of the terrifying dragons in the fairytales that your parents used to read to you as a child. This one had no scales or wings, but he was a dragon to you no less. Ready to strike and take gold and silver, to create a hoard inside Millhaven. Only a pack this big, filled with monsters, would follow a dragon.

There was no reason for him to tap on a glass, or whistle; everyone’s attention was already on him.

He was broad and though he was not as tall as the skull-wearing monster next to him, he would no doubt tower over you as well. Leather clad from head to toe, jacket adorned with studs and chains, leather pants and a pair of big, heavy-looking leather boots. However, one of the more prominent things about the alpha, besides the leather clothes and intimidating stature, was perhaps the unusual, but nicely kept, beard. It almost looked like mutton chops. His hair was a dark brown, slicked back- there were earrings in his ears and thick rings on his fingers.

Though there seemed to be a hint of amusement on the alpha’s face, his eyes seemed sharp, studying the people in the pub.

“Friends!,” he called out and you immediately pushed yourself a little closer to Mary, even if it wasn’t very alpha-like. His voice was loud and strong, so everyone could hear him, “My name is John Price. I’m sure most of you heard the noises last night. My men and I apologise for those, I can assure you that it won’t happen again. As you might have noticed within these last couple of years, this town has been operated and ‘protected’ by The Shadows. As of today, this is no longer the case.”

As of today, this is no longer the case.

The words echoed through your head, repeating themselves over and over again. Did this mean Graves was gone?

There was a slowly growing buzz of noise, from the whispers and sounds leaving people and you felt Mary shake a little as she took a hold of your hand. It almost felt cold. As if the two of you weren’t really sure what to think yet, whether to scream of delight, or horror that the words instilled in you.

“Millhaven is now protected by my group, Team 1-4-1. There will be changes around here, all for the better, I assure you. As long as everyone behaves, I’m sure we will all get along just fine.”

You couldn’t look away from him, even as the words sent painful stabs of fear through your body; like small knives, pushing into your back and breaking your spine. It would all start over - your town would never be free, like it was when you were a kid. The streets you had grown up in would never be peaceful in the same way, your future would be limited by a group that none of you had agreed to accept. Mary was still shaking and you wondered what this would mean for her, for her shop.

Your only hope was that no one in this one-four-one would notice you.

A small part of you was relieved that your father wasn’t alive to see this. He would not have liked it either.

They kept speaking, the leader - John Price or something - declared free drinks for the rest of the evening, but you could barely hear them or focus on them.

When Mary squeezed your hand, it took a couple of seconds before you reacted. You had been staring into nothing, nausea in your throat, as horrifying thoughts crawled along your skull and invaded your mind. What happened to the shadows? Did you even want to know?

“I would like to go home,” you whispered to your boss, who gave your hand another short squeeze.

“In a few moments,” she agreed, “then we'll sneak out the back. Though these can hardly be worse than the shadows.”

A part of you wanted to point out to the older lady that these people had most likely killed the Shadows, one after another, not just politely asked them to leave. But you were afraid that vomit would spill from your lips afterwards.

Perhaps, this was the sign you had been waiting for - that you should move away and start somewhere new.

next chapter ->

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