#not a moment of his captivity goes by that he’s not wishing he could be with them again

[wildsaltair]

screencap from a lost deleted scene from Gladiator, in which Maximus cradles the little statues of his family (which he carries with him everywhere including battle!) after nearly dying in Germania

[miihho]

Can you please write type of guy headcanons for dae ho and gi hun 🥺? Thank you ❤️

THE KIND OF GUY

(squid game edition boys) nsfw

Dae ho / Player 388

— DAE HO IS THE KIND OF GUY who radiates warmth and loyalty, like a golden retriever. When Dae ho saw you effortlessly take down the two bullies harassing someone else, his eyes gleamed with admiration, captivated by your strength and resolve. As the crowd erupted in applause, he couldn’t help but feel an even deeper respect for you. In that moment, you earned not only their admiration but his as well. (His crush on you was developing gradually.)

—He's the kind of guy who blushes whenever you're near, his nerves getting the best of him as he stammers while talking to you, laughing awkwardly. It's all because you're so sweet to him—and to everyone else, too! He can't help but adore that about you.

—He’s the kind of guy who genuinely wants to get to know you better, not just the surface-level details, but the little things that make you who you are. He asks questions with true curiosity, listens intently, and cherishes every story you share. To him, understanding you isn’t just about filling in gaps—it’s about building a connection that goes beyond the ordinary.

—He’s the kind of guy who secretly gives you his food. One day, after returning from your bed, you noticed some milk on it. Curiosity piqued, you wondered who could have left it there, but hey, free milk, right? So you drank it. If he saw you enjoying it, he'd be totally happy inside, his heart warming at the thought of you drinking it. But if you didn’t, and instead gave it to someone else, he'd feel a little sad, pouting as he quietly watched from afar.

— He’s the type of guy who daydreams about you even in his sleep, a soft smile playing on his lips as he imagines taking you out on a date, giving you flowers, and writing you heartfelt letters. He’s kind and sweet, but also shy around you.

— He’s the type of guy who supports you wholeheartedly, cheering you on through every victory. He wishes and prays that you’ll make it through the next game, and when you do, his heart swells with happiness. He desperately wants to run up to you, hug you tightly, and lift you off the ground, spinning you in the air while admiring you. But his nerves hold him back. Instead, he smiles shyly from a distance, watching as others celebrate your success, his joy quietly battling with his anxiety as he longs to be the one to congratulate you.

—He’s the kind of guy who admires you from afar, his heart skipping a beat every time you smile. When you're talking with your teammates, he can't help but stare at you lovingly, a soft smile creeping onto his face. But when Jung Bae notices his smile and asks about it, he panics, nervously brushing it off as nothing. If Jung Bae catches on to who he's looking at, he’d tease him, leaving him blushing and flustered, unable to hide his feelings.

— He’s also the kind of guy who would protect you no matter the cost. One night, when it was time to sleep, he stayed watch over you, ensuring your safety. In the process, he nearly put himself in danger, but managed to take care of the threat. Just as he thought it was over, he noticed someone about to ambush you from behind. Without hesitation, he shouted your name.

“Y/n!” he called out, grabbing your attention. As you turned to face him, he ran toward you, tackling you to the ground just in time to shield you from a knife aimed at your back. He placed a protective hand on your head, his heart pounding in his chest.

After dealing with the person who tried to harm you, he was consumed with worry, his concern for you evident in every glance. His hands trembled as he checked for any injuries, his eyes scanning your body for bruises. When he finally saw you were okay, relief washed over him, and he couldn’t help but smile, saying softly, “I’m glad you’re alright, Y/n.”

— He’s the kind of guy who, when you're speaking to him, finds it hard to hear anything at all. You're simply glowing, and he's so completely lost in admiration for you, smiling without even realizing it. When a strand of your hair falls across your face, he can't help but gently tuck it behind your ear. The moment you look up at him, his heart skips a beat, and he suddenly becomes acutely aware of what he’s done. Flustered, he starts to stutter out a flurry of excuses, his nervousness betraying him. But all you do is laugh softly, calling him "cute." That single, simple word sends his heart into a frantic race, leaving him breathless and unable to shake the warmth spreading through him.

—He’s the kind of guy who would go to any length to protect you, even if it means hurting the people who’ve hurt you. He’ll keep going until his fists bleed, unable to stop because his care for you runs so deep. He doesn’t want to see you in pain, and his love for you pushes him to act without thinking of the consequences. Even when you beg him to stop, he’s torn, unable to hold back the intensity of his emotions. But deep down, you know that right? That he just cares for you more than anything.

—He’s the kind of guy who’ll do whatever it takes to cheer you up when you’re feeling down. When you're crying, he'll be right there, comforting you with soft, reassuring words like, "I’ll be here for you," and "It’s okay, everything’s going to be alright." He’ll pull you into his arms, wrapping you in a warm embrace, rubbing your back gently as he holds you close, offering a quiet strength that makes you feel safe. His presence is enough to ease the weight on your heart, as he promises to always be there for you, no matter what.

—He’s the kind of guy who, when in love, will sneakily try to get closer to you, even if it means "accidentally" bumping into people in the crowd. Just being near you makes him happy, and the slightest touch from you sends a thrill through him. If your eyes meet by accident, he’ll hold your gaze for a second, but then quickly look away, his face turning bright red with embarrassment. When he tries to glance at you again and you catch him, his heart races uncontrollably. He’s sure he even heard you chuckle, and in that moment, he can’t handle it anymore—embarrassed and flustered, he tries to hide in the shadows, wishing he could escape how you make him feel. (You have no idea how much you’re making him nervous.)

—He’s the kind of guy who would shower your face with kisses, making you giggle and laugh, completely captivated by the joy he brings. He’s also the type who’s hopeless at flirting, but he still gives it a shot, despite knowing he’s not great at it. When he catches you staring into his eyes, his confidence crumbles, and he can’t find his words, stammering as his mind goes blank. And when you laugh, a soft, teasing chuckle, it only makes him more flustered, his heart racing as he awkwardly tries to recover, unable to stop the warmth spreading across his face. (ARGEUWHRAHHH)

— When he's in a relationship with you, he's the kind of guy who'll ask for a good luck kiss before every game you play together.

—He’s the kind of guy you’ll wake up to, his comforting voice gently pulling you from your sleep. “Good morning, baby,” he’ll say, his smile already softening his features. “Morning, sunshine,” or “Good morning, sweetheart, did you sleep well?” he’ll ask, his voice warm and full of affection as he watches you slowly wake up.

—He’s the kind of guy who would tenderly kiss the places you’re most insecure about, as if to remind you of how beautiful you truly are. He’s the one who won’t stop kissing you, pulling you back every time you try to pull away, as if he can’t let go of the warmth you bring.

—He’s also the kind of guy who craves you in the purest, most innocent ways. He craves the chance to say goodnight and press a soft kiss to your forehead, to tell you how much he adores you, especially when you feel at your lowest. He doesn’t need anything more or less—just being near you, sharing quiet moments together, is all he could ever want.

—He’s the kind of guy who kisses you slowly, with so much passion that it feels like time itself has paused. To him, every moment matters, and he wants to make it last—pressing his lips softly against yours, savoring the closeness. His eyes remain closed, his hands resting firmly on your waist as he pulls you closer, as if he can’t bear to let go. When he finally pulls away, his gaze locks with yours, filled with love so deep it leaves you breathless. And just when you think it’s over, he leans in to kiss you again.

—He’s the kind of guy who would stay outside your house all night the moment you mentioned your parents weren’t home. You said it in a teasing, seductive tone, hoping he’d catch the hint—but instead, his protective instincts took over completely. Without a second thought, he made it his mission to ensure your safety. The cool breeze and late hours didn’t faze him; his only focus was making sure nothing could harm you.

—He’s the kind of guy who values your comfort above all else, always asking for your consent to ensure you’re at ease. When you overstimulate him, soft whines and gasps escape his lips, his breathing uneven as he tries to handle the intensity. He’s incredibly careful, his fear of hurting you evident in the way he constantly checks in, asking if you’re okay. If you show even the slightest discomfort, he immediately stops, gently comforting you with soothing words and touches. Only when you’re ready does he proceed, moving slowly and tenderly.

—He’s the kind of guy who would be endlessly obedient for you, hanging on your every word just to make you happy. When you call him a “good boy,” his cheeks flush a soft pink, and he can’t help but feel a swell of pride, as if earning your praise is the greatest accomplishment. The way he gets all shy and bashful in response only makes the moment sweeter.

—He’s also the kind of guy who whispers a breathless “please” when you tease him, his voice trembling with both desperation and longing. When you refuse to let him cum, he’ll keep pleading, his tone growing needier, begging you to finally let him release cum since you've been edging him for hours straight.

—He’s the kind of guy who moans a lot and would be needy for you. Like he's breathy and full of unrestrained moans as pleasure overwhelms him. His voice, low and husky, spills out between gasps as he murmurs how good you feel. For example.

In the cramped confines of a public bathroom stall, he tries desperately to not make a sound. His trembling hand rests on your head, fingers tangling in your hair. He was desperately trying to keep quiet, not wanting anyone outside the stall to discover what you were doing. But you decided to tease him, to push him just a little further. Holding his gaze, you slowly ran your tongue over the tip of his cock, maintaining eye contact that had him on the verge of losing all composure.

“Baby, please...” he begged, his tone barely audible but dripping with raw desperation. His hips bucked slightly, seeking more friction, his body betraying how badly he needed release.

You smirked, letting your lips hover over his slick, aching member, your warm breath teasing his already overstimulated skin. “Hm? What’s that?” you teased, maintaining a deliberate slowness. “You’ll have to speak up.”

His head fell back, and a quiet whine escaped him, “I can’t—please, I need it so bad baby, please let me cum... Want you. I want you so bad.” he whimpered, the faint sound of his soft, needy whines filled the stall, his breathing uneven and ragged as he clung to what little composure he had left. His head tilted back against the wall, his lips parted, and his cheeks flushed as he whimpered softly.

His chest rose and fell in shallow breaths, his flushed face and sweat-dampened skin making him look utterly undone. The way he squirmed and whimpered under your control had you tempted to keep teasing him, but his broken whispers and the raw adoration in his eyes made you relent.

"hng...—oh fuck," he gasped, his breath uneven as you gave in at last. "Your mouth feels so good baby, so damn perfect, fuck keep going just like that baby." His praise spilled out uncontrollably, barely coherent as you pushed him closer and closer to the edge.

—Hes also the kind of guy who cries during sex. (Something about men crying is just hgnngjdhe)

“Baby, please stop..” he whimpered, his voice trembling with the weight of his plea. “It’s too much… please, it’s too much.” His hands weakly gripped your waist, trying to stop you, but his body trembled with each movement, and yet there was no escape from the overwhelming pleasure.

“Aww, sweetie,” you cooed, not slowing down. “Just one more round, mkay? I know You can handle it for me."

“N-no, please… it’s too much… I don’t think I can…take it,” he said, his tear-filled eyes locking with yours, his flushed face streaked with the weight of his emotions. The sight of him so vulnerable made your heart ache, and without hesitation, you gently wiped away the tears rolling down his cheeks with the pad of your thumb.

“Aww, don’t cry my love,” you whispered softly, your voice tender as you leaned in, brushing your lips against his forehead. “You’re my good boy, right? You’re doing so well for me. Just a little more, baby.”

“Fine… just one more.” he said, his voice soft and shaky. The way he melted under your touch, still willing to give more despite how overwhelmed he felt. (You made him cum multiple times 🫶🏻)

I decided to do dae ho first cuz he cute(⁠��⁠▽⁠≦⁠) HAPPY NEW YEAR

[soaps-mohawk]

Cherry Red, Crimson Blood

Chapter 37: The Silence

Summary: Tensions are at an all time high in the pack as an eerie silence settles over the cottage

Pairing: Poly 141 x reader

Word Count: 6,179 words

Warnings: Angst, heavy emotions, arguing, medical stuff, injuries, descriptions of pain, brief discussion about strangulation, so much crying, Alpha/Beta/Omega dynamics, Alternate Universe, panic attack, PTSD, language

A/N: Uh yeah, this one did emotional damage. Prepare yourselves.

11/30/24: **This chapter has been edited and rewritten from its original version**

MASTERLIST | <- Previous | Next ->

They stand there watching like four knights in a tower guarding their kingdom. Their eyes are glued ahead, staring through the glass out into the backyard. They’re alert and watchful, eyes assessing and scanning for any threats. There are none except for your trembling legs. 

They stand there watching like four knights guarding their princess. None of them are brave enough to move, none of them dare break the moment. They can’t help but wonder what’s going on in your head, what drove you to push past the pain and exhaustion to shuffle your way outside. 

Panic bubbled in Kyle’s chest when he saw you shuffling your way across the living area. He’d nearly intervened when you stumbled, but John’s hand on his chest stopped him. You were in your own world, oblivious to everyone and everything as you shuffled determinedly toward the back door. They’d silently followed you, Johnny and Simon joining them when they descended the stairs. 

All you’ve done is stand out there. It feels like it’s been an hour, but it’s been less than five minutes. You’re frozen there, all except for the tremble of your legs and the subtle shake of your shoulders. 

You’re crying. 

It hurts his soul. It tears through his very chest as he watches you. He wants nothing more than to run out there and take you in his arms and soothe your tears. 

He can’t. 

He lost those privileges when they left you just like that. They knew you were in danger, they knew that something was wrong, and yet they just up and left you. They should have known something was going to happen. They should have known even leaving Johnny and Simon behind wouldn’t mean safety. They were called away, and they followed those orders because that’s what they’re supposed to do. Be obedient soldiers and follow orders. 

John isn’t always the most obedient. He’s gone against the orders and wishes of his superiors many times, yet this time he didn’t. He didn’t even question those orders. 

Would things have changed if he had questioned it? Would John have listened if he had brought up just how suspicious the timing was? Could he have avoided all of this if he had just questioned his alpha? 

Not all of it would have been unavoidable. 

He has no doubt they would have still come after you regardless. They would have found some other way to isolate you. Even sending you to stay with Kate in a secure location wouldn’t have worked. Shepherd still would have known where you were, and it would have been just as easy to snatch you from right under their noses. 

Graves wouldn’t have given up that chance so easily, even if he knew what the outcome would be. 

Shepherd fucked him over too in the end. 

Things happened the way they did and they can’t change that. That’s what Christine keeps telling them. The past is the past and you can only work to build the future. 

It’s going to take a lot of work. 

“How long has she been out there?” Christine asks, stepping up next to them. 

“About four minutes.” Simon answers. 

“She shouldn’t be out there like that.” Christine goes to move to the door, but John stops her. 

“Let her have a moment.” He says, still staring out the window. “She needs it.” 

Christine lets out a quiet huff but she doesn’t move, turning her gaze out the sliding glass door as well. 

You continue to stand there, frozen like a statue. Time passes slowly, all of them captivated by the silent moment they’re witnessing. It’s almost hypnotic. The fading light, your figure standing there surrounded by grey skies and green earth like some sort of painting. 

Pain and bliss. 

That’s what he’d title it. He knows that’s what you must be feeling. Pain, visible and invisible from wounds that go far deeper than the flesh. Pain in its purest form as you stand there under heavy grey skies that echo the heaviness in your mind. The bliss echoes from John’s words, his reveal of your desire to see the ocean again, to stand on its shores and let its essence consume you.

It all makes sense now. No wonder you would cling to him the most, press your face into his neck and just breathe. His own briney scent was a gateway to what you desired in your landlocked position. How long had you been holding that desire in? Were you disappointed when you rolled up on their doorstep to find yourself still far away from the sea? You hid that desire from the knowledge that, as an omega, your wants and needs would always come last, in the knowledge that their jobs would come first and you would be at the mercy of that job. 

His eyes burn with tears as he stares at you. 

You begin to tremble more and more the longer you stand there, shifting on your feet. It breaks the haze they’ve all been frozen in, the five of them snapping back into reality. Christine is out the door before any of them can move, hurrying to your side. She wraps an arm around your back, careful not to touch your left arm as she steadies you. Kyle jumps into action automatically after her, hurrying to your new designated room to grab the wheelchair. With how much effort it took to walk out there, you won’t be walking back in. 

He wheels it out, holding it still as Christine maneuvers you into it. As much as he doesn’t want to, he turns, slipping back in the door as Christine wheels you towards the house. The four of them watch as she passes, time pausing as they stare at you. You don’t look up at them, don't acknowledge them at all. Your gaze is turned down in your lap, head lowered as you hunch, shoulders rounded.

Pain and exhaustion are weighing on you from your exertion as Christine takes you back to your room. How heavy the world must seem from the combined weight of your physical and mental injuries. The state of your mind would be one thing, but being stuck in a temporary handicapped state due to your physical injuries must be driving you nearly insane. There’s no getting away, no isolation. You can’t even walk fully unaided yet. 

There’s no freedom.  

All of them share a look in the heavy silence, understanding without even needing to say a word. 

The mug is burning his fingers but he can’t bring himself to care. His gaze is locked, mind focused elsewhere. He hasn’t moved in so long his joints are aching, but he can’t find it in himself to even shift his position.

“Drinking it black?” His fingers twitch as Kyle takes the seat next to him, his own mug of tea in his hands. It clunks as he sets it on the table before he lowers himself into the chair with a sigh. “That’s low even for you.” 

Simon lets out a grunt, eyes still focused out the sliding glass door. 

“She’s fine.” Kyle says, pulling out his phone. “The Doc won’t let anything happen to her.” 

“Don’t like that she’s out there alone.” Simon says, finally releasing the mug, squeezing his burning fingers into his palm. 

“Technically she’s not alone,” Kyle says, giving him a sideways glance. “We’ve been over this. We’re perfectly safe here.” 

“For now.” Simon lifts his mug to his lips, ignoring the burn of the tea on his tongue. He’s long become numb to that sort of pain.

“No one knows we’re here except Kate and my sister. Neither of them would say anything, no matter what.” Kyle turns his gaze back to the sliding glass door, to your figure huddled in the chair outside. “She’s where she needs to be right now.” 

Footsteps thud down the stairs, John letting out a groan as he reaches the bottom. He takes a moment to stretch before heading for the kettle in the kitchen. 

“Rough night, sir?” Kyle asks, taking a sip of his tea. 

“I’ve slept worse.” John grunts, grabbing a mug from the cupboard. 

Both of them had tossed and turned last night. Simon had listened to the occasional creak of the bed frame as they turned. He knows that’s what it was. They’re not ready yet. None of them are. Things are too fragile, too frayed. 

“Anyone thought about breakfast?” John asks. 

“Still some eggs left, and some bread. We need to make a store run soon.” Kyle says. 

“Today.” John says, pouring water into the mug. “A lot of things we need to pick up.” He turns to face Simon and Kyle, leaning against the cupboard. “Simon and I will go.” 

Simon shifts in his seat, his hand tightening around his mug again. “That’s not a good idea.” 

“What, you’re doubting our ability to watch the house?” Kyle says, turning to Simon. 

Simon glances at him, his eyes hard. “No, There should just be an alpha here at all times.” 

“Really? Because that sounds a lot like you don’t trust Johnny and I.” Kyle says, getting angry. 

“Enough.” John says, setting his mug down on the table. “We keep fighting amongst ourselves, nothing is going to get better. Tensions are high, but none of this is about us. We have to keep our heads on straight for the sake of our pack, and our omega. Simon and I will go to town today. That’s final.” 

Kyle and Simon both lower their eyes to their mugs of tea as John takes a seat at the table. He is right. Fighting amongst themselves will only make things worse for you. You’re already struggling, and the bonds fraying further will only cause more damage, more stress for you. Their bonds with you are delicate enough. They can’t risk the bonds between themselves getting any thinner. They have to be strong for you. They have to be strong for each other. They have to be strong for the pack. The whole pack. 

It falls silent between the three of them as they sit there, sipping their tea. Johnny is the only one still in bed. He cried most of the night last night. He’s cried most of the night the last three nights. He’s probably shed more tears than you have. 

Simon feels stuck in the middle, like he’s being torn in two separate directions. He got up in the night to free himself from the sounds of Johnny crying just to hear your own quiet sobs through your closed door. Each broken sob had his heart splitting in half, the ache in his chest getting worse and worse. He was sure he was having a heart attack that first night, his chest compressing and squeezing, his hands going numb from how tense his body was. 

He wants to reach out and make it better, but he can’t bring himself to. Johnny will just shrug him off, and you won’t even look at him. Even John and Kyle are distant, gravitating further and further away. The gravitational field in the center of their pack continues to get bigger and bigger, forcing them further and further away from each other, and none of them know how to stop it. They’ve lost their point of equilibrium. They’re all spiraling further and further away. Eventually that gravitational field will dissipate and they’ll be left free-floating through space and time. 

They all turn to look as the sliding glass door opens and you crutch your way in. Dr. Keller is right behind you, closing the back door before guiding you back to your room, the blanket you had been draped in folded neatly over her arm. You’re moving better, even just in two days since their arrival. Steadier on your feet, walking better with the crutch. You even look a little better, more alive than you were when you arrived here. 

They all watch you walk to your room, but you don’t spare a glance their way. You haven’t looked at any of them in two days. You haven’t spoken a word to them, to anyone, in two days. 

Kyle gets up to make breakfast as soon as you’ve passed, broken from the spell as Dr. Keller gets you settled in your room. You’re almost hypnotic now, all of their gazes drawn to you as soon as you enter the room. They’re all thinking the same thing every time you pass. Maybe this will be the time you finally look at them, when you finally glance their way. What he wouldn’t give to have you smile at him, give him that cheeky little grin after sassing him. 

Little shit. 

His hand tightens around his mug again as guilt floods him. You’ve sunken into an empty shell because of them. They sucked the life right out of you. They dragged you into this and failed to do what they were supposed to do. Anger bubbles in him as he thinks back to that moment. He should have fought back. He should have questioned those orders, disobeyed for the sake of his pack. He should have been brave enough to help you through your heat. 

He’s not your alpha. 

He almost wishes he was. 

He stares down at the scabbed imprint of your teeth on his skin. He should pick up a bottle of ink in town, tattoo that mark on his skin forever as a reminder of both you and what he did to you. 

“How is she?” John asks when Dr. Keller enters the kitchen. Simon’s shoulders square as she passes him, having been so lost in his thoughts he hadn’t even noticed her enter. 

Bloody hell, he’s getting to be as bad as you.

“As good as she can be.” She sighs, grabbing a can of soup out of the cupboard. You won’t get the eggs and toast Kyle is making. Your diet consists of soup and only soup. 

“Hasn’t said anything still?” John asks, turning to look at her. 

“Not a word.” Dr. Keller shakes her head. “I’d be worried, if it wasn’t expected.” She pulls out a pot, opening the can before dumping the contents in. Chicken noodle. The staple soup in your diet. “Strangulation can be a hard thing to recover from.”

“I know.” Simon winces, taking a sip of his tea. 

The doctor gives him a sympathetic look. He doesn’t want it. “She had some mild damage done from it, which will take time to heal. And, everyone deals with trauma differently. Silence isn’t that unusual of a response.” She puts the pan on the hob, turning the heat on. “If I was worried, you would know.” 

“Thank you for looking after her.” John says, nodding at the doctor. “You didn't have to stay.”

“I made a promise.” She says, stirring the soup. “She's still my patient, even if the initiative was bogus. I still have a duty to perform as her doctor. Kate wouldn't have chosen me from the start if I was the type to just up and leave as soon as I found out my job wasn't actually real. I care about her a lot, and I want to help her get through this.”

“We all owe a lot to you.” John says. “We wouldn't have made it this far without you.”

“No,” The corner of her mouth twitches. “You probably wouldn't have.”

Christine lets out a quiet sigh as she steps into your room. You're in the chair by the window, your usual spot when it's too damp and cold to sit outside. 

It's dark in the room aside from the light coming through the window. It’s always dark in the room, except at night when you sleep with the bedside lamp on. She flips that lamp on, not wanting to blind you suddenly with the overhead light. You’ve been blinded by enough bright lights over the last week. Nearly a week and a half. It feels like so much time has passed, yet it still feels like yesterday when she was coming to in her office after being attacked and drugged. The terror she’d felt upon finding you missing still fills her stomach, and she finds herself getting up in the middle of the night to check and make sure you’re really there. 

She’s not the only one that does it. 

The paper bags in her arms crinkle as she carries them over to you, setting them on the other chair. Your gaze is far away, staring off at the grey, stormy sea in the distance. How fitting the weather is, both for you and the members of the pack. 

The tension between them is still palpable, all of them moving stiffly around each other. They’ve lost the natural fluidity of a pack comfortable in their bonds. They’re stuck, and they can’t, they won’t, heal until you do. They won’t allow themselves to until they know you’re willing to at least try. 

“John and Simon went to town and did some shopping. They picked up some things for you.” She says softly, breaking the heavy silence in the room. 

You don’t even turn to look at her. 

“More warm clothes.” She continues, looking in one bag. “As well as some boots.” She pulls a box out of another bag. “A nightlight, so you don’t have to keep using the lamp.” She looks in the third bag, the heaviest one of the three. “Another stuffed animal.” She says, pulling out a stuffed bear. It’s a nice thought, but she’s not sure you’ll even want to touch it. “And some books.” She says, pulling the stack out of the bottom of the bag. 

There’s three of them, ones not in the collection on the shelves in the living area. Some of your favorites. They’re trying, putting in efforts to try and make you as comfortable as possible in the only ways they can right now. She sets the books on the side table next to you, taking a long look at you as you sit there. 

You haven’t picked up a book in the two days they’ve been at the cottage, though she’s not surprised. You’ve been in and out of it, sleeping off the pain medicine, or sitting in a haze, mind far away from the cabin. She wonders where you are, where your mind is going. Out on the water? Out on the beach? Or maybe somewhere back in your memories where it’s safe. Receding back somewhere when life was easier and safer. 

Are you thinking of your mother? Are you imagining her here with you? 

Her heart hurts for you, being torn away from her at such a pivotal moment in your life. If she had the ability to find her she would. If she could track down your mother and bring her here for you she would. 

You begin to sniffle, almost as if you can somehow read her thoughts. The tears are falling, streaming down your cheeks again. She doesn't say anything, she doesn’t have to as she stands there beside you, gently stroking your hair. She’s seen many things in her time as an omega specialist. She’s had patients that have gone through things that would make even the most seasoned doctor’s stomach churn. She’s helped omegas that have been pushed to the brink of insanity, omegas pushed to the brink of death. Yet none of them have affected her the way you have. Maybe it’s because she’s never been quite so invested in an omega’s life before, never been quite so inserted into an omega’s reality. 

If she was a better doctor, she might have refused to stay here, keeping distance between herself and your pack. She’s gotten too close, pushed past the barrier of professionalism. If she was a better doctor, she’d distance herself, stick to the decorum and expectation of doctor/patient relationships. She knows omega specialists can get too close. She’d been warned over and over about how easy it is to invest too much into the lives and well beings of omegas. There’s a boundary that must be kept, both for the professional and for the sake of the omega. She won’t be around you forever. 

Eventually she’ll have to distance herself. She’ll have to go back to America, return to her practice. Now that the initiative is over, now that her job doesn’t even exist, she’s running on borrowed time. She’ll have to leave you at some point, close your case and move on. 

When is the question there. When will it be the right time? When will she decide you’ve healed enough to be graduated from her care? When will she be confident enough to break the bond that has formed between the two of you. 

Will she be able to? That’s the deeper question. 

Those are thoughts for a different day, she decides, pushing them aside. Instead she pulls you into her side, resting your head against her hip as she continues to stroke your hair. 

You look just about as happy to be at the table as they do. It's quiet in the room aside from the clanking of dishes in the kitchen and the occasional sizzle of food in a pan. Your gaze is in your lap, assuming your normal position of a drooping head and rounded shoulders. 

Your back and neck have to hurt from being in that position for so long. 

The only time you're not in those positions are when you're outside. Then your gaze is out at the sea in the distance. You sit there and stare, almost like a statue. You’d make for a good painting, seated still enough for long enough a skilled artist could make a masterpiece of it. 

He's surprised Johnny hasn't even sketched you like that yet. Perhaps if you can ever come to be more comfortable around them, you'll allow him to paint you. You’ll be taking up residence out there in that chair as often as you can. 

He’s not even sure rain or storm would deter you, if it wasn’t for Christine’s intervention. 

Kyle sets a plate of chicken on the table as Christine brings over your soup, setting it down in front of you. Always a bowl of steaming hot soup. How you’re existing off of mostly liquids is beyond him. Maybe that’s why you look so fragile and frail. 

“There you go,” Christine says as she sets a spoon down beside the bowl. Chicken and rice, a changeup from your normal chicken noodle. “I know you don’t want to, but you need to. You’re not going to feel better without food in your system.” 

You let out a quiet noise, just barely audible over the shuffling of bodies as they sit at the table. Simon is to your left, Kyle next to him, Christine and Johnny on the other side. He’s on the opposite end of the table, staring right at you. No wonder you don’t want to move from your hunched position. 

They keep their eyes off of you as they begin serving themselves. The food they’ve managed to make is decent with the help of their combined cooking skills. They’d had a long discussion about the intricacies of British food versus American food the first morning after their arrival. Christine advocated for more American-based dishes, with Johnny taking her side purely out of spite for the three Englishmen. 

John has caught Christine sneaking seasoning into the food every so often. He hasn’t said a word.

“Come on, eat up.” Christine says, gently nudging your hand where it rests over the spoon. 

Your face screws up in a grimace as you stare down at the steaming soup. It’s a breath before your fingers wrap around the spoon, lifting it to the bowl. Every movement feels practiced and calculated as he watches you sink the spoon into the bowl, just barely sinking below the surface to get just broth. He watches as you lift the spoon, holding it halfway to your mouth. There’s a subtle shake to your hand, not much but noticeable to him. You stare down at the spoon for a long moment before lifting it the rest of the way, quickly putting it in your mouth before your hand starts shaking too much. 

You grimace as you swallow, a quiet grunt leaving your lips. He can’t bring himself to look away as you sit there, taking in a couple deep breaths. He can’t bring himself to eat as you stare back down at the bowl, your fingers trembling around the spoon. 

Fuck. 

You sniffle as you sink the spoon into the bowl once more, the spoon shaking more now as you bring the second spoonful to your mouth. It’s like watching some kind of sick, twisted children’s windup toy as you feed yourself, following the pattern of spoon in soup, soup to mouth, pained grimace, quiet sob. It gets worse and worse with every bite, John barely able to stomach his own food as he watches you with every bite.

You stare down at a chunk of chicken on your spoon, a fearful look on your face. Your hand is shaking enough that soup is dripping off the bottom back into the bowl. Christine had cut the chunks up smaller, yet you stare down at it like it might jump off the spoon and bite you. 

Tears start rolling down your cheeks as you bring the spoon up to your lips, forcing it into your mouth. You chew and chew and chew, delaying the inevitable. The face you make as you swallow nearly breaks him. He lowers his gaze to his own plate, barely touched despite the fact he feels like they’ve been eating for a lifetime. 

“Take a break.” Christine says quietly, lowering your hand with the spoon back onto the table. 

None of them can bear to look at you. Johnny and Kyle are busy staring at their plates as they eat while Simon glares holes into his water glass. He’s watching you just as closely, he’s just not brave enough to stare at you so openly. 

The tears continue to fall as you start feeding yourself again, Christine watching you as your hand begins to shake more and more, the pain starting to get to you. John wants to reach out, to take the spoon and feed you himself, but he can’t. It’s destroying him inside, seeing you struggle so openly. Christine won’t intervene, she won’t do anything as she sits there. Rationally he knows why. You need to get used to feeding yourself again, you need to work past the pain and exhaustion to keep yourself going. 

His alpha is screaming. 

Your hand is nearly vibrating as you hold another spoonful up, this one full of rice and chicken. You let out a quiet sob as you stare at it. That’s going to hurt. He can nearly sense your pain, the agony you’re feeling. Your scent is like a cloud fogging up the air, sour with fear and pain. It’s sinking right into his brain, his alpha clawing at him to do something. You’re in such open distress in front of him but he can’t move. He’s frozen, staring at you in shock, unable to look away. 

It’s Simon’s quick reflexes that save you, his hand darting out to flip the spoon onto the table before you drop it on yourself. It lands with a clang, startling all of them out of their ruminations as it hits the bowl of peas, splattering rice and chicken and broth across the tablecloth. Christine is on her feet almost immediately, checking you over for burns from any of it that might have landed on you. 

“You're okay.” Christine says, wiping your face with a napkin as you sob loudly, openly crying now. “It was a good try. Come on.” 

She helps you to your feet, grabbing your crutch before leading you back to your room. 

All four of them sit there in silence, still as statues as they process what they had just witnessed. 

“Fuck,” Kyle breaths, his eyes glued to the half-eaten chicken on his plate. 

Johnny starts to sniffle himself, his gaze locked on his own plate. Simon's eyes are on the spoon he'd flipped where it lays on the table. 

He had no idea just how bad things really were. He knew they were bad. 

He just didn't think they were this bad.

You’re sitting outside in that chair again. It’s a lovely morning, cold but the sun is rising up over the hills, casting a pink and orange glow across the sky. You look almost ethereal out there, even if he can only see the back of your head. Your eyes are cast out at the sea in the distance, where your gaze always seems to lie. 

His fingers itch in a desire to draw you, the art supplies Simon had picked up for him sitting unopened upstairs. It’s the first time he’s felt the desire to draw in weeks. Not since your heat when he’d sat there by your side, drawing to keep the thoughts away. The pictures are probably still up on his wall, the pieces he’d done to keep his own distress away. Had you laid there and stared at them after they left you? He can picture you laying there numbly, eyes glazed as you stare at them, picturing yourself far away. 

You don’t need his drawings now to imagine yourself far away. 

You’re still as a statue as you sit there, the thick blanket he’d picked up in Texas tucked around you. It warms his heart, even if he knows it was Christine who wrapped you up in it. The mug of tea beside you is still steaming in the cool air, untouched as it will remain until Christine eventually brings you back inside where you’ll recede to your room to sit in front of the large bay window to stare out at the sea. 

He wants to take you. 

He wants to load you up in the car and take you the short drive down the road to the beach. He wants to let you stand there in the sand, see the waves as they crash onto the shore. Hell, he’d let you walk into the water, let it soak your shoes and pants. Whatever you need to do, he’d let you do it. 

John would have his hide if he left with you like that. 

Simon would eat him alive. 

He won’t do that, though, mostly because he knows you wouldn’t be strong enough to make it down to the beach, nor stand there for a long period of time. Carrying you would be out of the question. You’d never let him that close. 

Instead he takes a gamble, getting as close as he dares as he slides open the door, stepping out into the cool morning. You don’t move, don’t even look up as he takes a seat in the chair next to you, the one Christine occupies when she’s out with you. He’d volunteered to watch you through the door to allow her some time to herself, something she hasn’t been getting much of. She’s been caring for you nearly 24/7, only getting breaks here and there while you sleep or nap, or on the rare occasion she trusts one of them to watch you. She never complains, but he knows she’s tired. Anyone would be after everything they’ve been through, after everything she’s had to see and experience over the last week and a half. 

It’s the least they can do, even if you won’t allow them to do more. They all wish they could. They wish they could ease some of your suffering, take some of the strain off of Christine’s shoulders. Kyle even went so far as to invite his sister to visit over for the weekend in hopes she might be able to lighten the load, and to see if you’ll allow her closer than you’re allowing them to get. 

He moves cautiously like he’s approaching a wild animal, not wanting to startle you and cause you more pain than you have been in. He can be a bull in a china shop, or he can be silent and deadly. He chooses something in the middle, making his footsteps just loud enough to be heard across the wooden planks of the porch, but he moves slowly enough he won’t startle you as he appears in your peripheral. 

Your gaze never leaves the horizon, focused and far away even as he takes a seat next to you. His mug of coffee is warm in his hands, fighting off the chill outside. It’s a natural response to the sudden temperature change after being inside in the warm house. He almost wishes he had his own blanket, but then again, he’s not sure he’ll be outside very long. 

He’s prepared for yelling, screaming, getting hit with your crutch as you tell him off, chasing him back inside. He’d almost prefer it over the eerie silence. He has to glance at you just to make sure you’re breathing, make sure the blanket is rising and falling over your chest. He follows your gaze out to the sea, sitting there silently as he gazes out at the dark blue water. Silence is hard for him. He can feel it throbbing in his ears, the ringing that fills his head when it’s quiet. He likes noise. He needs noise. 

He just wants to hear you speak again. 

He needs to hear you speak again. 

He wants to talk to you, he wants to say something, he wants to drop to his knees and beg forgiveness. He wants to feel your touch again, even if it’s just a brush of fingers across his hand. He wants to get something out of you, some kind of reaction. You’re an empty shell, a ghost of what you were. 

Tears fill his eyes as he stares out at the blue water. The silence is deafening as he sits there with you, still and quiet. 

He might as well be sitting alone. 

It’s the dead of night. The stars are out, or they would be if the clouds weren’t blocking them. It makes the world seem so much darker without their light. The fire is out, the curtains drawn closed. The only light is from the porch and the lights on the patio out back. The house is quiet, not even the hum of appliances filling the silence. 

Kyle’s breaths are quiet and even, finally asleep after laying awake for far too long. Their backs are turned towards each other, yet the double bed forces them close enough they can feel the warmth radiating from the other. It’s the only position they can sleep in, even if they’ve woken up cuddling a few times in the night. It’s almost as if their brains are subconsciously trying to force the bonds back, to force the healing. It’s as if their instincts are laughing at them for trying to deny what they want deep down. 

John lays there in the silence, his mind racing. He can’t sleep again for the fifth night in a row. He hasn’t been able to sleep since they left weeks ago on their mission to track down the missiles. No, it’s been longer than that. Not since you revealed the cameras to them. How long ago that seems now. How inconsequential it feels. If he knew back then what was going to happen, he would have changed a lot of things. 

You can’t undo what was done. You can only change what happens going forward. 

Things happened the way they happened. Now he has to make up for it. Now he has to prove himself not just as a capable alpha, but as a trustworthy human being. Your omega is screaming. He knows it. He had sensed it at dinner with your quiet sobs, the pain flooding your scent. He can still smell it, the sourness permeating his nostrils and sinking right into his brain. His alpha is still clawing at him angrily for just sitting there, for just letting it happen. 

Simon intervened. Simon saved you once again. 

He had barely comprehended the quick movement of Simon’s hand as he knocked the spoon out of your grip. He’d gotten soup on his hand, the droplets visible, yet he hadn’t moved as he sat there, letting it burn his skin. Better his than yours. He could almost hear Simon’s thoughts at that moment. 

What a good alpha Simon is. 

What a failure of an alpha John is. 

Your omega must be screaming in your mind, clawing at her cage. It’s almost like he can hear it rattling in his ears, reminding him of the pain he’s caused you. The pain brought on by his failures. 

Something is rattling in his ears, piercing through the silence. 

It is a scream. 

It’s your scream. 

NEXT ->

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[dark-and-kawaii]

Who would babytrap you out of the bg3 men 🙈

୨♡୧ Baby Trapping ୨♡୧

Halsin - Gale - Haarlep - Raphael - Gortash - Rolan

⋆˙⟡♡ Notes: Yes. Absolutely Yes. I got you babes xoxo

⋆˙⟡♡ NSFW | Breeding | Creampie | Baby Trapping

╰› Halsin’s obsession with you reached dangerous heights, fueled by a possessive jealousy that consumed his every thought. He knows the depths of his actions are morally wrong, but his desire for you overrides any rationality that remains within him. The way that other Druid looks at you, their eyes hungering for your body, it stirs an animalistic rage within Halsin.

Feigning urgency on important matters, deceiving both you and the unsuspecting Druid whom he pulled you away from, Halsin leads you deep into the forest, where his intentions come to fruition. Overwhelmed by his uncontrollable lust, he takes you forcefully, ravishing you until you're reduced to a quivering, moaning mess. The ecstasy of the moment blinds you as he spills his seed inside you without restraint, his desire to impregnate you driving him further.

Halsin wrestles with the weight of his actions, he knows it’s wrong to wish you pregnant like this, but the beast inside him demands otherwise. You, his chosen mate, his partner, you are his alone and he’ll make sure all the others know this.

╰› Haarlep is both possessive & greedy, always wanting more, especially if you’re Raphael’s little mouse. Haarlep’s not afraid to claim you as their toy if you’ve truly caught their attention. Through a combination of enchantment and manipulation the incubus ensnares you, captivating your senses and dominating your every thought. They exploit your deepest desires, using their irresistible allure to draw you deeper into their web of possession.

Your mind becomes foggy, a euphoric haze engulfing you, but it feels so damn good. The pleasure is intoxicating, so intense that the means by which it is achieved becomes inconsequential. All you crave is more. Haarlep's beautiful cock slides effortlessly into your eager depths, fitting you perfectly, as if it were the only thing that could ever satiate your desires. They make you yearn for their touch, their love, their vile seed. They use you as they please, taking what they desire from your body while painting your gummy walls white, leaving you begging, pleading for Haarlep to cum deep within Raphael’s precious little mouse, “P-please~ Cum n’inside Raphael’s s’little m-mouse!~”

By the time you come to your senses it’ll be too late. You’re nice and bloated with the creatures cum, they’ve claimed you, your body belongs to Haarlep now, and you will serve them well as the mother of their demon spawn.

╰› Raphael is filled with insecurities and has been his whole life but never dares show it. Not until you feel how how desperate his thrusts become, it’s almost pitiful. He’s so desperate to fill you with his offspring, it’s his way of proving to the infernal realms that he is the strongest, capable of producing the finest progeny to aid in his conquests and ruling.

Master manipulator, skilled at using his charm he'll make sure to bend your will to his desires, will purposely breakdown your defenses, prey upon your deepest fears and own insecurities, exploiting them to gain complete control over your body and soul.

“You need me,” is all he says, his eyes fixated on the way your tight cunt accommodates him with each forceful thrust. Each time he goes deeper and deeper causing you to whimper and clench his luxurious sheets… You can feel the bulge in your stomach each time the head of his shaft brushes against your cervix. It becomes evident that he places his ambitions and pleasure above all else, including your own needs and desires.

╰› Gortash deeply adores and values your presence, which is why he indulges in serving you drinks until you reach a delightful state of inebriation. Although you had expressed how you don’t wish to have another child, Gortash holds a different perspective on the matter. Not only has Bane compelled him to father more offspring, but Gortash himself yearns to create more beautiful children with you. And so, he will pursue that desire.

You hate how good it feels to have his cock filling you up, how euphoric and mind numbing it is. The alcohol in your system heightens the pleasure, it’s what has you creaming and cumming around Enver’s cock as he violates you, fucking you as if you wanted this. Gortash thrusts into you with a fervor that momentarily blurs the lines of consent, disregarding your wishes and capitalizing on the intoxication he facilitated.

"My dear, you are meant to grant me the joy of having the children I long for," he grunts. You attempt to shake your head, genuinely striving to communicate your objections, but the overwhelming pleasure drowns your attempts, leaving your mind awash in a sea of pleasure. He captures your lips in a possessive kiss, his desire evident in the intensity of his embrace, while his fingers dig into the softness of your thighs, marking you until you bleed. Finally, he releases a torrent of his cum deep within your fertile womb, leaving the possibility of new life to blossom within you.

╰› Rolan never really liked the idea of children, especially to sire his own. They were loud, smelly and a massive responsibility. However, once you came into his life that all began to change… Especially after your precious visit to Lorroakan’s tower… The way that man took hold of your hand and kissed the back of it as if he was paying homage to a queen or goddess made Rolan want to tear him apart limb from limb, his tail whipping back and forth.

That night something snapped within Rolan, the tiefling wanted nothing more than to make sure you were his, not that he feared of losing you or anything but it was as if his body needed to ensure that no other male could take you away. After all, who would want you if you were swollen with a “Hell spawn’s” child?

Rolan had never released himself inside you, so you were shocked when you felt a thick warm substance coating your insides as well as the his cock. You gasped at the feeling, looking back up at Rolan who was biting his lip, he didn't look at all fazed by this. No, instead he looked as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

Rolan held your hips tightly as he pulled out of you, a small bit of his cum escaping and sliding down your inner thigh before thrusting back inside you. one load wasn’t enough, he needed to be sure…

╰› Gale is obsessed with creampies and breeding along with the idea of you carrying his children. He becomes consumed by the singular desire to impregnate you, their beloved. The images that flood his mind of you and him walking around Waterdeep, his hand on your swollen belly, it drives him insane.

He’d tell you there’s nothing to fear, that he won’t cum within you, instead he’ll decorate your perfect tummy with his cum… Only for him to lie and actually release his seed against your cervix. His grunts fill the room along with false apologies.

The kind of man to spike your drink so you sleep soundly as he fucks you nice and deep. It only takes a few mere moments until he's cumming deep inside you. Don't worry, he always does his best to clean you up so you aren't suspicious. The next morning he'd feign concern when you awake drowsy not feeling the best, a new cup of tea awaiting you in his hands.

[multific]

Bounded by Hope

Lucius Verus Aurelius x Reader

Summary: You catch Lucius's eye as he fights in the Colosseum, his strength and resolve captivating you. Later that night, you sneak into the arena, where he confesses. 

The roar of the Colosseum still echoed in your ears as you lingered near the edges of the great arena that evening. 

You swore you could still hear the people cheer. 

Lucius had fought with unmatched skill earlier that day, you watched him closely, but it was the moment his eyes briefly met yours that sent your heart racing. 

You weren’t supposed to be there, but you had to be there just to see him.

The poet Gladiator. 

That was something you wanted to see.

Now, with the moon high in the sky and the city around you settling into sleep, you found yourself sneaking through the shadows, your heart pounding with both fear and anticipation.

The Colosseum was large, its arches surrounded by darkness. 

It wasn’t hard to find the gate leading to the fighters’ quarters; your feet seemed to move as if they knew the path.

“Who goes there?” a voice called softly from within.

You froze, gripping the cold metal bars. 

Lucius’s figure emerged from the shadows, his tunic loose and his hair messy. 

He had been resting, but his eyes were sharp as they fell upon you.

“It’s... just me,” you whispered, your voice soft and gentle.

“My Lady, you shouldn’t be here,” he murmured, stepping closer to you as his expression softened.

“And yet, here I am,” you replied, your fingers tightened around the bars. “I wished to see you.”

He moved closer to you, his eyes studied yours, his hands brushing against the bars opposite yours. 

“Why? Surely you know this is dangerous.”

“I saw you today, fighting in the arena. You were incredible. But it wasn’t just your skill, no, it was your heart that captured me. I’ve never seen anyone like you.” you admitted. 

He chuckled though there was a hint of bitterness in it. 

“A gladiator doesn’t usually receive such praise from someone like you, My Lady.”

“Don’t call me that,” you said quickly. “Not tonight. I’m just a woman standing before you, nothing more.”

“And I am just a man who fights because he must,” he said quietly. “But today... when I saw you, I felt something I hadn’t in a long time. Hope.” He said and leaned closer, the bars the only thing separating you. 

“Hope for what?” you felt your heart pounding in your chest.

“For freedom. For a life beyond these walls,” he said, his voice growing stronger. “For a chance to hold onto what I’ve seen in you.”

“Do you truly believe you can win your freedom?”

“I have to,” he said firmly. “Not just for myself, but for you.”

“For me?” you repeated, your voice barely above a whisper.

“If I win, I will leave this place, and I will find you. I will make you mine, if you’ll have me.” He said, his hands gripping the bars tightly now. 

Tears welled in your eyes, you didn't even know each other. Yet a simple look was enough for you both.

“You don’t have to fight for me, Hanno,” you said softly. “I would wait for you, no matter how long.”

“Please, call me Lucius. I must fight,” he insisted. “I must earn the right to stand beside you. I must become a man you are worthy of.”

The intensity in his voice left you speechless. 

You reached through the bars, your fingers brushing against his cheek. 

He closed his eyes at your touch, leaning into it as though it were the first kind thing he’d felt in years.

“Then fight,” you whispered. “But promise me you’ll be careful. Promise me you’ll come back. Promise you will make me yours”

He opened his eyes, locking them with yours once more. 

“I swear it,” he said. “For you, I will do anything.”

In that moment, the world around you disappeared. All that existed was him, and the bond growing between you. 

Both of you leaned in and you pressed your lips to his through the cold metal bars, the kiss was brief but filled with everything you couldn’t say.

When you pulled away, his gaze burned into yours. 

“I will see you again,” he promised.

“And I will wait for you Lucius,” you replied. "I must go now." you said as he nodded and you left just as you came.

As you walked back into the night, his words replayed in your mind. 

His vow will stay with you until the moment you see him again. 

Gladiator II Collection

Taglist: 

@castellandiangelo @imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl @manduse @jacalineiscomingforyou 

@mandoloriancookie @deliciousfestsalad @lilliumrorum @asgards-princess-of-mischief 

@fallout-girl219 @dracaryxzs @snowtargaryen @mel-vaz @akamitrani

~Masterlist~

ˇAO3ˇ

/YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO TRANSLATE, TO STEAL OR TO REPOST ANY OF MY WORKS TO THIS OR OTHER PLATFORMS/

[nikxlaii]

➽ 𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐒𝐓

☁ Pairing: Zhongli x gn!reader

☁ Category: Angst

☁Synopsis: He excludes you every time he's with her, and now he's living with the consequences of his actions, weighed down by their heavy toll.

☁ Note: It looks better in my head, lmao. I got back into writing after school ended. Still preparing for 12th grade, I'm scared. Good luck reading this. Let me know how it goes. 06/12/2024

Do you not see me?

You stood in the field of glaze lilies, the soft night breeze gently caressing your skin, a sense of isolation surrounded you. The silence was deafening, save for the voices of the divine beings before you, talking as if you were not there. It was as if they were lost in the charms of the evening, indifferent to your presence.

You knew that going with Morax was a foolish decision the moment you realized that the God of Dust, Guizhong, would also be there. You shouldn't have come, you shouldn't have gone. But your heart would not permit you to resist the urge to spend time with the man you've always loved, even though it may not have been the wisest course of action.

Despite the sinking feeling in your stomach, you couldn't let the chance of being with him slip through your fingers. Yet as the night wore on, a seed of doubt had started to take root within you, gnawing at your innermost thoughts. You now wish you had the foresight to realize that accompanying Morax wasn't the most commendable choice.

"Here," Guizhong, with a playful glint in her eye, reached down to pluck one of the glaze lilies dotting the ground, a sweet scent filling the evening air. With a sweet smile, she tucked the lily behind Morax's ear. "How nice it looks on you!" she exclaimed, her voice laced with amusement. Morax's eyes softened at Guizhong's sweet gesture as he smiled softly at her, an expression you'd never seen on his face before. It was clear that only Guizhong could bring that soft smile to Morax's stoic face.

You stood there watching them, a silent observer, as they talked to one another. Even what they're talking about is unknown to you, making you feel like nothing more than a passive object in the room. You bore witness to the way the man you loved gazes at her with yearning and adoration—a glance that you wish was aimed at you instead.

The sight was not one to behold, causing a deep and unrelenting pain to well up within the deepest reaches of your emotional being. It was a peculiar feeling that possessed you. It was as if a sense of resentment towards the goddess gradually seeped into your bones, permeating your very essence.

But how can you hate such an innocent god who has never actively done any harm? In particular to you? Nonetheless, deep down you can't help but wish she'd never come into his life. That he had chosen you instead of her, that it was you in his arms, the object of his desire. Yet you know it's a futile dream, for you two are incompatible, you are the god of war while he is the god of contracts, forever parted by the gulf between your natures.

Guizhong, being the epitome of refinement and grace, captivates all who lay eyes on her. Unlike you, the deity of battles, Guizhong was a wise, compassionate, and intelligent god who never harmed a single soul. Conversely, you nevertheless bore the scars of battle on your body. Your skin stained with blood from countless battles. You see why Morax is so captivated by her—she was everything that you weren't.

"Oh, I think it's best I leave for now. Perhaps we can meet another time?" You force the words past your lips, your voice a mixture of hurt and disappointment. You hug your arms tightly to your chest, waiting for a response from either the two of them, only to realize that they don't seem to care about your presence. They're too caught up in their own world, and you're not a part of it. Maybe it's best to leave them be.

That night marked the end of your presence in their lives. It was then that you knew that it was time to move on. You couldn't change the way things were, nor could you force Morax to love you. As difficult as it was, you had to accept that your relationship with him was not meant to be. So, with a heavy heart, you decided to leave, choosing to cut all ties and put the past behind you. It was the only way to find peace and move forward.

-

In a tragic turn of events, the Archon War raged on with no end in sight. The God of Dust lost her life in a fierce battle over the Guili Plains and perished amidst the Glaze Lilies, leaving behind a sea of sorrow in her wake, particularly for Morax. Imagine his grief when he lost her too. He should have known the impending doom that was about to happen, and maybe, just maybe, he would have saved her too. Everything was a massacre.

Despite the passing years, he never ceased his search for you, holding a faint glimmer of hope that you were still alive. Despite giving up his gnosis, his rulership, and the weight of responsibility that he's borne for millennia, his determination to find you remains steadfast. It's as if he's incapable of letting go of the notion that you're still out there, somewhere, waiting to be discovered. Perhaps the gnosis is now in the hands of the Fatui and has become their possession. He continues to look for you without ceasing.

Despite the selfish intentions behind his actions, he continued to search for you over and over again. He knew that he was to blame for your departure, as his behavior had led you to leave his life forever. Nevertheless, he persisted in trying to find you, driven by the guilt and regret that had filled his heart. He struggled to come to terms with the consequences of his actions, and the sadness that weighed upon him only continued to grow. All he could do was hope that somehow, someway, he could make amends.

But...

Would he ever see you again?

☁ Note: Zhongli, you selfish man, jkjk, I love you. No hate towards Guizhong! I love her so much. She's so cute. Who do you think is at fault here? Of course, me! for creating this.

[nerdyramennoodle]

Finished TMA, I know I rarely post but here's a WIP </3

Also here's my ratings and some thoughts I had...

💥SPOILERS💥

S1 8/10

Some of the best statements, slow start and wish we had more time with Sasha and Tim bc of how much we get later on, amazing finale episodes and the second half really picks up by the end I was captivated.

S2 9/10

Amazing starting to learn more lore, loved paranoid Jon and all the Martin stuff we get, the tunnel stuff was actually terrifying and this season really had a great motif with the supplementals idk wether to call this season one of the scariest or funniest. Also Daisy Basira and Melanie slowly becoming more relevant is amazing I love them so much! Also the pay off with Not!Sasha attacking Jon and the Elias reveal is amazing!

S3 10/10

Probably my favorite because of how many gems you get, Episode 100 being hilarious, Michael's backstory, learning Martin and Tim's reasons for getting the job, Tim's connection to the Stranger who has been built up as one of my favorite villians and being personified through Nikola AAHAHH I love this season sm. MY GIRL MELANIE getting so much more time, OMG and the trips Jon goes on to discover more about his connection to the Eye and all the different avatars! Ugh I could gush about this season for hours. The perfect mix of spooky and lore and funny with a tragic ending.

S4 9/10

Still amazing but is docked a point because of how much less Martin and Melanie time you get, also I've never been a fan of the coma trope and was getting skeptical at the beginning but it pays off alot, I love how much Daisy and Basira get here and how much Jon really changes, loosing Tim and essentially loosing Martin is really interesting for his charcter growth and this is the season you can really feel it and SEE it and it also sets up his hero complex he gets for next season, loosing Sasha and Tim really has an important effect on his character. Also they make it so believable how Jon starts to realize he has feelings for Martin and how much he misses him and all the moments you get of him mourning the friendship they had gotten in s3. It's a lot to explore and as much as I was skeptical at first the pay off with Jon changing sm and THE FINALE!! is really worth it. This season also has my personal favorite Finale of all the seasons.

S5 9.5/10

I won't write too much about s5 because I'm still digesting it bc it's alot, but I loved it! The way Jon and Martin's interactions are so realistic and fun to hear, and the impending doom, that you realize half way though, that one or both of them may die is crushing but great. This season also has more scary statments that didnt affect me as much in s4 more like s2 and 3 again. Also love all the stuff the girlies get, and along with s3 hurting my soul so much this season managed to bring me to tears twice, with Daisy, Jon and Martin RIP </3

Overall I love this series so much and I loved listening to it I might listen to protocol now but I need a small break ugh...

📼👁🦷🦴🫀🕸🐈‍⬛☁️

[lil13]

MAKEUP OR MAKEOUT? - j. champion

You're a new makeup artist, making your debut on Scream VI. Everything seemed to be going well until you were assigned Jack Champion, who always ran late and seemed to give you nothing but problems. You were stuck with the 6 foot something, curly-haired boy for the entirety of filming, spending all too much time together. Separately, you'd claimed each other as enemies, but as time goes on soft touches and fleeting glances become too much for the two of you.

•

June 2022, Scream VI, the start of your career as a makeup artist.

Honestly, you were shocked when you were offered the position. You were 17. It was crazy to think that a big name franchise would offer you, a minor, a position in makeup for their film.

The only downside was that you despised the actor you were put in charge of.

Jack Champion, the only other minor on the set.

The first day he showed up late, spouting out apologies. But every day since then he's been late and every day since then the apologies and excuses have gotten worse. And he couldn't sit still.

It's been a month and a half of this, now mid July. You all only about a month left. Couldn't Jack get his act together?

The door to the trailer swung open, "Late again, Champion." You mumbled, glancing down at your watch.

He scoffed, "I'm aware, thanks, Y/L/N."

You two solely referred to each other by your last names. It was fitting, your first names felt too personal for people who hated each other.

You'd heard Jack complaining to the others about how he wished he had a different makeup artist because his didn't talk to him. Which was a lie. You did talk to him, just clearly not as much as he wanted.

He was already wearing his costume for the day — jeans, a light blue polo, and a jacket with a plaid lining. You didn't want to admit he looked good in it. Especially when he slid the jacket off and it revealed how the polo perfectly defined his biceps.

Especially not that.

"How is your hair always curly but not curly at the same time?" You asked when he sat down, pulling out a spray bottle, mousse, and your diffuser.

His hair frustrated you. Jack had naturally curly hair, but you always had to work so long on it every day.

He shrugged, glancing up at you. "Dunno." You shielded his eyes when you sprayed the water.

But also so you didn't have to endure his chocolate brown eyes gazing into yours. They were dangerous.

"Well, figure it out." You mumbled again, brushing your fingers through his hair to disperse the water.

Then you sprayed the mousse in your hand, rubbing your hands together and then through his hair. You stood behind him, running the product through his hair and ignoring his gazes at your through the mirror. His hair was soft in your fingers and you had to bite back the thought of your hands being in his hair on different occasions.

That would never happen.

He was famous, you weren't. And you hated each other.

Sort of.

At first, the hatred was very real. Now, he more so just annoyed you. But he also intrigued you.

Damn, Jack Champion. Him and his perfect smile and captivating eyes.

"Stop staring at me." your thoughts left your mouth.

You immediately wished you could've taken it back, but turned on the diffuser to hopefully block out any response he gave.

But your wish for him to stop staring only made him stare more. You'd noticed him staring, so now he didn't have to hide it.

Finishing his hair only took a few more minutes. You dreaded the moment you turned off the diffuser, now he could talk and you'd hear him. But he stayed quiet.

He didn't need much makeup. The directors had asked for all actors to at least have on foundation, concealer, and powder. It would eliminate any blemishes or redness, making it to where they would film the same scene over many days and have their faces looks the same.

So, that's what you started.

Occasionally, as you were brushing on the products, your fingers would graze his skin. Or you'd lose your balance and your steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder chest. The touches were doing something to you, and, unbeknownst to you, they were also doing something to Jack.

You'd two had been stuck with each other for a month and a half. Everyday, you'd spend time together. You started every morning with Jack and would see him periodically throughout the day when you were needed for touch ups.

Occasionally, you'd have to run your fingers through his hair to fix the curls or brush more powder onto his face when he'd get sweaty or reapply the foundation whenever he'd inevitably wipe it off. The touches sometimes would end up being more intimate than either of you meant for them to be.

You were nearly done with his makeup when it came time for lip balm. Typically, you'd give it to Jack to apply since it was one applied with one's fingers, but today you did it yourself to speed up the process. You needed him to leave. Your mind was swirling.

His lips were separated as you ran your finger over them. You swore you heard him breathe in quickly when you started.

There was definitely no way you'd look at him now.

"You wanna know something, Y/N?" his voice quiet when you turned to wipe your fingers off from the lip balm.

"Mhmm."

"I stopped hating you a couple weeks ago."

You swallowed harshly. That's definitely not what you needed to hear.

"Me too." you whispered, scared to admit the truth.

You went to walk away, but were stopped when his hand caught your arm. Your eyes connected and a whimper slipped past your lips, betraying you, his chocolate brown eyes held an entirely different emotion than you'd ever seen before.

"Jack." his name came out more as a warning.

You two were so different.

Your lives would forever be one's that shouldn't intersect. You practically worked for him.

Jack decided to disregard your warning, his hand moving from your arm to the back of your neck, pulling you closer to him. With a sharp intake of breath, your lips connected.

And even though everything inside of you was warning you not to do this, to separate now and request a change of actors for the rest of filming to stay professional, you didn't want to. This, kissing Jack, felt so right.

Your knees went weak at the passion he put into the kiss. Jack noticed, his other hand guiding your hips so you'd sit on his lap. You were still in disbelief when you sat down, just barely on him, one hand on his chest and the other in his hair.

You didn't care that you'd have to touch up his makeup and fix his hair. You were practically making out with the actor you swore you hated.

A call came over the walkie talkie you had clipped to the waistband of your pants, letting all makeup and wardrobe know that the actors were needed on set. You were sure that that announcement was the only thing that caused your kiss to break. Both of you were breathless.

Your eyes locked with Jack's once more, both of you searching each other's for any hints of regret. But there was none.

You swallowed your nerves, "I, uh, need to touch up your hair and makeup." Jack fought back the smile on his lips at your nervousness.

Jack's hands on your hips stopped you from standing up. Your eyes finding his once more, this time widened in question.

"Sit here and do it, I want you close for as long as I can have you."

You obliged to his request. Leaning over to grab the makeup products you needed, his hands sliding you further on his lap so you wouldn't fall off. You could get used to this. Being with Jack, touching Jack, felt normal.

Your fingers fluffed up the back of his hair, the curls you'd played with while you kissed. And you touched up the makeup you'd smudged, reapplying the lip balm once more, the product you'd been applying when he'd decided to kiss you.

Then you stood up, sliding off of his legs. The boy stood up too, sliding his jacket back on and walking toward the door.

Only instead of leaving, he paused, swiftly walking back over to you and taking your face in his hands — pressing his lips against yours once more.

You silently cursed him as he left the trailer, but didn't fight your smile this time.

[fireboltposts]

Watching one of your favourite movies with your Stray Kids bias

A/N : B/N means bias' name. M/N means movie name. Gif credit goes to the owner of course.

• You and your B/N had planned a cozy movie night, and after debating which film to watch, you suggested M/N ,a classic that held a special place in your heart.

• (TMI : I'd imagine Jab We Met, a romantic Bollywood classic iykyk, but you imagine your favourite movie).

• B/N had never seen it before, but he was curious and excited, especially since you were so enthusiastic about it.

• He settled in next to you on the couch, a warm blanket draped over the both of you, the lights dimmed, and snacks within reach.

• As the movie started, you couldn't help but dive into explaining the characters, the humor, and the cultural context of certain scenes.

• B/N listened intently, eyes softening as he watched you animatedly describe your favorite parts, clearly captivated by how much you loved the film.

• M/N was well underway when the leading characters, started sharing their heartfelt conversations. You were engrossed, a dreamy smile on your face as you watched the lead characters’ chemistry unfold.

• You didn't notice the way B/N kept glancing at you with a gentle expression, his gaze lingering on your face rather than the screen.

• When a famous scene where the female lead yells something funny at the top of her lungs came up, you laughed, mimicking the line with full enthusiasm.

• B/N chuckled, admiring how your face lit up, though he felt a pang in his chest, wishing you’d know how special you were to him.

• As the movie progressed to the emotional scenes, you sighed, visibly touched. The raw emotions of the leads' journey hit close to home, and you could feel B/N’s presence beside you, grounding and warm. Without realizing it, you leaned your head on his shoulder, sighing as you became even more absorbed in the story for the millionth time.

• B/N froze, his heart beating faster as he felt the weight of your head against him. His gaze softened, and he carefully shifted to make you more comfortable without disturbing the moment. He looked down at you, taking in the peaceful expression on your face, wishing he could stay like this forever.

• During one of the romantic scenes, you sighed dreamily, muttering under your breath, "Imagine having someone who understands you like that…"

•B/N's heart skipped a beat. He wanted to tell you right then and there, "I could be that person… if only you knew." But he held back, afraid of breaking the tranquility of the moment. Instead, he whispered softly, almost as if he were speaking to himself, "Yeah… imagine. They could be closer than you think".

• "Oh really ? Do you know any dude who'd make me feel like that ? If so give me his number", you laughed. He faked a smile and sighed, why were you so oblivious.

•When the movie ended, you sat up, stretching and letting out a contented sigh. "Such a beautiful film, right?" you asked, looking at him with shining eyes.

• "Yeah," he replied, his voice soft and sincere. "But watching it with you made it even better."

• As you packed up the snacks and turned off the TV, B/N felt a tug of longing. But he also felt content, cherishing the quiet intimacy you two had shared, even if you didn’t realize how much it meant to him. Watching M/N together had only made him more certain of his feelings.

A/N : Do like, comment,reblog if you like it. You can find the rest of my masterlist here.

[sylusjinwoon]

{ 157 }

headfirst for halos.

yandere!jinwoo sung x fem.reader

warnings + disclaimers: obsessive behavior; dark content; i do not condone this behavior in real life, but in fiction, anything goes.

notes: reading solo leveling and seeing how hard jinwoo goes to protect his family and those that he loves-

it’s not impossible for him to have some yandere tendencies. i’ll try to write this to the best of my abilities, even though this really isn’t my strong suit ｡ﾟ(TヮT)ﾟ｡ this will be written for the anon that wishes to see me write for yandere!jinwoo... so i hope this meets your expectations...

{ well, let’s go back to the middle of the day that starts it all | i can’t begin to let you know just what i’m feeling. }

there she is, the girl that stole my heart the moment i first laid eyes on her.

my breathing comes out as uneven gasps, and i was actively struggling to breathe at the mere sight of her. along with my labored breaths, my heart could be felt pumping quickly, racing as my palms began to sweat the more i looked at her-

an almost crazed expression paints my features, eyes never straying too far away from that lovely woman. from my viewpoint, i could see that she was simply enjoying her day with a book in hand, taking casual sips of her coffee while running her hands through her hair.

and oh, how i long to sit across from her! to simply bask in her radiance while listening to the gentle sweetness of her voice...

but not yet.

i cannot approach such a perfect goddess just yet.

i still have not reached my full potential.

so, i'll simply stand right here, hidden within the shadows with my hood pulled over my face. from this point onwards, i will never allow my goddess to leave my sights-

"wait for me, my love."

{ ... }

the day sung jinwoo had confessed his feelings for you was the day you had labeled as being the best in your life.

after your meeting with the association's chairman, jinwoo had waited for you all while donning an expensive, black suit. in his hands was a bouquet of red roses, signifying his true intentions as he gifted you the precious blooms with a single statement.

"i am deeply in love with you, please, tell me that you'll be mine."

you thought nothing of the sheer desperation heard in his voice, finding yourself becoming captivated by the mere sight of him. and truly, could anyone really blame you for being so starstruck at the sight of him?

here was this perfect specimen of a man, with features that could rival any idol, and a body that was sculpted to perfection thanks to the many battles he had faced. neat locks of ebony hair falls perfectly across his face, with his full lips tilted up in an unassuming smile (let's not forget that adorable blush, too!)

within seconds, you held the bouquet of roses close to your chest while accepting his confession.

and just a few moments later was when you found yourself immediately brought into jinwoo's embrace. a gasp escapes from your lips as it felt as though he were crushing you to his chest-

like he wanted to somehow meld your body together with his-

your slight cry of pain was what ultimately makes jinwoo let go of you, eyes glowing a startling purple hue while looking down at your arms to see the roses he had purchased for you ruined as the thorns managed to pierce through the skin of your arms.

you swore you could never forget the look of utter devastation seen within his eyes, his apologies being repeated over and over again before taking the broken bouquet and smashing it to the ground with his feet.

"no no no, this was supposed to be the perfect day! the roses were meant to convey my deep and passionate love for you, but it ended up hurting you- i need to get rid of it, need to get rid of anything that harms you-"

by the end of his panicked rants, you were the one that had to calm him down, promising that you could heal yourself and that such a minor injury was no problem at all. you could see the look of pure relief reflected in his gaze as he squeezes your body to his chest once more, embracing you while standing over a broken bouquet of roses.

despite how strange it was, you were truly staring at him through rose-colored lenses, thinking nothing of it.

now that you were together with him for roughly 6 months now, you began to notice tiny details pertaining to jinwoo and his behavior when it came to you.

for starters, you had only been dating for a month when he practically demanded that you move in with him, successfully convincing you to terminate your lease with your current apartment while seducing you with promises of financial stability and a large penthouse to share with him.

"sarang, i know that you're a capable healer, but your earnings are no match for mine! please, let me take care of you."

despite not even dating for a year, you moved in with him anyways, allowing jinwoo to further spoil you.

along with his constant presence, you realized one other detail-

now, jinwoo owned a journal of some sort, seeming to write in that thick notebook on a near daily basis.

during the times you had seen him before you began dating, jinwoo had never once kept a diary. he appeared calm, cool, and collected, with his status as korea's latest s-rank hunter putting him to nearly famous heights. due to his growing fame, you figured he had no time to do such a mundane task.

yet now, without fail, he would never cease writing so furiously within the journal, only slamming the pages shut and stopping when you would walk into the room. you had a sneaking suspicion he was writing about you, but each time you asked about it, he would simply harden his gaze and give you a scowl.

"with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you. am i not allowed the privacy to write down my own thoughts?"

his biting words nearly makes the tears stream down your face, your apologies coming out into broken syllables. upon realizing that he has hurt your feelings, jinwoo would push himself away from the table, leaving behind his journal before comforting you by taking you in his arms.

"i'm sorry, i'm so so so sorry, your monarch didn't mean to make you cry. forgive me, my love?"

being comforted by his warmth and blinded by the sheer love you still had for him, you merely nodded your head in response, accepting his kiss as the gesture erased all of your thoughts pertaining to his journal.

and that was how your days typically went with your boyfriend.

he would take you out on dates and spoil you with gifts-

each time you were scheduled to attend a raid, he would take over and finish each dungeon solely on his own without even giving you and your team a chance-

and when nightfall came (when jinwoo believed you had fallen asleep), he would continue to write (with a strange fervor) within the pages of his journal until the early hours of the morning.

it wasn't until now that you decided to do something about your growing curiosity.

jinwoo was currently away on what you could only deem as a 'business trip.' the american branch of the hunter's association had reached out to him, and he would be gone for roughly a week-

leaving you alone within the confines of the penthouse.

your eyes were staring blankly at the television screen, not really paying attention to the show that was currently being aired. instead, your heart was pounding with anxiety, trailing your eyes towards the bedroom.

within your shared master bedroom, you were aware of the desk jinwoo kept against the wall, being filled with various paperwork and checkbooks that kept track of his earnings as a hunter-

and settled inside the desk was a locked compartment that you were certain his journal was kept hidden. you always saw the key to the drawer somewhere close to his body as an extra precaution to make sure that you would never be able to read its contents while he was away.

but truly, you were nothing if you didn't have some tenacity.

clasped within your hands were two needles that were going to serve as your tools for picking the lock within jinwoo's desk (and you could only hope that whatever shadow soldier he had placed within your shadow wouldn't alert him.)

you knew of the risks that came with unlocking the drawer-

however, you could not stop yourself.

with a determined expression, you swiftly head towards your room, turning on the lights before marching towards jinwoo's desk. kneeling before it, you place the two, slender needles within the keyhole all while gently maneuvering it-

you bring the needles closer together within the keyhole-

then proceed to turn it around just a little bit more-

only to let out a surprised gasp upon hearing something click.

the two needles remain rooted in place when you managed to open the drawer, seeing jinwoo's diary settled within the deep confines of its space. as your hands lean down to grab it, the sudden memory of his ice cold gaze and voice dripping with fury stops you-

with all due respect, this has nothing to do with you.

your breathing comes out as labored, with your heart felt twisting just the tiniest bit in anxiety-

but sadly, your curiosity had won, taking over as you extracted the diary from the safety of the drawer before opening the cover to its first page-

making you regret it instantly.

for what lay before you was pure and utter darkness-

may 6, 16:41 she's mine. she's finally mine! the woman i have longed for- the woman who has saved me when i was a mere e-rank hunter accepted my flower and my love. now she is mine to hold. mine to love. mine to cherish for all eternity. my heart feel so happy, so free. today is truly the best day of my life. SHE'S FINALLY MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE MINE....

june 7, 12:42 i asked my soulmate to move in with me today, yet felt ANNOYED at the slight hesitance in her gaze. she has no right to refuse me! here i am, spoiling her with everything she could possibly want and need, yet she still wants to live in a space AWAY FROM ME? unacceptable. i refuse to tolerate her defiance. if she loves me, she'll cut off her lease and be with me. only i can give her what she wants- ONLY I CAN GIVE HER WHAT SHE NEEDS. despite my anger that was felt mounting, i manage to calm down and speak to her with my normal tone, making sure that it was honey sweet while coaxing her, promising her that i will take care of her and provide her everything that she needs. and oh, i truly am so lucky! she agreed to move in with me by the end of the day. life cannot get any better than this.

june 9, 0250 i couldn't help myself- the moment she lay in my bed, i made love to her. i perfectly slotted myself between the softness of her thighs while basking in her warmth. i can feel myself getting harder at the memory. fuck, i need her. despite taking her for several hours, i can't get enough of her. i'll finish up this entry and place my hands between her slick sweetness- don't worry, i'll make sure she's awake and needy for me so that i can look back at this entry and smile at the memory. I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE I WILL FOREVER MARK HER AS MINE

august 18, 20:00 that damn hunter keeps bothering her again, shamelessly flirting with her while constantly begging her to heal him. i bet he wants her. i bet he has thoughts of fucking her. why else does he keep leading her hands toward his shoulder like that? and why are his eyes shining with lust for her like that? i'm going to have to teach him a lesson- after all, my love doesn't know any better, so there's no way i could ever punish her. it's my duty to protect her. to save her from all men that wish to use her- ah, he's here. i'll end my entry for now.

after reading those few entries, your head began to spin, recalling each of those days with perfect clarity. after those entries, jinwoo seemed to lose all coherent thoughts, spending the next hundred of pages detailing your every activity-

from how you slept-

to what you wore-

even going down to such minuscule details like what you had for your meals and what you were constantly doing marked by the hours-

and now, you had context for the sudden disappearance of the hunter you had healed all those months ago-

nausea was felt coursing through your veins as you shoved the journal away from you, running into the bathroom as you threw up the contents of your breakfast and lunch into the porcelain toilet. even when your stomach was emptied of its contents, you kept on dry heaving, trying to get rid of the sourness felt deep inside of you.

time passes seemingly in a sluggish manner, with you flushing the toilet before crawling out of the bathroom. when you tried to stand back to your full height, a wave of dizziness hits you-

but one thought still remains-

i need to get out of here!

those words were what ultimately pushes you forward, with your uneven breaths filling at the air as your feet pounded against the floors, about to reach the front door when a sudden shift was felt in the air.

"i knew that it was best for me to save my shadow exchange for moments like this."

a silent scream escapes from your parted lips when jinwoo suddenly appears before you. he simply holds your arms tightly within his hands, not even using his full strength when he manages to fully apprehend you.

tears stream down your face as you actively fought against him, but to no avail...

all you managed to do was further tire yourself out, slumping back down to the floors as jinwoo coos at you, using his full weight against you while bearing you down against the cold, hardwood floors.

"it's okay... it's okay... i'm not mad at you for reading my most private thoughts. in fact, i WANTED you to read them someday! that way, you will know the full extent of my pure love and devotion to you!"

your tears were trailing down your face in cascades now, the sobs wracking through your body with such visceral and potent fear that violent tremors began taking over your form from beneath him. yet still, jinwoo keep staring down at you with those glowing, violet gaze, never once looking away from you.

"you're mine..." he says your name in a bit of a drunken haze, "it doesn't matter how you feel about me now, because i'm never letting you go!"

crazed laughter echoes throughout the area, with jinwoo drowning out your sobs and cries for help by kissing your lips deeply-

in mere seconds, the rose-colored lens had finally shattered the moment you tasted something coppery and bitter from within his lips...

a.n. - while re-reading solo leveling, the panel used as the preview of my story genuinely scared me, which was what further solidified mine and everyone else's belief in the yandere potential he had 😭

all stories are written by rei; reposts, translations, and plagiarism are not allowed.

[brainrotbabe24]

Okay HELLOOO so i wanna request Thorins company with a reader who is very feminine and pretty and stuff, but simultaneously very bossy, assertive, dominant and likes telling people what to do and stuff?? If that makes sense lol

Have a good day/night!!!

HI!! This was such a fun one to write! I'm not sure if it answers the questions correctly, but I just got lost in the sauce with this one and went crazy, lol 💖😂

Balin: Balin admires your assertiveness. He finds it very fitting for you to be in command with your no-bullshit, bossy attitude. Balin would regularly turn to you for support, and he always trusted your honest opinions. He saw you as his advisor when he advises Thorin. Plus, your appearance only adds to your ability to persuade others…who could say no to those beautiful eyes. To him, you are a double threat—both in personality and looks—who can command respect and loyalty from anyone.

Dwalin: Dwalin is in love. The moment you started leading the group and demanding respect, he was captivated. Not to mention, your looks took his breath away. He loves a dominant, commanding presence who can lead a group, demand attention, and know their way around a weapon. *wink wink* Dwalin will always have your back, just as you have his. To him, you are an incredibly capable person.

Óin: Oin is glad you can handle yourself. The second you joined the group, he feared you might need constant protection, but you quickly proved him wrong. You instantly became an influential part of the group, guiding Thorin's decisions, earning the trust and respect of the group, and even outshining some of the most seasoned warriors. Your presence reassured Óin that you were vital to their mission.

Glóin: Link Oin, Gloin had doubts but was quickly shut up when he saw you fight. Your skills…your knowledge… your command. You dominated the battlefield, earning his respect. Even with blood splattered all over you, you were still gorgeous. Since then, Glóin has been ready to drop everything and listen to you, knowing you are someone worth following.

Bifur: Bifur is inspired by your assertive personality. You don't address the group broadly; instead, you call out each person, demand perfection, and engage in personal, intimate conversations. You look at each one of them as their own person. He likes that you take charge while ensuring everyone is seen and valued. You inspire him and make his heart soar whenever you call out his name with a wink.

Bofur: Bofur is lost in your beauty. He can barely focus on what you say when his mind drifts to how soft your lips look when bossing around the group. How your brow furrows when something isn't up to your standards. How you let your guard down just a little when someone compliments you. His mouth goes dry, and his knees are weak whenever he's near you, lost in admiration. Sadly, your commands are lost to him.

Bombur: Bombur is scared of you. You are one wickley, intimidating person. Your commanding presence and fiery attitude make him cautious not to cross your path. However, he can't help but steal glances, admiring how the sunlight dances on your skin.  Although he is scared, he starts to think he might have misunderstood you. Maybe there is more to you than a bossy attitude—he might even start looking up to you. 

Ori: Ori finds your personality and appearance to be a sick joke. How could someone some sweet, so tender, so feminine bark such harsh orders? He is caught between feeling like he must listen to you and listening to his brother, Dori, who seems to contradict everything you say. Ori is lost but knows that all he wants is to follow you, even if it means going against his brother's wishes.

Dori: Dori is confused and conflicted about you. He feels like he should dislike you and how you boss people around, especially his brothers. But at the same time, he can't help but admire you and how you can control situations, get his brothers to listen, and cooperate. It's a love-hate relationship for Dori, as he both resents and respects your ability to lead.

Nori: Nori grumbles whenever he hears your commanding voice directing the company. He hates being told what to do. He hates how your face will twist into a smirk when he jokes with you, and you already have a comeback set up.  He hates your soft smile, and he hates that he loves hearing you say his name. But he especially hates it when he finds himself obeying your commands without hesitation. Hate is a strong word for Nori…he just hates how you make him feel. Yet he could never fully hate you—not when you look like a perfect creation of Aulë, as beautiful as Yavanna herself.

Thorin: It's complicated. Thorin constantly feels like he is competing with you, as if you're planning to undermine him at any moment. He glares, snarls, and pushes past you, rejecting your demands. Yet, there is one thing he is a complete bumbling idiot about—your laugh. The way you laugh is dangerous. It's infectious, bold, and handsome, and it takes his breath away. Despite all the tension and jealousy, when you laugh, Thorin feels safe, and all his competitive instincts vanish.

Fíli: "Yes, mommy!" Fili is utterly devoted to you. Your commanding orders make his heart race, and your beauty leaves him blushing. He often finds himself staring, and when your eyes lock, he waits eagerly for your sass —he craves it. Fili would do anything for you. He would get on his knees for you, worship you, even die for you.

Kíli: Kili can be a bit of a brat when it comes to your authority. He laughs at the way you hold yourself, demanding respect and directing the group to do things. Pfft. He practically hates it, wanting to prove that he's your equal. But when you snap back at him and grab his shirt, he finds himself caving. "I'm not listening to you," he might say, but the moment you respond with, "I'll make you listen, Kíli," he's putty in your hands.

Bilbo: Biblo is a little ass. The first time he met you, he thought you were a perfect copy of Thorin. Both of you are beautiful, alluring yet domineering and controlling. He rolls his eyes at your bossy attitude. But over time, Bilbo starts to realize how utterly wrong he is. He sees you as protective, loving, and a material figure for the group. His initial distaste and sass fades, and he soon comes to see you as his rock. He needs that when all seems to go to hell during the journey. 

Gandalf: Gandalf trusts you completely. He knows that with you around, the group is in good hands, which is why he leaves so much in the movies. Your skills and wit speak for themselves. You're quick to take charge in high-intensity situations, yet your feminine side allows for more compassionate, loving care. Gandalf wouldn't have come to you for help on this important quest unless he trusted you to keep the dwarves in line.

[the-monkeies-girl]

Well.. since all we have to do is ask.. could we get an imagine with Owen where he and reader have been long time friends with secret feelings… maybe throw some angst in there, and then at the end they tell each other and we get a cute makeout sesh or something? 🫣🫣🫣

Authors Note: holy self-indulgence batman. I usually don't write stuff like this but let's give it a whirl. If it's not your thing, then just scoot along.

Title: Monkeying Around. Words: 4.2K+ Pairing: Owen Teague x Reader. Summary: You and he were best friends. What happens when he goes to Australia to film a little movie we all know and love? Taking place in 2022-2023. ** THIS IS PART ONE, THERE WILL BE A PART TWO IF ENOUGH INTEREST IS SHOWN ** Reblogs, likes and comments are always appreciated! Show support for fanfic writers!

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“Oh my god,” You laughed, clutching your phone that much tighter as you tossed your head back in amusement at what had popped up on the screen upon accepting the FaceTime from your best friend. His face was always refreshing to see; the crisp white nature of his t-shirt balancing off the darkened nature of his eyebrows and his--- You blinked, sitting up a bit with a stammer, “Owen, y-... Your hair, what happened?”

You could hear the sigh he gave through your headphones, wishing nothing more than to have him beside you to cause the hot breath that accompanied it against your shoulder. Slowly, you admired the way that his lanky wrist rubbed the back of his head, feeling the pricking of shorter hair between his long fingers as Owen muttered.

“They had to cut it for the uh… Suits. You know,” Drifting his hand forward, there was a delicately placed motion in front of the striking features he held, your vision coated with his thinned ulna and radius along with the splay of long digits. No rings or bracelets against his skin, you drew your bottom lip in, probably for filming… Your mind was quick to deduce a reasoning.

Your heart fluttered a small bit at the smile that tore against his features when Owen rested his hand back down after charading to you in silence that he meant the suit that fit on his head with the camera attached for the film he was working on and you heard the shuffle as he held his phone more sturdily and sat back on what appeared to be a bed. “The head piece, it’s gotta fit. My hair was in the way! I told them not to--- I said ‘You can’t do this, my best friend in the whole wide world--- she’s gonna kill me if I cut any of it off’.”

“You’re bald.”

“I still have some hair! Just not… A whole lot.” Playfully defending himself, Owen drifted his tongue along the front of his teeth and felt his lips pull into a smirk at your reaction. You cackled almost manically and garnered yourself a laugh from him. Slowly, your smile dissipated into nothing more than a mirrored reflection of how Owen looked. Solemn around the edges as you both stared at each other through a screen, peeking in at 10,000 miles apart from each other. It was light there, abundantly so as the timezone shifted greatly. Morning for him now, it was cusped around the evening for you back in the States and the sun would begin its departure soon and Owen would have to leave.. You would… Have to let him.

There was a small sinking in your stomach at that. There was nothing you could do to get Owen to stay, you knew now as it had been a month into filming and the schedule for him seemed so tedious. It probably was, given much of what he was doing was considered physical workouts at times.

 “Does it feel weird?” There was a drull nature to your tone as you shifted your body upwards to prop against your bed frame with a small grunt.

“Kinda refreshing.”

Earnest honesty was the way to go as Owen flashed that boyish grin that only until recently with him being gone did you realize that you missed greatly. The way it would shift from innocent to absolute terror filled in a matter of moments when he thought of something devious was captivating, the strong brow ridge was formidable now that Owen had grown a bit more you wanted nothing more than to caress with your finger tips, a strong mouth… You pouted to yourself at the feeling rising against the back of your neck.

When… did this become… Not friendly anymore…? Something… Deeper.. All things about him you expected to miss, he was your best friend but this… Owen… You missed, drawing your pointer finger against the case of your phone. “Won’t be for long, you know?” He must have seen the look on your face as you attempted to smile, “Hair grows back. It’ll be back to normal in a few weeks, I wanna bet it’ll be back to normal length when I come home.” “You just look so different,” Swallowing hard, you sat up a bit more so Owen was able to see your face properly instead of at an acutely unflattering angle. “Probably that Ape School. Got in your head, huh? Hoo-hoo.” There was piqued interest in how Owen laughed at that, baring his teeth for you and only you in the moment as he nodded in agreement.

“That’s… gonna take me a long time to get out of my head, I tell ya.” Owen huffed, “I’m gonna chase after you. I’m planning on taking the stilts they have me using when I need to move on all fours---”

“I will never forgive you if you chase after me as a monkey.”

“Not monkey,” Owen corrected you with a smug smile as he brought the camera closer to his face. Blessing you with a comedic angle that was facing upwards into his nose, you were finally beckoned to laugh wholeheartedly, “They’re called Apes, (Name).”

“Sorry, Monkey boy---” You popped your mouth as Owen chuckled deeply in his chest, the reverb itself attractive and you wanted to hear it in your ear. “Ape Man, more like it.”

“I’ll be the Ape Man to your Ape Woman.” 

“Think you can get me tuition to Ape School to start my training? I can book a flight to Australia---” “I’ll book the flight for you!” He joked, hearing a soft pattering against the door of his room. “Shit. I gotta go. Filming starts in thirty and we still gotta drive to the studio---” “Go, Ape Man.” There was an attempt to hide the disappointment in your voice but Owen was able to hear it as if you were already crying. He looked at the screen for a second longer than was needed, seeing the tear of your mouth from a smile into a mild frown. Not usually noticeable, but… He knew you well enough. Hell, being friends all these years, Owen probably knew you better than you knew yourself at times but… That wasn’t the point here as he heard Lydia and Travis chattering by the door, another knock ensuing.

He wanted nothing more in the moment than to sit and talk for hours like you two had done so many times before, occasionally even into the later hours of the morning. It took a lot to convince his mom to even let you stay in his bedroom, let alone that late but Owen managed. But there you were. Thousands upon thousands of miles away without him. He brisked you a slight half-smile that did nothing to reassure either of you.

“I’ll talk to you later, Ape Woman.”

“I’ll probably be asleep when you’re---”

“I’ll blow your phone up if you don’t answer me.” Owen chuffed, amused at the grin you gave him as your finger hovered over the end button to cut the call short. It pained you, always but it was better than letting him hang up on you. Anything… Was better than that.

“You better, Teague.”

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‘Flight lands at 3. Will you be here with mom and dad to pick me up?’

You stared at the text from your best friend, glancing longingly at the name ‘Owen’ accompanied by the monkey emoji. Fingers flicked against each other as you drew your laptop to a slow close and tucked your phone into the familiar stance of your hands. Hovering above the letters, you contemplated the answer. Months seemed to fly by without worry.

From October, into November… December… Two more and it was now nearing the beginning of March and the sensation of loss was right around the corner at the lack of contact that the two of you were at no fault for. Owen was busy, you understood that. Withdrawing was your way of letting him deal and do what he needed without you constantly pestering him. It was your choice as your fingers tapped a quick response, setting the phone down ardently face down as to not linger on it.

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‘Can’t. Busy with work. I’ll swing by when you get home.’

Owen’s blue-ish eyes stared at the message in a deepened state of dissatisfaction. That… Was not an answer he was expecting as his thinned thumbs tapped away at a response. Anything that made sense, his mind fluttering with sudden onset worry that you were mad at him. Why would you though? He’d done nothing wrong--- In fact, he was coming home so why weren’t you more excited? That was selfish, he thought to himself and drew a deep breath in, the rattling against his collarbones unexplainable. Reckon, there had been days where you two weren’t speaking. Owen’s thumb shifted upwards to look at the shared messages between the two of you, seeing more blue on his side than seeing any responses from you. 

Memes were Owen’s way of going around it, a few pictures sliding against his gaze as he clicked his phone shut, peering out the window of the airport. You’d been pulling away for months now. No doubt it coincided with his filming schedule and the proof was right there on the screen of his device. Lack of responses, you eventually even stopped reacting with the laughing emoji to the pictures he sent on set, fully garbed in his lyca suit and motion-capture camera. Not allowed, but Owen managed to sneak a few for your viewing pleasure. What was he expecting in the first place? Your undivided attention like you were his? You were just his best friend! Best… Friend… 

Eyelids slid shut. There was a small worry in his mind… What… If you found someone during that time? A boyfriend, he seethed inside of his own mind Sure, it was only a few months but you were well--- Owen tapped his phone against his thigh and sighed again, this one more melancholy than the last as he had no idea where this onset of feelings truly came from. You were you and he had no doubt that there’d be a line waiting as if he were first in it. 

He needed to say something. Anything.

Looking at his phone once more, he deleted the previous message. The ‘I miss you’ Owen longed to send in favor of a less drastic approach. Something… Less desperate, he hoped. 

‘Dinner is at 6. Mom is making my favorite ;) If you wanted to swing by.’

Owen left it open. Tapping send, he hoped… The hook at the end would garner him a monkey joke. Anything from you that wasn’t stagnant.

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“(Name)!”

Groaning softly, you rolled onto your side and peeped your eyes open for only a split second before they rested back shut. That voice… Your mom… She could wait, you decided and rolled back onto your stomach, face flattening into your pillow with a sigh of contentment. There was nothing quite like an afternoon nap. Well… From the darkness against your eyelids, you figured it was seeping into the evening time but that didn't matter as you tugged your blanket closer to your body. You’d sleep the rest of the night given the chance, better than picking up your phone and having to see what you would assume to be a bombardment of texts and maybe even a call from Owen. 

“(Name), if you don’t get out here I’m going to---” “What do you want!?” You snapped at your own mother, tugging yourself out of bed in a flurry and nearly slamming your door open as a result. “I’m trying to sle---” Peering down the hallway, you felt a small amount of shell-shock hit you at the lanky frame you were so incredibly familiar with. From the tear of the shoulders inwards to make himself appear even smaller, the long casing of his arms… The tousled hair and pursed mouth. Smacking your lips, you held up a hand and muttered hazily, “I’m still sleeping, that’s what this is.” Nodding at that, you trudged a hand through your messy hair and turned back to go into your room.

“Owen just stopped by to say hello!” Stiffening at his name, you rolled your shoulders and looked over your right one at the body standing next to your mom. “He’s been gone for so long, (Name), why didn't you tell me he was coming over?” There was nothing quite like getting scolded from her when you were still half-asleep though the other times she did this were often due to you not cleaning your room when you were younger. Go figure, you said sarcastically in your mind and reached up to rub your tired eyes.

“I---” Stammering once more, you held up your hand defensively in front of you and trailed down the small hallway into the ambient light of the living room. You ogled at him, no shame resting in your gaze as you started at his feet… All the way up Owen’s long and thin legs, the tapering of his waist the actual epitome of dreamy and the way his shoulders cascaded with strength you had not realized he garnered from his time in Ape School.

That was only noticeable up close and the shine of the necklace around his neck captivated your attention for a few moments to look at where his collar bones fused together under the otherwise pale and smooth skin you felt would be burning under your touch.  He was here. Actually… Here… Why? 

“I uh--- Sorry, mom. I must have… forgotten to tell you and I fell asleep---”

“See, I told you she fell asleep.” Owen told your mom with such a linen of recognition. You mom knew him as your best friend, after all. They were cordial and kind, friendly even as your mom constantly pestered you at times that he was single and you were single thus it made sense to want to date. 

Adamantly, that was torn down when you told her you had no interest. Owen was… Just a friend, your best friend that you lost contact with over the last few months, even now as Owen was looking over at you with what could be described as aggravated skeptical agreement, pointing at your mom with his eyes. ‘Just go along with it’, his expression said.

He was covering for you, you realized and laughed in the back of your throat at that. It was like no time had passed and Owen was chattering to your mom in the charismatic way he did in order to get himself into your bedroom with the door shut. Nothing would happen, he was always so assuring to her and even in this moment, you swallowed hard at the pat he gave your mom on her back. 

“Always sleeping, can’t even reply to my texts sometimes. You don’t mind if we go talk? I haven’t seen her in months, wanna tell her all about Australia.” His words were biting and unexpected as you crossed your arms in front of your chest.

Your mom looked at you and then back towards Owen with a smile, “Of course. Come over for dinner sometime and tell us all about it as well, I’m sure (Name)’s Father is interested in how big the spiders are down there.”

Owen playfully held his hand up and made a circle shape, “They’re huge.” Was said in passing as his taller body passed your mom and followed you closely to your bedroom. 

Your mouth flew open the second your bedroom door shut. “Why’re you here? I was really enjoying my na---”

“What a way to greet your best friend of all time upon his arrival from down under,” There was a faux accent placed on the last two words as you gave him a quirky grin. “I invited you to my coming-home dinner and you just left me hanging---” You groaned softly, bringing a hand upwards against your forehead to rub it tenderly. “I was taking a nap.” Truth. “I didn't even see your message!” Not so much the truth. “Liar,” The dark haired blond snapped at you with confidence and a smug smirk. He was right, you realized and gazed yearningly at the crown of his skull as Owen turned in your room so he was facing you properly, eyes lingering around the walls that held so many memories for the two of you from high school. His hair… Grew back. Not as long as when he left, but it was propped beautifully up and the mused tangles dug their greedy claws into you and you wanted to see how soft it was. You were just tired, you pushed that down and swallowed hard. 

“You have read notifications on, (Name).” Mentally, you slapped your forehead and looked off to the side, turning on the light to a lower hue so it wasn’t blinding you. Vaguely, you gave him a gesture to sit at the bottom of your bed as you crawled your body in and plopped down. A familiar position, this was how you two sat when in deep conversations with each other during the late nights of the summers. Sometimes, Owen would even sit beside you instead, letting his bony shoulder play against yours as you both fumbled over laughter. 

“Okay, so I read it and then I fell back asleep. You should--- Be with your parents, you just got home! I’m sure they miss you---” “Why weren’t you replying to my texts while I was gone?” “Oh my god, Owen.” Rolling onto your stomach, you pressed your face into the pillow once more. “Can I please fall back asleep and this is all just a nightmare?” Your voice was muffled as you felt the shift on your mattress and when you turned your head to peek, Owen was sitting beside you, nearly half off the bed as you were spread out, limbs flared outwards comfortably. “‘M sorry, I didn't mean that.”

“So, I’m the stuff of nightmares?” He joked and tilted his body against your own as you let out a small groan of approval at the sudden wash of body weight. It was hard to resist the small smile that played at your mouth, satisfaction falling on Owen for getting you to do that. “I don’t like being woken up---” “I considered just coming back, your mom was yelling for you though---”

That made you laugh hard as you cased your expression into the pillow again with a meager nod. 

“I was gonna come by tomorrow, honestly… I--- Just wanted to see you. It’s been months, (Name).” “I told you I was busy with wor---”

“I was the one busy with work, you think I don’t know what you were doing?” “Oh wise one,” You snorted and turned your head once more to look at him, your neck wrinkling with the unnatural movement, “Tell me, what was I doing that I wasn’t aware of?” “Am I a fortune teller now? I must have forgotten my ball in my other pair of pants,” Sarcastically, he rolled the beautiful rounded nature of his eyes and dropped his shoulders in comfort of there being some semblance of fun loving camaraderie between you two despite the small passage of time. “You were ignoring me!” “Was not!” “Even my sweet memes, you were ignoring all of them.” Owen placed a hand onto his chest to feign hurt and devastation. “The memes were aiight.”

“What about the pictures I sent from the set? You know I broke a big Disney rule sending those.” He teased, watching as you readjusted and placed a hand near your face. Lightly, you watched nearly cross eyed as Owen tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear, the silver of his bracelet bouncing off what light was in your bedroom.

“They’re going to punish you for sending all that goodness in a lyca suit.” You raised eyebrows suggestively. 

“Not much goodness to be had, you should have seen Kevin Durand. Absolute madhouse. Big and buff,” Owen puffed out his chest and you laughed gently with the action, “I’m just… Me.”

“You’ll be a lot more when the movie comes out, you know. Even if you’re playing a monkey.”

“Ape.” “Will your Ape self be buff?” Owen smiled at you, cheekily at first before it touched back into reminiscence. He missed you and your comments. He missed the interactions despite forming great bonds with his co-stars while abroad. Nodding slightly, he turned his body to face you more head-on and you were catapulted into panic as your line of vision was almost thrusted directly onto his crotch. Nervously, you dragged your eyes upwards at the sound of his voice and watched his Adam's apple bob, “Why do you ask? You gonna have a big crush on him if he is?” “Maybe.” You snickered, rolling onto your back and gazing up at him with tenderness. 

Owen gasped dramatically, “I come back from Australia and you have a thing for furry Apes?” “Not when you put it like that!” Sniffling softly, you shut your eyes tentatively and drew a deep breath in, relishing in how it felt to be suffocated before exhaling sharply. “Maybe I’ll be just like everyone else and have a big crush on the actor instead. Remember the phase I went through with Andy Serkis? Same thing!”

“Well, in your defense, you could pull Andy Serkis any day.” Owen said confidently, throwing himself into self-doubt without care. 

“I’m glad you think that. I literally look like hot trash right now. I--- Would have gotten dressed up if I knew you were going to come over.”

“Leggings and a shirt are enough for me.” Owen admitted quietly, “Y’know I don’t really like all the glitz and glam. Makes me uncomfortable…” “The irony.” You teased, “Being an actor and such.” “That’s what’s so great about the role! I… can still walk down the street and act like a normal person. No one is seeing my face and no one is looking for me! Paparazzi who?” He admitted in a hushed tone to you, almost cusping around a whisper as if he were telling you a deep secret, “I don’t like that. I wanna still be able to come here…” He looked down at you with eyes that appeared more green in the ambience of the room, “Without anyone following me or speculating about what is going on. If anything… were to… go on.” 

“I don’t understand what you’re saying Owen.” You swallowed hard again, this time it got stuck in your chest. “You leave for a few months and come back all cryptic? What brainwashing did Disney do to you?” That was meant as a joke but as you fluttered your eyes back towards him, you felt a sinking in your chest. His expression was torn clearly into two camps. One of contemplation that rode against his strong brows and one of self-deprecation from the way that he was biting at his bottom lip. “Seriously, are you okay? You’re not jet lagged or…”

“Nahhh, I’m alright,” The man said next to you and lightly nudged you with three of his long fingers, “Just… Missed home, you know? You go off to pretend to be someone else. A completely different species and you start to miss home. Start to miss parts of yourself you didn't know were so important.”

“Australia turned you into a philosopher.” 

“I’m serious, (Name)!” Owen laughed ardently. Not at you. Never… At you but at the implications that your words made him sensationalize. They always did say that distance made the heart grow fonder, was that too philosophical to say to you? Would you understand what he meant? “Things…. Changed while I was there and I’m not sure I’m ready for that.” “Y’know you’ll always have me, Teague. I’m like a wart that won’t go away.”

“Right between my toes.” He played off you with such ease and felt a twisting inside of his stomach as he drew the fingers he had nudged you with down your forearm and to the bare skin closer to your wrist. “Things are gonna… Change. I’m going to have to do a press tour for this next year and then the premieres. It’s in my contract for me to be gone a lot…” Owen wasn’t sure if this was allotted information to share or not but there was no care, “I freaked out… On the way home thinking you hated me or something---” “Owen, you nee---” “I just… Wanna make sure when I get done with all of this, this whole… thing,” He gestured rather vaguely much like you had done earlier with his long arms, “That you’re still gonna be here cheering me on.”

“I’m your own personal cheerleader, you know that! I helped you keep your hair dyed when you did IT---” “This is different.”

Lifting yourself up, Owen broke the subtle contact he had around your gentle wrist and brought his hands back into his lap, watching out of his peripheral as you propped into a seated, cross legged position. “Seriously, are you okay? You sound like a crazy---” “Think I am jet lagged. Those fourteen hours are killer.” Owen deflected with a strangled laugh and stood up slowly, “Should get home. Get some sleep… In my bed.”

“Owen…” Your eyes were soft as you looked up at him, watching as he trailed around your bed to the door, “Y-you could spend the night here, you know. Like old times. I’ll sleep on the floor---” “Don’t worry about it,” He grimaced a smile for you that seemed forced. “I’ll swing back around tomorrow. We can go get ice cream at our spot.”

That was intriguing enough, your bottom lip dragging inwards as he grasped the handle of the door, “Hey.”

“Hm?” If Owen whipped around any faster, he was sure that his head would dislocate from his body.

“Did you steal those stilts from the set?”

“They’re in my car.” He admitted with a rushed laugh from you that made his heart beat that much quicker in his chest. “Why do you ask?” “Just wondering if I need to put my running shoes on tomorrow. Was hoping… You’d chase me a bit. Give me a taste of your Ape self.”

“I’m pretty fast on all fours.” He boasted. “Ape School taught me well.”

“Then it should be an easy chase.”

[yourstrulysylus]

A Nonsense Christmas (a Sylus point of view)

Sylus had never cared much for the holidays—just another day in a chaotic life of deals and missions. But now, with her around, even the simplest traditions held meaning. She had a way of making even nonsense feel extraordinary.

The serene moment was interrupted when his vinyl record abruptly stopped, leaving the room in silence. Sylus frowned, about to investigate, when she strolled into the living room. Wearing nothing but a Santa hat, a short red fur-lined cape, and heels, she instantly turned his irritation into a sly smirk. He leaned back, intrigued, wondering what she would do next.

Before he could utter a word, Luke and Kieran followed her lead, stepping into the room. Both were dressed to match the theme—maroon suits, Santa hats, elf ears—and, of course, still donning their signature masks. The unlikely sight brought a chuckle from Sylus as he set his book aside, prepared for whatever antics were about to unfold.

“She paid us extra, boss,” Luke murmured, his tone low but amused.

“Just sit back and relax. We’ve got no idea what she’s planning—we’re just here for one job,” Kieran added with a shrug.

But Sylus wasn’t paying attention to either of the twins. His eyes were fixed solely on her as she stood front and center in his living room. Then, suddenly, she broke the silence.

“Hit it.”

Luke pressed play on the stereo, and Kieran hoisted the speakers into the air like a stagehand at a makeshift concert.

With a dramatic flourish, she shrugged off her red cape, revealing a sultry red off-shoulder dress, black tights, and a microphone in hand. Sylus’s eyes widened, his jaw tightening slightly—this outfit was something he thought should be reserved for his eyes only.

“Think I only want you under my mistletoe,” she began, her voice smooth and teasing as she locked eyes with him.

“I might change your contact to ‘Has a Huge North Pole,’

You said you like my stockings better on the floor.

Boy, I’ve been a bad girl, I guess I’m gettin’ coal.”

She swayed her hips, a slow and deliberate motion that seemed to make the room shrink to just the two of them. For a brief moment, the world felt like it moved in slow motion. That sway, that smirk—it was all for him.

“Let me come warm you up, you’ve been out in the snow.

Baby, my tongue goes numb, sounds like ‘ho-ho-ho.’

I don’t want Santa’s elves underneath this ol’ tree—”

She pointed at the twins, who, much to Sylus’s amusement, had begun snapping their fingers and stiffly moving their hips in time with the beat.

“Here’s a little carol I wrote, it’s about you and me,” she continued, her tone softening slightly as she gestured between herself and Sylus, her gaze growing more serious.

Then she began to walk toward him, her voice never faltering as she sang,

“You’re my wish list, looking at you got me thinking Christmas.”

Her eyes were magnetic, the kind of siren’s gaze that could make anyone weak in the knees. Sylus gripped the armrests of his seat, fighting to maintain his composure as she drew closer, her every movement designed to test his restraint.

She tossed her hair back as she sang, “You’ll be Santa Claus, and I’ll be Mrs.,

I’ll take you for a ride, I’ll be your vixen.” Her finger twirled the diamond engagement ring he’d given her two years ago, catching the light with every move. That ring had been an impulsive decision—like most things with her. He still remembered the way she’d laughed when he pulled it out of his pocket, halfway through a mission, saying, “Now or never.” She’d chosen ‘now,’ and he’d never looked back.

Sylus couldn’t decide if he was more captivated by her flawless performance—singing and dancing without a single misstep—or the way his pulse quickened at the sight of that ring, a reminder of their bond. Either way, he was left torn between awe and desire.

“I’ll give her due credit after the performance,” he thought, unaware of the faint smirk tugging at his lips as he watched the scene unfold. He wrestled with the urge to maintain his stoic demeanor or openly praise her in front of his men.

Sylus felt the room close in on him, the weight of his responsibilities, of his position, pressing down. She’s doing this to you on purpose, he thought, trying to remind himself that this was all just a game. A performance. A distraction. His wife knew exactly how to push his buttons. But this wasn’t just any holiday routine. This was her. In a red dress. Singing. The tension between wanting to lose himself in the moment and keeping his cool was almost unbearable.

Don’t fall for it, he told himself. But it was hard not to when she sang, when her eyes locked with his, her lips curling into that smile—one he knew all too well. The smile that meant she had him exactly where she wanted him.

But this wasn’t just about attraction. This was about control. You’re in charge, he reminded himself. But the ache in his chest, the pull in his gut, suggested otherwise. She was in charge now. And he was helpless to resist.

It was like a dream wrapped in red velvet and mistletoe.

Sylus leaned back in his chair, his arms folded, trying to keep a cool facade as she approached, each of her movements intentional, playful, and impossible to ignore. The twin’s stiff, yet enthusiastic dancing was a far cry from the sensuality she brought, and it made Sylus chuckle despite himself.

When she reached him, she stopped for a moment, looking at him with those familiar mischievous eyes—eyes that had stolen his heart the moment they met. She didn’t need to say anything more; the way she held that microphone, the way she had spun those lyrics into something personal—it was clear. She was making her own rules, in her own way, on her own terms.

“And here I thought you just wanted to relax this holiday,” she teased, her voice playful as she stopped in front of him, still singing the last few lines with that sultry smile.

Sylus couldn’t help it. He chuckled, finally breaking the tension. “You’re full of surprises, aren’t you?” he said, leaning forward slightly.

“You should know that by now,” she replied, her tone low, teasing. She let the music continue, moving in a slow circle around him.

Luke and Kieran, still swaying and snapping their fingers behind her, both exchanged a glance, clearly trying to gauge if they were about to witness something beyond their usual chaotic holiday antics.

She gave Sylus one last look, swaying her hips just a little more dramatically before ending the song with a dramatic spin and a playful wink.

The room fell silent for a moment as the last note of the song faded out.

“Well,” Sylus said, his voice smooth, “I guess that’s one way to celebrate Christmas.” He slowly stood up, his smirk still playing at the corners of his mouth. “You sure know how to make an entrance.”

She raised an eyebrow, the mischief still lingering in her expression. “I had to make it memorable.”

Sylus chuckled again, crossing the short distance between them. “Mission accomplished,” he murmured, pulling her into a kiss, one that promised plenty of ‘nonsense’ of its own for the rest of the evening.

Luke and Kieran exchanged another look, their usual banter lost in the background of the moment. “Alright, boss, we’ll just… uh, see ourselves out,” Luke said, pulling Kieran by the arm as the two quickly shuffled away.

They didn’t need to know what would happen next—they were just happy to have gotten paid extra for the show.

As the last note of her song lingered in the air, she leaned in close, her voice soft but teasing. “So, boss… did I earn my Christmas bonus?”

Sylus smirked, pulling her gently down onto his lap, his hands settling on her waist. “You’ve been on my ‘nice’ list all year,” he murmured, his voice low and warm. “But right now, I think I prefer you on the ‘naughty’ one.”

She laughed softly, the sound melting into a contented sigh as his lips brushed against hers, slow and deliberate. The world outside the window blurred into a wash of snowflakes and distant lights, forgotten in the heat of the moment.

The fire crackled softly in the background as the warmth between them grew. Her hands slid over his shoulders, pulling him closer, her Santa hat slipping off in the process. Sylus caught it with one hand, tossing it onto the floor with a quiet chuckle.

The twins’ muffled laughter could be heard retreating down the hall, their voices fading as they wisely made their exit. The room grew quieter, save for the occasional pop of the fire and the soft sounds of her breath mingling with his.

By the time the snowstorm outside picked up, the two of them had sunk into the couch, wrapped up in each other, the rest of the world forgotten.

[lilydalexf]

hello! I'm new to following you on Tumblr, but I followed your content from Golgle, I wanted to know if by any chance you knew of any fanfic in which Scully recovered her memories of the abduction, I've been wanting to read one like that for a while, but I can't find it, thanks!

Welcome, and thank you for the ask! Here are some good fics where Scully remembers something about her season 2 abduction. Enjoy!

12 Rites of Passage: Regression by Anne Haynes Part 9 of the 12 Rites of Passage series: Mulder and Scully seek a missing woman and discover frightening truths about their pasts. (Sequel to the series: 12 Degrees of Separation.)

Anamorphosis by Megan Reilly Assigned to find a horrifying serial murderer, Agent Scully discovers things about herself and her past that she never suspected.

Comfortably Numb by Paige Caldwell There is no pain...you are receding...a distant ship...smoke on the horizon...you are coming through in waves...Your lips move but I can't hear what you say...I have become comfortably numb...

The Cry of the Truth by A.I. Irving As their love affair unfolds, Scully reveals to Mulder a painful secret relating to her abduction. Mulder's reaction tests their bond and eventually leads Scully to discover a few truths about herself.

Dance Without Sleeping by wonderland (@amplifyme) Scully learns to live with her cancer and take back control of her life. Meanwhile, Mulder works on fulfilling a wish list. (Fic in the same universe: Into Each Other Sinking.)

grief by ms_starlight71 Scully goes in for a routine pap smear sometime post-cancer arc and has a panic attack/flashback related to her abduction.

i'm still in love with who i wish you were by comeherebooch “You were abducted, Scully,” Mulder said, sensing her confusion, “do you remember anything?” Post Requiem.

Ingénue by Punk (@punkm) Mulder and Scully investigate the circumstances surrounding a fifteen-year-old girl's multiple disappearances.

locking out the ghosts by skuls (@ghostbustermelanieking) Post-Emily arc, an emotionally vulnerable Scully breaks off the incredibly new relationship she and Mulder have recently been engaged in. As the season moves forward, how do they cope with this new development in their relationship, and how do the stressful situations their job puts them in affect this?

Malleus Maleficarum by Pellinor A stranger with a tempting offer promises hope in Mulder's time of need. Refusal could cost him and Scully their lives, but could the price of acceptance be greater still?

Movie Night by @nowwhateinstein “Talk about spooky,” he says as the movie fades to black and the credits begin to roll. She laughs and gives a small shake of her head. “That word,” she says. “It means something different to me now.”

Revanche by Ryo Sen Revanche - (noun) political policy designed to recover lost territory or status

Skin by Annie Sewell-Jennings In a world where Mulder and Scully have never met, fate intervenes and brings two worlds colliding in the city of Charleston, as a vicious murderer reigns and a storm approaches.

Right Hand Return by orphan_account An alternative universe in which Scully is returned from her abduction with a baby, no memories of anything prior to her captivity and some PTSD.

Time Can Heal by PostApocolypticAlien (@scullysexual) Mulder realises that his quest for the truth costs too much (WIP)

Truthseekers by Leyla Harrison (No summary provided)

until it heals by actualchangeling (@actual-changeling) Nightmares cannot be fought with logic or light, there is no way of expelling them from her brain, not a single moment of peace to catch her breath. Scully knows one thing that always helps, though. Or rather—someone. When she finds herself lost and drowning, she calls the one person in the world whom she trusts to keep her safe. She calls Mulder.

The Way by KMNAHILL and MD1016 Scully becomes mysteriously ill. Mulder, Melissa, and Tao help to heal her. / On assignment in Chicago, Scully’s illness progresses. / An assignment in Oregon turns out to be more than first expected. Humorous antics from the Lone Gunmen. / Samantha returns and isn’t what Mulder had expected.

White Light by aka_Jake While investigating a young woman's claim of alien abduction, Mulder and Scully are led on a cross-country chase of intrigue and murder. As they search for answers, Scully's own abduction memories resurface.

[gremlinmodetweeker]

riffing off socially awkward deeply anxious König, do you think he would do better digitally? chatting with someone he met online or someone who streams an obscure game? you have a lovely relationship with him and then before you meet in person he's like so. i'm. very. awkward. as a real person. i might not. talk a lot. you'll be carrying the conversation, don't take it personally. you have a captive audience for ANY topic. anything. you want. and why is it going to be a/b/o's spn origins

Okay yes this absolutely. I can totally write something for that. I hope this story suffices!

Now, I have no idea what you mean by the omegaverse, but I could try making an omegaverse!König if you’d like. I do not understand by spn omegaverse origins. Please feel free to either respond here or ask in my inbox. It should be open??? Tell me if it isn’t.

Anyways, onto the story! More below the cut.

König Prefers Quiet Time

König is a voracious reader, so he’s rather verbose and eloquent when online. His messages are witty, insightful, yet practical and grounded. He’s quick to become your best online friend. After all, he’s so well-spoken! He writes beautiful paragraphs that are easy and amusing to read. It’s rare to find such a delightful person online.

And he’s so quick to win over your heart. Whenever he can be, he there’s for you. He’ll take pictures and videos of sights on deployment or jot down little stories to tell you when he can. Sometimes he can drop off the face of the earth, but he’ll be back online soon enough and messaging you about how his latest mission went and what he did (within reason, can’t give away secrets).

Every time he comes back online, you know you’re in for a good time. Whether it’s him complaining about teammates, or having to argue about directions with a local, he’s got fantastic (yet terribly awkward) stories about his days. He always says he’s so shy and hates social situations, and sure he sometimes sounds a bit strange when he recounts the stories, but they're so fun that you don't really take in how it would look from an outside perspective. Sure, he sounds a bit dorky in these stories, but still so eloquent! He’s got this little way of describing things with abstract metaphors that make you smile and wish you were there by his side.

It took a lot to convince him to have a relationship with you. It’s not that he doesn’t like you, it’s that you ask to meet up in person. He tells you that he’s happy to meet you, but then why does he suddenly have more missions? He’s so punctual, but he missed his flight? When he goes on about having a stubbed toe, you have to put your foot down. You want to see him, and that’s final.

Begrudgingly, he books a vacation with you.

When you go to pick him up from the airport, the first thing that stands out about him is how tall he is. Then how big. You didn’t think they made people in that size. This guy has Shaquille O’Neil running for his money. Like, how? And then you realize that he’s crouching down to make himself look smaller. It’s insanity. At the very least, he’s easy to pick out in a crowd, what with his hood and all. You do worry about him fitting in the car, though.

So you go up to him, and then he sees you and he looks nothing but elated. It’s a beautiful moment between you two. In that hectic airport, with people calling in many languages and bags squeaking and the cars outside honking and revving their engines, it’s perfectly silent and beautiful. It’s a wonderful moment that you think you’ll cherish until you die.

The next moment is where it all falls apart.

He accidentally drops his bag and it spills everywhere. He scrambles to pick it up and he keeps looking around with wide eyes of terror so you take pity on the poor lad and lean down to help. He then promptly stands up and cracks the crown of his head against your nose and now your nose is bleeding and oh no he dropped his bag again and now he’s apologizing and then he’s rushing to the bathroom and you’re left with the realization that you fell in love with an absolute mess. 

By the time he’s back, your nose has stopped bleeding and you’re packing his belongings back into his pack. He tries to silently offer you tissues, so you take them and wipe your nose tenderly, but when you make a joke about it he doesn’t say anything. Odd, but maybe he’s just a bit frazzled.

You’re driving back home when he finally says his first words to you besides ‘hi’, ‘sorry’ and ‘oh no’.

“Thank you,” he says as he stares at the road ahead.

“What, for the drive?” you laugh, “it’s no problem! I mean, it’s not too bad. It’s about an hour’s drive, but I’m fine with that!”

König says nothing, just nods as you speak. You’re starting to worry that you picked up the wrong person. Where was the confident and friendly man you spoke to online? Where was his friendly joking? At least you now understand his awkward and amusing stories he told you, because even though you love him, you can’t help but feel terribly awkward. If he’s this bad with you, you can only imagine how bad it is with others.

You were prepared for someone who was going to talk your ear off, but you felt like you just picked up a skinwalker instead. Was he even blinking? You can’t tell. He looks shell-shocked as he gazes off into the distance.

“So, um, how was the flight?” you ask with a wide smile.

“Gut.”

Anything more? No? Nothing more. Well, that’s helpful.

“Did they give you anything to eat on the flight? Are you hungry?” you ask, hoping to pry more than a couple words out of him.

“I ate,” he says quietly.

You nod and bite your lip. So this is what it was going to be like?

You take him into your home. For the entire night he refuses to take a step outside.

By the time noon rolls around the next day, you decide to take the initiative and knock on his door.

“Hey, König?” you call.

You get a hum from behind the door.

“Can I come in?” you ask nervously.

There’s a pause, then a hiss and a curse, then the door opens.

“Thanks,” you whisper as you squeeze by him, but he doesn't move to let you in any easier.

König sits delicately on the edge of the bed while you sit on a stool across from him. You look at each other for a few moments before you crack.

“Am I… Am I not what you thought I’d be?” you ask nervously.

König tilts his head as he narrows his eyebrows.

“I mean, just…” you sigh, “you talked so much online, but you’ve barely said a word since I picked you up from the airport. Are you okay? Is there something wrong?”

You hesitate for a moment, before you tack on, “Is there something wrong with us?”

König’s eyes slowly widen before he shakes his head quickly, the fabric swinging like a dog shaking after a dip in a lake.

“Nein, you are…” he gestures towards you with one hand, “you are perfect. It’s just… Ah…”

You brace yourself.

“I am not good at talking,” he admits.

You deflate. That’s it? He’s not good at talking?

“But you’re fine online,” you point out.

“Ja, but this is… It is different,” he sighs, “I am not good at talking to people in person. It is.. Scary. I do not like to talk much.”

You nod as you listen carefully.

“So…” you rub your thumb over your kneecap, “would you like me to do most of the talking for us? Would that make things easier for you?”

König nodded quickly.

You laugh as you feel your shoulders relax.

“Great. I think I can do that.”

From then on, the visit is wonderful. Now that you know that König just isn’t great at talking in person, it’s a delight to talk to him. Sometimes you think you talk at him, but you realize pretty quickly that he’s listening attentively to everything you say. He’s a delight to speak to. If you ever lose your train of thought, he’s quick to help you get it back so he can listen to you further.

You realize pretty quickly that he worries too much. When you take him out to places, he’s nervous and flighty. The louder and more chaotic, the worse his social anxiety gets. As such, you find yourself going to more quiet areas. You chill and relax in quiet cafes, go to the aquarium at night, even play some games at a board game cafe in the middle of the day, when there’s nobody else there.

He’s a friendly man, all things considered. You also quickly learn the basis of his awkward stories.

You’re at a grocery store when you see it in action.

“Oh my God you’re so tall!” a woman looks up at your boyfriend with wide eyes.

König barely turns to acknowledge her, but he gives her a curt nod.

“Can you, like, help me with something?” she asks eagerly.

König looks down at you, then back to the woman.

“What is it?” his voice is sharply cold, and you can see the woman wince.

“Well, um, there’s this thing on the top shelves, and I was hoping you could get it for me?” she says, a bit nervously.

“What is it?” he’s somehow worse than last time.

“Um, uh, I can show it to you?” she offers meekly.

“I need to know what it is,” König practically tears her head off with how brutal he sounds.

You grab his hand and squeeze slightly, but it seems like it’s all going downhill too quickly.

“It’s-”

König turns to face her abruptly and she’s stumbling back before scurrying off. König watches her go, then turns to you.

“Why did she go?” he asks innocently. You can hardly believe him.

“König…” you start slowly, “is that how you usually speak to strangers?”

He thinks for a moment, then nods.

“König I think I know why you think people hate you.”

König’s eyebrows raise up for a moment, “You do?”

You nod, and give him a brief explanation. You can see his brain doing somersaults in his head, practically melting out his ears as his entire world view is shattered before him. Before he can respond properly, the woman is coming back with security in tow.

It’s no wonder König has so many interesting awkward stories.

[love-toxin]

Absolutely frothing at the mouth for ur recent leon stuff ESPECIALLY that last thing you just did w him I am SEXUALIZING this man please don't stop 😭😭💗💗

struck with the thought of Leon >>>>> moaning >>>>>> sweating, flexing during some reunion sex 🥺 even better if it's reunion AND makeup sex-!!!!

set the scene: you get into a huge fight with your boyfriend right before he's about to leave on another big trip, and Leon being Leon finds better solace in just leaving and electing to figure it all out later because he can't think well when he's pissed at you. plus he knows he's getting himself into even worse danger than you even know about, so it's better that he leaves you at home--and maybe it's better if you hate him too, so if and when he dies on this mission it won't hurt you as badly when you can remember him as a bastard. he hates it but what is he good for? pissing you off? that seems to be the only thing. so he leaves, and prays to gods he doesn't even believe in anymore that he'll be able to make this all up to you when he comes back.

but then Spain happens, shit hits the fan, and Leon gets some very disturbing news. apparently there's not only whispers of the girl he might be looking for around the church, but there's supposedly also another person being kept captive here if Luis' word is to be trusted. Leon's more concerned with having to escort two civilians rather than just the one, but he's got no clue who it could be. he doesn't even think it, it doesn't even cross his mind.

he's absolutely devastated and somehow relieved that it's you. that your beautiful eyes are the ones he lands on when he steps into the cell, your hand on Ashley's arm to comfort her and your breath visibly hitching in your throat when you see who your savior is.

and while it doesn't last long, it can't with where you are, you kiss and embrace and he squeezes those huge arms around your waist and you sob into his neck about how sorry you are, about how you wish you'd never yelled at him, how you prayed you'd see him again even though you don't deserve to. and Leon basically has you off your feet he's got you so wrapped up in his arms, murmuring at the same time that everything's gonna be okay, you're gonna be okay, he's not mad he's so sorry he argued with you, they're gonna pay for what they did to my baby. every scrape and bump and bruise will be repayed tenfold, he thinks as he grits his teeth and bites his cheek until it bleeds.

but no matter what comes next, it comes and goes in a blur. the shells exploding, blood and gore splattering over yours and Ashley's heads as Leon directs you away from danger, running and barely being clipped by Los Iluminados as they grab for you and the president's daughter. eventually, through all of those catastrophies, you and Leon find a moment to yourselves and you take it the second it's presented.

it matters little that you don't even have a bed, or you can barely get your clothes off because you need to be ready to shoot at a moment's notice--it's time for you both to express your apologies and you couldn't possibly have enough words to do so.

which is exactly why Leon lifts you off your feet like you weigh absolutely nothing, rubs you against his cock so easily it's like he's lowering a fleshlight to the tip, and guides you with both hands on your ass to sink down and take him inside, cloaked in nothing but a thin condom he had saved in his wallet for emergencies. he wants to take it slow but he can't, he wants to be gentle but you feel so good god he missed this.....the only respite he gets is from thinking about you and now that you're here, he's gonna let you hook your arms round his neck and your legs round his waist as he carries you, so you can bounce on his cock as much as you want without your feet ever touching the floor. suspended here for him, up high on his hips with your sweet holes stretched all the way out for him, this is what he wanted, what he craved for so long.

you still cry out your apologies, but they muffle themselves into his lips and disappear when he kisses them into moans. even covered in blood and dirt and sniffling as you whimper his name, you're still the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen and you've got the sweetest body he could ever imagine making love to. he adjusts his grip on you, watches you squeak with a twinge of pain as you slip a little further down and squeeze his head deeper into your shoulder--and he loves that, he loves that when you're hurt, you reach for him first. because you truly love him, don't you? he can't imagine you'd agree to fucking him in a ruined cabin if you didn't, much less be the one climbing in his lap and blubbering with that adorable pout because you just wanted him to hold you. that frustrated scowl from before he left is completely gone, and he couldn't be more relieved because he hates making you angry--and he knows that it was mostly his fault.

but you're so needy for him and he loves that. he loves that you can't get close enough as he holds you up, that you're basically drooling all over his mouth because he's fucking you so good your brain isn't working, and he loves that when he whimpers right back and does it so close to your ear, you scrabble for better purchase on his toned back and whine for him to keep going. be louder. you don't think it's girly or weird that he makes noise, in fact it turns you on to listen to him moan and beg and gasp for you like he's doing now. like you're a breath of pure, clean air and his lungs are drained and empty. he loves that it makes you clench around him when he does it, and that it turns you on just as much as his biceps that you're running a hand down to feel the way it flexes, as he slams your hips down to warm his full length inside that soft, tight heat he can't stop chasing.

he knows he has a job to do, but it just has to wait. Ashley can wait, Luis can wait, Hunnigan can wait, the whole world can wait--when he feels his cock twitching and he squeezes you down to the base to finish you off, those few moments of bliss you share together are the only things that matter. and while your walls are still spasming and clenching down on him and you're mewling his name and nothing else, Leon pulls you up prematurely and slides that awful, preventative sleeve of rubber off his dick and slings it aside to fall to the floor, before slowly settling you back on top to push into that addictive heat once more. he hasn't got another, and he doesn't care--those lone trickles of cum squishing right up inside you and your walls squeezing him for dear life feels more right than anything else he's done in his miserable life, and as long as nobody's interrupting you, Leon's not gonna stop for anything more.