#now it's gonna be on my keys and the worse one currently on my keys is gonna go with my nice USB hub where the nice one used to be—

[catastrophic-crow]

genuinely devastating to find something lost months or years ago and it was put somewhere "memorable" on purpose

[sheepispink]

The Perfect Pair

Masterlist AO3

WC: 7.6k Tags: fluff, marriage of convenience, leon kennedy/ reader

Summary: Leon can barely hold himself upright most days and you've finally decided to ditch the DSO life in pursuit of happiness. However, that'd mean leaving all those beautiful tax benefits and medical insurance behind. Turns out Leon and Chris are pretty persuasive, landing you as Leon's 'wife' but you cant help but start to feel something more, unaware that Leon's already set his eyes on you for life.

It’d been a long day at work, the usual really— Chris had roped him into dealing with another bioweapon appearance, thus leading him to take a helicopter to some trashy place, locating the bioweapon, and promptly knocking its freaky nature out of action. Now he lugged his weary feet home to the apartment you shared, his stomach craving a taste of something only your skilled hands would prepare for him. After a short elevator trip that thankfully alleviated the ache of his feet for a moment, he reached the front door and, with a quick fumble with the keys he had inserted the right one inside, opening the door.

“I’m home.” He calls out, his raspy voice filling the silent yet serene space before him. He somehow grew used to this; the sight of two sets of keys on the hook, the vast difference in style as he places his shoes on the rack, and the two coats on the bannister, one far smaller than the other. “Smells good..” He mumbles beneath his breath, making his way towards the kitchen where you stand, back facing him as you work your hands through a ball of minced meat.

“Welcome home.” You turn to meet his hungry gaze with your typical warm smile, heart warming at the exhausted look on his face and even more so that he’d soon find relief in the food you had made.

“You’re lucky, we had just enough mince meat in the freezer for your favourite beef burgers.” That was a lie. You had woken up early this morning and decided he had looked far too tired recently, and it’d been far too long since he’d had his favourite meal. So, as any good wife does, you wanted to make him feel better and took to the nearest supermarket, picking up all the ingredients you needed and some for a tasty dessert too. He always denied that he enjoyed sweet treats, but he would always be the first to finish them, whether it was a sweet chocolate mousse or a tasty doughnut you picked up on the way home.

He chuckles, his hand disappearing into his work jacket as he slips off the leather and lays it on the back of a wooden chair. It then migrates to his collar, tugging on it to alleviate the heat through his body, which is proven by the thin layer of sweat covering his limbs.

“Oh? Thanks, I was sure you finished it last week when you gave Kitty a gourmet meal for once.”

This home wouldn’t be complete without its resident cat, a Siamese fur ball that Leon graciously named ‘Kitty’ though he has no doubt referred to it with a million different names anyway.

“I guess I must've missed a bit. I really treated her for nothing.” While he was smirking, your mind was far from the lightheartedness of this conversation, currently panicking over his words. He had seriously caught you out there; of course you finished the mince, last week but was he actually accusing you of lying or worse—did he know? As you let out an awkward chuckle, he speaks up again, undoing his belt with one hand as his other grabs a glass from the shelf to fill with water. “I’m not complaining though; they really are my favourites for a reason.” He drinks down the glass of water in one swig, letting out a satisfied breath before rolling his shoulders back. “I’m gonna take a quick shower—I don't want to drown your nose with my sweat.” He chuckles again, finally leaving you alone in the kitchen again as he takes his path up the stairs to your shared bedroom.

To say your relationship with him was complicated was a massive understatement; it was a whirlwind of conflicting emotions, feelings that felt illicit, and signals that were impossible to decipher. Well, for you it felt like this—you’re not so sure about him. In fact, for someone who sleeps beside him nearly everyday, cooks him meals, eats dinner with him, and even drops off his lunch, you barely knew anything about the man.

This all began when you decided to quit the DSO, finally having enough money to move to a more peaceful job with flexible hours and still end up supporting yourself. You had only worked in communications at the DSO, but that was still a pain in itself. Before you left, they had an informal work dinner. A bunch of agents and other workers came along to a diner for some food before heading to mess around at a karaoke place before the weekend hit. With so many people around, it grew far too hot too quickly, and you soon wandered the halls seeking a breath of fresh air before you heard your name called by an agent. The voice belonged to Chris Redfield–your superior—who was beckoning you to come over, cigarette in hand, to where he stood with Leon right beside him. They were both your superiors in the work field but were perceived as far more important due to the missions they accomplished and lives they saved.

“Yes..?”

You were more confused than scared or anything of the like—why did they even want to talk to you? It’s not like you often saw them. Even so, you walked over to them, trying to reduce the awkwardness when you slipped your hands into the pockets of your jacket, tilting your head slightly.

“You’re gonna leave soon, right?” Leon asks, taking a swig of the golden whisky in his glass whilst Chris blows another puff of smoke off to the side.

“Yeah, I wanted to move onto a different job, a quieter one that isn't so taxing.” You shrug, having only thought out a bit of it so far.

Chris and Leon shared a glance at each other before Leon spoke once more, rolling back his shoulders a little. “You see, I have a bit of a predicament, and Chris thought you could help.”

Before you know it, he’s explaining how busy his work is and that he barely gets home in time for a sip of water before he knocks out, and you’re not really sure how this is your problem until Chris butts in.

“So basically, he needs a wife. You, on the other hand, won't have any of the perks of the DSO since you’re leaving, which includes medical insurance, tax benefits..” He trailed off as you started to ponder it, you really would lose a lot of the things you had grown to exist around. It would be very difficult to manage, and you can't say you’d miss a lot of those perks greatly. The two men give each other a glance as you speak up, nodding along. “You’re right, I will miss out a lot, but I really don't want to stay here longer..” Before Leon can even try and slide it in, Chris has already blurted it out.

“Well, you won't lose anything if you marry him.”

So, after a bunch of awkward talks and surviving interrogations from your coworkers, you ended up with a small wedding, which was mainly done to please your own parents rather than yourselves. Now you’re here, almost a year into this non formal contractual marriage, and your feelings are muddled. Very muddled. It’s hard to not catch feelings when you’re somewhat of a hopeless romantic yourself, or maybe the teenage girl mentality came back full force now you have a lot more free time. You owed him a fair amount to be fair—he didn’t realise how stress-free your life was these days. Wake up, eat a healthy breakfast, maybe watch some television too, head down to the small little bakery you own and teach the part time teenager there before wrapping up at four o'clock and heading home again. Your skin had cleared up, you were actually able to sleep in on the weekends and actually do whatever you want— pick up new hobbies, eat proper meals, and read books to your heart's content.

What you’ve concluded is that your life has drastically improved and you are more relaxed than you’ve ever been. The problem with that is that with the new addition of all this free time and air to breathe in, you’re able to actually think about the man you’ve married. In simpler terms that you tried to deny for a year now, you’ve caught feelings—a lot of feelings for him. That’s why you’re currently stuck in a conundrum; you’re technically allowed to pursue said feelings, as you’re married and no longer ‘colleagues’ needing to act professionally, but does he want the same?

The pan starts to sizzle, snapping you out of your daydreaming as you place the flattened patty into the oil, lightly frying each side. Being his wife meant looking after him as much as he did to you, so cooking was often your chore to handle. Even though you were more than happy to do most of the chores, he’d still help with the dishes after dinner and often cooked when he could—when he was exhausted from another mission. Plus, he did his own laundry. He would’ve done yours too, though after the first time he tried, your cheeks had flushed immediately when he handed you a pile of your freshly washed underwear and t-shirts, and you quickly told him you’d do your own.

The staircase groans as he steps down the stairs, his movements a lot slower now that he had let the tension ease from his muscles in the shower. So far, you’ve managed to cook four patties, which was more than enough to satisfy his stomach and yours. But you had an extra two for his lunch tomorrow and because he tended to have a third burger “just because it’d be a shame to let it go to waste.That’s when you hear him curse softly under his breath, turning back to glance at him in confusion. “What’s wrong?” His hair is damp, still dripping with water onto the white tee he wears. It’s loose and the one you bought him last month when you went on a shopping spree. You try to ignore the way your eyes naturally drift towards his chest; a small sliver of his pale skin peeks out where his hand disappears under his shirt, rubbing his abdomen in a strange way. “Did you get hurt?” You continue, turning down the heat on the hob so you can turn to face him better.

“Oh? This?”

He lifts the shirt a little, revealing the bruise on his right side of his stomach, and also gives you a perfect view of his toned abs. Damn. “It’s not as bad as it looks..” He mumbles, but his eyebrows are still knitted in a frowning gesture. “I’m annoyed because I missed an opportunity..”

That makes you blink, wondering what he could’ve missed in the time he went for his shower and came back here. Did he get a phone call? Or perhaps something happened this week you hadn't picked up on?

“An opportunity?”

“Yeah. I completely missed the chance to ask you, ‘What's cookin, Good Lookin?’. Damnit..”

Did the corniest line to ever exist really just make your chest tighten for a second?

You can’t deny the fact that the line itself had made your lips part as you stood there dumbfounded. Leon had a history with corny one-liners; in fact, whenever his colleagues happened to see you, they’d always mention whatever stupid thing he said during a mission. He’d say it to you occasionally too, usually random puns that he’d quietly snicker about, but he’d never quite openly flirt with you like that. Was it supposed to be a joke? Was it real? You couldn't tell, and so you quickly turned back around before your patties ended up burnt.

“O-of course only you would worry more about that than your own injuries.” His snickering is obvious behind you as you place the cooked patties onto a small plate. “Stop pestering me and go sit down at the table.” You feign annoyance, grumbling as you hide the furious flush of pink upon your cheeks. Unfortunately for you, he didn’t intend to give up that easily, walking up behind you and peering over your shoulder with his hands planted on the counter on either side of your waist.

“That was a good one, c’mon.” He argues, the most exaggerated pout on his face quickly disappearing when he watches the burgers sizzle in the pan. He loves your food so damn much.

“That was not a good one, shoo.”

Thankfully, he ends up leaving you alone in favour of Kitty, who had just woken up from her nap— eager to play with him even if it just means chasing after a wrapper he had thrown across the room. You place down two plates at the table, as per usual, along with a plate full of salad, a bowl of fresh chips you fried, and the small plate of patties— six to be exact. Then, you place down the two fancy glasses you bought last week and grab your usual favourite canned drink while grabbing a Coke Zero for him. Finally, you place Kitty’s dinner on the floor which she runs over for, immediately gobbling up the food. “She’s just like you.” You giggle, watching as she hungrily wolfs down the food, thus making him groan in return. “I do not eat like that.”

Dinner is the same. You’ll ask about his day in which he usually retorts in grunts and moans about the government, incompetent workers, and that woman.. Ada. Just the mention of her name used to make him go quiet back when you worked at the DSO, and even in the first few months of your “marriage”, he would shrug off the subject quickly. Now he talks about it here and there, mentioning how she suddenly appears and always seems to know his location. For some reason, it puts a sick feeling in your stomach, like someone is dragging their nails across the flesh of your insides.

“Ada.. was there. Ever since I saved the president’s daughter, it’s like she’s followed me everywhere. She helps me.. but then she claims to not care..?”

His words stopped registering in your mind after a while as your teeth grit against each other and you absentmindedly dipped your chip into ketchup over and over again. You can’t believe he could be so naive. She had played him once in Raccoon City, faking her identity and using him to her advantage. The same played out in Spain even if she ‘saved’ him. You didn't care about her damn motives; she worked for the enemy, and it irked you—she just used whatever she could to gain her benefit, and it seemed like no one could stop her.

“Earth to my beautiful wife, hello?” He waved his hand in front of your furrowed eyebrows and the obvious scowl upon your face. “You look like you just ate something you find disgusting. I thought you liked this too.”

You immediately realise you had zoned out, your face shifting to something sheepish before you finally stick the ketchup-soaked chip into your mouth. You didn't even get a chance to process what he just called you.

“No, it’s not the food; I was just thinking. Sorry, it’s nothing.”

That only serves to make him all the more curious, though he doesn't push it, instead continuing his story. “Where was I? Oh, right, then Ada shot—” He cuts himself off as your eyes immediately narrow, and you lower your head, picking with your food again subconsciously. It doesn’t take much to piece the clues together, his lips twitching upwards as a smile threatens to spread. Though he wants to test his suspicions one more time.

“Wanna hear something crazy? Ada tried to kiss me again.”

“What?!” You immediately sit up straight, the scowl returning just as fast and teeth grit, but it quickly softens when you see the smirk on his face.

“I knew it. You hate her, don’t you?” Leon always saw right through you, thankfully not with your growing feelings yet, and it made it all the harder to keep his marriage… Well, just as a contract.

“Fine, maybe I don’t like her. So what? She’s not exactly the most moral person.” You say, shrugging your shoulders nonchalantly as you take a bite out of your burger and chew it down. “She helps Umbrella, can you really blame me?” That only makes his lips twitch again, and he leans his elbows on the table, eyes trained on every feature of your face.

“Are you jealous of her?” That almost makes you choke on the burger, and you have to take a large gulp of your drink to swallow down the rest of the food, your face immediately pinkening. It can’t be possible—there’s no way you’re jealous of that cunning, manipulative, hot, extremely hot woman. How did she even look that good?

“Ha— she should be jealous of me.” You scoff boldly, finishing the last of your burger soon after.

“Oh, and why’s that? Because you’re the one wedded to me?

A moment earlier, your heart would’ve described his face as a perfectly carved sculpture, the ones that people bid thousands to place in their homes because not showing off such a perfect creation would be a crime. Right now, he wore a sly grin with his eyebrows raised as he eyed you suggestively.

And that look was very punchable.

“Because I'm living the dream. I’ve got a bakery, a ton of free time, and I guess you’re there too, I suppose.”

With a roll of your eyes, you dismiss his words quickly, even though the faintest blush on your cheeks betrays your true thoughts. What if you said yes? What happens then?

“I should’ve known you wouldn’t give me that satisfaction.” He feigns a pout before his grin returns as he takes a massive bite into his second burger of the night. Of course, he just has to make an exaggerated moan, one elbow leaning on the table as the other covers his face dramatically.

“This is heavenly, you know? One day I swear I'll start dreaming about these burgers.”

There he goes again, babbling on about Lord knows what and his corny lines again. You can't help but flash a small cheeky smile, winking as you pour yourself a glass of water from the pitcher.

“Another reason for her to be jealous of me.”

Once the dinner has been packed away by his speedy hands, he’s returned to make the couch his home again, stretching his whole body against the length of it like a cat would. You’re placing the dishes into your dishwasher before inserting a tablet and putting it on for three hours. As you walk over to wipe down the table, you notice his eyes have fluttered close as he groans and gets comfortable on the cushions. You can't say you didn't feel a tinge of affection—well, much more than that, like a heap almost—every time he crashed out like this, completely exhausted from a mission. “Weekend tomorrow..” You remind him with a gentle hum, swiftly removing any stray stains off the table. “Don’t you want to have a good sleep, y'know, in bed?”

He lets out a muffled grumble in response, burying his face into the cushions before he reluctantly sits up, making you smile a little more—you’d scold him regularly about lying down after eating. “What movie d’ya wanna watch?” He says even if he would usually wander his way to the bedroom after you said that. It’s been at least a month since you had been together like this to watch a movie. A lot had changed in that month, specifically your growing feelings for him. Perhaps distance really does bring fondness, you think.

“I don’t mind; you like action, no?” You finish wiping down the dirt from dinner to glance over whatever he’s doing on the television, only to find him flicking through your favourite genre of movies. Shoving down the warmth on your cheeks is near impossible as you speed walk back to the kitchen. Were these signs? Were you reading too much into it? Your teeth graze against each other nervously as you look up to see him waiting expectantly on the couch for you to join him. What the hell is happening right now? He had always gone to bed immediately or scrolled through his phone for a while— so what’s with the sudden change?

Moments later you’re sitting beside him on the couch, knees tucked to your chest as he presses play on the movie he picked—the one you had mentioned you wanted to watch when it first got announced that it was in production. Despite your excitement, you could hardly concentrate on the movie when he was practically centimetres from you. He was leaning back against the cushions, one arm resting around the back of the couch where you sat and the other comfortably against the armrest. If you had just moved your head back slightly, you would brush against his arm. If you did that, would he wrap it around your shoulders? Just the thought makes you shudder a little, your chin moving forward to sit comfortably on your knees. It was like you were a teenage girl again, sitting in the movies with your crush while you wondered if he thought of you as a friend or something more. You couldn't even believe you were acting like this—hell the two of you were married legally, not to mention you were both grown adults! Who cares if he had just stretched out his arms, his shirt riding up, and you could see the scars on his stomach? Your breath hitching when he had shuffled up to you was completely unnecessary; the warmth radiating off of him was irrelevant, no matter if the characters were kissing on the screen right now. You practically jump when he pokes your shoulder with his hand, your head snapping to him instantly, and you can barely even form a noise when you see how close his face is to yours. His eyes had to be one of your favourite things about him, or was it the messy mop of dirty blond hair on his head? It could even be the sharpness of his jawline, the lines of wear beneath his eyes, how perfectly his nose seemed to be carved, or perhaps, crazily enough, the way his voice rang out in your ears in the mornings.

“Do we have any dessert? I’m craving something sweet.”

Every step back into the kitchen is like torture from how hot your cheeks are, the cold fridge air doing nothing to soothe the embarrassment as you grab the microwave puddings you had bought today. You can't believe you had been so flustered by the proximity that all that had escaped you was a strangled noise before you just hurriedly nodded and escaped to the kitchen. Those five seconds between the poke and his words felt like a millennia— an incredibly romantically tense millennia— where for those whole five seconds, you stupidly thought he’d kiss you right then and there. You fan yourself as if that’ll soothe the metaphoric rush of warmth in your face right now, incredibly embarrassed by your own thoughts and desires. When you sit back down again, you quickly hand him the hot pudding and sit further away from him this time. If you even felt that again, you felt like you’d simply explode altogether.

Unbeknownst to you, he was now wondering if you were annoyed that he had interrupted, and he frowned as he glanced down at the plate with just a singular spoon. Weren’t you going to eat too? Not to mention, you were all stiff and sitting further from him than before—now you’re really twisting the knife in his heart. First he had agitated you by teasing you about Ada, then he laid on the couch right after dinner like you always told him not to do, and now you even refused to eat dessert! Maybe he isn't putting enough effort into all of this as he originally thought. After all, you did a lot to run a bakery in town and still cook, clean, and look after his cat. So, he decides to take a shot and scoops up a particularly chocolatey part of the pudding, the part he always eats first, and holds the spoon up to your lips.

“I know you’re mad, but you can't deny this.” He plasters his typical boyish grin, nudging your lips with the metal of the spoon. But he’s caught off guard when you pull back in surprise, waving your hands around frantically in denial. “H-huh? I ate a lot of sweet things today already—”

“Shut up. Don’t you dare even say you’re on a diet either; you’re perfect already.”

He pushes the spoon against your lips which you accidentally part in surprise at his words, the warm chocolate filling your mouth immediately like an instant boost of serotonin.

“See, it's good, told ya.” He says smugly as you swallow down the tasty pudding and sauce. That’s only for a moment before he notices the smudge of chocolate around your lips from his struggle, casually wiping away the crumbs with his thumb before licking it.

He had just wiped the crumbs.

He wiped it from your lips.

He wiped it and then licked it off his hand.

He didn't even think twice.

“I-its not bad-” That was all you could mutter out before he committed the crime, and now you were left dumbstruck as you watched him casually lick his thumb and then take another spoon of the dessert—the same spoon you just ate from. He leans back against the couch again, about to shove another in your mouth once he gets comfortable enough, though he quickly realises that you still haven’t spoken since. “You can’t still be mad; I’ll shove another one in your mouth, you know—” At that, you know you’re sure to blurt out the truth, and you scramble up, about to make an excuse about needing a glass of water, before your wrist is caught in his hand, and you’re promptly pulled back against the couch again.

“Hm? Where are you going, pink cheeks?”

He says it teasingly, instantly making you flush all the more. You couldn’t understand how anyone could even be so casual about these things, not that you had little experience in the area, but seriously— he had literally just licked the chocolate on your face. That was an indirect kiss!

“Do you do this with all your friends?” The frown on your face is suddenly a little harsher, accusing, and suddenly there's a hint of betrayal. That only serves to confuse him more, you’ve been acting off for a while now, had he cheated in his sleep or something? “What? You’re not my friend, though? That's not comparable.”

He doesn't even see you as a friend? You can't help the way your heart drops in a way you’ve never felt before in your life; it almost hurts the way he can just so easily dismiss you after all the time you’ve spent together—contractual or not. “I- I see how it is..”

“See how what is? You’re not making much sense.” His eyes narrow as you suddenly turn your head away from him, arms crossing firmly on your chest, but what doesn’t escape him is the sudden daze in your eyes. Gently, his hand grabs your chin, squashing your cheeks as he forces you to face him, and his mind instantly clicks all the pieces together.

“.. (Name).” He says firmly, making you let out a small hum in acknowledgement, unaware of the way your eyes are suddenly a lot wetter than they had been before.

“What did you drink earlier?”

“What? All I drank was water, mostly.”

“What about when I told you about Ada, was that water?” Your eyebrows furrow as you hear him repeat her name again, immediately growing more frustrated. “What about her now?”

He lets out a heavy sigh, wrapping a firm arm around your shoulders before he forces you to settle against the couch against him. “You drank some of my drink, didn't you? You were way too annoyed to even notice the whiskey I mixed in.”

The thought immediately clicks into your head; everything is suddenly a lot clearer now, even though you still weren't quite sober yet. Plus, you were pretty much a lightweight when it came to his strong stuff. It perfectly explained the warmth spreading through your chest, the uncoordinated actions, and the way nothing seemed to follow the way your head wanted it to. “S-still, you said I’m not even your friend.” Gently, his thumb rubs the tears that have formed in your eyes and tucks you close into him with his arm snugly around you. Just in case you decide to face plant off the couch as you seemed to want to do before. “You’re not my friend; you’re my wife. Who else would I treat like that?”

“I’m not your real wife though.” You slowly look up at him, turning your head, so your glossy eyes can stare up into his, searching for the right answer— the truth.

“Those papers seem pretty real to me. The way I feel is also pretty real to me.”

He grins at you like he hadn't doubted that fact for a second, and he hadn't, not since you both had signed and received the certificate, one he sometimes sneaks a small fond peek at whilst you’re sleeping. Not that he’d tell you, at least not yet.

“But— I’m not your wife; that’s my title, but I don't act like that.”

“So? I still love you as anyone would with their wife; do you really think I wouldn't fall for you? You’re even more perfect than I imagined.”

You’re momentarily stunned into silence, not quite expecting that but still not believing it quickly, your tipsy mind making you say things that you never would before.

“That's because I do everything for you— not that I mind b-but, I just act like a good partner. You don't feel romantically for me.” You huff, your teeth gritting together as you pettily narrow your eyes at him. What you hadn't considered is that he’d tuck your hair behind your ears, carefully pull you into his lap, and take one of your hands in his. He fondles your hand beneath his, his thumb rubbing gently over the skin before he brings it up to rest on his cheek, smiling fondly at you.

“I’ve been busy, I know. It’s quite hard having an agent as a partner, no? I already regret all the love I've lacked to give you.” This time, you’re positive that your cheeks are reacting to him, breath hiccuping when he turns his face in your grasp. His lips press a kiss to the palm of your hand before intertwining that hand with his and holding it against his heart.

“You just had to go get tipsy, didn't you?” The warmth of his hand on yours as he squeezes it gently is like a drug, one that squeezes your heart at the same rhythm whilst his teasing voice dances in the air around the two of you.

“Not my fault you always have to have a glass with dinner..” You grumble, not happy with how fast he had proven you wrong even if he had just confessed to his deepest feelings. He finds it quite endearing how stubborn a little bit of alcohol can make you. ”Alright, we can blame me for this one. How about you finish this pudding with me, and we can get you settled in bed, how does that sound?”

Before you know it, he’s wiping chocolate stains from your lips again as you sniffle in his lap, mumbling some nonsense about your so-called lack of lovelife while the movie plays in the background. He enjoys all your little comments about the movie, even when you subconsciously glance back at him when the couple starring do something romantic. Taking you up to bed is easy enough considering you’re only just bordering tipsy at the moment and you hardly weigh anything compared to the things he usually deals with. Your head just lolls lazily as he helps you upstairs, your eyes slowly blinking up at him when he sits you on the edge of the bed. “What pajamas do you want, pretty girl? How about your favourite?” The water he helped you drink before had sobered you up a little so you’re starting to feel better already. However, your mind is still a little hazy so you just nod along, not minding if this is the first time he undresses you.

Making sure to be gentle with you, he strips you down to your underwear before helping you pull on your warm sweatshirt and plaid pants. His lips twitched upwards when your own fingers tried to beat him with dressing yourself, finding it adorable how you still insisted on doing everything yourself. He could just put you to bed, but after watching for countless nights how you slave away at your skincare routine and keeping your teeth brushed well— he’d feel awful if he broke that. Before you know it, you’re sitting on the sink as he gently holds your jaw, his other hand using the electric toothbrush to clean your teeth. You’re a little uncooperative, swerving your head away at first until you just settle into a sleepy calm and he handles you with no problems. In no time he has you back on his lap, sitting at your small vanity as he carefully attempts to remember the order of your night time routine. What even is this? He thinks as he picks up a suspicious looking serum, labelled as snail mucin and gives it an experimental sniff. He thought it’d smell worse to be fair.

“No, you have to put the toner first and then the serum.” You mumble at him, gently tugging at his hands with your fingers and before he knows it, you have a toner pad all up in his face, wiping over his nose and cheeks before you cover the rest of his face.

“Hey- i’m meant to be doing your skincare. I don't need this stuff.”

He almost feels a pang of hurt in his chest as you raise an eyebrow at him, as if accusing him of having bad skin. With a huff, he removes the toner pad from your hands and throws it in the bin before gently pulling at your cheeks. “I have great skin, thank you. Dont give me that look.”

You immediately frown and attempt to puff your cheeks, causing him to have mercy and let go before he grabs a new toner pad and repeats your actions to yourself.

When you come back to your senses, your head is smushed against a pillow whilst he changes by the closet behind you. Your thoughts don't feel as hazy as they used to be, and you’re even starting to contemplate everything that happened earlier. Did he really mean what he meant? Did he actually like you.. romantically? You physically cringe at your own thoughts and hide your face behind your hands, groaning just quiet enough that he doesn't quite hear it. Sleeping next to him had always felt odd to you, but you always slept at different times so it never really felt romantic in any sort of way. You liked to stay up late and he liked to get a decent rest before the next morning. It was only recently that you started glancing at his sleeping face beside you, admiring the peace in his expression when he lost himself to his dreams and no other worries. Otherwise, it just felt like a roommate, nothing more nothing less.

But now his trousers were falling to the floor behind you, and you were laying in bed not quite falling asleep nor attempting to stay up. Suddenly, he wanted to sleep with you, not only beside you. It suddenly felt all too real that you two were actually married, actually partners and actually slept beside each other each night. What next, were the notes you left in his lunch romantic too? In truth, you were slightly freaking out but that might’ve been the alcohol making things a hundred times worse than they should’ve been, especially since you had started crying unannounced earlier. That’ll play in the back of your mind forever but for now you’re focused on his soft footsteps as he approaches the bed, dressed in a much looser shirt and pants. He always slept like this but this time he looks down at you, one finger gently poking your cheek as he sits on the other end of the bed.

“I actually prefer to sleep with my shirt off. But we always fell asleep at different times so I never got to ask your permission.”

He hums quietly, the finger now gently rubbing along the soft curve of your cheek instead.

“You can.. I don't mind.” You say quietly, eyes trailing over his form as he settles himself against the headboard right beside you. Touching you.

“Are you sure your cheeks won't get too red?”

He teases, hand moving towards the top of your head to gently card his fingers through your locks. You push yourself up to a sitting position, letting out a soft yawn as you do so before you blink at him hazily again. This time, you press forward and place your hand on his abdomen, absentmindedly rubbing your finger there back and forth. “I want to see your injuries.”

Not even he can stop the way his face softens at that and he tucks you into his side again, his other hand pulling the shirt up and over his head to discard onto the carpet beneath the bed. This view is only for you: his paled skin, the fresh scars, the old scars, fading bruises and fresh bruises, stitches that fall out and others that are pulled tight but most of all, his body. All for your eyes only, only for you. Your hand runs gently over the outline of his newest bruise, a deep purple that covers the entire expanse of his hip. It’s blooming into something worse and you’re sure it’ll hurt more tomorrow, not that he’d ever complain about that anyway. “You always come home with injuries, and you just play them off. Don't they hurt? Don't you want me to care for you?”

You say quietly, voice even softer now that you’ve sobered up, and he just lets out a breath, his face turning to watch the way your brows furrow and your lips press together. To have someone fuss over him like this is something he never thought about much, but it didn't mean he hadn’t craved the idea before. Yours was genuine worry, and you always held that genuine care for him. But it felt different now, more natural, more intimate. Like he was the only one you would worry about like this— he loved that feeling.

“I don't ever want you to worry about a thing, even if I do like the way your eyebrows crease when you do.” He chuckles softly, leaning down to press his lips affectionately against your hair before sitting back up properly again. “I suppose if you really want to.. I couldn't deny I'd be flattered to have you care for me.” The curve of your lips is what makes him smile as well, finding it all too endearing how easily a grin can form on your face.

“You’re such a flirt..” You mutter, trying to play it off and wiggle out of his hold on you, only serving for him to raise an amusing brow at you. “I’m only making up for what I can’t do to a tipsy girl.”

“I’m not tipsy..” You argue, sitting up a little straighter which makes his arm gently rest on your lower back instead.

“Oh? Really now? Let me test you then, since I used to be a policeman.”

“Fine, give me what you’ve got.”

“Sing the alphabet backwards if you’re sober.”

You instantly splutter, shaking your head quickly.

“Hey! Not even a normal person can do that. I knew you didn't actually like me.” He has to stop himself from rolling his eyes up at your grumbling, squashing your cheeks to make you shush.

“Is it really a crime that I don't want you to forget our first kiss because of some stupid whiskey?”

“Your stupid whiskey.” He finally rolls his eyes at your retort, gently pushing you back into bed and pulling the covers up and over you. “Alright fine, my stupid whiskey. Now, be honest with me, are you sober?”

The little frown on your face has disappeared with the hope his question brings, and you nod quietly, wide eyes looking into his.

“Are you very sure?” You were definitely sober now, his voice immediately lowering to a rasp as his hands travel up to cup the soft curves of your cheeks as they begin to turn pink. Just like that, he’s the man you’ve fallen for all over again, soft strands of fair hair framing his chiselled face as if they’re perfectly placed to put you under his spell. His index tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, gently rubbing the skin of your cheek with his calloused thumbs. His skin is so rough and yet you can't help but feel he is so soft at this moment; his eyes are like gentle waves, looking at you so fondly that you finally remember to reply.

“I-i'm sure.”

He doesn't hesitate, leaning in closer until his nose just touches the tip of yours, eyes locked onto every small movement you can even think about doing. “Can I?” The nod you give is the green light he’s always dreamed of; this day is all he has ever thought about since you joined his life. You let your eyes flutter closed, feel the warmth of his breath that tickles your skin as he draws closer and closer until his lips meet yours so gently. You have to physically stop yourself from giggling, probably the alcohol still trying to make a fool of you, but you just can't believe he’s the one wrapping you in his touch. Likewise, you wrap your arms around his neck, and he lets out a small gasp when you suddenly gain the strength to meet him upright, almost as if you’re threatening to pin him instead. Of course, he couldn't just let that slide easily. So, as anyone would, he pushes you back down into the mound of pillows, causing you to squeal as he leaves his touch all over your face, fleeting kisses painting your skin a rosy red. “You better not forget this in the morning.” He scoffs playfully as your eyes squeeze shut, giggles that spill out your mouth while he gives the affection he’s craved to gift to someone for years.

His job is hard, his life has been hard, and even this marriage initially felt the same. It wasn't so much the fact that he had essentially tied himself down to someone he barely knew, it was the realisation that he would never find his one person. That's why he did this after all, it seemed like it’d benefit the both of you and the day where he’d actually have a woman by his side slipped away with each mission. You, you were different though. You may have been an agent before, but outside of work you were the sweetest thing. Always subconsciously fussing over him, delaying sleep to prepare his lunch no matter how much he insisted you didn't need to, taking a personal duty to look after his cat, and still not being afraid to ask him when he seemed low or uncomfortable. You were everything he never had, even the annoying nagging of trying to get him to not lay on the couch after he ate or the fact that's his third whiskey yet.

Corny lines, the occasional flirty remark, dragging you to watch a movie— he wanted to do all of that before so you’d become actually his, actually the one he could say he loves and loves him back. But things got in the way, life got in the way, and he was starting to see his opportunities dissolve with each tired return from the mission. Despite his grumpy attitudes some days, his exhausted look as he collapsed into bed at eight, you still managed to fuss over him all the same— never once did you treat him differently, if not for the fact you’d cook him a slightly nicer meal after missions.

He was still busy, yes of course, but somehow he had managed to win you over. Maybe it was his silly jokes, though he’d seen you stare at his hair many times before so maybe that caught your eye. In any case, he’s happy to give any part of him to you, if not all of him. So when he’s pressed the last kiss on your nose and pulls the covers high over you, he tucks you into his chest, a final kiss to your temple as he looks down at your angelic expression. The way your smile curves at literally nothing but his touch is enough to make him fold right there, but he doesn't right now, squeezing you against him.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. I love you.”

He whispers out, and you can't ignore it, eyes snapping up to look at him just from those three words. He sees the wonder in your eyes, the way they question the truth and if this really is real. Then you nod slowly, tuck your head into his chest, nestled against the beat of his heart.

“I love you too.”

[selineram3421]

👁️

You're Off-key

Part 1

Prologue

Reader X Gravity Falls

Warnings ⚠

⚠ italics=thoughts, swear words, some or many book of bill spoils, blood, mentions of a concussion, minor panic attack, we pacing now lol, ugh Disney mention ⚠

Ow..

You woke up in pain and the sunlight hitting your eyes.

Everything hurt.

Like a lot.

Geez.. You thought with a groan. Why is everything so bright? What is this vividness? Disney?

Sitting up, you notice that you're still in the woods and it's around noon or at least in the afternoon. Rubbing the back of your head, you try to remember what happened.

I was in the woods..with spaghetti and..my best friend was going to take my picture. Ow-!

You hiss and you pull your hand away from your head, finding blood once getting a look at it.

"Oof ok, time to go get help.", you said to yourself and stood up.

Like any gamer out there, you checked your surroundings before checking your inventory. So far you were deep in the woods that looked oddly..cartoonish? And you had a backpack nearby with a water bottle, phone, and wallet inside.

Where's my flashlight? Wait, I had a flashlight? Also, where's by bestie?

Every time you thought about it your head would start hurting.

"Never mind that, I have to get moving before it gets dark out.", you sighed and began walking.

In all honesty, you did not know where you were going. Just picked a direction and decided that was good enough. Maybe you'll find civilization or maybe you're walking deeper into the woods. Who knows!

My brain is a little optimistic right now. You thought. Or maybe it's due to lack of sleep.. I was driving the whole time.

Then you started getting a little clumsy.

Tripping, swaying, falling flat on your face a few times, and overall just feeling drained. Also, you kept hearing maracas? Was that some kind of bird or something?

Ah, wait. Wasn't that the Hide Behind? You remembered about reading it in Journal 3 and that scene when Mabel says maraca owl. Maybe it is a maraca owl or maybe it's the tall thing that follows people.

Currently, you were laying on the ground because you fell..haha. AGAIN.

Thank Glob you landed on grass this time.

Ok. Do I or do I not take a nap? Probably not the best choice because I might have a concussion. Hm..the choices.

Deciding on one last try, you push yourself off the ground, take a quick sip of water, and continue on your journey! Nothing was gonna stop you now-!

Oh, a bird!

Then you ran into something, fell back and hit your head on the ground.

It was silly because it was kinda like a light switch.

You were awake and then you passed out,

Ha!

⯅

OW! How many times am I going to wake up in pain!?

"Great job Dipper! You killed someone!", a feminine voice said.

"They aren't dead! They just hit their head and passed oUt after they fell!", another voice says with a slight voice crack.

"Haha ha!", the girl laughs. "Your voice cracked."

Slowly waking up, you feel a type of rocking motion, like you're in a car or something.

A car!?

You sit up quickly. Too quickly and almost fall out of the golf cart but someone manages to pull you back to the seat.

"Whoa! Careful, you do not want to fall out of this thing when going almost full speed.", the female voice says next to you.

Looking over, you find a brown haired girl wearing a keyboard sweater.

"Hi! I'm Mabel! I have a pet pig named Waddles!!", she introduces herself loudly.

You feel your head hurt at her polite screeching.

"Ow. Hold on, give me a sec.", you say and rub your forehead.

"Uh.. Mabel? It's not a good idea to be loud around someone who just woke up after hitting their head.", the guy says, who you are assuming is driving the golf cart.

"Oops.", the girl, Mabel, smiles at you sheepishly. "My bad."

You wave her off.

"It's fine, I've dealt with worse.", you reassure.

"Let me start again.", she says and extends a hand for you to shake. "I'm Mabel and the one driving the golf cart is my twin brother, Dipper."

"STOP THE CART!"

The golf cart screeches to a stop and you hobbled your way out, beginning to pace back and forth.

Holyshitthisexplainsalot!That'swhyeverythingwassobrightandcartoonybecasuethisisfuckingDisneyshit!AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHH-!

"Uh..you ok there?", Mabel asks.

"Um? Maybe? I-", you begin but then panic about what to say next.

Shitshitshitshit! Think of something! Anything!

"I don't remember how I got into the woods..", you say and cringe.

Yeah! Nice job! Now you're suspicious! YA DOINKUS!

"O..k, so you hit your head harder than we thought.", Dipper speaks up. "Let's get you patched up and see what we can do from there, ok?"

Pros: Going with two of your favorite characters will lead to adventures. Cons: They might try to read your mind to see if you're a threat and might threaten you with some random weapons..

.....

"I guess I can go with you guys until I can go to the hospital or something.", you say and finally stop imprinting foot prints into the dirt.

"Cool!", Mabel cheers. "Let's go! I've got Mabel juice in the fridge and I wanna see if the new dinosaurs inside taste different!"

"That's not how that works.", her brother mumbles and puts the golf cart in drive.

Hopping back on, you notice your backpack was opened.

"Uh? Who raccooned into my pack?", you asked.

"Racooned?", the Pines driving asks.

"Dug through your stuff? That was Dip.", Mabel says, completely understanding what you meant.

"Oh, sorry.", Dipper pipes up. "That was to see your ID, nothing else. I mean, wouldn't you try to identify someone after they passed out randomly?"

He is kinda right.

"Understandable racooning.", you say and start to brain storm ideas for a plan on how to stay under the radar.

Ok, so I might have/most likely freed Bill and now I have to do something about it before he's running wild around Gravity Falls again...fun.

You sigh and just decide to sit back and enjoy the ride for now.

Jerk didn't let me keep the pictures.

The sun was starting to set, within a few minutes you saw the Mystery Shack in the distance.

23 1 12 11 9 14 20 15 20 8 5 16 9 14 5 19

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

@diffidentphantom @sleep-7372 @boredwithlifeatthispoint @mspurpl3 @+?

GF List🏞️ | YO-🎹

[thehereticdiaries]

Pack Mentality: Chapter Three

Chapter Summary: You upgrade your phone and return to your parents' house to pack. Chan has some choice words for your father. You get some one-on-one time with the pack alpha.

Warnings: Implied slut-shaming

Series Masterlist

Later that night, you climbed into bed next to Felix. The blonde lent you a t-shirt and sweats to wear to sleep. You had to tie the drawstring on the pants super tight to keep them from falling off. You practically laid on top of your fellow omega, tucking your nose into his collarbone.

“Hey Felix?” He hummed in acknowledgment. “I don’t want to be rude, but why don’t you and Chan share a room?”

“Normally we do. Jeongin was a late bloomer, he only just presented as an alpha a few months ago. I swapped rooms with him for a bit so Chan can help him adjust to his new instincts.” The current room arrangements paired Chan with Jeongin, Changbin with Hyunjin, Minho with Jisung, and finally the room you were in now: Seungmin and Felix. 

“Hey, you should get some sleep,” Seungmin announced after shutting the door behind him. You were only a little jealous of how cozy his sleep pants looked. “You went through a lot today, and you have a lot to do tomorrow.”

“I know.” The beta leaned over Felix to press a quick kiss to your temple, then settled into his own bed. “Seungmin?”

“What’s up, love?”

“Thank you, for everything.”

It took Felix over ten minutes to drag you out of bed. It was already later in the morning, so you had to get ready to head out right after leaving the warm cocoon of blankets. You changed into your jeans from yesterday and a clean sweater from Minho. 

“Come on, Chan’s probably bugging out cus we’re leaving later than he wanted to,” Felix snickered. Sure enough, the pack alpha was pacing the kitchen. He seriously wanted to get this over with so you could finally be rid of your father. You were handed a granola bar and corralled out the door. 

Getting your phone upgraded and on to the pack’s plan was fairly easy, albeit extremely tedious. You were in the store for nearly an hour and a half. By the end of it, you were bored out of your mind. Since your dad didn’t allow any social media accounts (every new tidbit of information about your dad pissed your pack members off even more), you watched Felix scroll through his. Finally, you exited the store with an iPhone 15 wrapped in a floral case and screen protector. You used your old phone to let your mom know you were on your way. 

“Hi, honey!” Your mom swung the door open before you could even take your keys out of your pocket. 

“Hi mom,” you smiled at her. “These are my friends Chan, Felix, and Changbin. They’re gonna help me pack and get my stuff to the new apartment.”

“Oh, Ji-ah couldn’t come?” You shook your head. The worry was evident on her face, and it made you feel even worse about lying to her.

“She’s getting her own boxes unpacked,” you explained. “I’ll introduce you soon, I promise.” Your mom stepped to the side so you could come in. 

“Your father’s in the kitchen, you should go say hi.” Chan tensed at your side. “We have some boxes in the garage, I’ll show your friends where they are.”

“I can go with Y/N, I’m sure her dad would like to know that we’re gonna take good care of her.” Felix rested his hand on your lower back.

“Her and Ji-ah, I hope,” your mom teased.

“Of course, ma’am. We actually live on the floor above them, so if you’d like any of our phone numbers please let us know,” Chan offered. Your mom perked up a bit, nodding and taking out her phone as she led the alphas to the garage. Your dad leaned against the counter, sipping on a cup of coffee. 

“Well, I didn’t think I’d be seeing you back so soon. You must be real excited to be the shiny new toy for those alpha boys,” he smirked over the rim of the mug. Felix’s face hardened, a complete contrast to his gentle hands taking your old phone.

“Here, you can have this piece of shit back.” Felix approached your dad and threw the phone on the counter next to him. Your dad glared at the phone, then at Felix.

“You better watch your fucking tone with me, omega,” he sneered and slammed his mug on the counter. Coffee spilled over the side and onto your old phone. Felix didn’t falter under the intensity of your father. The blonde tilted his head, baring his teeth in challenge.

“Or what?” Your dad clenched his fists at his sides and took a step toward Felix. You held your breath.

“The boxes are ready!” You thanked every god you could think of when your mom poked her head into the kitchen. It was like flipping a switch. At the sight of your mom, your dad’s demeanor instantly turned friendly. 

“If you ever need any help, you know we’re just a phone call away.” Your dad ruffled your hair and stalked over to his home office. You took a deep, shuddering breath before leading Felix to your room. Chan and Changbin were already inside with boxes set up. 

“I’ll leave you to it. Let me know if you need anything,” your mom said as she closed the door. 

“I fucking hate your dad,” Felix scoffed after your mom’s footsteps faded. 

“What did he do?” Chan bristled. A muscle twitched in Chan’s neck as he ground his teeth.

“Called our omega a “shiny new toy” then tried to intimidate me,” Felix shrugged. Chan scoffed, tongue poking the inside of his cheek.

“Can we please just pack so we can leave?” You pleaded, already tense from the confrontation in the kitchen. They nodded, silently moving to put your entire life into cardboard boxes. You paused in the middle of folding a t-shirt. “What are we going to do about my furniture? My mom thinks I’m moving into an apartment, I can’t just leave it here.

“I can have a moving company take them later in the week. Whether we put it in storage or donate it is up to you,” Chan offered without looking up from your photo album. Inside were dozens of photos from when you were young, before you presented as an omega. You looked like a perfect family. You rarely went through that album anymore. The memories made your heart ache too much. 

After an hour, you had all of your essentials loaded into five boxes. You tried to help Chan and Changbin carry them out to the SUV, but they were having none of it. You and Felix leaned on the hood of the car. Your mom approached and engulfed you in a tight hug. Felix rubbed circles on your shoulders while you exchanged teary goodbyes.

“If you need anything please let me know,” your mom urged. She cupped your face in her hands.

“I will, I promise.” You covered one of her hands with your own. She smiled, a mix of pride and sadness welling in her chest.

“When did my baby girl get so grown up?” You dug yourself back into her neck, basking in her comforting scent for what might be the last time for a while. 

Your dad stood in front of the door, arms crossed but a neutral look adorning his face. Changbin was getting the last box into the trunk, so Chan took the opportunity to talk to your dad.

“Can I give you a piece of advice, man to man?” Chan shoved his hands into his pockets. Your dad raised an eyebrow.

“I’d hardly call you a man, but I’ll humor you.” Chan’s easy-going posture immediately straightened out so he stood at his full height. He glowered down at your father, eyes cold and steely. He leaned closer, invading your dad’s space.

“Don’t ever fuck with my omegas,” he growled low in his chest. Chan stepped back, satisfied with the hint of fear swimming in your dad’s eyes. With one final goodbye to your mom, the four of you climbed into the car and drove off toward the dorms. Felix messaged the group chat to let everyone know you were almost home. You pulled into a parking spot and were met with Minho, Jeongin, and Seungmin waiting to help unload the car.

“Is this everything?” Jeongin asked. “Only five boxes?” You nodded sheepishly. The young alpha shrugged and lifted one of the boxes, followed quickly by the other non-omegas. 

“Where should I put everything?” You looked at Chan once in the elevator. 

“For now, try to keep the boxes mostly packed. You may not want your own bed, but we’ll have to get you a dresser for yourself.” He nudged you with his elbow. You hummed in affirmation. Your boxes were stacked in the corner of Seungmin and Felix’s room. 

“I’ll get lunch started,” Minho said mostly to himself as he moved to the kitchen. Everyone followed suit, but you stopped Chan by tugging the back of his shirt. 

“Everything alright?” He ran a hand down your arm, stopping to hold the hand on his shirt. 

“Yea, but can we talk for a minute?” Chan closed the door and sat next to you on Felix’s bed. He rested a hand on your knee. “I heard what you said to my dad before we left.”

“I was hoping you didn’t, but I can’t say I regret doing it,” he admitted with a squeeze to your knee. You leaned your chin on his shoulder.

“I’m not upset. I’m telling you because it made me really happy to hear you call me your omega.” You felt his smile when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“You are my omega.” You forced down the purr that threatened to rise in the back of your throat. 

“I want the pack bond,” you blurted out before you lost your spark of confidence. Chan pulled you back by your shoulders, meeting your eyes with an intensity you weren’t expecting. 

“Are you absolutely sure? I don’t want you to feel pressured to–”

“Chan,” you interrupted his rant. His lips pressed into a thin line. “I thought about it the entire ride back here. I’m not doing this because I feel obligated. I want it.” His face softened. He looked at you with a fierce tenderness you’d never seen in anyone. His hands trailed up to your jaw, running his thumb across your heated cheek. 

“Can I kiss you?” You nodded without hesitation. His first kiss was feather-light, giving you an opportunity to pull back if you wanted to. When you didn’t, he pressed further into you, one hand cupping the back of your neck and the other resting on your waist. His tongue darted out against your bottom lip, and you parted them so he could lick into your mouth. You squeaked when he nipped at your lip. He breathed out a laugh at your reactions, moving from your mouth down to the sensitive skin under your ear. His kisses were hot and heavy as he worked his way to your scent gland, already addicted to the taste of you. 

“Ready?” He mumbled against your neck. You nodded, heart racing against your ribcage. “I need words, baby.”

“I’m ready, please, Chan.” He licked over your gland one last time. Then his teeth sunk into your skin, sending a rush of emotions down your spine. You couldn't stop the quiet moan that fell from your lips. He bit down harder, then pulled back to soothe the fresh wound with his tongue. Once he was satisfied, he leaned back to admire the bite and your sappy, dazed expression.

“Your turn,” Chan smiled and pulled his t-shirt to the side, revealing overlapping bond marks. You copied his actions, littering his neck with soft kisses. He gripped the comforter to hold himself back. Finally, you bit down to add a mark of your own to his collection. You released your hold on his gland and before you could lap at the blood seeping from the new mark, Chan kissed you again hard. His fingers skimmed under the hem of your shirt. This was when your stomach decided to interrupt with a loud grumble.

“Sorry,” you giggled and rested your forehead against his. Chan pressed another quick kiss to your lips before pulling you up and out to the kitchen. To say the others were excited about your new bond would be the understatement of the century. You were practically drowned in the pack’s kisses, only saved by food being set on the table. 

A week flew by and you were happier than you’ve ever been in the past couple of years. There was only one thing lingering in the back of your mind. Your heat was getting closer and you had yet to tell Chan what you wanted to do. It wasn’t on purpose, but between their schedule and your classes you didn’t have time to talk to him. Your opportunity arose when everyone except for you, Chan, and Hyunin went out to get drinks at a bar down the street. You softly knocked on the door to Chan and Jeongin’s room. The former twisted around in his office chair, pulling his headphone down to rest on his neck.

“Hey, love, you doing alright?”

“Yes, but I do need to tell you something.” You stepped further into the room, hesitating by the end of the desk. He patted his lap and held his arms open for you. After you made yourself comfortable you hyped yourself up to say what was on your mind.

“Okay, I thought about what you told me on my first night here.” You paused, trying to word this correctly. “I’ve decided that I want your help. I don’t want to be alone for my heat”

“I’m not gonna lie, I was really hoping you’d say that,” Chan smirked at your blush. You flicked his forehead.

“I’m not done!” You huffed. He raised his eyebrows at your bold teasing. You averted your gaze to your lap. “I also want your claim.” He inhaled sharply, dropping his head to your shoulder for a brief moment before turning your face back to his with a finger under your chin. 

“Darling, I would be more than happy to do both of those for you. We’ll go to the sanctuary hotel to get a room set up.” You furrowed your brows.

“We both need to go? Wait, why are we even going to a hotel?”

“We’re going to the hotel because if anyone interrupts I might start throwing punches.” Your jaw dropped.

“What?!” 

“Sorry.” Chan winced. “That was meant to be a joke.” You visibly relaxed. “But in all seriousness, we’re going because I don’t want you overwhelmed by everyone. This will be your first heat with us and it’s very soon after we met. I’d like to give you more time to settle in before more than one of us are there for your heat.” Your face turned bright red at the implication.

“O-okay, but I still don’t know why we both need to go to set up the reservation.”

“You have to sign some paperwork to confirm that I’m allowed in your room. They take the safety of the omegas very seriously. No alpha or beta is allowed past the reception desk without verifying their ID and getting checked by security.” 

“Oh, wow, that’s actually really nice,” you commented. “When can we go?” Chan smiled with a look in his eye reserved for you and Felix. He captured your lips with his own for a quick but sweet kiss. 

“We’ll go on Monday.” He patted your hip. “You wanna stay here or hang out with Hyunjin?” You wrapped your arms tighter around his neck.

“Here.”

“I gotta warn you, it’s gonna be boring since I’m just working on some new mixes.” You borderline purr against his neck. He pecked your forehead and slid his headphones back on, focusing on his PC and enjoying your warmth.

Permanent Taglist: @furfoxsake22 @babygirlskz98 @miniverse-zen @holly-here

Series Taglist (Names in red could not be tagged): @ihrtlix @ohh-to-be-rich-and-pretty @queen-in-the-shadows @whoreforeverythingspice @staytinyluv @bear8585 @lxvxchxrlxttxbxrsx22-blog @chaoticfaelle @emo-cosplayer @cookiesandcreammy @m00njinnie

[damagedintellect]

Alpha Fyodor x Omega Fem!Reader

💌 The Poetic Nature of the DOA Novelist: Chapter 1?  💌  

Summary:  You were hired as the DOA's novelist, usually Nikolai is your heat partner but sometimes Fyodor takes advantage of the fact that you are an omega

Notes:  I'm drunk and on my period there's not enough omegaverse for me to consume so fuck I gotta wrtie me own ughhhh why caan;t my fingers hit the right letters.m I'll fix it when I'm sober. Sober me here fuck it I'm gonna keep it, I just can't be bothered

Fem!Omega reader bc it's self indulgent 🍋

💌 Word count: 2,540 💌  You are here | Chapter 2??? idk durnk me wants a part 2 but w/Nikolai 🍋

Your mind has been foggy all day and only seems to be getting worse by the hour. You’ve been staring blankly at the pen in your hands, unable to focus on finishing your current sentence. Last night you thought it was a fever but looking at the calendar you groaned. That's when the realization hits you, your heat came early and that's why you feel so out of it. You step into the hallway knocking on Nikolai's door. No response, there's a good chance the alpha was out. You pressed your head against the door.

This wasn't good.

You tried jiggling the knob but it was locked and there was no key, only Nikolai could open the door. You've tried to pick the lock before it doesn't work. That's what you hated the most. All you wanted was to make your nest but Nikolai hates when others go snooping through his things. Which was fair even though Fyodor and Sigma both respect each other's personal boundaries but Nikolai is Nikolai you supposed. Thinking about it, the alpha in question was the only one who has ever sifted through everyone's personal belongings. Besides the point without his body or even his scent you were starting to suffer. The curse of being an unmated omega.

You sniff the air trying to see if anyone else was around who would know when he'd be back. To your dismay it seems only Fyodor is here at the base. Go figure. Outside of recruitment you've never seen Fukichi or Bram around and now that Sigma has his casino to run, this has been the case more often than not. You hobble over to his door which was already open. He must not be busy at the moment otherwise he wouldn't let the others openly pester him. You knocked at the entrance before letting yourself in as he was typing away at his computer.

"I assume you're not that busy right now?" You glanced at his twelve monitors, unable to comprehend the mess displayed across the screens.

"Correct." He glanced over his shoulder "I assume your heat came early?"

"Correct. Can I sit in your lap until Nikolai gets back? I would ask for your blanket or pillow or something but I already know it wouldn't smell like alpha." He doesn't sleep in them most nights so why would they. Sure you could have asked for his ushanka but he wasn't wearing it strangely enough. You liked when he didn’t have his hat. His hair was beautiful. You want to run your fingers through it, maybe even braid it like Nikolai’s.

The alpha smirked, motioning you to take your seat. He must have planned this. There's a good chance he just sent Nikolai off to make you desperate. Normally Nikolai's schedule works around your heats perfectly and Fyodor's in charge of planning the timeline of events. What an asshole. It's a shame he's the only one who can help you right now. Honestly you want to be mad but your inner omega has a thing for this bastard.

You situated yourself so that you were facing Fyodor. He even went as far to lower his chair to help you get into his lap. Once comfortable you nuzzled into his neck breathing him in. Just the scent of the alpha alone was already making the dull ache dissipate. You were safe and protected and even though you know you were never in any danger your body needed the confirmation. Secondary genders suck.

When you were recruited as the novelist for the DOA Fyodor was quick to make it known he had no interest in helping with your heats but after Nikolai volunteered to be your heat partner you noticed Fyodor's almost taken aback expression. Then Fyodor's rut hit when you were the only one around. Which at the time was odd but thinking back surely he planned that too. He cornered you, had his way with you and you would hate to admit it but you liked it. You liked it a lot and that's a horrible thing to admit. You would have never expected to have a thing for the russian. It’s not like you were even an acquaintance, nor was he someone you despised. You were just here for the job and by technicalities he was your employer. 

Fyodor was always cold and distant until he needed something, which from you was very rare. You could even say he seemed kind of bored and aloof until you got him talking about his master plans but even then he kept the details to a minimum. However after being forced to spend his rut with him your view of Fyodor started shifting. There was something about how assertive he was yet uncharacteristically affectionate towards you that left you in awe. It was like you were pulling back the curtain ever so slightly to see that there really was a human behind the facade. That and his scent drove you crazy as is and it's extremely subtle, so subtle that you can't even smell it half the time. 

The moment he was consciously himself again, he smiled wickedly or rather you think deranged would be a better word. He kicked you to the curb without any acknowledgment of what possessed him to have such poor planning. This has repeated for a few cycles at this point and things didn't add up. You were used to his hot cold demeanor by now but you still don't understand why he makes a big deal out of it. Actually scratch that you knew it's because it bothered him that his secondary gender takes control of his actions. He doesn't take any blockers or suppressants, apparently for religious reasons, but still. He holds great disdain for the fact that no matter how he feels about you deep down there will always be that innate instinct to take care of you simply because you're an unmated omega.

At the end of the day you don't care who fucks your brains out but Fyodor likes playing with his food. Which is why you wish Nikolai would come back already. Your hole ached to be filled. Nikolai teases you but he always makes sure you are taken care of. He was the best alpha of the DOA in your opinion. The two of you had such instant chemistry and you talk about it often enough. Honestly you don't know why he doesn't just claim you now but that's Nikolai for you. He likes his freedom and you can admire that. A man who sticks to his philosophy. Fyodor confuses you because he says one thing but will do another. Like right now, providing his scent to comfort you.

You slowly rocked your hips into Fyodor whimpering pathetically. You could  practically hear the grin as he hummed. You took another deep breath of the alpha's scent. You would kill for him to scent you right now. You'd kill for anyone to scent you right now. Your movement grinds to a halt when his fingers dig into your side. 

"Enough of that, continue and lose your scent privilege."

Had you been in your right mind you would have laughed. You didn't know you had scent privileges. That would sound a lot like helping with your heat. Part of you hopes you'll remember this when your heat is over so you could throw it in his face. Instead you begged and moaned under his touch.

"P-please, just let me warm you until Nikolai gets back. Being filled is enough. I can't think straight. Everything hurts."

The sentence was shaky at best but you felt him twitch between your legs. He was already mostly hard from your lazy attempt at relief. You didn't even expect him to answer your half drunken rambling when he sighed.

"Fine, if you wish to fuck yourself silly than be my guest but I offer no further assistance."

His tone was as uninterested as usual but it sent shivers down your spine as you fumble with his pants to set his cock free. His expression was neutral but there was a sharpness to his features that was undeniable. For the first time since entering the room his eyes were glued on you as you hastily situated your own clothes and aligned yourself, sinking down on his inches. You were twitching and holding back moans as you bottomed out. Instant relief and pleasure flooded your senses. The sensation of feeling full was so divine. You stayed there panting into Fyodor's neck refusing to move. You prayed that this would be enough. The last thing you want to do is beg him for help.

You gasped, biting the back of your hand as you felt him twitch inside you. You clenched around him involuntarily feeling a wave of pleasure wrack through your body. You were drooling at the fullness while gripping his shoulders tightly. He technically gave you permission to move but you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction. Although your head was screaming at you otherwise. His scent was growing stronger, it had you reeling almost like he was urging you to help yourself. To be a good little omega. 

To be, his, good little omega. 

With that in mind you slowly rolled your hips choking on a moan as your body twitched around him again. The angle he was able to hit like this was driving you mad. Why have you never done this before? You would have to make a note of this for later. You’ve fooled around with Nikolai quite a bit so why have you never fucked on a chair? With how sensitive you were in heat you could cum just like this. It took all of your strength to lift yourself up enough to sink back down completely. He was just long enough to brush past the right spot to make your legs feel like jelly.

True to his word he did not help you although his hand found itself around your waist. Probably to make sure you didn't fall out of the chair. Your body was spasming in pleasure to the point where your thighs were shaking an awful lot and you have yet to cum. The sheer idea of being bred was enough to satisfy that urge. It felt so good you might even pass out. The more you inhaled his scent the further your mind slipped into heat. You were too busy chasing that high you hadn’t noticed the low grunts and panting in your ear. If you took the time to observe Fyodor you would have seen just how disheveled his demeanor had become.

 A thin layer of sweat plastered his bangs to his forehead. He stopped typing ages ago but he still managed to maneuver the mouse around, doing who knows what. His breathing had become ragged when you started moving and the grip on your waist had tightened. You hoped it would leave marks for Nikolai to see. His eyes jumped back and forth from his monitor to you. At this rate neither of you would last much longer.

“F-Fyodor, nnghh, I'm-”

He pressed his lips to your ear murmuring “Cum for me darling” in that deep rich tone of his before he kissed your temple. You slump against him gripping his shoulders tightly as you reach your climax. You were such a panting mess you didn't notice Nikolai had been standing in the doorway the whole time.

The jester took that as his cue to enter the scene bouncing over to you both. “I'm back, did I miss anything?” Nikolai surveys the room cheerful as ever, wiggling his eyebrows while Fyodor's expression goes flat. 

He leaned into Fyodor’s personal space with excitement “Oh good you finally confessed! It's about time you figured it out. Honestly it was so uncharacteristic for you of all people to be the last one to know.” He clapped his hands as Fyodor frowned.

“I do not understand what you are referring to, neither (Y/N) nor I made any confession. I was simply minding my business when her preheat kicked in.” There was something about the way that Fyodor said it that sounded dismissive like he was trying to convince himself that it was true.

Nikolai rolled his eyes “Well then if you haven't realized it that's fine. I'll be taking her now if it's all the same to you.” his smile turned into a sneer.

“By all means her heat is your responsibility after all.”

Nikolai helped delicately peel you out of Fyodor's lap holding you in his arms like a princess. You were extremely sensitive to touch and both Alpha's couldn't hide the soft satisfied expression as they watched you enter Nikolai's cape. 

“Careful Dos-kun, get too attached and I might have to claim her for myself~” the jester teased even though Fyodor knew if it came down to it Nikolai wouldn't mind sharing at all. 

It was the reason he knew he could get away with using you during his rut cycles. Although the first time was purely a miscalculation on his part, but he digressed. The rest was about convenience. Fyodor had or ever wanted to have rut partners in the past, which was unfortunate because having one makes things so much easier to manage. Besides the point he was getting sidetracked in his head.

“As if the thought doesn't excite you.” Fyodor quipped back as his attention was drawn to his monitor. Dazai had managed to put him in check twice since you was being very distracting.

Nikolai laughed ruffling the other’s hair. “Guilty as charged but still,” he trailed off turning towards the door “It's not fair to play games with someone who doesn't know they're playing a game.” Nikolai waved his coat as he vanished to his room leaving Fyodor to scowl at the vacant space.

You were happily making your nest on Nikolai's bed. The room smelled very strongly of the alpha, it helped keep your mind clear especially after you came on Fyodor's cock. In your brain the faster you set up your nest the quicker you could be knotted. Slick was still running down your thigh when Nikolai joined you leaning over your shoulder. “I like what you've done with the place.” He snickered, placing a kiss on your scent gland “Can't wait to ruin it!” He chirped.

You moaned as he pressed himself against your backside. His hands were set on removing the rest of your clothes “By the way did you know Fyodor was playing chess with Dazai that entire time?”

Your eyes widened at the sudden insight. “That's what he was doing! I'm surprised he even let me in then, he hates losing to Dazai.”

Nikolai's hands danced across your exposed skin, kissing everywhere he could while undressing himself. “That's how important you are to him.” 

You scoffed “Yeah as if.”

You can’t say he didn’t try, Nikolai has known for a while now that you and Fyodor are fated mates. He's astonished that neither of you could smell it on each other. It wasn’t his job to interfere though he hoped that you'd realize it sooner, But that's not his problem!

[sim0nril3y]

Night Out

Pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Civilian!Reader Scenario: After a night out with your friends Simon is happy to care for you even if you make his life hell sometimes. Warnings: No mask Simon (It's my personal headcanon in his regular life he probably wouldn't wear it), established relationship, tiny mention of smut pre-going out, drunk chaos, hurting knee, canon-typical swearing.

It was late, much later than Simon would usually have stayed up. Being a solider his body was used to a strict routine; his years of services made it so he would go to bed early and then would be up early as not to waste any of the day. There would be often when he would be woken in the night by dreams of thinking he heard noises but since sleeping beside you would generally get some good hours of sleep in, way more than when Simon slept alone or away on deployment.

However, now he was sat on the sofa, eyes fight to stay open as he stared blankly at whatever re-run was playing on the TV. Unlike usual you weren’t curled up into his side, drooling on his shoulder. No, you were out with one of your friends that Simon hadn’t bothered to learn the name of. Whoever it was, it was her birthday and she had wanted to spend it celebrating in a club.

By now Simon knew that you’d been a few drinks into the night, maybe even a couple of shots too, drunk dancing with your girlfriends. Honestly, he couldn’t think of anything worse than being in a sweltering, crowded room that was filled with terrible deafening music and that was exactly what he had told you before sending you on your merry way with a kiss and a promise of collecting you once you were ready, no matter the time, he’d added.

Sat back, bouncing his knee softly and biting on his thumb nail Simon’s mind wandered to the outfit you’d worn. You had looked fucking ethereal, almost causing you to be late for the taxi by eating your sweet pussy from behind as he bent you over the bathroom sink. Simon knew you looked good and he knew any bloke in that club would be practically throwing themselves at you, grinding up behind you, maybe even placing their hands on you before you’d brush them away. It frustrated him. No, it made him seethe.

Simon wasn’t able to dwell on it for too much longer as his phone began to jingle beside him. God, he’d never had the sound on his phone before, was that his ringtone? Ugh. He didn’t linger, answering it and saying. “Love, you there?” He winced at the overwhelming noise that spilled through his speaker, deep booming music and muffled voices. “Babe?” He asked again, sitting forward and speaking a little louder as if to get your attention.

“… not going already…” “… it’s late… Simon is waiting…” “Babe.” He asked again, but the conversation continued. “We’re getting a taxi…” “Noooo~” “Love.” Simon growled, standing up then and rubbing his hand slowly down his face. “… I wanna get home to my man~” A flutter of ‘ooohs’ and ‘ahhhs’ followed before you giggled and said. “Oh, wait…” Then your voice was closer, talking to him finally. “Simon, baby. You there?”

Instantly he answered. “I’m here.” Trying not to smirk too much about having heard your sappy little comments. “You ready to come home, love?” He quizzed, moving to grab his keys from the bowl closer to the front door, shutting off the TV and waiting for a moment. “I’m ready…” You answered, your voice was slurred and light, it made him smile to himself. You told him the club that you were currently standing outside the front of and then said. “But don’t rush. I’m fine.”

“I’ll be there in 10. Don’t move. Don’t talk to anyone but your friends.” It was commands that made you giggle and then response. “Yes, sir~” “Oi, behave.” Simon quipped back as he quickly exited his home. “I’ll see you soon.”

Pulling the car over a few spaces down in a taxi spot, Simon shrugged, clambering from his truck and heading down the road, past a group of rowdy young men, much younger than him and chatting about all the birds they were gonna pull, talking a big game but Simon knew that more than half of them would be going home alone.

As he approached the doorway, Simon smirked as he saw you speaking to one of your friends, looking over animated and hearing the sound of your slurred giggle from there. “Look~” You friend pointed in his direction and in a moment, you turned, gasping in elated surprise and then rushing at him full force. “Simon~” You whimpered, wrapping your flailing drunken body around his strong form. “Hi baby.” He whispered, rubbing your back soothingly before setting you down onto your bare feet. “Where are your shoes?” Simon asked and you looked puzzled and then shrugged. “Must’ve lost them.”

“Both of them?” Simon frowned down at you, then shaking his head. “Do any of your friends need a lift home?” Drunkenly you shook your head, eyes struggling to focus as you did so.

At your answer he was relieved, he just wanted to get you safely home now. “Alright. Hold on.” A shriek pulled from your throat, swinging you up over his shoulder and beginning to walk you back to his waiting truck. “Simon! Simon!” It was like you couldn’t even control your laughter and he thought a smile. “You lose your shoes then you get carried.”

Getting you into the car wasn’t that much of a struggle, he placed you in the seat, strapped you in and then began driving home. It was everything around that which came almost like a game to you. Pointing to each passing by food place you’d point to it and ask if you could stop there and get some chips, Simon refused, promising to make you something once you’re home knowing that by then you’d have forgotten all about it.

“O-oh, babe… there was this song… in the club… it was s'good.” You told him then, reaching over to begin fiddling with the radio, turning it up so loud it made Simon jolt and then reaching to turn it back down and give you a hard look. “Just sit still.” He said firmly. “Stop fiddling with things-” As if on cue the window began to wind down beside you, air busting into the car and Simon growled as he used the controls his side to slide it back firmly up. “Oi, what did I just say?”

“I heard you…” You replied with a knowing grin on your face. “Just wanted some fresh air.” You pouted towards him and Simon huffed, shaking his head and gripping the steering wheel. “Did you have a nice time with your friends?” Simon questioned then, trying to distract you from messing around with anything else in his car. “Oh, it was so much fun. I was dancing so much my feet were hurting, but I kept going.” Then you giggled then, it was so pure and full of drunk joy that Simon couldn’t help but smirk too.

Nodding his head Simon asked. “Didn’t have any boys trying to make moves on you then?” He quirked a brow in your direction and you giggled. “Oh, no~” You giggled, then it began harder before gazing at him. “I told them all I had a big strong man waiting at home for me and they all kept a goooood distance~” Reaching over she placed a distracting hand on his thigh. He knew he couldn’t take advantage of your lowered inhibitions, so he took your hand and linked your fingers, removing it from exploring any further. “I’m happy to hear that, baby.”

Once he arrived home, Simon carried you inside and carefully sat you at the edge of the bed and frowned when he saw a bloody gash on your knee. “Did you fall over?” He asked, observing it carefully. “Mmhmm… it doesn’t hurt, don’t worry~” Then flopping back onto the bed, arms spread wide beside you. “Bloody hell, with the amount of alcohol in your system you could get hit by a bus and you wouldn’t feel it…” Tiredly you began to giggle, Simon rose up and said. “Let me clean that up…”

He took his time cleaning and dressing the wound, making sure that it didn’t seem to concerning before looking up to see you gradually falling asleep. “Babe, don’t sleep. You need to drink some water and change. Okay?” “… Wan' sleep…” You already slurred voice was now destroyed by sleepiness. “Babe. Up. C’mon…” Carefully pulling you to be upright. “Get changed. I’ll get you some water.”

Leaving the room, Simon took a little time turning off lights and locking doors before returning with a glass of water, stepping into the room to find you face down on the bed with dress caught around your hips and snoring softly. “Fuckin’ hell…” He muttered, stepping over to place down the water and then tugging your dress down and throwing it aside. “Up for a minute, baby.” He coaxed you upright, tugging one of his oversized shirts over your head and then bringing the glass of water to your lips. “Just a couple big gulps. You’ll thank me tomorrow.” Simon promised lowly, kissing your hairline as you followed his orders. “Good girl. Good girl. One more for me.” Again, smiling as you tired body did as he requested. “That’s a good girl. Let’s lay you down for a little bit.” Your body flopped exhausted as Simon rolled you safely onto your side.

It was mere seconds before you were snoring lowly into the pillow, Simon moved to lay down beside you, observing you for as long as he could muster to keep his eyes open and then sinking into the abyss beside you, knowing that you were safe at home beside him in bed was enough, he could deal with whatever chaos came with that.

Masterlist | Ask | 21-11-2023

[darkromanceenthusiast]

slender with reader whos easily startled?? so he doesnt even realize when he teleports to them it would be a problem..been on my mind

Pairing: Slenderman x reader

Contains: fluff, Slenderman is the eldritch horror we love, you think he cares or understands human emotion? That's cute.

Unfortunately for you… Slender doesn't care about his own proxies getting slaughtered, so I doubt he'd care if he startled you.

If anything he's glad because those precious seconds you spent gawking with your heart pounding gave him an opening to grip one of his tendrils around your waist.

Now you're dangling upside down with you're face 0.2 inches from his featureless one.

“You smell delicious when you're scared, Darling.”

If you faint that's fine, its easier on him.

Once he's sure you wont run away he will become less antagonistic with his teleportation, usually choosing to appear in front of you rather than jump scaring you from behind.

That is assuming you're let out without him.

I always think Slenderman would easily be one of the most possessive creeps due to the sheer amount of inside knowledge you'd have on the operator because Slender doesn't like letting you go too far from him.

There was absolutely a stretch of time he had you chained to his desk.

Masky, Hoodie, and Toby are all there actively trying to ignore their rising annoyance at the crying/terrified person their boss is currently trying to coax into his lap.

Masky would probably end up whacked upside the head with one of his tendrils because he made a comment about killing you.

Toby would low-key just feel bad for you but keeps it to himself.

Slenderman sometimes forgets about the whole “humans have basic needs” things y’know cause he's not human so imagine his surprise when you tell him you cannot in fact eat raw meat.

He also realizes how careful he has to be with those static headaches after he nearly gave you a brain bleed :(

If you're not a captive but rather one of his proxies you'd be one of the only one he gives a shit about.

Expect near constant jumpscares, your only warning is how silent the forest gets before he materializes.

He almost always puts you in those bullshit page posting duties and you know each time he's gonna try and blend into the trees until he catches you.

Honestly, it's probably his idea of a fun date.

Its even worse when his voice does the telepathy thing, so there's nothing anywhere and then you have a voice IN YOUR HEAD and you STILL CANT SEE ANYTHING.

He genuinely, deeply, adores your fear almost as much as he wants your love.

[archangeldyke-all]

Omg I loved the cellmate reader! But imagine if reader broke Sevika outta jail. Like she’s all cool about and when she walks up to Sevikas cell she’s got her hair up in her hat and sevika can’t see who she is until she tilts her head up grinning at her wife.

Sevika is so shocked to see her housewife breaking her outta jail like. The whole way back to Zain Sevika can’t keep her hands to herself, thanking her wife over and over and saying how much she’s gonna reward her for saving her *wink wink*

LOVE

men and minors dni

"this just feels wrong." you mutter as you check yourself out in the mirror. ran chuckles beside you, tugging their skirt farther down their waist.

"fuckin' tell me about it." they grumble.

they look ridiculous. their bangs are pinned back, their eyes have been washed clean of eyeliner-- they really do look like a cop. "the things i do for her." you grumble. ran giggles again.

"wasn't this in your vows? 'for better or worse, in sickness and health, i vow to love you and break you outta prison if you need?'" they tease. you giggle.

"close enough."

you're both dressed as enforcers-- the uniforms are authentic-- stolen from some dead cops.

four years after you first landed yourself in stillwater-- you're going back. this time, you aren't a prisioner, though. and, despite your current outfit, you haven't gotten a new job as a prison guard.

you're going back for sevika.

she took the charges for silco when he got caught up in piltover, and as a result, she's currently in maximum security.

it's been four months since you've seen your wife. and despite the fact that you keep your nose strictly out of silco and sevika's business-- these past four months you've been at the last drop every single night, studying stillwater blue prints and plotting with ran and silco and lock.

it all passes in a blur for you. you're so nervous, and so excited to see your girl, that you don't register much as you make your way to stillwater.

ran does most of the talking. there's not much talking to be done-- the uniforms and badges you're wearing get you in the gates surprisingly easily-- but you're too jittery to do much more than stutter. so ran does most the talking.

you keep your hand on the switchblade tucked into the waist of your enforcer skirt. sevika gifted it to you on your first real date, and she's been teaching you how to defend yourself with it ever since. you've never had to use it, mostly because everyone in the undercity knows you're sevika's, but you won't hesitate to use it now to get to her.

the familiar atmosphere of the prison is comforting, in a strange way. it's where you met sevika, where you got to know her, where you both fell for one another.

and now it's where you're going to reunite again.

the deeper underground you get, the fewer prisoners and the more guards there are. you're starting to get antsy. ran elbows you.

"relax." they grumble. you gulp.

"don't tell me to relax, it' been four fucking months since--"

"oh my god, i know." ran groans. you sigh.

"sorry. i miss her." you mumble. ran chuckles.

"not as much as she misses you." they say. you huff a bit.

despite the rough start to you and ran's friendship-- with you stabbing them the last time they were breaking sevika out of prison-- they've become a good friend of yours. especially since they're the one who's always helping you get sevika out of trouble.

they're also the one who agreed to let you come along tonight. it was meant to be ran and lock, with you as the getaway driver, but you begged to go in. you want to see her as soon as you fucking can.

and then: ran pulls you to a stop.

"prisoner." they mumble, a smile in their voice as they tap their metal fingers against the bars of a cell. your stomach bursts into butterflies when you see the signature flicker of sevika's lighter in the dark cell. you can see her smirk in the brief light, and you nearly burst into tears.

the ring of keys on ran's hip jingles as they pull them off and unlock sevika's cell. you don't hesitate to slam the door open and start sprinting into the cell.

it's the wrong move. sevika's expecting ran and lock, not ran and you: and in the dark, she assumes you're lunging at her to attack her. "wait!" ran calls after you, too late.

a crack rings out in the cell, followed by a groan: sevika socked you right in the nose. "ffffffuck, babe!" you whine, grabbing your nose.

sevika gasps in the dark. then, strong arms are hugging you and you're being pushed out into the hallway-- into the light.

"what the fuck are you doing here?!" sevika cries.

"i--" she doesn't let you answer, shoving her mouth against yours as she backs you up against the concrete wall oppisite her cell.

you moan into her mouth, your nose throbbing in pain, your cunt throbbing in arousal.

her hands trail down to your ass, then sneak up your skirt to start palming your cunt. you whimper, and she growls.

ran clears their throat.

you pull your mouth away from sevika with a gasp, but she doesn't seem to have heard ran-- her mouth ducking down to start sucking hickeys on your neck. she starts grinding the palm of her hand against your wet cunt, and you gasp-- pulling her hair hard. sevika mewls.

"janna, i shoulda brought a spray bottle." ran mumbles.

"s-sev, baby, we gotta go." you whisper, your voice shaking when she sinks her teeth into your neck. she licks the indents her teeth left behind, then stands to her full height, removes her hands from your skirt.

you cuff her wrists, then hook your arm around her elbow, guiding her down the hall as ran leads the two of you.

you've got five minutes before the real guards do their rounds and stillwater goes on lockdown when they realize sevika's missing.

ran's the only one who seems to care about this time crunch. sevika keeps shoving you against walls, grabbing your tits biting your lips, fighting against her handcuffs as she tries to grip your hips.

you let her, each and every time.

a guard stops the three of you. "fuck happened to you?" he asks you, looking you over.

your skirt's rumpled, your shirt's untucked and unbuttoned, and your enforcer hat's been knocked off and lost. all sevika's doing.

you cringe, suddenly nervous. ran just scoffs as the cut in to cover for you.

"the prisoner here got the jump on this rookie." ran explains. "broke the poor kid's nose." they gesture to your bleeding nose. you nod.

"fuckin' asshole." you mumble, trying to hold your smile back as you nudge sevika like you're angry.

she stumbles and giggles. it comes off as a defiant laugh in the face of authority to the guard. to you, you know she's fucking giddy.

he waves the three of you along.

the second you're in the van with sevika, she's on you.

lock starts the car and starts driving off, ran in the passenger seat laughing in glee at once again flawlessly slipping through stillwater's 'impenetrable' security system, and sevika throws herself at you in the back before you can even unlock her cuffs.

"sev!" you laugh. she's practically dry humping you, kissing any part of you she can reach. she hums.

"fuck-- you're the hottest enforcer i've ever seen." she mumbles. "i'm so fuckin' sorry about your nose, baby--" you cut her off by pressing your mouth against hers again.

"no fucking in the van." lock says.

you flip him off, before fumbling for the key to sevika's handcuffs.

the second one of her hands is free, she doesn't bother letting you free the other. she just lets the cuffs dangle off her mech wrist like a tacky bracelet, as she wraps her arms around you pulling you impossibly closer to her.

"i missed you so fucking much." you whimper, on the verge of tears.

sevika smells like shit. she probably hasn't showered in a week. in solitary, you don't even get a mattress-- just two blankets to lay on the ground. she's sore and grimy and she's been sitting in a dark room for weeks on end-- you planned for your first time together again to be after soaking her in a long, fragrant bath, given her at least an hour long massage, and gotten her in your freshly made bed.

it seems like that might have to be your second time.

sevika's between your legs-- both of which are hooked over her waist-- your skirt is around your waist and your hands are tugging her pants down as she grinds pathetic circles against your cunt.

"oh, fuck, i missed you too." she whines. "i love you so fuckin' much, i'm gonna put a fuckin baby in you, i missed your cunt so mu--"

"woah!" ran cries. "please! we're two minutes away from the last dro--"

"take me home." sevika growls.

ran scoffs-- "sevika, silco wants to see--"

"i'll see 'im tomorrow. or he can come over in a few hours. take me the fuck home." she demands. you giggle, using her distraction to uncuff her other wrist.

she smiles down at you when lock starts the van in the direction of your shared home.

the two of you stumble out in front of your home a minute later, lock screaming something about silco coming over in a bit behind the two of you.

neither of you notice.

you stumble into your home, attached at the lips. sevika's hands are flying up and down your body, groping your ass, thighs, hips, tits, all in quick succession. she growls as you guide her to the bedroom. "been thinkin' about you every fuckin' second since they locked me up." she mumbles. you whimper. "prison's no fun without you there."

you chuckle against her lips, stripping her of her prison uniform. you're gonna burn the clothes the second you're done with her.

you push her down-- she spreads out starfished and naked on the bed, groaning as she relaxes against the mattress.

"fuck." she moans.

you smile down at her, straddling her waist and stroking her cheek. she nuzzles against your palm.

"i missed you so much." you whisper. "i love you so much. you're the most precious thing in the world, baby."

sevika whimpers, and then, before you know what's happening, she's flipping you and pinning you beneath her.

she starts grinding against you again, but this time, both of you are naked. you groan as your cunts slide together and sevika whimpers, burying her face in your neck as she cries and fucks you.

you don't mention the tears soaking your neck. you just wrap yourself around your wife, pressing kisses anywhere you can reach as she fucks you.

"you're okay baby." you whisper, scratching against her scalp. "you're okay. 'm right here, 'm not goin' anywhere. i'll always come 'n find you sev, y' can't get rid of me that easy." you promise her.

she whimpers. "'m gonna cum."

you shiver at her words-- fuck you've missed her.

"fuck, fuck, please, sev, please, i've missed you, i've missed you, honey." you whisper. "i wanna make you feel good-- wanna make you cum-- you waited so fuckin' long all alone and--"

"but you're here now." she whispers. you moan, cumming at the reminder, and the sight of it pushes her over the edge. "baby fuck!" she cries, burying her face against your neck as she cums.

you're both shaking and crying, panting for air, soaked in sweat and cum, and laughing.

"shit." sevika sighs, nuzzling against you. you hum. "think i jerked off, like, a billion times imagining that." she mumbles. you burst into laughter. "nowhere near as good as the real fuckin' thing though." she sighs.

you kiss the goofy smile off her face. "wish i coulda snuck you some nudies or somethin'." you mumble. she snorts.

"nearly came in my pants when i realized it was you showin' off your legs in that slutty uniform."

"after you nearly shit in your pants when you realized it was me you just punched?" you ask. sevika giggles, gently kissing your swollen nose.

"simultaneously, actually. weirdest sensation of my life." she jokes. you burst into laughter.

"i love you!" you giggle. she smiles.

"i love you too."

"if you get off of me i'll draw you a bath." you offer.

"do i smell that bad?"

"yes."

she bites your shoulder and you squeak. "will you join me?"

"yes." you say.

you can feel her smile against your shoulder.

"i'm gonna marry you all over again." she mumbles.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @vikasub

[pissclump]

This Is Gonna Get Worse Before It Gets Better

Chapter 1

HIIIIIII!! This is my first attempt at writing a multiple part fic with an actual story line, so if it sucks, PLEASE tell me. My original plan for the story was a Toby x Reader, but I may end up making it a Toby, Masky, and Hoodie x Reader. Anyways, I'll try to update as regularly as I can. Reader is depicted as female. This story is cross posted on my AO3 as well: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61232158/chapters/156483289 <3

Warnings: swearing, use of cigarettes, violence, eventual smut in later chapters

A frustrated groan escaped your lips as you ran your fingers through your hair. As if being a broke college student wasn't bad enough, you also had treacherous amounts of homework. Your evenings were usually spent with Kimberly, your roommate who quickly turned into a close friend. It didn't matter if you were out all night or just staying home doing nothing, you were content as long as you were in her presence. Tonight, however was different. Kimberly has been gone all day. And she won't be back for the next two. She said she was feeling homesick and insisted going back home to stay with her parents for the weekend. You were bummed about her being gone all weekend, but you knew it would be selfish to attempt talking her out of it. Which is how you ended up in your current situation; sitting on your couch with your laptop attempting pointless assignments until you eventually give up and submit whatever half-assed effort you gave. After at least three hours of repeating the same cycle, you finally had enough. In almost an instant, you slammed your laptop shut, setting it aside.

You stood up from your couch and stretched. Sitting in one place for so long can make you cramp sometimes. You're almost used to it by now. You walked into your room and grabbed the first pair of shoes you could find before leaving your tiny apartment. The stress from school never failed to steadily increase your need for nicotine. Luckily, your usual gas station was only about a five minute walk from home, so there was no need to take your car and waste gas. Swinging the door open, you were met with the smell of cheap air freshener. Behind the counter sat just the man you wanted to see. Mr. Kurtz was always a delight to talk to. He also had no problem selling you cigarettes despite the fact that you weren't legally old enough for them yet. You're only a year away from being 21, it's really not that big of a deal, is it?

"There she is! Haven't seen you all week. How have you been, kiddo?"

"Evening, Mr. Kurtz. I'm alright. Just getting my ass kicked by school and stuff. Nothing new."

The older man let out a noise that sounded like a mixture between a huff and a chuckle. He turned his back to you, now facing the variety of cigarettes behind the counter.

"Let me guess. The usual?"

"You know me so well."

He let out another huff of laughter as he pulled your favorite brand from the shelf. He didn't even bother to ask for an I.D. He never did. Which was what led you to become a regular at his store along with his sickeningly friendly personality. You rummaged through your pocket until you found enough cash to pay your total.

"Thanks again, Mr. Kurtz. I'll see you again soon."

You grabbed the fresh pack of cigarettes and flashed him a friendly smile.

"Sure thing, kiddo."

Immediately upon exiting the store, you opened the small box and removed one of the cigarettes before placing it between your lips. You keep a lighter on you at all times. You fished it from your pocket and lit the end of the thin cancerous stick. Taking a long inhale, you closed your eyes in relief as the familiar flavor of tobacco filled your mouth and lungs. This is exactly what you needed.

The walk back home was uneventful. Finishing your cigarette, you stamped it out on the ground just before climbing the stairs to the small apartment you and Kimberly shared. With your key already in hand, you inserted into the keyhole on the doorknob. However, when you twisted the key, you weren't met with the familiar 'click' sound it always made while being opened.

“𝘏𝘶𝘩… 𝘔𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘨𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘰𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵.” You thought to yourself.

You jiggled the doorknob, and sure enough, it was already unlocked. You shrugged it off and stepped inside, closing the door back behind you. You stood in silence for a moment, your breath catching in your throat. Something was off. You weren't sure what it was, but the moment you stepped through the door, the sudden unshakeable feeling of dread took you over completely. It was almost as if you were being watched. No, you 𝙬𝙚𝙧𝙚 being watched. You reassured yourself that it was just your imagination, but your instinct told you to get out of there as quick as you could and never look back. Before you could process another thought, a hand made its way from behind you and was clasped over your mouth.

"W-we've got you n-now!~"

Your first instinct was to scream, however it was muffled due to how hard this fucker's hand was pressed against your mouth. You opened your mouth and bit down on the hand before you with all the strength your jaw could give. However, it only resulted in an increase of maniacal giggles from your perpetrator. He wrapped his other arm around your torso and held you tightly in place. You could taste the blood and small bits of flesh in your teeth from his hand and nearly gagged.

"𝘏𝘦'𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨? 𝘐 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦'𝘴 𝙡𝙖𝙪𝙜𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜?"

The only other plan of escape you had was to try and struggle free from his grip. You tried your hardest to pull yourself free from his death grip, but your efforts were about as useful as a lamp without a lightbulb. You grunted in frustration as his hold on you only tightened. You then felt something cold and metallic press against your neck. You tried to crane your head to the side for a better look, but quickly whipped your head back up was you felt the sharp object slide against your skin. Small droplets of blood dribbled down to your collarbone as you hissed in pain at the uncomfortable sensation.

"You're a f-fuh-feisty one, a-aren't ya?"

"Who the FUCK are you?! What do you want from me?!"

Before he had time to answer you, you heard heavy footsteps coming from the hallway. Approaching you was a man in a white mask. It was painted with eerie feminine features, but what caught your attention the most was the crowbar resting in his palms. Your breath quickened with every step he took closer to you. You felt like you were on the verge of fainting from hyperventilation. This was the first time you had ever experienced anything like this, and you prayed that if you survived by some miracle, it would be the last. The masked man took a few more steps until he was just inches away from you. He leaned down so that he was at eye level with you and just stared before letting out an annoyed scoff.

"For fucks sake, Rogers, you've got the wrong one."

What.

"Huuuh? You mean sh-shes not our t-t-target?"

The man release his grip on you and you immediately collapsed to the floor. Your legs were shaking too much for you to stand on your own right now. Hell, your whole body was shaking. You looked up from the ground at the man who had restrained you. Like the other one, his face was also covered. Except instead of wearing a mask, he wore bulky orange goggles and what seemed like some type of mouth guard.

"No. But she is now. She's seen too much."

Oh, fuck no.

Adrenaline shot through your body as you stood up and bolted towards the kitchen. Quickly, you threw open a few drawers and looked for literally anything to defend yourself with. You wrapped your fingers around a large kitchen knife and defensively yielded it in front of you. This only caused the goggled man to let out another sickening giggle.

"Look, M-Masky, she's g-g-gonna try to f-fight back! H-how cute!"

The masked man let out an annoyed sigh, clearly losing his patience with the other man's antics. "Let's just get this over with."

"Get the FUCK away from me! Fucking psychos!"

You didn't have the guts to approach and attack them. Your mind raced as the masked man started taking long slow strides towards you. You then did the only other thing you could think of to slow him dow. You threw open the fridge door and grabbed the unopened gallon of milk with shaky hands.

"I SAID FUCK OFF!"

With all the strength you could conjure up, you threw the gallon of milk directly at his head at full force, causing it to bust open on impact. He let out a grunt of both pain and annoyance and stumbled back a few steps. He clearly was NOT expecting that. The goggled man began to howl with laughter.

"HAH! Sh-she got you good, d-didn't she, Masky!"

"Shut the hell up, Rogers!"

He turned his attention back to you. He was a lot less intimidating when he was covered in milk, but still intimidating nonetheless.

"You fucking bitch!"

He wiped the milk from his mask with his arm and practically pounced on you. Your back hit the hardwood floor with a thud, the impact knocking the breath out of you. You threw you arms in front of you in a pathetic attempt at defending yourself, but before he could lay another hand on you, you heard the front door open. Another man with his face hidden made his way into your field of vision. He was wearing a tight ski mask with a poorly drawn frown on the front, covered by the yellow hood of his shirt.

"Both of you. We need to leave. Now."

"I'm not going anywhere until I've bashed this whore's skull in!"

"You don't have much of a choice. Neighbors heard the commotion and called the cops."

"Oh for FUCKS sake!"

With that, he roughly shoved you back to the ground and released you before heading towards the door with the hooded man. They were both followed by the shorter male with the goggles. He turned his head towards you again before walking out with the others.

"I'll see you ag-gain soon, p-princess!"

What the fuck. What the actual fuck. You were unable to move from your spot on the floor. Tears made their way from your eyes as your entire body shook. You definitely weren't gonna be sleeping tonight after that.

[mxqdii]

WHERE IS PART THREE

IM LITTERALY DYING TI READ WHAT HAPPENS NEXTTTTTTY

also I have a request

so reader is dating Sam or Colby (you pick❤️). Reader is alone at a haunted location with just Sam or just Colby (does this make sense?) say it was Sam, they are just the two of them and say there were trespassers and they were threatening the two and reader has a panic attack and Sam defend them (Sam or Colby) and calm reader down on the way home.

is that doable?

when part three comes can you tag my other acc

@anythingsamandcolby

take my breath away - c.b

pairings: colby brock x reader

summary: a day with the boys doesn't go as expected

warning(s): panic attacks, mention of ghosts (??) idk.

a/n: so i see u said just the two of them, but i only realized after i finished writing it... i'm sorry! i hope this is still okay 😭

not proofread

"are you guys sure this is a good idea?" i say as me, sam and colby enter the gate

"too late now! unlocking that gate took forever" sam says, walking ahead

"we're all gonna die" i mumble sarcastically, scoffing at the boys skipping together joyfully

we decided not to vlog this one, since, well..

we're trespassing.

it's okay though! atleast that's what the boys told me (and what i'm telling myself)

"hey, you okay?" colby, my boyfriend, asks.

"yeah i'm fine, just worried about being shot by a police officer" i say, giving him a look

"calm down, we'll be fine!" he speaks over confidently

"whatever you say" i groan

"woah! guys this place is so cool, let's use the spirit box here" sam yells from ahead, taking off his backpack and grabbing the box

we all listen, hearing a few random meaningless words, until...

my phone starts buzzing, which makes us all jump

"sorry, my alarm- it's midnight if anyone cares" i say, signaling for us to get out of here

"leave" the spirit box says

"yes please- wait was that the box?" i mumble

"trespassing" the box says

"run"

"guys i don't like this.." i mumble, reaching over to grab colby, looking over realizing he's nowhere to be found

"g-guys?" i say, realizing i've been left alone with only the spirit box

"guys this isn't funny. you got me okay? i'm scared." i yell into the distance, hoping to be met with colby's voice or sams laughter

but i don't hear that, instead something worse

the bushes besides me start rustling, and i feel tears brim my eyes

"h-hello?" i almost whisper

this is too much. i wanna go home.

my legs start moving before i can think and i run back to the car, hoping to find sam and colby there, but no.

i realize, i don't have the keys, leaving me in the dark parking lot surrounded by woods, alone.

okay, it's fine, i'm fine, i'll call them.

NO SERVICE

this is when i start freaking out, because what am i supposed to do now??

the only thing i can think to do, cry.

i let myself lean against the locked car door, eventually curling into a ball on the floor

i'm currently a sobbing mess at midnight, alone and cold.

the more i'm sat here with my thoughts, the harder it gets to breathe, causing me to panic.

i try to calm my breathing but can't, colby always helped me with panic attacks, i need colby.

i don't know how much time passed, but eventually, i felt hands on my shoulders and looked up to see colby

thank god.

"colby-" i try to say more but the words get caught in my throat

"shh, baby it's okay. breathe for me okay?" he says

he sits down to my level, pulling me into his lap

"i'm so sorry. we thought it'd be funny to hide but we got lost, i'm so sorry baby that wasn't funny, i know." he hushes my cries, helping me with my breathing along the way

his hands stroking my hair and his smooth rhythm of breaths calm me down,.

(even though his heart is racing)

i snap out of my panic, looking up at him.

i shove my fist into his chest, not hard enough to hurt bad

(as if you could)

"ow!" he says, almost out of instict

"never do that again" i huff

"never again." he repeats back to me, kissing my forehead.

TAGLIST:

@opheliaofficial07 @stargirlv0id @strniolo @annaisabookworm @theperson-nextdoor @its-jennarose @thetriplets3 @anythingsamandcolby

[thepersonnamedsam]

is that bluey? - dr3

pairing: daniel ricciardo x fem!reader

summary: being home alone with a migraine, you turn on a show that reminds you of your boyfriend

word count: 803

warnings: if you have emetophobia, you probably shouldn’t read it…

note: i myself am currently suffering from a migraine and i am just listening to bluey to not feel so alone, yay me

masterlist / taglist

The toilet was your favourite place right now. With a blanket laid down on the floor and a cushion under the toilet, you were curled up in the bathroom. You installed a power strip, so every electronic device could be charged, such as the humidifier, your iPad, the kettle and your phone. Plus it was the only room without a window, which usually was something bad, but that day it was a blessing.

You were home alone, Daniel was away with Scotty, either training or doing some shit. You wanted him here, but you also didn’t want to disturb him. You had a migraine, it was one of the milder ones, you had worse of 'em, but still bad enough to stick to the toilet. The cold floor helped you stick to reality. You were sweating like crazy and your left side of your head was pounding. It was like your heart was in your head.

Nausea overtook your body once in a while, but there was something that helped you through it all; Bluey! Even though you usually didn’t like the blue-light of the electronics, today it was some relief because you felt less alone. You couldn’t wait until Daniel got back.

You knew the show because of Danny‘s nieces and nephews, they were always watching the show. Daniel was always invested in the show, trying to watch it at home with you, but you always refused. But now it reminded you of him, especially the way Bandit is treating Bluey and Bingo. It reminded you of him and his sisters kids. You missed Daniel, having a migraine without someone caring for you was the worst.

That’s why, when you heard the key in the door, you were so excited you almost felt your eye pop out of its socket.

„Baby? I‘m home, where are you?“, he shouted through the flat. His loud voice pounded through your head. You loved him, really, but you could’ve killed him that moment. He opened the door to the bathroom and saw you lying on the floor. His mind instantly connected the dots; you had a migraine!

„Aww my poor baby, how can I help?“, his voice now in a hush, not wanting to worsen the ache in your head. You whined and opened your arms. He snickered and tried to fit his lanky body on the floor. You cuddled into his body and closed your eyes.

„Are you watching Bluey?“, he tried to contain his excitement in his voice, but failed miserably. You hummed and he just smiled at you. „Finally“, he whispered.

„But why?“ - „I missed you, s‘all.“

After a while, you felt the nausea kicking in and you wrestled yourself out of Danny’s arms. Thank god you were already in the bathroom, because you didn’t know how long you could’ve contained yourself.

You felt Danny trying to make a ponytail with your hair and a soothing hand rubbing over your back.

„Let it all out, my sweet girl. That’s good, let it all out“, he whispered to you. You hated vomiting, it’s the worst. You were just dry heaving after some time, your body still trying to eject everything from your stomach. Tears were hitting the toilet ring and Daniel wiped your eyes with his thump.

„I know, I know, everything’s gonna be good. Just a few more moments.“

„Can you please get me a glass of water and a new ice packet?“, your voice barely over a whisper. Daniel stood up and came back with all the stuff needed. He even brought you a coke, the wives tale or getting rid of nausea. He also brought a painkiller, having seen you take one only 15 minutes earlier, but when you vomited, you probably flushed the painkiller out of your body already. He was such a thoughtful person.

Later in bed, you had a bit of a moment where you felt better. „I am so happy you finally wanna watch Bluey“, Daniel exclaimed with excitement. You giggled, you knew he’d be happy to see you watching Bluey. „It reminded me of you“, you shyly smiled at him. „Aww baby.“

„You know, I think Bingo is the glue of the family, you know what I mean? Like, she’s the piece that’s holding all of the together“, you explained to your boyfriend. He chuckled lightly, he knew you’d be invested in the kids show. „Yeah, I think so too, honey“, he whispered against your temple. He kissed it and closed your eyes with his hands. „We can watch some tomorrow, hopefully your migraine‘s gone by then.“ You nodded your head, instantly regretting it.

You put the cold packet on your neck and cuddled into Daniels side. His arm snaked around your waist and pulled you even closer. „Night night, love you“, you whispered. „Love you too, darling.“

°°°

taglist: @ironmaiden1313 , @topguncultleader , @missskid , @gulabjamooon , @lovelyy-moonlight , @peachyplumsss , @mistrose23 , @copper-boom , @love4lando , @champomiel , @serenityleah , @iloveyou3000morgan , @angelwithoutmywings , @elleeeee21

[nerdinabook]

Something to get my through the struggle of the results of the US 2024 presidential election, I thought I would write a little piece of what I think the marauders election night plans would be. If they were American and invested in muggle elections that is.

When Lily was working the polls, it felt busier than any other election season. The nervous energy in the air was prominent in the faces and voices of everyone she helped. At the end of her very long and tiring day she felt a bit of hope in her heart but right now all she wants to do is snuggle on the couch next to her husband and their friends as they watch the news update and eat junk food.

She hears the laughter from outside her front door as she puts the key into the lock.

"never gonna be president now, never gonna be president now, that's one less thing to worry about, one less thing to worry about!" Lily smiles as she sees her husband and his best friend Sirius sing together as the dance on top of the couch.

" polls just closed, we won't have an answer for hours if even that." Lily said as she put down her stuff and slipped her shoes off.

"Lily flower!" James yells as he jumps off the couch to greet his wife.

" we just thought we would manifest the energy we wish into the world" He said after greeting her with a kiss.

"mmhmm, had a couple drinks already?" she mussed as she smelt the alcohol on his breath.

" I'm afraid that would be my fault Lily." Sirius' boyfriend Remus said as he came in from the kitchen with a pot of tea. " They were getting restless and I couldn't take their nearly bouncing off the walls any longer"

"can't blame you for that" Lily brushed the hair out of James face and after a couple tries gives up hope it will be in any other position then the one it is currently stuck at.

Later that night as the news played on and after the boys had a couple cups of tea and sobered up a little nerves ran through the bodies of each person in the little house Lily reminded them of the red mirage and how they likely wouldn't even have results tonight, but still the nerves lingered.

Sometime after midnight James and Sirius fell asleep, Sirius tucked into Remus' side and James with his legs over Lily's lap. It wasn't looking good, but they still had hope for the blue shift.

No shift came, and as the news called the winner Remus and Lily were both filled with panic and dread. Lily felt betrayed and fearful for herself as the man with so little care for people of her gender now holds the most powerful position in America. Remus looked at his sleeping boyfriend who laid blissfully unaware of the news and wondered what it would mean for them, they weren't married yet but now it soon might not even be an option for them, nor could it be safe to publicly love each other.

Their fear-stricken faces meet as the blue light from the TV illuminated each other. Lily already had tears welling up in her eyes but as she meet Remus' face it all broke loose and her body rocked with sobs as she struggled to keep herself quite as to not wake the sleeping boys.

Remus couldn't bear to see one of his best friends cry he pulled himself free from Sirius and wrapped his arms around her as she cried in his chest. Eventually the sounds and shifting from their partners woke the boys from their slumber and with the reaction of their loved ones they knew it was not good news but as their faces move to look up at the TV and see the orange headed face stare back a pit forms in their stomachs.

They all take turns crying and screaming that night. Worse case scenarios are brought up and planned for, conspiracy theories are divulged, painful posts of others across the country are read, text and phone calls to other loved ones are given, but ultimately they grieved, they cried, and they were hurt, they let themselves feel the hurt and determined that tomorrow they would take action but tonight they would mourn.

[zolass]

𝗔 𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗹𝗱 𝗧𝗼 𝗖𝗮𝗹𝗹 𝗢𝘂𝗿 𝗢𝘄𝗻

ㅤㅤㅤ···─A WORLD TO CALL OUR OWN

Summary: Lunara once was a beautiful planet, blue and silver sky. The ground was a lush green valleys and long fields of gras, between the green were cities reached far into the sky. It was once such a beautiful home, and now it was a haunted land. When did it go wrong?

FEATURING: THORNE DE VÉRES x MALE READER

Hellou peepol, so I did this blog to announce the first OC x Male Reader.

Well Original Character that I created especially for the male readers, so welcome Thorne. I actually just thought it would be a fun thing to do- definitely not letting my other Oc stories rot in the corner rn, but anyways.

This is simply a 'short' intro for the world and story, the planet it the story takes place is Lunara, and it's a apocalyptic /post apocalyptic world. Just gonna say it's def heavily inspired by Maze Runner (I'm a sucker ngl) bc I have no clue how to write apocalypse stuff.

Anyway maybe if people like it, I will continue it and if there's questions for the world or character (I currently just have Thorne ngl) just ask lil ol' me :)

Was it always supposed to end like this? In so much pain and loss?

Having to watch the infection spreading, slowly turning your loved ones into something entirely different, something that’s just.. Not them anymore.

Devastating as people were reduced to nothing else than beings on the brink of death, with an insatiable hunger lying in the pit of their existence. No remorse as they would tear into their once loved ones, giving the surviving no other choice than to end the miserable life that they have left.

But with the virus came an astrological event that seemed to be rather a blessing and curse as through this there was another virus flaring up. It made more people sick, they would suffer from high fever and chills to hallucinations. Their skin would turn a slightly unnatural color around joints and face, while their body fights against the virus, it would cause metallic tastes in their mouth.

After the first virus wiped out almost half of the human population, the second virus wiped out quite a lot of them too, if it was to the fear of others, simply shooting or decapitating their allies, to the victims taking their own lives, not able to stand through the horrendous pain. Many people died to so many cruel things, you’ve never seen so many deaths in front of your eyes, and you wished you never had to.

Some of these deaths were your close friends and families, who either got infected and turned into one of the many zombies, like your parents. The other’s died through either fear or accidents, or through the second virus that landed through asteroids on the planet, you watched as your little sister screamed in pain, while you tried to hold her still in your arms. 

A gun raised to her head, you still remember it so vividly in your mind. The group leader took his shot, the deafening silence as the body of your struggling sister went limp in your arms, and the screams coming to an instant stop, only reverberating in the narrow alley.

That night you left, with your dead sister in your arms, cradling her close to your chest. It wasn’t a time where it was smart to take revenge, but there was definitely a time, your old group leader would suffer and only for a while was this thought like balsam on the imaginative gaping wound in your heart.

While on the other side, there was Thorne Dalca, the rich heir of a prestigious family, he was alone in his apartment while the world turned to shit, and it was even worse as he didn’t know where his parents were. The first few days he was safe in his apartment, he stayed silent when there were groans at his door, or the screams of neighbors, well the ones below him, as there isn’t really a way to get into his apartment except with the elevator and a security key needed to even get on his floor.

But of course, food would go out, and so came the time where he had to step out if he wanted to survive. 

Crossing paths with a group of survivors, Thorne joined them for some time. Which didn’t come with stupid comments about being a rich heir in an apocalypse, he soon left them behind one morning, too fed up with their bullshit. He wandered alone for a while, getting blood on his hands when people decided to attack him for no reason or some of the infected trying to feast on him.

While he joined and left groups through the years, it took a bit until he found a group he stayed in, yet it didn’t take long until he was known as Thorne De Véres in his group and soon it spread to the groups they encountered. 

Many would think as a rich heir he wouldn’t try to get his hands dirty, but he did. While it shouldn’t be the time to take even more lives, Thorne did anyway.

[gilverrwrites]

Meet Cute Uglies

GN!Reader/Black Mask, ≈800 words >[Bruce | Dick | Jason]<

CWs: Swearing, implied threats of violence, mentions of: cheating & messy break ups, vandalism.

There’s a hostage situation taking place with Joker down at the peer, no cop is gonna care about a tiny bit of vandalism. At least, that’s what you tell yourself as you thread your keys through your fingers and ‘casually stroll’ across the street towards your ex’s car.

The lying POS had been cheating on you the whole relationship, sneaking around with the one co-worker he’s told you not to worry about, taking them on dates and fucking them in your shared bed when you were out of town. You’d wanted to keep the break-up amicable, if only to avoid the stress, but he’d been set on making it as messy as possible; airing your dirty laundry, trying to turn your friends and family against you, showing up at your work and causing problems until you snapped and told him that if you ever saw him again; you’d make him regret it.

It had been weeks since you’d last seen him, so you were pretty certain he’d gotten the message. Until today, when you’d spotted his car parked up outside your apartment building. You’d done a double take at first, but no, that was definitely his car. You could recognise it a mile away, a black 79 Mustang, it was a rarity in this day and age, his pride and joy, and it made a very satisfying CREEEAK noise as you dragged the tip of your key along the driver's side door. A sadistic sort of joy washes over you as you circle the vehicle twice over, destruction in your wake, but it’s not enough, not yet. You’re two letters into carving the word ‘CHEATER’ on the bonnet when a voice calls out to you, stopping you cold.

“What the fuck are you doing?” The voice does not belong to your ex. It’s angry, gravelly, Gothamite through and through, and kinda sexy, but you don’t turn to look at them. If it’s a cop, you’re already busted, and if it’s anybody else they should mind their own business.

“Keep walking.” You instruct as you continue on with your masterpiece.

“I don’t fucking think so.” The voice is closer now, you can sense the presence of its owner close behind you, close enough to touch you. Who the hell does this guy think he is?

“Didn’t anyone ever teach you the golden rule of Gotham?” You ask, making light work of the ‘A’. As you move on to the ‘T’ you wonder if you can make it look like a penis. “If you see something; No, you didn’t.”

“I think the only person that needs to be taught a lesson here, is you.” And then he grabs you, a firm, leather-clad hand clutching onto your upper arm and spinning you around to face him. Your keys clatter on the hood of the car.

“What the fuck is your prob- ” Your sentence is cut short as you comprehend who you’ve been arguing with, who currently has you locked in the palm of his hand. It’s an unseemly sigh up close, the mask, skull-shaped and pointy. Its expressionlessness only serves to strike more fear into your heart, but what the hell does Black Mask care about you vandalising your ex’s car for, it’s not like he hasn’t done worse things for less.

“My problem…” He jerks you closer, using your captured arm as leverage until you’re pressed against his chest, his mask inches from your face. Up close he smells like wood and smoke, like fine whisky. “is that’s my car.”

Shit. Shit shit shit.

“No.” It’s a stupid, instinctual response. Your brain is trying to deny your impending doom. If only the ground would open up and swallow you, that would probably be less painful than whatever he has planned. He nods, pointing at the license plate which you hadn’t checked in your moment of rage, and you struggle to peek at it over your shoulder. “I’m sorry?”

It’s a pathetic little squeak of an apology, a pointless plea for leniency that makes him laugh. “Oh, you’re sorry huh?”

“Yeah, see, I didn’t know it was your car. I thought it was my ex’s and he’s such a jerk and… you don’t care.” He neither confirms nor denies, he just continues holding you close. You can see steely eyes boring into you through the eye holes of his mask. “Are you gonna shoot me?”

He laughs again, realising your arm. Before you can make to leave, he presses forward, caging you between his body and the aesthetically destroyed car. Somehow the new position makes you feel just as trapped but more relaxed than the previous. “Haven’t decided yet.”

You’re not sure what he’s debating between, you’re not sure you want to know, but you ask anyway. “Why?”

“Been a long time since anyone had the guts to talk to me like that. It’s cute.” He’s nodding at you, or maybe to himself. “I’m kinda into it.”

[probablyspooky]

Message Received (Predator X Fem!Reader Guardians Of the Galaxy) Pt. 3

Tag list : @the-official-slasher-fucker

Last Next

Groot and Rocket began their descent into the night, Rocket grumbling about how tired he is. Walking sneakily down the halls into the bowels of the arena, they came across the large iron gate, behind it presumably the cells where they keep their prisoners, if you can even call them prisoners, they were really beginning to doubt The Grandmasters word. Before they approached the door, they stopped to take recon of it, as there were two large guards currently chatting about the next gladiator battle.

“Did you hear about the sold out show?” one asked the other,

“It’s terrible we have to work, I would have killed to see this fight, at night no less, the grandmaster may be a monster, but he’s honestly a business genius”

“Yeah a sold out night show. free snacks to the first 100 guests”

Groaning at this new info, Rocket pulled out his communicator and typed the info to Gamora and the others, as Groot innocently walked towards the gate and two guards.

“Oh what the hell”

Without missing a beat, Groot sprung out two vines, grabbing the legs of both guards and slamming them unconscious onto the ground.

“Groot?! What am i gonna do with you huh?” Rocket, groaned, grabbing the keys off one of the guards and unlocking the gate.

“I am Groot” said Groot

Entering the cell area, Rocket’s ears were greeting by the shouting and commotion that was coming from the male cells to the left. Striding over with a grin, as Rocket enjoys a good fight, he peered into the cell, watching a large figure beat the hell out of a much smaller fish looking alien.

The little creature begged for mercy, the large figure threw his body down on the ground and roared to the rest of the audience watching this display of dominance.

Rocket interrupted this show of brawns beating brains, taking his blaster and running it along the edges of the bars, causing the sound of metal to vibrate off the walls, gathering everyone's attention.

“Hey freaks! It’s one of you guys lucky day! I'm here to bust you out of here-”

Poor choice of words as almost everyone rushed to the front of the bars, grasping at the air in in front of rocket, begging to be let out.

“Woah woah woah! I’m only here for one of you rodeo clowns, so stand forward if you’re one of these guys” Rocket announced, showing his hologram of the clowns.

Like moths to a flame, an insect, a Yautja, a Xandarian, a  Kronan, and a Kree walked to the front of the cell, the other four moving away from the beast that was causing a ruckus earlier.

“There you are xandar!” Rocket chuckled, unlocking the gate pointing his blaster at the rest to keep the back, “Your wife (y/n) called for us to come find you”

Once your name was spoken the yautja charged at the gate, pushing past Rocket down the hall.

“Not my problem right now”, he groaned, dragging the xandarian along with him filling him in on what’s going to happen to you soon if they don’t get you both off planet soon.

“My-my wife?” the xandarian whos name is Toto asked, following far, but close enough behind

“Yeah yeah, you’ll see your wife soon, let just-”, but before he could finish Gamora sent him a  message to hurry back immediately.

Without hesitation Groot and Rocket began to run down the hall, Groot using his vines to grasp Toto's leg and drag him down the hall like a sack of flour.

A bit earlier before Rocket retrieved your ‘husband’, Gamora had tried to retrieve you herself, but discovered your cell empty. The shocking discovery made Gamora briefly panic, looking into the empty cell, she began to fear the worse and turned to return to the group, she was caught by the guards of the Grandmaster, finding herself captured and bound by cuffs.

“Where is the rest of your crew?” one of them demanded from her.

Gamora simply scoffed and refused to reply to the man who currently held her in cuffs. In a last ditch effort, the Guard called the rest of his men to return to their room, and grabbing Gamora’s communicator, messaged Rocket to come back to their room urgently. setting up an ambush for them.

But where were you currently?

Hours before Gamora could come to your rescue, the Grandmaster himself had come to your cell, and taken you to prepare for your debut.

You were dressed in a fine gown, like seafood on a platter, ready to be fed to the most hungry of beasts. You were currently chained to a large rock in the center of the grand arena, awaiting the champion to come take your life.

Once the grandmaster had Rocket, Groot, and Gamora, he had them cuffed in the viewing box. Toto was there as well, but he was not bound in chains.

“What gives?” Rocket struggled against his constraints

“Well you see my little furry monstrosity of a friend, Toto here is one of my favorite rodeo clowns, he would never betray me,” The Grandmaster chuckled, sipping on some of his expensive wine.

“Argh! What about your wife (y/n)?” Gamora shouted

“Uhm...I like men...” Toto said sheepishly, and like that the Grandmaster clapped his hands, and Toto was taken back to his cell.

“Rocket how could you get the wrong man?!” Gamora scolded, staring at Rocket and Groot with angry eyes

“Well I didn’t have much to go on...But I got a feeling her husband got a head start....”

“What does that even mean?” Gamora hissed

“I think he knows” Rocket smirked, looking at the Grandmaster

The Grandmaster groaned, knowing full well what this meant.

“Do you know how long? How long I looked for a beast like that? How hard it was to even capture him?” the Grandmaster uttered under his breath

The grandmaster recalled the events that led to your capture, it brought him a bit of joy recalling  how he managed to get the both of you.

For days they tracked you two, they tracked and they tracked, unable to find you. Until one day you were tired, you were tired of running, you needed to rest. You didn't know why they kept sending men, they had lost so many already. You collapsed onto the cold ground, your husband, who you called Spike, due to the condition of his mandibles being spiked outward, turned to you, begging you to stand up, it wouldn’t be long until your ship, you could escape. His large rough hand, caressing your face gently, he could carry you if he wanted, but he was also exhausted. Standing to your feet again, you felt motivated to move, but then a grapple gun set off, encasing you in a net and dragging you away, your screaming going faint in the distance that was currently growing between you two. 

Spike charged after you, finding you surrounded by the Grandmasters men, guns pinned to all sides of your body, and then the Grandmaster himself stepping out of the shadows.

“Well well well...we have a bit of a deal to make don’t me?” he said with that evil grin of his.

And here you were, trapped again, your life about to end. You began to sob. 

But you weren’t gonna die, Drax and Quill were all that were left of the guardians, and perhaps your husband resented you. Hated you for getting him caught, for making a mockery of his race.

The lights came on in the arena, and they blinded your for a brief moment. Reopening your eyes, you looked up to see a full house, and that large blue hologram of the Grandmaster appear across all sides of the arena.

“Dearest Patrons! I hope you’ve stocked up on snacks and drinks, I’d like to show you my newest champion! I found him on the desert planet, and I think he’s a little hungry for blood. Our little bird (y/n) will do just nice”

With that the hologram disappeared, and the large gate across the way began to raise up, the champion slithered out with a hiss.

A large serpent like beast appeared, large fangs, at least 60 feet long, full of pure muscle. It hissed, and began to make it’s way towards you. You began to struggle against you constraints, as the beast who I will call snake for the sake of combat story writing began to coil back into a striking pose. You braced yourself for an impact that never came. 

Instead you could hear the sounds of rockets, and blasters, as Quill and Drax charged from the stands into the arena, shooting blasters at snake to gather its attention away from you.

Quill took off his Star lord mask and shouted to Drax

“I’ve got this get her out of those binds!”

Drax shouted something about wanting to be in the fight as well, but grumbled and made his way over to you. Groaning about how he is so useful in combat and how it’s a waste of his time to be here.

Quill was quickly slapped back by Snakes tail, and the attention was back on the two of you, snakes end of his tail, gripping onto Drax, and slamming him back into Quill against the wall/

The monsters eyes turned back towards you, and began to coil up again to attack. He released his muscles to launch himself at you, but was blasted painfully in the face, this time purple blood was visible on the ground.

The crowd began to go rowdy as the action was kicking up, Quill throwing his mask on the ground and tuning to Drax.

“What was that?” he shouted, as there seemed to be no one else in the arena, but you knew. You began to cry happy tears, struggling against you restraints. Hearing that familiar clicking sound of your husbands mandibles, a figure began to appear through the air, as if he wasn’t there before. The Yautja stood tall, as he had run out of the cell to gather his equipment, his plasma rifle stood proud on his shoulder, still hissing the smoke that it produced from firing a single blast towards snake.

He quickly ran over to you, and using his strength, he ripped the chains off the rock wall restraining you. You pulled Spike into a hug, which he quickly reciprocated, but quickly throwing you down to the ground, as another thrust of the snakes tail tried to take a swipe at your heads. Quill now free, started firing at snake again, this time aiming at the wound upon his face. Drax quickly equipping his daggers ran up and charged at his face, using the rock wall that used to hold you as a boost, he managed to stab the side of snakes face, and using his weight he dragged the daggers down his neck, slicing a large chuck of his body off, the blood lost was too grand and snake fell to the ground dead. 

The crowd began to cheer and throw things into the arena, Quill and Drax ran over to you and Spike.

“This guy huh?” Quill asked, “Any particular reason?”

“What do you mean by that?” you asked, holding onto Spikes arm, happy to have your mate back in your reach

“He mans that he is very ugly! I mean you’re very ugly as well, but he! He is a new level of hideous!” Drax laughed, and was quickly silenced by  having his head driven to the ground by Spikes clawed hand.

Before anything else could happen, a loud crash could be heard from the Grandmasters viewing box, as he was thrown from the box. Gamora, Rocket and Groot, sliding down on vines.

Without a word the group and you began to make haste towards their ship. The Grandmaster was caught by one of his hologram drones, and soon enough sent drones to fire at their ship. But failed to stop you as you had managed to escape into the depths of space.

You couldn’t stop thanking Gamora for rescuing you and Spike.

“Please stop thanking me, it’s an honor to help people” she would reply, much to Quills annoyance as it was a group effort to get you out.

The trip back to the planet you called home was about a weeks time. Within that time Spike began to keep you close, as a new level of protection made itself known. On the first rest of the ship, the two of you were given your space in a guest room at the bottom of the ship.

You would sit on the edge of the bed and await to be scolded by him. Yet he never did, he would meet you at the edge and kneel down, and look up into your eyes, taking your hands into his, he would purr into your lap, content and happy that you were once his again. The second night, Drax demanded to learn some hand to hand fighting technique's from Spike, which were often met with Spike demolishing Drax, as he was over confident in his skills. The third night, the group had to make a stop at a small off course planet to fill up, the two of you caused a commotion as no one had seen a Yautja  in their mists in centuries.

Returning to your shares room Spike grabbed your face, and placed his forehead against yours.

“Do you often fear my appearance?” he asked, his communicator buzzed along his chest.

“I do not, why do you ask?” you replied, cupping his face in your small hands, rubbing your thumbs across his jaws.

“You are...very appealing to me”

You smiled and placed a kiss on his forehead.

“You are very handsome to me”

[got-into-worm-by-mistake]

Interlude 11h, Live Reactions

Okay.

So.

This is the one I've been really waiting for. So I'm going to go all out for this, because it's, you know, the Interlude. The only one from Arc 11 really worth reading. A key reason I'm even reading Worm in the first place, since if Amy hadn't done this and all that flows from it, Worm probably wouldn't have caught my interest enough back when I made that errant comment.

All the attendant 'this is a live reaction' stuff applies.

Amy sat on her bed, staring at the piece of paper in her hands.  The header at the top was stylized, a silhouette of a superhero with a cape flowing, with a script reading ‘The Guild’ extending to the right.

Given how Amy is going to be reasonably important for the next few arcs, and then show up significantly more in the back half of the work than she did Arcs 1-11, I kind of feel like...

This is too late to be getting our first Amy POV?

I mean, Amy's been sort of lurking at the end of the narrative for a while, and blind readers have presumably guessed all the teases about Amy are building up to something, and they are, but like...

A lot has to be fit into this Interlude, all at once, and maybe some of it could have, and indeed should have, been shown earlier, I'm gonna guess?

Like, any hypothetical worm TV show is absolutely going to have to show some of Amy's life much sooner than this. It's just not going to work if this is suddenly the first glimpse we get of Amy's perspective.

But also, BABYGIRL! AMY! MY LITTLE MEOW MEOW!

Mrs. Carol Dallon.  Brandish, Let me open by stating my condolences for the loss of your brother-in-law, nephew, and your husband’s injury.  I have heard New Wave is currently considering disbanding, and you have my best wishes, whatever route you end up taking.  We have too few heroes and heroines to lose them, and even fewer of the truly good heroes and heroines who set the standard for everyone else, parahuman and human alike.  If finances ever become a concern, know that all you need to do is ask, and we will find you employment among the Guild’s uncostumed staff. Knowing what you have been through as of late, it is with a heavy heart that I send you this message with further bad news.  Marquis, interred in the Baumann Parahuman Containment Center, confided to another inmate that he fears for his daughter’s life.  I have checked the facts to the best of my ability, and the details I have been able to dig up match with his story.  I must warn you that Allfather may have arranged for Amy Dallon to be murdered at some future date, in revenge for his own daughter’s death at Marquis’ hands.

Dragon.

Really.

Bitch.

WHY? Allfather is dead. Kaisar is dead. What made you think that this threat is at all likely to be borne out?!

She had to stop reading there.  The paper had been on Carol’s bedside table, and Amy had found it while collecting a change of clothes for Mark a week ago.  Carol had probably been reading it to him late the previous night, and maybe forgot to put it away due to a mixture of exhaustion and the distractions that came with waking up each morning to a disabled husband and a ten-year career in jeopardy.

This is Carol. Fuck her. She left it out on purpose.

(Okay, probably not, but remember This Is A Carol Dallon Hate Blog)

Marquis had been an aspiring crime lord in the bad old days of Brockton Bay.  It had been a time when the villains had been flocking to the city to profit off the booming tech and banking sectors, to recruit mooks and henchmen from the city’s unemployed dockworkers.  It had been an era when the heroes hadn’t been properly established, and the villains had been confident enough that some didn’t give a second thought to murdering any heroes who got in their way.  Marquis included. The bad old days were how Carol and Mark referred to that time.  There were more heroes now, and there was more balance between the good guys and the bad, but things were arguably worse now.  Everything was in shambles. Marquis had been an osteokinetic.  A manipulator of both his own bone and, provided some was exposed, the bones of his enemies.  He’d been notorious enough that she’d heard about him despite the fact that he’d been arrested more than a decade ago, that the city and the public had remembered him.  He’d lived in the outskirts of the city, residing in a large house in the woods, just beneath the mountains.

If Amy wasn't quite so neurotic, and hadn't been gifted by so many fucking issues by Carol, Marquis being her dad shouldn't have bothered her this much.

Because yes, villain. Yes, evil. But also - less evil than the Teeth. Less evil than E88. Less evil than Galvante. He was notorious. He did do a lot of bad things. But of all the options that were likely, he's... the best one? Unironically, any of the alternatives of that era would have been worse.

It's kind of hilarious, in an infuriating way, she melts down so much over the news that the best behaved of Brockton Bay's old class of villains is her dad. And it's because Carol gave her this stark, black and white 'Criminal is a state of being, not defined by choice' mindset.

So convinced that she's a monster already, between her power, her feelings for Vicky and Mommy dearest, this just feels like proof.

To all reports, the man had been heartless, callous.  Wasn’t she?  She couldn’t bring herself to care anymore when she went to the hospitals to heal the injured and sick.  It was a chore, something she made herself do because people wouldn’t understand if she stopped.  There were only so many people she could heal before she became desensitized to it.

Because you became inured to it, Amy! You did care once! Don't do this to yourself!

*shakes Amy by the shoulders* PLEASE!

Not hard to pull the pieces together.  She could remember how quickly Neil had dropped the subject when he realized she was listening.  He hadn’t outright said that they’d caught Marquis, but she could imagine that the weaknesses that Neil had been outlining had been what they’d used.  Send Lady Photon, Brandish and Fleur against the man.  Add the fact that Amy had been there, a toddler, and Marquis had been too concerned about collateral damage to go all out.

Toddler? Wait, I thought Amy was six?

Oh, right, #Wildbowsucksattime

But yeah. Let's attack the supervillain in his own home and let his daughter get caught in the crossfire! Oh, you didn't know about her? And if you'd killed her, that would have mattered not at all.

The slight hurt more than she’d expected.  It wasn’t like it was something new.  It had been going on for weeks.  And it was fully deserved.

No. It really isn't. Fuck you Victoria. Amy has very good, if probably misguided, reasons for not doing brains. Leaving aside the fact of her fears of her power and stuff, messing with brains is no simple prospect. Even if she could heal him, there's no guarantee it's Mark again. And if she did heal him and he came out not Mark, not the Mark they knew, who the fuck do you think gets the blame for that from Carol?

Sure as shit not you, Vicky!

Like, yes, Back in Interlude 2, we get a bit of foreshadowing, Vicky's belief that Amy does need to learn to do brains, needs to accept she may need to do them. And Vicky was right then. But she has no right to get angry at Amy, to act like what Amy is doing by refusing to break her rule, is doing something wrong. Yes, I wish Amy would do this. I wish Amy would be willing to break her rule, just a little, to help Mark.

But pressuring Amy like this, getting upset with her, guilting her - fuck you, Vicky. Fuck you.

Again, I feel like this is the sort of thing we needed to see sooner.

It was all falling apart.  This family had never fully accepted her.  Being in the midst of a family that all worked together, it was hard to preserve secrets.  Amy had learned a few years ago, overhearing a conversation between Carol and Aunt Sarah, that Carol had initially refused to take her in.  Her adoptive mother had only accepted in the end because she’d had a job and Aunt Sarah didn’t.  One kid to Aunt Sarah’s two.  When she’d taken Amy in, it hadn’t been out of love or caring, but grudging obligation and a sense of duty.

Hm. And maybe, just maybe, that's why Amy feels so obligated to burn herself out by constantly healing. Maybe, just maybe.

Jesus christ, I will be forever amazed that Wildbow created a character that is the fucking PLATONIC IDEAL of a Woobifiable character and then had the gall to be surprised people were woobifying her.

Man just never has understood how fandom works.

Victoria was appalled, seething with anger, brimming with resentment, because Amy couldn’t, wouldn’t, heal their father. They’d fought, and Amy hadn’t been able to defend her position, 

I find that very hard to believe. it's not hard to defend 'doing brains is a very bad idea'.

Then again, Amy is under insane stress and pressure and people aren't very good at reasoning through shit under pressure.

Again, I really feel like this needed to be spaced out better. Maybe 11h being the first Amy POV is fair, I can see why he'd do that, but these details about Mark, at least? That needed to come out sooner. It's just -

Too much is being packed in here. Too much.

The letter.  Carol wasn’t angry in the same way Victoria was.  What Amy felt from her ‘mother’ was a chill.  She knew that she was only justifying the darker suspicions Carol had harbored towards her since she was first brought into the family.  It was doubly crushing now, because Amy knew about Marquis.  Amy knew that Carol was thinking the same thing she was. Marquis was one of the organized killers.  He had his rules, he had his code, and so did Amy.  Amy wouldn’t use her power to affect people’s minds.  Like father, like daughter.

I mean, a lot of this is just Amy's own neuroses working against her, but seriously, people who act like Carol isn't the source of virtually every one of Amy's problems baffle me. People don't think like this without a reason. Carol's behavior gave her reasons to think like this.

A girl stood in the living room, five or so years younger than Amy.  Her blond hair had been curled into ringlets with painstaking care, but the rest of her was unkempt, filthy.  She stared at Mark, who was struggling and failing to stand from the couch.

Fucking Bonesaw.

Normally I like to call people by their names, rather than dignify them with their stupid cape names, though it depends, but no. Bonesaw doesn't get a name. Fuck her. I hate Bonesaw. Unfair? A little, yeah. She's a victim, a worse victim than nearly anyone else in Worm, arguably.

I just don't care.

Amy, kill her. Kill her right here. Right now.

“Yes!  I can’t even begin to tell you how hard it was.  I mean, I had to conduct the operation from a remote location, using robots, because I would lose my Tinker powers if I got too close to the big lug.  And I had to fit their bodies and nervous systems together so that they could use their powers without messing up the other.”

Oh, my heart bleeds for you, Bonebitch. Tell us all about how hard it was to make a monstrous freak of nature! As if you and your little brain parasite (shard) didn't love every psychopathic second of it.

Bonesaw smiled.  “I thought you’d appreciate this more than anyone.” “Appreciate this.” “You’re the only other person who works with meat.  I mean, we’re different in some ways, but we’re also really similar, aren’t we?  You manipulate people’s biology, and I tinker with it.  The human body’s only a really intricate, wet machine, isn’t it?”

I can honestly only laugh at the level of delusion this horrible little girl possesses. Not funny laugh, just... what the fuck else is there to do laugh.

“That’s good!”  Bonesaw smiled at Amy, “I knew we’d make a good team!” “Team?”  What could she say or do to escape?  Failing that, was there anything she could use to kill herself, so Bonesaw couldn’t get her hands on them, turn them into something like those things?  In the worst case scenario, she could use her power on Mark before finishing herself off.

Alternate universe where Bonesaw never gets it into her head that Amy should be her buddy.

Alternate universe where Bonesaw gets killed in a freak accident involving a frozen turkey falling from a great height at high velocities and squashing her.

Alternate universe where Bonesaw dies messily and bloodily and her body burns in a fucking nuclear fire.

“Language!”  Bonesaw admonished, with surprising fierceness.

I...I can't take this seriously.

I hate Bonesaw, for what she does to Amy, for how her fucking delusions lead to Amy's life being destroyed, but again, she's not actually that compelling. She's just...

Sick and twisted and...

Fucking annoying.

'Language'. Right. She really cares that much about it. Because Jack Slash really cares that much.

“Jack’s taken me on as his protegé.  Teaching me the finer points of being an artist. 

Artist? Artist? Artist? Artist? ARTIST?

My GOD is Jack Slash pretentious.

Actually, dare I say it?

Jack Slash is Edgy.

(What. I need to find something to laugh at as I read this or I'll combust with how much I hate Bonesaw right now)

(I genuinely don't understand fics that want to imagine some Amy & Bonesaw friendship, or Amy and 'Riley' or whatever, in some universe where Bonesaw does what she does to Amy and then survives to be redeemed or something. Even if Amy went evil and joined S9, I can't imagine her gleefully embracing Bonesaw's delusions. an S9 Amy probably murders Bonesaw at the first opportunity.)

and they’re kind of family.  I want you in my family, Amy Dallon.”

And I want to enter this work of fiction, grab you, and string you up by your entrails.

But we can't always get what we want, Bonebitch.

Amy looked at her hand.  She’d just taken a life.  A mercy, most probably, but she’d killed.  Something she had promised herself she would never do. She shivered.  It had been so easy.  Was this what it was like for her father?  Had she just taken one more step toward being like him?

See, and now this is where the problem with rigid moral codes hits. When they don't have any flexibility, for situations like this, when you build this hard, solid edifice and expect it to hold up against everything...

It's strong, sure, but it's brittle. And when you, like Amy, pin your entire sense of yourself, your entire sense of being a good person, on a few rigid codes, you absolutely will shatter.

Amy absolutely shouldn't have built herself such an inflexible moral edifice. If the girl had had any sort of actual therapy, she might not have. If she'd had a mother that wasn't Carol, she might not have.

But she did.

And it shattered.

Again... I just don't understand Wildbow, and Ward. Slaughterhouse Nine, and the role they played in destroying Amy's psyche and sense of herself and sense of morality barely shows up in the text, because god forbid we allow context to get in the way of his weird attempt at a rape culture metaphor or whatever the fuck he was on.

“Ready to join?” Bonesaw asked, looking for all the world like a puppy when her master had the leash out, ready for a walk.  Eager, brimming with excitement.

And the funny part is that this useless waste of carbon atoms actually thinks that's all that's needed.

and then we could make one superperson out of a hundred capes, and all of the powers would be full strength because you helped and we could use it to stop one of the Endbringers,

Oh fuck off Bonesaw. You wouldn't dare do anything so interesting as use your creations to fight an Endbringer. and even if you were capable of mustering enough vision for that, Jacky McEdgelord would hardly let you do something so creative.

“No,” Amy said.  Then, just to make it clear, she added, “No, it’s not going to happen.  I won’t join you.” “You will!  You have to!” “No.” “I have to do like Jack said.  He said I won’t be a true genius until I’ve figured out how to get inside people’s heads.” “Maybe- Maybe you won’t be inside my head until you realize there’s no way I’m going to join the Slaughterhouse Nine.”

You know, I'm not really interested in 'Amy goes off the rails level evil' fics, but you know what? Let's have one of those. Bonesaw breaks Amy and then Amy kills her and the rest of Slaughterhouse Nine because why the fuck would she hang out with them? If Amy really stopped caring and wanted to go evil, there's still no reason for her to be so BORING as to join Uselesshouse Nine

“I’m doing you a favor, really!”  Bonesaw raised her voice to be heard over the screams.  “You’ll thank me!”

I mean, I hate Bonesaw, I hate her with the heat of a million suns. And I don't hate any of the other members of S9 because again, BORING.

So in that sense, Bonesaw is a compelling villain.

But she's also boring, because she's just...

This.

Nothing interesting about what she's doing. Torture and hybrid monsters and plagues and murder just for the sake of it. She learns all this shit about powers and does nothing with it.

I hate her so much not because she's compelling in her own right, but because I'm so obsessively into Amy as a character, and so desperately want her to be happy.

Everything else in the world seemed to drop away.  She pressed her forehead to his.  Everything biological was shaped in some way by what it had grown from and what had come before.  Rebuilding the damaged parts was a matter of tracing everything backwards.  Some of the brain was impossible to restore to what it had once been, in the most damaged areas or places where it was the newest growths that were gone, but she could check everything in the surrounding area, use process of elimination and context to figure out what the damaged areas had tied to. She felt tears in her eyes.  She had told herself she would heal him and then leave the Dallon household.  Actually doing this, fixing him, taking that plunge, she knew she would probably never have found the courage if she hadn’t been pushed into it. It wasn’t that she was afraid to get something wrong.  No.  Even as complicated as the mind was, she’d always known she could manage it.  No, it was what came after that scared her more than anything.  Just like finding out about Marquis, it was the opening of a door she desperately wanted to keep shut.

Again. Platonic ideal of a woobifiable character.

I just

I just don't get so many people.

This this -

Who the fuck reacts to 'I'm saving my dad from a serial killer by healing his brain' with 'I need to run away from home as soon as I'm done?'

Someone who desperately doesn't want to do bad things. Who is terrified of themselves. Who has more baggage than an airport and more issues than a Hudson News.

Someone who is intensely fucked up, and knows it and doesn't know what to do about it.

Certainly not someone who has just been... what, we're supposed to believe she was just waiting for the opportunity to mess with Vicky's brain? The excuse? That what she does to Vicky was the real her the whole time?

If I somehow had enough money to convince Wildbow to sell all the legal rights to all of the Wormverse, nuking Ward from existence across the Internet would be step 0. Also nuking r/parahumans.

The tagline of the Wormverse may as well be 'creating compelling characters the author somehow doesn't understand since 2011. Now with bonus queerphobia and racism!'

Her face burned with shame.  She made her way to her room and began packing her things into a gym bag.  Clothes, toiletries, and other things, mementos.  A small scrapbook, a memory card filled with pictures of her, her cousins and her sister.  She found a pad of post-it notes and scribbled out a few words. I’m sorry it took me so long to help Mark. Good bye.  I love you all, Amy. She wouldn’t be coming back. Amy opened her bedroom window and climbed out, pulling the bag out behind her.

Amy Please, fucking hell just - no.

Don't.

Please.

Don't FUCKING DO THIS!

“We could get you a therapist.  I mean, Mom was setting aside money for Dad’s care, we could use that to give you someone to talk to.” “I… a therapist wouldn’t be able to help.”

Yes, yes it could.

But she's so convinced, so sure there's no coming back from it.

“Fuck that!  I’m not about to let you walk away!”  Victoria floated closer, reaching out. “Don’t touch me,” Amy warned her sister.

It's hard to say. We don't see them just... existing in normal circumstances. Not in Worm. We don't know what their life was like before it all collapses.

But it's really hard to not look at... everything Victoria says and does, from Interlude 2, and this, and the fact that she does end up touching Amy despite the 'don't touch' and...

I'm pretty sure Vicky has a long history of ignoring or pushing Amy's boundaries. Of touching her when Amy doesn't want to be touched. Dragging her on those double dates she manifestly doesn't want to go on. Pushing her to keep healing all those people she nearly kills to cover up her crimes. Constantly pushing Amy to heal Mark.

And Amy, because she was probably too afraid to have boundaries when she first moved into the Dallon household, and then too used to letting Vicky get away with it, and then Vicky was her only source of stability and affection so of course Amy lets her get away with it.

And then she falls in love with Vicky and the idea of saying no to her becomes a lot harder.

And Vicky, of course, just sees that Amy's boundaries aren't really boundaries. She just needs to push a little and her sister's totally cool with whatever. Amy loves her. She loves Amy. Boundaries are what now?

(I say this with love, I really do, but I'm pretty sure Vicky isn't the most respectful of boundaries in general. Not intentionally, just... you know, by accident, a lot).

Vicky does not deserve what happens to her next, or later. Again, shouldn't need to say it, but this fucking fandom.

But she absolutely should have listened when Amy said 'no!' Time and again.

No is always a complete fucking sentence.

“Idiot,” Victoria grabbed her sister by the shirt collar and pulled her into a painfully tight hug. “Don’t,” Amy moaned into her sister’s shoulder. “All of this?  We’ll work it out.  As a family.  And if your idea of family means it’s just you and me, then we’ll work it out together, just the two of us.”

A perfect storm of the worst possible fucking thing to say when you're already shattering her boundaries.

All it took was one moment of weakness, and she was weak.  At the end of her rope, desperately lonely, haunted by her father’s shadow, her shame at being unwilling and unable to help Mark until now, the idea that one of the Slaughterhouse Nine thought she belonged with them? She was losing everything so quickly.  Victoria was all she had, and it was the choice between abandoning that for everyone’s good and keeping Victoria close. She felt Victoria’s body more acutely than she felt her own.  Every heartbeat, every cell brimming with life. Like a flame at the end of a long fuse, leading to a stick of dynamite, her power traveled from the side of Victoria’s neck to her brain.  It was barely a conscious action on Amy’s part.

Again it's so weird that Wildbow can write this, and then... not get it? Powers work on thoughts. Powers work on errant impulses and yes, you can restrain your thoughts, prevent them to become action, but intrusive thoughts are a thing, and it really isn't always easy to hold them back, especially in the state she's in, the state he put her in, with the way powers work, the way he decided powers work...

The man builds this elaborate device made of dozens of checkov's guns and then insists, years later, he never fired a single one of them.

The plain fucking TEXT makes it clear, christ on a fucking bike.

The magnitude of what she’d just done hit her with a suddenness and pain she likened to a bullet to the chest.  “Oh god.  Please, let me undo it.” She reached out, but Victoria stepped back. “What the hell did you do?” Victoria asked, her eyes wide, “I felt something.  I feel something.  You’ve used your power on me before, but not like this.  I- You changed the way I think.  More than that.” Tears welled at the corners of Amy’s eyes.  “Please.  This is what I was afraid of.  Let me undo it.  Let me fix it and leave, and you can go back to Mark and Carol and you three can be a family, and-”

If we're supposed to believe this was a deliberate, willing, fully conscious choice by her (which is what Wildbow and his Church insist is what 'barely a conscious action' means here), then this makes no sense.

But of course, Why would Wildbow care about a coherent narrative? Why would his Church? They have Words of God! Those matter more than the fucking TEXT.

“You have to understand, for so long, you were all I had.  I was so desperately lonely, and that was at the same time I was starting to worry about my dad.  I got fucked up, my feelings got muddled somewhere along the line, and it’s like… maybe because you were safe, because you were always there.” “You have feelings for me,” Victoria answered.  She couldn’t keep the disgust out of her voice, she didn’t even try.  “That’s what Tattletale was using as leverage, wasn’t it?”

Let's circle back to something I said earlier -

This needed to be revealed sooner, to us, the reader. Or... something.

Revealing all this, all at once, all in one chapter?

There's just too much going on here.

Amy found out Marquis is her dad

we find out about Mark

we find out about Vicky pressuring Amy to heal Mark

Bonesaw and all her shit

Amy runs away

Vicky finds her

Vicky finds out about Marquis

Amy changes Vicky and the full story of Amy's feelings come out and it's just...

Worm suffers from too much happening in quick succession in general, but man this Interlude is the fucking textbook case.

“Please.  Let me fix it.  Then I’ll leave.  You’ll never have to see me again.” “What in the world makes you think I’d let you use your power on me again!?”  Victoria shouted, taking to the air, out of reach.  “Who knows what you’re going to do to me!?”

Okay, so like...

I do get this, I really do. You just had your entire sense of... everything shattered, with regards to how you see your Sister, and you're under a lot of stress too but -

You've known and trusted your sister for years. You just fucking said it. She's explicitly saying she didn't mean to, that this isn't something she wanted to do...

I mean, I imagine if not for... everything that's about to happen, Vicky might calm down in a few days and give Amy a chance to fix this. I'd like to believe that anyway.

I get it. I do. I don't... I don't blame Vicky for this, but...

Still. Wrong choice, Glory Girl.

Victoria shook her head slowly, then scoffed.  “Good job, Amy.  You just did an excellent job of taking every instance of me defending you, every instance of my giving you the benefit of a doubt, and proving me fucking wrong.  You were worried about being as fucked up as your dad?  Congratulations, I’m pretty goddamn sure you just surpassed the man.”

Jesus christ, Vicky.

Again. Heat of the moment. You're furious.

But like...

If she was surpassing him, she'd have changed your brain more. To make you like it. You're supposed to be smart. Be smart.

---

Well.

Interlude 11h. The only Interlude really worth reading for this Arc, and jesus fucking christ I'm emotionally exhausted. My own fault, but fucking fuckfuckfuckfuck.