#thank you for the ask anon!! and again sorry it took a bit^^;

[melverie]

if you get this, answer w/ three random facts about yourself and send it to the last seven blogs in your notifs. anon or not, doesn’t matter, let’s get to know the person behind the blog! (sorry if you already got this!)

Sorry it took a bit to answer anon. College and work have been killing me these past few days^^;

01 - I speak five languages (German, French, English, Japanese and Korean) at varying levels of proficiency. I actually had my Korean final yesterday and I'd say it went pretty well 👀 Also I learned Italian for a while, though I only remember some basic phrases, how to say one idiom & how to flirt

02 - Ever since the Sins of Flesh update I've been SO obsessed with Cult of the Lamb again. These past few days the game icon just kept staring into my soul while I was trying my best to stay strong and focus on studying Speaking of being obsessed over games, once the new Professor Layton game releases I'm going to be SO annoying. Those games were my childhood :)

03 - When planning out a story, I have the habit of writing the plot details out on flashcards and putting them up on my walls. I get embarrassed over it whenever someone other than a select group of friends come over though, so when someone else visits I usually end up taking them down only to hang them back up once that person is gone lol

Bonus fact!

This one is probably going to MASSIVELY wrap everyone's view of me, but I feel like half of the more creative school work I submitted ended up being fandom related:

In eighth grade, we were supposed to write a two page long story about a murder case, and I just made it a Professor Layton x Phoenix Wright crossover. I even took one of the cases from Phoenix Wright as the base for my story, and I only barely changed the names, so you could EASILY tell that it was fanfiction

I got my English teacher to watch Assassination Classroom because we had to give a 3 minute presentation on something we liked. That's the same teacher that made one of his tests entirely about Batman btw, he was great <3 I also got my math teacher to watch the anime AND read the manga because I asked him about one math problems from it that I just didn't get. He wrote down the solution and literally programmed a little something to help me better understand how to get there. Another great teacher <3

Had to write a three-word story (you're given three words as prompts and have to built a short story around them), except one of the words was "chinchilla". I ended up writing about a "killer chinchilla" which is just the nickname my sister gave Minccino

I once ended up the state winner in a nation-wide art competition with a Pokémon ORAS-themed watercolor drawing I did (that piece was graded, so I'm counting it toward school work)

We were tasked with drawing a picture inspired by a song. I took My Hero Academia's first ED and made the drawing itself about My Hero Academia as well. Burnt through way too many pencils for this one. They hung it right next to the teachers' room, idk if it's still there tho

That same year we were also tasked with "building a creative trash can", and so I decided to make a little Korok that collects paper waste in a little bag. I also learned how to sew in order to make the bag, so that's cool (pic below!)

I somehow convinced my teacher to let me write my seminar paper on My Hero Academia

In elementary school, my friend group came up with a play set in Animal Crossing, and I ended up writing the entire thing (as in literally writing it so that you could act it out in Animal Crossing itself). That wasn't school work by any means, but regardless, I still very much did print it out just so I could give it to my homeroom teacher, so there's that

Also not school work, but once again in seventh grade I wrote an Animal Crossing New Leaf fanficiton (???) where you could vote what would happen next on the end of every chapter. A good portion of my class read it and I also made my PE teacher read the first chapter

That's by far not all of it but those were the first few things that popped into mind. Anyway, here's the pic of my little Korok paper waste collector!

[dootznbootz]

I just wanted to say your Penelope/odypen content is so comforting to me. Especially when I see really bad Epic/the Odyssey takes. Just today I saw someone say that Penelope was Odysseus’s second choice after Helen and it made me SO MAD!! Like not only is it devaluing their connection (as if there isn’t an entire word made to describe it) but saying that Helen was “out of Odysseus’s league” feels insulting to both? Like not only is Odysseus not enough but Penelope is also the lesser of two options. As if she couldn’t be amazing on her own. I love your takes and how they’re both equals in the relationship. Penelope isn’t just some prize Odysseus comes home too.

Sorry for the rant, but I really love your content!

AAAA thank you so much 😭 I'm so honored that you find my silly goobers comforting!!! 🥹

And I totally get what you mean with like, bad takes!!! ;~; Like folks getting all weird with Odysseus wanting Helen first and/or HELEN wanting Odysseus first (as though Helen didn't see that big, autistic, blond man with big, brown eyes and didn't immediately think "MINE!" Childhood friend like in my stuff or not)

I've seen folks try to say that Odysseus made the olive tree bed with HELEN in mind which...No. Olives are Athena's thing and Athena watches over BOTH Penelope and Odysseus. Why would he do that for Helen??? Like, in my stuff I have it where it's like 3-4 months between the Oath of Tyndareus and Odysseus asking for Penelope's and the race with Icarius, so Odysseus was on Ithaca carving it for Penelope during that time for her. (Icarius being snarky as well to be like "hey, I'll even let you get some practice time.")

Like, Helen IS wonderful. She's my silly, sparky girl. <3 but yeah, My guy is ace/demi and didn't feel anything with Helen in that way. (Helen has an "aura" about her but Odysseus didn't feel it romantically/sexually. They're friends. He just thought "waow. O_O You're cool/have freaky eyes...Anyways~ Could you be my wingwoman for Penelope? Please?")

[leifygreeens]

Hello, I was wondering if I could request Kent x Reader if you don’t mind since you said requests are open? The dynamic being an oblivious farmer who is just very polite and unaware as fuck while Kent is basically just like “I would both kill and die for you” (I apologize I am completely obsessed with him)

I don’t personally feel anything but platonic fondness for the rest of the townies, so this was a really nice challenge. It did take me forever to write because it gave me a lot of trouble and I kept rewriting it, but I eventually landed on this and I’m pretty pleased with it. They’re both dumb, but they figure themselves out by the end. I really hope I did your prompt justice, anon, and that maybe it was worth the wait! Enjoy! <3

2650-ish Words. This is a monster. I don’t like writing infidelity, so you can be sure that there is a hefty amount of canon divergence, even if I don’t mention anything outright. GN!Farmer. This is a little suggestive at certain moments, they flirt quite a bit (Kent does it knowingly, the Farmer does not because they are an oblivious shit), and there’s drinking, but nobody’s drunk. Ah, and there’s cursing, and Kent imagines the Farmer being all roughed up once (nothing explicit), and I use “Yoba” instead of “God.” Yanno. For immersion. I do say “fuck you” to the immersion in favor of using our twelve-month calendar year, though, so. There’s also that. Lmfao

Kent swirls the scotch in his glass, watching the amber liquid slosh around with the ice. It’s Friday night, half-past seven p.m., and the saloon is lively and bright. He’s been people-watching since he arrived, settled alone in his little corner. Marnie and Lewis still haven’t figured out their shit, Robin is attempting to teach Demetrius to dance without stepping on her toes once again, and Elliott is lamenting his writer’s block to Leah at the table over.

Same old, same old.

“Evening. This seat taken?” The Farmer asks, a nearly-empty drink in hand and a knowing grin on their face. 

Except for this. This is a relatively new development.

Kent smiles up at them. “You know it isn’t.”

“Just in case.” The Farmer settles down on the stool next to him, the legs of their newly claimed chair screeching terribly against the worn down hardwood of the saloon. His heart tries to leap out of his throat and into their careful, calloused hands, but he swallows it down with another sip of liquor. It burns his throat terribly, but he welcomes the distraction.

“I haven’t seen you at the saloon in a while,” Kent says, his voice rough from the alcohol. They take a sip of their own drink—something deep red and fruity, with a cherry sitting at the bottom of their glass.

“I try to take a little break at least once a week, but last week was hectic as hell.” They sigh, a satisfied smile on their lips as they sit back.

“Yeah? You get a lot of work done on the farm?” Kent asks, openly checking them out as they set their drink down and stretch their arms high over their head. A few months ago he would’ve been more discreet, but now he’s given up entirely on subtlety. The Farmer never notices anyway. The face they make as they stretch has his mouth going dry, and he drinks a too-large sip of his scotch, trying not to make a face about it.

“Before the snow hit, yeah, but now there isn’t really anything for me to do. Winter doesn’t make it easy for crops, so I’ve been collecting other things to sell. Animal products, gems, that sort of thing.” The Farmer settles down, done with their stretching, and Kent silently thanks the universe for giving him a break. “Actually, I was in the desert today. I haven’t been to the skull caverns in a while, so I spent most of the day down there.”

He immediately rescinds his gratitude, and sets his glass down with a sharp thunk.

“You went to the caverns?”

The Farmer nods, shrugging a bit as their mouth twists into a frown. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a great run, if I’m honest. A few gems and geodes. I wanted iridium ore, but there was basically nothing. I only got three nuggets from what was there because I spent so long beating back monsters.”

That last bit has Kent’s blood running backward, and he taps his fingers on the table-top, the beat agitated and quick. “That’s unfortunate.” 

The Farmer snorts. “Yeah, tell me about it. I could’ve gotten more done if I just stayed home, honestly. But it’s my fault for going on a bad luck day.”

He doesn’t know what the fuck that means, if he’s honest, and he’s not particularly superstitious himself, but he’s learned not to question them. Except now the thought of the Farmer being overrun by monsters won’t dissipate, and it’s making his stomach turn. He clenches his jaw. 

“You should bring me with you next time.”

The Farmer looks up at him, their eyes wide and stunned for only a moment before they’re chuckling into their glass. “Yeah? You wanna be my good luck charm, Kent?”

Yoba, he does.

The Farmer licks their lips clean, and whatever juice Gus mixed up with their alcohol has stained their lips and tongue a ruddy red.

He leans forward, propping his chin up on the palm of his hand, and smiles. “I could be.”

They laugh outright, bright and delighted. Kent absently notices the quick glances they’re receiving from the other patrons. Nosy.

“You know, I was talking with some of the ladies at Caroline’s aerobics class on Tuesday,” the Farmer starts, rolling the stem of their glass between their pinched fingers. Their smile is soft. “They said something interesting about you.”

Kent raises an amused eyebrow. “You gossiping about me, Farmer?”

“It was against my will, I assure you.” They deadpan, and Kent laughs, covering his grin with a wide palm.

“Enlighten me, then: what trivia did they bestow upon you against your will?” Kent asks.

“They said you never smile unless you’re with me,” The Farmer says quickly, rushed out in one breath like they can't say it fast enough. Kent’s eyes widen, and he’s pretty sure there’s steam rising from the top of his head, but the Farmer doesn’t catch any of it because they refuse to look at him. “And that I’m the only one who’s been able to make you laugh, since you came back.”

They were gossiping like roosting hens, the lot of them. Kent sighs heavily, harsh and a little embarrassed. How can they see it, but not the Farmer?

Still…

“They’re wrong, actually.” Kent straightens up, pushing his near empty glass aside. 

“Yeah?” The Farmer asks, and Kent doesn’t try to think too hard about why they sound so disappointed, or why they’re fighting back a frown.

“Even before getting drafted, I wasn’t like this.” Kent admits, and he can feel the tips of his ears flushing hotly at what he’s about to confess next. “I’ve never been like this with anyone, actually.”

“Oh.” The Farmer blinks owlishly, their hand stilling on their glass. “Really?”

Kent shakes his head, humming an affirmative. “Just you.”

“So… I’m special?” They ask, and it’s obvious they��re joking, the tilt of their lips just a little too teasing, but he doesn’t care. It’s obvious, and they’ll figure it out for themselves eventually.

“Are you going to the caverns again tomorrow?” Kent asks instead of answering, flagging down Emily for the bill. She notices immediately, and Kent knows it’s because she was staring. Everyone is always fucking staring.

“Um.” The Farmer picks at a loose thread on their shirt, even though there isn’t one. He doesn’t mention it. “Yeah, I was—I was thinking about it, if the day’s luck is good.”

“You don’t need to check if it is.” Kent watches Emily walk out from behind the bar, the bill and a pen in hand. “I’ll be your good luck charm, remember?”

The Farmer opens their mouth to respond, with the prettiest blush on their face, but Emily finally appears at their table, effectively cutting them off.

“Here you are,” Emily says, a curious smile on her face as she hands him the bill. 

He sets the bill on the table and reaches into his pocket for his wallet. “Thanks, Emily. How’s business tonight?” 

“Fridays are always busy, so it’s going well, I suppose. What about you two? How’s your night so far?” She asks, mischief sparkling in her calculating blue eyes. Even if Kent didn’t know her and Haley were siblings, the way they look at the world would give it away immediately. Haley’s eyes are far more cunning, but still. Two peas in a pod.

Kent places a few heavy coins in the tray, making sure to tip her a few extra than usual, and passes it back. “Great, but we’ve got plans to go into the desert early tomorrow, so we’re gonna head out.”

“Calico Desert?” Emily asks, and Kent is almost surprised she doesn’t push for more info. “My friend Sandy lives over there!”

Ah. That’s why.

“I’ll make sure to say hi to her for you,” The Farmer jumps in, making deliberate eye contact with Emily. The smile on their face is polite, but distracted.

“Would you?” Emily smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Farmer. I appreciate it.”

“You’re welcome.” The Farmer’s returning smile is genuine this time, and Kent’s heart thumps heavily against his ribcage. If they make his heart race any more, he’ll have to check in with Harvey for potential bruising.

“Well, you’re all set, so y’all have a good night,” Emily says with a smile, reaching out to pluck their empty glasses off the table.

“You too.” Kent stands up, pushing his chair in and waiting for the Farmer to get up to their feet. “Are you ready to go? Got everything?”

The Farmer nods, and Kent follows them with his hands shoved into his jacket pockets as they walk out. He takes one hand out to hold the door for them as they step out into the frigid winter air, and almost immediately his fingers are numb. He’s never been able to handle the cold very well. It’s in his best interest to head home, to get out of it and into some central heating, but…

“Can I walk you home?” Kent asks quietly, after the door swings shut behind them. The Farmer stops short, and he can’t tell if the flush is from the cold or from something else.

“You’re welcome to, but don’t you hate the cold?” The Farmer gestures vaguely at the snowflakes floating around them. “Shouldn’t I be the one walking you home?”

Kent smiles, his chest suddenly light. “Maybe, but your place is farther, and I don’t wanna say goodnight to you just yet.”

“Like my company that much, huh?” The Farmer asks, cocking their head to the side as they slip their hands into their pockets. The collar of their winter jacket pulls against the back of their neck, and Kent steps onto the icy path. 

“Let’s get you home, Farmer.” Kent starts walking, expecting them to follow. He smiles at the sound of their boots crunching against the frosted grass and gravel, and starts heading for the farmlands.

“You ignoring my questions on purpose, Kent?” They ask, but he knows it isn’t a question.

“Yep.” He nods. “We’re taking the bus tomorrow morning, right? What time should I meet you there?”

They sigh, playfully irritated, and he grins to himself. “Pam usually gets there at 9, so I should be good to head out at eight-fifty? If that works for you?”

“Eight-fifty it is, then. Anything in particular that you’re looking for down there?”

They sigh, looking up at the cloudy sky as they walk past Marnie’s. “Same thing as today. I really need iridium so I can get Clint to upgrade all of my tools before the new year, and I need my hoe upgraded desperately if I want to make a profit off of strawberries next spring.”

“Thinking that far ahead, huh?” Kent glances at the sketchy caravan beyond the trees next to Cindersap, and purposely puts himself between it and the Farmer. 

“Not by much, but I have to if I don’t want to go bankrupt. Strawberries are good for a lot of other stuff, too. I can make jam and wine with them, which are both pretty profitable.”

“Are you going to grow anything else, or just strawberries?”

The Farmer shrugs and unlatches the south gate to their property. “I grow some things year-round in my greenhouse, but I think I’ll only plant strawberries in the fields, since they’re the most profitable.”

“How do you know?” Kent asks, genuinely curious. He doesn’t know shit about farming, truthfully.

“I’ve done the math,” they say, pulling a small notebook out of seemingly fucking nowhere. Kent glares at their jacket in confusion. “They’ve got the highest profit ratio, based on how much I drop on them at Pierre’s stand and how often they grow. Strawberry plants fruit every four days once they’re fully grown, so I can get the most out of them if I start them early.”

They hold out their notebook, flipped to a random page with a smattering of bullet points and notes in their handwriting. There’s a silly doodle of a strawberry at the top of the page, and Kent smiles fondly.

“You’ve got this shit down to a science, Farmer. I’m impressed.”

They snort, and their notebook practically dematerializes as they shove it into their jacket, but he doesn’t see a pocket—where on earth do they put it?

“Two years of fucking up and not planning ahead has taught me to think about the future a little more.” They shrug. “We’ll have to see if I can actually pull it off, though; planning ahead won’t mean anything if I can’t get the iridium ore for it.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine. You’ve still got two months left.”

“Two months goes by pretty quickly, though.” They sigh, and Kent watches as the lampposts in front of their house begin illuminating their face.

He swallows hard and averts his stare. He shrugs, forcing himself to be casual. “Well, between the both of us and a little luck, I think we’ll manage it just fine.”

They hum, and he catches their smile through his peripherals.

“Maybe.” The stairs on the Farmer’s porch creak under their weight as they step up to their front door, and Kent knows he has to say goodnight now, but as they go to pluck their keys out of their pocket, he grabs their wrist.

“I know I’ve been kinda pushy, but I want you to tell me honestly.” Kent knows without a shred of doubt that his fingers are nearly frozen against their skin. They look at him, chin angled down with their sudden height difference. He won’t go up their front steps to even it out, though. That’s a boundary he won’t cross, not unless they ask him to. “Is it really alright that I come with you tomorrow? I don’t want you to force yourself to be okay with it if you don’t actually want me there.”

The Farmer’s lips part, and he sees rather than hears their breath of surprise—a cloud of vapor in front of their face, glowing orange in their porch light.

“Why have you been so pushy?” They ask, and now it’s his turn to get ignored. “Why do you want to come with me so badly?”

Kent lets go of their wrist, and his palm burns. He doesn’t have it in him to lie. “Because I’m scared of what might happen to you if I don’t.”

They’re quiet for a long moment, recognition passing over their face, and Kent loves the fact that pity is never something he’ll have to see along with it. Not with the Farmer.

They walk forward, placing a sturdy hand on the banister as they lean in close. “I have one more question for you, Kent. Answer honestly, and I’ll let you come with me.” 

Kent nods stiffly, his eyes flicking everywhere but their own. “I’m great at honesty.”

They hum, and Kent watches, frozen solid as they glance at his lips. “Am I special to you?” 

He bites his lip, the back of his neck burning. “Yeah—yes. You are.”

They nod once, and then step away. Kent watches, a sudden panic thickening in his chest.

“Good.”

Wait, 'good?'

The Farmer unlocks their front door, and opens it wide. They turn around before stepping inside, and their smile is giddy. Kent’s panic subsides. He’s imagined rejection more times than he can count, and he’s pretty sure that’s not what it looks like. “I’ll see you at eight-fifty, okay? Don’t be late—I’d hate to have to leave my good-luck charm behind.”

“Cross my heart.” Kent nods, his own smile just as giddy. 

They close the door, just a bit. Their eyes twinkle. “Goodnight, Kent.” 

“G’night.” He waves, and the cold isn’t nipping at his fingers as much anymore.

When he collapses into bed that night, his skin is flushed and cold, and his heart is thumping erratically in his chest. His smile doesn’t subside, even as he falls asleep.

[violinist-rachel]

Dear Rachel? What is your outlook on life? What do you value most in your own life?

"My outlook on life?"

"Hmm...." "I suppose I believe in karma. I think all of our actions will eventually have consequences that'll one day catch up to us, no matter how hard we try to run away."

"Now, I'm not perfect by any means. Far from it. But during my time in this world, it's important to me that I try to do more good than harm in my life."

[allylikethecat]

omg more prompts!! would love to see matty holding hands with george while he’s stressed out about something and then maybe later laying his head in george’s lap🥺

HELLO THERE ANON,

You sent me this WONDERFUL intimacy prompt literally three months ago, BUT I finally did it, I finally filled it! Better late than never? Right? I want to apologize though for taking so long to get to it, and thank you so much for sending it in. I hope that you're still around to see the response! I ended up combining the two- I hope that was okay! Please let me know what you think! Additionally, if anyone else wants to send in any intimacy prompts, the list can be found here. I can't guarantee that it won't take me three months to finish the next one, but I promise that I *will* eventually. I really enjoy working on prompt fills and even if it takes me forever to actually sit down and write them, just know that I am in fact always thinking about them!

Thank you so much for requesting this prompt, your patience since I am the worst and it took me months, for reading, and for your continued support! I look forward to hearing what you think!

❤️Ally

WARNINGS: Reference to past drug abuse

Holding hands during a stressful situation & Resting your head on your partner's lap

Matty hated flying. He hated the drive to the airport. He hated that they were always, inevitably, caught in stop and go traffic that made his already nervous belly churn, nausea burning the back of his throat. He hated leaving his bag with the airline agent, the worry that it would get lost, that it would get stolen, that it wouldn’t make it to his final destination even as he obsessively tracked its air tagged location on his phone. He hated going through security and border control. He hated taking off his jacket, and shoving his backpack into the plastic bin. He hated the scrutiny of the security agents as they took in his tattoos and the scars on his arms. He was always, without fail, pulled for random, additional screening. He always tried to smile good naturedly, anxiety bubbling in his gut, even if he knew he wasn’t truly chosen at random, drug dogs sniffing his ankles as they swabbed his hands for explosives. At least he got to carry his own passport now, it was no longer in Jamie’s clutches as if he was going to run off to score the second he was left unattended. (He never had even considered fleeing an airport to score, however, he had considered fleeing an airport to run back to the flat he shared with George and hide under the covers of their bed.)

He hated making his way through the crowded terminal, people rushing around him, knocking into him, suffocating him as he tried to remember how to breathe. The straps of his backpack digging into his shoulder. He knew there would be a red mark on the skin when he sat it down, there always was. He loved their fans, he loved them more than anything, but he hated that he could feel their eyes on him as he moved through the airport, taking pictures of him with his eyes downcast, the brim of his baseball hat pulled low as if it would be able to fully hide his mop of curls. Only for the pictures to end up on Twitter moments later, which led to more eyes seeking his location. The braver ones would approach him and ask for a picture with him rather than just of him from a distance. He would force a smile, his arm stiffly around their shoulders as he tried to focus on his breathing, his palms sweating as every fiber of his being screamed danger and run. He hated that they always seemed to be assigned the gate furthest away from the main artery of the terminal. He hated that his anxiety meant he needed to lay eyes on the gate, that he needed to verify that it was real before he could wait with the rest of their group in the lounge. 

He hated that once he had dropped off his bag, and made it through security, and checked on his gate, that it was time to wait. Matty was not a patient person, he was even less patient when he was stressed, wanting things the way he wanted them right this instant. Demanding, George had called him one time with an amused smile and love shining in his eyes.

At this particular instant, he was both stressed and demanding, gripping George’s hand as if it was the only thing keeping him tethered to this earth as he dragged him through the crowded corridor towards their gate. He was more stressed than even his usual airport levels of airport anxiety. He hadn’t slept the night before, tossing and turning, worrying about the ten hour flight from LA to London they would be embarking on the next morning, popping piece after piece of nicotine gum as they inched towards departures in their rental van. They had played the last show of the tour the night before, and Matty was burnt out and ready to go home. Once at the airport, he had been, as usual, pulled for additional screening, the man that patted him down rough and inconsiderate. He had been stopped by a duo of fans less than five minutes later, forcing a smile as he tried to swallow down anxious tears threatening to spill. His heart was pounding in his chest, and his blood rushing in his ears as a man speaking loudly on the phone bumped into him, splashing him with iced coffee.

“You’re okay,” George soothed, giving Matty’s sweaty hand a comforting squeeze of his own, as the man turned away from them, glaring, as if they were the ones not watching where they were going. He swiped his thumb reassuringly against the back of Matty’s hand. 

“The gate is just up ahead,” George said, pointing with his free hand to B37. “We still have an hour ‘til boarding.” 

Matty nodded, wishing that seeing the gate with his own eyes would have loosened some of the tension in his chest, the way it usually did. George gave his hand another squeeze and Matty swallowed hard. George had calluses on his fingers and across his palm from years of playing the drums professionally, Matty loved that they slotted perfectly against his own guitarists calluses. Matty loved that George’s hands were so much bigger than his own, dwarfing his hand, his fingers wrapping fully around his own, engulfing them, protecting them from the outside world. He loved that even when he was shaking, even when his palms were disgustingly damp and sweaty, George never let go. He might have been the one clinging to George, but really, George was the one holding onto him. He closed his eyes, and tried to focus on the feel, on the weight of George’s hand, intertwined with his own. He could still feel his heart beating in his ears, but he no longer felt like he was going to drift away, like he was going to be pulled out to sea by the current and lost forever.

George pressed a gentle kiss to the side of Matty’s head. “Let's head up to the lounge, I would kill for a cup of coffee.” 

Matty let himself be led through the crowd, their hands connected as if George was the tugboat guiding Matty’s ship to shore. George showed their passes to the hostess and they were granted access, the rest of their group already sprawled out on the couches, bags at their feet, coffee in hand. Matty swallowed a yawn, he was exhausted, and knew that coffee would help, but he also knew he wouldn’t be able to stomach the acidic liquid at the moment.

Matty sat down on an open two seater. Matty hated that he had to let go of George’s hand as he made his way over to the coffee bar, pleased that they were reunited a moment later, a steaming paper cup in George’s hand. He dropped into the seat next to him and without thinking Matty found himself leaning over, not caring that technically they were in public, to rest his head in George’s lap. 

“I just want to go home,” Matty said softly as George tugged Matty’s hat off to run his fingers through the messy squashed curls. 

“Soon love,” said George, “we’ll be home soon.”

[twistedroseytoesy]

I've got it! How bout this:

Trey: Birthday by Katy Perry

Ruggie: Here comes trouble by Neoni or Bills by Lunchmoney Lewis

Jack: Live Forever by Hollywood Undead

Azul: Who's laughing now? by Ava Max or For your entertainment by Adam Lambert

Jade- Blackout by Aviva or The Show by Jake Daniels

Rook- Ghost by Confetti

Epel- Reckless Tongue by Airways or Bad Reputation by Joan Jett & the Blackhearts

Idia- Anxiety by blackbear

Sebek- High Hopes by Panic At The Disco

I hope these fit!

Hello again! glad to see you back with even more songs to pick from! If it's alright ima call you 🎵 anon! now onto the songs!

Trey- Fun song! could definitely see this as a birthday song that the Mc could sing to him, again not the biggest fan of the innuendos in the song but I can easily adjust them to be more wholesome! good choice! might try and write that closer to his birthday though, oh well.

Ruggie- Such an interesting song! As I listened to it I could envision this song as Ruggie is overblotting. when I first read the second book I thought h was going to overblot from how magic he used to cause the stampede, and he was pretty upset that Leona was just giving up after all his hard work. Maybe an alternate universe where he overblots rather than Leona. Amazing choice and great ruggie vibes!

Also, the second song is very fun and also fitting, but I loved the first one so much that I immediately set up a draft for that... Both are wonderful though!

Jack- Cool rock song! I can see it fitting a specific asset of him, but the Jack we see is fairly chill and cold, but soft to those he has respect for. Also a tsundere. A good song, but not quite how I envision him but its pretty close.

went searching myself for some songs that would fit jack and looked up a bunch of montage songs. found one I liked; John Cafferty - Hearts On Fire. Thought it was pretty fitting with his strong moral compass and burning passion.

Azul- YES! this is wonderful! good song! shows how he worked hard to overcome those that mocked and hurt him before. I'm loving the song. I can see some sort of dream sequence where Azul sings this cause he's proud of how far he has come. Despite still struggling at times, he's brought justice to his bullies. Might write an animatic as he watches his bullys suffer. Heck yes!

The second song doesn't fit azul that well, too many innuendos and such demanding lyrics... nice try.

Jade- Somewhat unsettling song, definitely fits his mysterious and scary side, but it just doesn't hit quite right. I don't know how I could change it either to fit better. It's so close just missing something.

Now the second song is perfect, I would need to change quite a few of the lyrics to fit him better, but the mysterious but knowing lyrics and deep beat in the background are perfect for him! Don't know if I could write this as a story, might just end up as a simple parody. Great choice!

Rook- Wonderful song choice! love the hints to how hes hard to find and how he can seemingly appear out of nowhere. Could write an animatic-style song with him appearing and watching from afar. nice job!

Epel- Some of the lyrics fit him and his intense hatred for certain topics. Somewhat fitting but I don't really feel the vibes from the sing itself, I could make it work but I'll look at the other song first.

Oh MY GOSH, that second song is so perfect for Epel! how he hates the way Vil tries to reform him, how likes his country accent and lifestyle. Can definitely write a thing where he's screaming this, might get in trouble with Vil and Rook later but he doesn't care at that moment. HECK YA!

Idia- Hate to say that this song is perfect for his insecure and introverted personality but that's exactly what I'm saying. Could write this when he and the prefect are friends, or could just make it so he's just anxious about all kinds of stuff. OR a better idea is that he's singing to ortho, he can't live without ortho. perfect fit.

Sebek- Amazing song, no idea that it was by panic at the disco! but not really fitting for the Sebek I know, then again I don't really know him other than he's loud and obsesses loves malleus. Too upbeat of a song but loving the idea.

[rafestify]

need a rafe fic please where reader is part of the pogues, her and rafe have been on and off for forever obviously due to everything he’s done but deep down he’s so down bad for reader and maybe she’s pregnant instead of sarah and he doesn’t find out until morocco because the pogues are hovering over her idk angst fluff whatever you feel!!!

Two lines — Rafe Cameron

Summary : Fem!Reader is pregnant with Rafe’s baby, but he doesn't know until pope accidentally mentions her baby (season 4 ep 10 spoilers!! ⚠️)

Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Warnings : mentions of vomiting & language (english is not my first language)

A/N : as requested 😉 hope u like it anon!

Two lines, and the father was long gone, off doing god knows what. Rafe was the last guy I'd hooked up with, and even after we broke up, we somehow kept finding our way back to each other, especially after the Kildare Enduro. He knew no one else could satisfy me the way he did, and so it became this endless cycle, break up, hook up, make up. What Rafe didn’t know was that I was pregnant. I hadn’t planned on telling him, at least not until we made up.

There I was, back on Rafe’s boat with my friends, setting off to Morocco in search of the Blue Crown and Chandler Groff. My friends had locked Rafe up, tying him up in a small room, just in case. We all knew better than to trust Rafe Cameron, not after everything he’d done.

I walked into the dimly lit room, carrying a tray with a glass of water, a plate of food, and a couple of aspirin for his black eye. The sight of him, bruised, tugged at something deep inside me.

“Here,” I murmured, setting the tray down on the table beside him. “I brought some aspirin, just in case you’re feeling dizzy or something…”

He snorted, cutting me off. “What? You’re just gonna throw it in my mouth like I’m a fuckin' seal?” He wasn’t exactly wrong, but his sharp tone made me bristle. “Nobody trusts you, Rafe,” I replied, my voice steady. “Not after what you did.”

His jaw tightened, and a flash of anger sparked in his eyes. “I saved your asses!” he shot back, his face flushing with frustration. “And not even a thank you was said.”

I took a slow breath, steadying myself. “I know, Rafe. I know,” I said softly. “Thank you, really.” I offered him a small, sincere smile.

He looked at me for a moment, his gaze softening just slightly. “You trust me, right?” he asked, his voice quieter, a bit more vulnerable. I bit down on my lip, feeling the pull he always seemed to have on me.

“Yeah,” I admitted, almost reluctantly. God, he knew exactly how to get to me.

He looked at the ropes binding his wrists and nodded toward them. “Then untie me. Get this shit off me.”

I shook my head, feeling a pang of guilt but holding my ground. “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I pressed my lips together, trying to keep my resolve. “Just… eat the food. We wouldn’t want you dying in here.” With that, I turned and walked out, the door closing softly behind me, leaving me with a sigh that I didn’t even realize I’d been holding back.

As I stepped out of the room, I was met by Kiara’s anxious expression, her arms folded tightly as she waited. The moment she saw me, her face softened slightly, though worry still flickered in her eyes.

"How’d it go?" she asked quietly, as if afraid to hear the answer.

I shrugged, trying to mask the mixture of emotions stirring inside me. "Same old Rafe," I replied, keeping my tone light, but my gaze drifted, unable to meet hers directly.

Kiara studied me for a moment before speaking again. "Soo... did you tell him?"

I frowned, genuinely puzzled. "Tell him what?"

She raised an eyebrow, giving me a pointed look. "That you’re pregnant, with his child."

Oh, right. That one.

I swallowed, feeling a sudden knot in my stomach. "Uh—no, not yet," I admitted, my voice barely a whisper. "I just… I don’t know how he’d react." My hands found each other, my fingers nervously fidgeting as I tried to imagine how that conversation would even go. "What if he doesn’t want to keep the baby?"

Kiara sighed softly and reached out, placing a reassuring hand on my shoulder. Her warmth grounded me, pulling me back from my spiraling thoughts. "Look," she said firmly, her gaze locking onto mine. "You have us. We’ll help you through every single part of this. That’s what friends are for, right?"

I looked at her, the tension in my chest easing slightly. Her words held a strength that I so desperately needed. "Yeah," I whispered, a small smile breaking through my worry. "Thank you, Kie."

She wrapped her arms around me, pulling me into a hug, and for a moment, the uncertainty and fear faded. In her embrace, I felt a flicker of hope—a reminder that I wouldn’t have to face this alone.

After battling fierce winds and waves, we finally arrived in Essaouira. The coastal city spread before us, its whitewashed buildings with blue shutters gleaming under softened storm light. Narrow streets twisted through the medina, lined with shops selling handmade crafts and drenched in a timeless, rustic charm.

The Atlantic crashed against the ancient medina walls, sturdy and weathered, while blue fishing boats bobbed in the harbor—just like the skiffs in the Outer Banks. The salty air and easy warmth of the locals, the slow rhythm of the sea, and the hum of daily life brought back memories of home, as if Essaouira was a Moroccan echo of the Outer Banks.

We continued to wander through the narrow streets of Essaouira, the sound of bustling market vendors and the distant call of seagulls filling the air. John B and Sarah led the way, their steps light and carefree, like they had no care in the world. Following behind them was Cleo, Pope, and Kiara, their conversations flowing easily as they walked, with JJ and I bringing up the rear. But it was Rafe who trailed behind, his presence almost ghostlike, like a lost puppy, following silently in our wake.

As we strolled through the maze of alleyways, I felt a sudden, sharp wave of nausea hit me. It was sudden, and intense, as if something in my stomach was threatening to rise up. I let out a soft huff, pressing my hand to my stomach, trying to hold back the overwhelming feeling of sickness.

JJ, who had been walking beside me, must've noticed the change in my posture because he looked at me with concern. "Y/N?" he called, his voice laced with worry.

"Oh god," I muttered under my breath, the nausea worsening, my head spinning.

"What's wrong? You okay?" JJ asked, his voice low, concern evident on his face.

I shook my head, barely able to focus on him. "No... I need to sit," I said, my voice strained. I felt like I was going to collapse if I didn’t stop moving.

JJ quickly guided me to a pile of carpets that were stacked outside a shop. The soft fabric felt like a relief under me as I sat down, trying to steady my breathing. The rest of the group quickly noticed, and soon I was surrounded by their concerned faces. Kiara dropped to her knees in front of me, her eyes searching mine, her hand resting on my knee in a comforting gesture.

"What's up? What are you feeling?" she asked, her voice soft and filled with genuine concern.

"I'm really nauseous," I managed to answer, my hand covering my mouth, just in case. I didn’t trust myself to hold it down any longer.

Cleo, who had been standing off to the side, stepped forward, her arms crossed over her chest. "She probably needs food. It’s been like two days..or what?" she said, her voice tinged with practicality.

"Yeah, the baby’s probably hungry too," Pope added, offering a casual shrug, as if it was just an obvious conclusion.

I froze, my stomach twisting. The mention of "the baby" caught me off guard, and suddenly, all eyes turned to me. Rafe, who had been hanging back, still distant, looked like he was suddenly paying attention. His gaze shifted from me to Pope and then back to me, his brow furrowing.

"What baby?" Rafe asked, his voice sharp, as if something about the situation didn't sit right with him.

Oh god, here we go.

Pope went silent, and I could feel the tension rise in the air, thickening around us. I glanced up at Rafe, who was now standing a few feet away, looking at me with an expression that was hard to read. His eyes narrowed as if trying to make sense of what he had just heard.

"No, seriously, what baby?" he repeated, his voice insistent, even stern now.

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. There was no easy way to say it, but it had to be said. "I’m pregnant, Rafe," I said quietly, locking eyes with him. "With your baby."

The words hung in the air between us, like they were too heavy to carry. For a long moment, Rafe didn’t say anything. He just stood there, silent, his expression unreadable. The others were watching him closely, waiting for a reaction, but he remained eerily still.

I could feel the tension growing, an awkwardness settling in the space around us, as if everything had just shifted. My hands were shaking slightly, not from the nausea anymore, but from the weight of what had just been revealed. And Rafe, he was just staring at me, his mouth slightly parted but no words coming out.

"Go get her something to eat," Rafe suddenly snapped, his voice cutting through the tension that still hung thick in the air.

Without another word, he dug through his small waist bag, the leather creaking under his movements. I wasn’t sure what he was looking for, but then, with a small grunt of satisfaction, he pulled out a wad of cash—several bills, all stacked neatly together. As he unfolded them, I saw that he had about $400 in his hand, a small fortune for street vendors in Essaouira.

"Wait what?" JJ’s voice broke the moment of disbelief. He raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "They don’t take dollars, you idiot—"

"I said go," Rafe interrupted sharply, his tone hardening. There was no room for argument, no sign of hesitation in his voice. It was almost as if he was trying to regain some control over the situation, and in doing so, he completely dismissed JJ’s protests. His words were a command, not a suggestion.

The rest of us exchanged uneasy glances, the shift in Rafe’s demeanor catching everyone off guard. But without further discussion, John B, Sarah, Cleo, Pope, and Kiara reluctantly turned to start walking back toward the market, their steps unsure but obedient. JJ hesitated for a moment, clearly frustrated by Rafe’s abruptness, but eventually followed along as well.

Rafe’s eyes lingered on me for a second, his expression unreadable. He stood still for a moment longer, his gaze momentarily drifting over to the group before returning to me. He didn’t say anything else. His words had been clear, and I could tell that something about the situation had shifted for him.

"I don’t care whether you want the baby or not, but I’m keeping them," I said, the words tumbling out before I could stop them. My heart pounded in my chest, the weight of my decision pressing down on me. The truth was, I had made up my mind. I had to keep the baby, and nothing anyone said or did would change that. Not even Rafe.

Rafe’s eyes widened at my declaration, and for a moment, he just stood there, staring at me, his face unreadable. Then, he kneeled down, and he let out a sharp breath. "Hey, hey, hey—who said I don’t want to keep the baby?" His voice was calm, but there was an underlying tension to it, as if my words had hit a nerve.

I blinked, caught off guard by his response. The words seemed to hang in the air for a moment, and I wasn’t sure what to say next. His eyes were fixed on me now, intense, searching. It felt like something was shifting between us, and I couldn’t quite wrap my head around it.

"We’ll take care of them," Rafe continued, his tone softening just a fraction. "I’ll be with you throughout the whole journey, Y/N. You’re not doing this alone." His voice held a kind of resolve, as if he had already decided, as if he was offering something that felt almost too good to be true.

For a split second, it felt like the world around me had stopped moving. The noise from the market faded into the background, and all I could hear was the steady beat of my own heart. The words he said felt surreal, like they were echoing in my head. "I’ll be with you, 'aight?"

I blinked again, almost feeling like I was in a dream, like I had slipped into some alternate reality where everything suddenly made sense. But when I looked at Rafe, his gaze never wavering from mine, I felt a wave of disbelief wash over me. It felt like a nap dream, a momentary illusion that would disappear when I woke up.

"What?" I said, my voice coming out in a whisper of disbelief. "Sorry—"

Rafe seemed unbothered by my shock. He placed his hands on my knees, his movements deliberate. "You heard me, Y/N." His words were firm, and there was no mistaking the sincerity in them.

For a long moment, neither of us spoke. The air between us was thick with unspoken thoughts, and I could feel the weight of what he had just said settle in my chest. It was almost too much to process. I had always expected Rafe to pull away, to make this harder for me. But here he was, standing before me with something I hadn’t expected, a promise. A promise to be there. A promise to face this together.

My mind spun, trying to make sense of it. I glanced away for a moment, as if hoping the world would shift and reveal the truth. But when I looked back at him, his expression hadn’t changed. He was still looking at me with those steady, unwavering eyes.

"You’re serious," I murmured more to myself than to him.

Rafe didn’t flinch. "Yeah," he said simply, as if there was nothing more to discuss, as if the decision had already been made. "I’ll be there for you. For us."

For the first time, I didn’t know what to say. My heart was still racing, but for a different reason now. There was a part of me that wanted to believe him, to hold on to this moment, to trust that things might actually be okay. But there was also a part of me that was terrified of what this all meant, of how my life was about to change in ways I couldn’t predict.

I stared at him in utter disbelief, barely able to process the reality unfolding before me. It felt like some kind of miracle. My vision began to blur as tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, the emotions welling up and spilling over, probably caused by the pregnancy hormones, but I couldn’t stop them. I tried to blink them away, but they only gathered faster, until a warm tear rolled down my cheek.

Rafe’s expression softened when he noticed, his gaze never leaving mine. He reached out and wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close in a way that felt so natural, so steady. He didn’t hesitate for a second, and his embrace was warm, reassuring, holding me together when I felt like I was on the edge of falling apart, and God, it felt good to be back in his arms.

His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back as he murmured, “We’re gonna be parents.” His voice was soft, filled with awe and disbelief, as if he was speaking the words for the first time and couldn’t quite believe them either.

I nodded against his chest, clutching onto him as tightly as I could. The weight of his words settled over us, the reality of what lay ahead, and as much as I wanted to be brave, I couldn’t shake the fear that started to consume my mind. I let out a shaky breath, my voice coming out in a whisper, “I’m scared, Rafe.” The words felt small, vulnerable, but they were the truth.

He pulled back just enough to look at me, his hands gently cupping my face as his thumbs brushed away the stray tears still slipping down my cheeks. “I know,” he said, his voice barely more than a whisper. “I am scared too.” There was a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes that mirrored my own, a glimmer of uncertainty about the unknown future that lay ahead.

“But we’re in this together,” he continued, his voice growing stronger, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was reassuring me. “I don’t have all the answers, and I don’t know what’s coming… but I’m not going anywhere.” He leaned down and rested his forehead against mine, closing the space between us. “I’ll be there every step of the way.”

His words washed over me, filling some hollow place I hadn’t realized was empty. In that moment, his presence felt like a lifeline, pulling me out of my fears, giving me a glimpse of something that felt almost like hope. The future was terrifying, yes, but it felt a little less daunting with him by my side.

I looked up at him, my voice steadying as I replied, “I’m glad it’s you.” And as I said the words, I realized just how much I meant them.

He offered me a small, crooked smile, a warmth in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. “We’re gonna figure this out together,” he promised. “One step at a time.”

I nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly. And in that moment, held in his arms, I felt a little less afraid.

Suddenly, as if on cue, the rest of the group appeared, each carrying an assortment of food and drinks. It was almost comical, watching them return all at once, each of them holding something different, John B with a handful of pita bread, Cleo balancing a bowl of yogurt, JJ carrying bottled water, and Sarah clutching a small bag of fruit, including a shiny red apple that she immediately extended toward me.

“Here,” Sarah said softly, her face easing with relief as she offered the apple. I took it gratefully, feeling the cool skin of the fruit in my hand, and took a tentative bite. The crisp, sweet flavor flooded my senses, soothing the nausea that had been twisting in my stomach. They watched with eager anticipation, and as they saw me begin to nibble, their worried expressions started to relax.

“Feeling better now?” Pope asked, his voice gentle but laced with concern as he studied my face.

I swallowed another bite and nodded, a smile creeping onto my face. “Yeah, yeah… thank you,” I replied, glancing at each of them.

They exchanged glances, visibly relieved, and a sense of warmth spread through me as I looked around at their familiar faces, each one showing their own brand of care. I realized then just how much I’d come to rely on them, not just as friends, but as family. I felt a comforting wave of gratitude for each of them, knowing they’d been there for me without question, supporting me in ways I hadn’t even thought possible.

As I took another sip of water, Rafe moved a little closer to me, his hand resting gently on my thigh. His touch was subtle, but the gesture was enough to let me know he was still there, holding his promise to stay by my side. There was something calming in his presence now, something steadying that I hadn’t noticed before.

The others began chatting among themselves, sharing their own stories of haggling with the vendors, laughing about who’d paid the most for what they’d brought. They were giving Rafe and me a moment, I realized, a chance to talk without the pogues’ attention fixed on us.

Rafe leaned down slightly, his face level with mine, his voice low and steady. “You really okay?” he asked, his hand still warm on my thigh.

I took a deep breath, the initial dizziness and nausea fading, leaving behind a feeling of clarity I hadn’t expected. “Yeah, I think so." I paused, looking up into his eyes.

He smiled, a soft, almost vulnerable expression, and for a moment, he seemed like a different Rafe—one who wasn’t weighed down by pride or bravado. “That's good” His voice was filled with a sincerity that softened something inside me. "Don't want our little one and her mommy to starve, do we?" He smiled making me let out a low chuckle.

In this quiet moment, I knew, deep down, that I wouldn’t want anyone else to be the father of my child. Everything just felt right. Despite all the chaos, the ups and downs, there was a steady comfort in knowing me and Rafe would face it together.

likes and reblogs are appreciated! 🐇

>゜))彡 taglist — @rafecamerons-national-anthem @ts1mp0ne @vheavxly @enjoymyloves @tv-girllover07 @husherstan @smthabsolutelyunhinged @multisection @onlyrealjoy @hoelesslyt @nina357

[tokkiwrites]

Hi happy holidays! Can you please do a Sergei kravinoff smut x innocent female virgin reader “babe in the woods” trope. Sergei is immediately fixated on reader and wants her to be his grude & mother of his children. He immediately marries and later takes her virginity. He hopes to impregnate her from their first time together. Ty!

thank you for this request, anon! and sorry it took so long to post. I've had it written, but it just took a while for me to get the smut part going. i hope you like it!

Sergei Kravinoff × F!Reader ♰ themes of stalking, obsessive Sergei, kidnapping, Kraven is a weirdo and needs to be locked up, i would say innocent reader but more so an unbothered reader kind of, she is just confused, forced marriage, themes of Stockholm syndrome, loss of virginity, fingering (reader receiving), afab reader, unprotected p in v, Sergei wants to get the reader pregnant.

The woods were quiet, save for the whisper of wind threading through the branches above. You loved this time of day when the sun filtered gold and green through the canopy, casting dappled patterns on the earth. It was your sanctuary, far from the clamor of town and the heavy, watchful eyes of others. Here, no one could accuse you of being strange, or sheltered, or too naive. You simply were.

The faint crack of a branch made you stop mid-step, your basket of wildflowers swinging lightly at your hip. “Hello?” You called, voice soft, hesitant. The forest had always been safe— or so it felt. until now, you had never had the need to question it.

He emerged from the shadows, and your breath caught. The man was massive. A towering figure, his broad shoulders draped in animal pelts and his chest bare save for the crisscrossing scars that marked him as something primal, dangerous. His face was angular, carved from stone, with piercing eyes that pinned you where you stood.

Sergei Kravinoff. The name would mean nothing to you, but to others, it struck fear—a hunter of men and beasts, a predator who bent the wilderness to his will. He did not speak at first. He only looked at you, as if you were some rare, delicate creature he had stumbled upon. The longer his eyes lingered, the hotter your cheeks burned.

“Who are you?” you asked, clutching the basket to your chest. His lips curved into a smile, though there was nothing warm in it. “I am Sergei,” he said, his voice low, thick with an accent you couldn’t place. “And you" he paused for a bit. " Should not wander alone in places like this. The world is not kind to lambs.” You blinked at him, confused. “Lambs?”

“You,” he clarified, taking a step closer. His sheer presence seemed to draw the air from your lungs. “Soft. Untouched. So trusting.” You took an instinctive step back, and his smile widened, as if he enjoyed your unease. “I—I’ve never seen you here before. Are you lost?”

“No,” he said simply, his eyes roaming over you with an intensity that made your skin prickle. “But perhaps I have found something worth staying for.”

It reeked of dangerㅡ death. yet you still came back.

Over the next week, you saw him again and again. Always in the woods, always watching. At first, you told yourself it was a coincidence. this strange man simply shared your love for the forest. But his presence became impossible to ignore. He never tried to speak much, yet his eyes seemed to devour you every time, as though he were committing every detail of your face to memory. You should have been afraid. You should have stopped going to the woods entirely. But something about him fascinated you. He was so unlike the boys in town, who stammered and avoided your gaze, intimidated by your quietness. Sergei was bold, unflinching. He seemed to look right through you, to the parts of yourself you didn’t even understand.

you little lamb.

“Why do you keep following me?” He tilted his head, his gaze softening though not entirely. “Because you are mine.” The bluntness of his words made your breath hitch. “I don’t even know you.”

“You will,” he said, stepping closer. He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, and though you should have flinched away, you didn’t. His touch was surprisingly gentle, reverent even, even if his rough fingers scratched your skin. “I have decided. You will be my bride.”

“Bride?” You echoed the word foreign and strange on your tongue. “But we’ve only just—” you laughed. surely it must be a joke. “You are meant for me, little lamb” he interrupted, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument. “I have hunted all my life, little one. I know when I have found my prize.” Suddenly, the world went dark.

maybe it was all just a bad and confusing dream. though his touch still lingered.

You woke in the morning to find yourself not in your small, familiar room. outside the window that overlooked the bed you were in, the forest. The air smelled of pine and smoke, and outside, the trees loomed tall and unyielding. Panic gripped you as you sat up, heart racing. “Where—” The door creaked open, and there he was, filling the frame with his imposing presence. “You are awake,” Sergei said, his tone calm, almost pleasedㅡ excited. He carried a tray with food: fresh berries, bread, and cheese. “Eat. Now."

“Where am I?” you demanded, your voice trembling. “Why did you—” He set the tray down, cutting you off with a look. “You are safe. That is all you need to know.”

“I am not! This isn’t right,” you said, tears pricking at your eyes. “You can’t just—”

“I can,” he said sharply, though his expression softened as he stepped closer. “I have waited long enough. You do not understand, but you will. I will take care of you. Protect you. You will want for nothing, my little one.”

You shook your head, backing away from him, but he caught your wrist with startling ease. His touch was firm, yet not cruel. “Do not fear me,” he murmured, his voice dropping to something almost tender. “I would never hurt you. You are too precious.”

Sergei did not wait long to make you his.

The days in the cabin blurred together, each one steeped in an odd rhythm. Sergei’s presence was constant, protective, and overwhelming. He would watch you eat, his sharp eyes softening whenever you complied. He brought you small gifts: wildflowers, trinkets carved from wood, pelts to keep you warm. He never let you wander far, always ensuring you were within sight. And though he never forced his touch upon you, you could feel the tension thrumming beneath the surface, like a predator waiting for the right moment to pounce.

In the evening, as the fire crackled and cast flickering shadows on the walls, Sergei sat across from you. He leaned forward, large hands resting on his knees. “It is time,” he said, his voice calm but unyielding. “Time?” you echoed, your throat dry. “For us to marry.” You stared at him, heart pounding. “I… I can’t. I don’t even know what you want from me. I—I never— You kidnapped me!”

“You were made for this,” he said, cutting you off. his eyes were setting you a-light, it made your skin prickle. “You think I do not see it? Your purity. Your innocence. You were meant to be a wife. My wife.” Tears burned in your eyes, but you blinked them away. “But I’m not— I need to marry someone I love!"

“You are ready,” he insisted, his tone softening only slightly. “I have waited long enough. It will be done."

And it was.

The ceremony was simple, ritualistic. Sergei had prepared everything. rings made from woven silver, a bearskin cloak to drape over your shoulders as a symbol of protection. There was no priest, no people, only the two of you and the forest as your witness. He spoke vows in a language you did not understand, his voice deep and reverent, as though he were offering you up to some ancient force. When it was your turn, your voice faltered, but under his watchful gaze, you repeated the words he taught you.

“You are mine,” he said at the end, taking your face in his hands. His eyes burned with possessive fire. “And I am yours.”

but every wolf gets hungry eventually.

When night fell, you found yourself sitting on the edge of the bed, your hands clutching the thick wool blanket. Sergei entered the room, his movements slow and deliberate. He had shed his usual pelts, his bare chest glowing in the firelight.

“You are trembling,” he said, his voice softer than you had ever heard it. He knelt in front of you, his massive frame now not so intimidating. “Are you afraid of me?” You couldn’t meet his eyes. "I don’t know... what you expect from me? What you w-want...”

“I expect you to trust me,” he said simply, his hand brushing against your cheek. “You are my wife now. It is my duty to show you what that means.” Your breath stopped as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over your forehead. “I will not hurt you,” he murmured, the warmth of his breath sending shivers down your spine. “But you are mine, little lamb. Every part of you.”

His lips met yours— soft at first, testing, as though he feared you might shatter like porcelain. But when you didn’t pull away, his kiss deepened, a low growl rumbling in his chest. His hands cradled your face, his touch reverent, almost worshipful.

“I have waited for this,” he said against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “Waited to claim what is mine.” You didn’t resist as he laid you down, his hands tracing over your trembling form. He was patient, guiding you gently, his touch surprisingly tender for someone so fierce. But his intent was clear.

oh, little lamb.

rugged hands make their way up and around your hips as his bearded face stays flush against your tender neck. he was ready to devour you. Sergei looked up into your eyes and for the first time you've seen him smile. and as if all of the things you felt caused you fears melted away, so did you into his embrace.

his lips meet yours, and it all finally made sense. you could feel the hunger, the will in him to give his all right here, right now. you wrapped around him like vines on a tree, his low growl of approval making you clench around nothing. it all felt so new, yet familiar, as if somehow, this wasn't the first time. the forest outside sung as your quiet moans filled the cabin. Sergei discards all of your clothes with ease, leaving you in nothing as you stayed splayed on the bed. the fur coverings under, pooled around your body, the moonlight dripped on you like dew in spring and you looked like a precious painting.

with no time to wait, sergei quickly gets naked. it wasn't the first time you saw him like this, but it was the first time you saw it. to say all that fear bubbled up into your stomach was an understatement. you gulped down as your glossy eyes looked at him up and down. "Spread your legs for me." it wasn’t a request, it was an order. and you obey. spreading your legs you give him a full view of you dripping cunt, and sergei throws his head back with a low groan. you finally speak up. "IㅡI am a...a virgin." it all seemed so silly to say now. "I know." he smiles in the corner of his mouth. "Smelled it on you the first time we met." and you whimper. "I will get you ready now." somehow, you knew what it meant. He kneels in front of you on the bed, pulling you so that you thighs are right over his, your puffy lips on full display. two of his digits make their way up to your mouth. "Suck." you comply.

after that was done, his calloused fingers make their way between your folds, gathering up the juices you've been dripping. You whimpered softly and Sergei shushed you, rubbing small circles on your plushy thigh with his other hand. He pushes one of his fingers inside, and you can feel it. It didn’t hurt, not yet, it was just strange and new. the second finger comes quick after and he starts pumping them, swirling them around as his lips made contact with your swollen bud. Your eyes jot open as this feeling washes over you, and you can't help but let your legs shake uncontrollably. The fire wave envelopes you whole before it comes to an agonizing stop. You open your eyes again and above you is Sergei, his shaft in his hand as he aligns it with your asking entrance. "If it hurts...yell. Scream as much as you want. Hurt me back. I am here to teach you."

and teach you he does. he pushes in slowly and the stretch is agonizing, the pain making all of your muscles tense. "It's alright, I'm here, little girl." you let out a sigh, the tears slipping past your lids when you open your eyes. the moon engulfed Sergei in It's beautiful light, his silhouette looking as if it was carved out perfectly. a couple of inches, then some more, and some moreㅡ until he is fully inside. you bite down on your tongue, but Sergei preps soft kisses along your jaw and you seem to forget about the pain. "You're doing so, so good. So good for me." he hums, taking in a big breath of your smell before he snaps his hips slowly. In a few seconds, the burn turned into a delicious feeling you couldn’t quite describe. And though it felt so new, your body fell in place right into Sergei’s touch, as if it were meant to be.

When he finally started to move faster, his groan was one of triumph, a sound that you know will echo in your ears long after. “You will give me childrenㅡ" he said, voice low and ragged as he moved inside of you. “Strong sons and daughters. Our legacy will begin tonight.”

your legs quiver around him, but he leaves no room for mercy. Above you, he looked just as a predator ready to swallow his pray whole. you weren't one to fight back, and you really didn't want to. you back stayed arched against the coverings of the bed, fingers clawing at his broad shoulders as he pumped into you. your tummy was churning, and your head was dizzyㅡ you were far gone, too drunk on the way he perfectly hit that spot with each thrust. "You were made for me, made to take meㅡ fuck, you are so beautiful." you whimper, feeling that fire wave starting to take over again. your velvet walls squeeze around him, causing him to growl. Sergei leans forward, propping one of your legs above his shoulder, the angle making you gasp for air. you look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. An animal. His eyes grew darker, lips crooked in a smile before he delivered his final blow.

you come undone right under his fingertips, writhing and shaking as small pleads fall from your lips. You can feel his seed deep within you, threatening to slip out around his cock that was still inside of you, pulsing. "Good girl."

he prays it sticks.

Sergei’s obsession with you only deepened—he barely let you out of his sight, his touch lingering whenever he could. Yet there was a softness in him, a desire to make you happy, even as he bent you to his will.

He began teaching you small things. how to tend the fire, how to skin an animal, how to defend yourself should a predator come. But you were never allowed to go far. “Why can’t I leave?” you asked one afternoon, your frustration bubbling over. Sergei turned to you, his eyes darkening. “Because the world is cruel, little one. It will devour you. You are too soft, too trusting. Here, you are safe.”

“Safe,” you repeated bitterly. His jaw clenched, and for a moment, you thought he might lash out. But instead, he cupped your face in his hands, his gaze softening. “I would rather you hate me than lose you.” you were beginning to see the truth of it. his love for you was consumin and obsessive, but it was real. He worshipped you, protected you, but at the cost of your freedom. And yet, part of you began to adapt. To find comfort in his arms, in the way he looked at you as though you were the only thing that mattered.

Perhaps you were.

[gyubakeries]

i am in neeedddd of some fluffy scoups fics, could you please write something about cheol🥹

𝘀𝗽𝗮-𝗱𝗮𝘆 | c.sc

a/n: hi anon! sorry it took so long to get to this request 😭 writing all this made me want to have a spa-day, but i'm way too busy for one right now oof. thank you for requesting, and i hope you like it!

word count: 1.6k contents: seungcheol x afab!reader , established relationship , reader is tired , tiiiiny bit of angst BUT ITS SUPER FLUFFY , cheol is the best bf , self-care , domestic fluff , cheol is a girl's girl and we love him for it <3 , love next door is mentioned bcs im currently watching it :P

cheolz 💗 (19:59 p.m.) :

hi baby <3

when will u be reaching home 2night?

you (20:08 p.m.) :

outside front door rn

can u plz open up

read (20:08 p.m.)

—

the door swings open, and seungcheol's worried eyes take in your current condition. your work bag, slung from your shoulder, is weighing you down, making you slump forward. your eyes are red and watery. your skin looks pale, and you let out a sigh that makes seungcheol's heart ache.

"bad day?" seungcheol asks, and you nod weakly, left with no energy to even give him a verbal answer.

"c'mere love," he frowns, opening up his arms. you fall into his embrace, all the tension in your muscles melting away the second seungcheol tightly wraps you up in his arms. the feeling of being comforted feels so overwhelming that you can't help but let a few tears escape.

"i feel like shit," you mumble, your voice hoarse from crying in the car while you drove home from work. "i've failed at everything."

"i don't want to hear any of that," seungcheol shakes his head, holding you closer. "let me make you feel better, okay?"

you sigh again, pulling back slightly to look at your boyfriend. "i'm not in the mood for sex now, cheol."

"silly baby," seungcheol laughs, brushing his nose against yours. "i didn't mean sex. i thought i could help you unwind with your very own, made-at-home, spa-day!"

your eyes well with tears at how thoughtful your boyfriend is. seungcheol is quick to wipe the tears away, playfully scolding you. "no more crying. let's take the weekend to reset and start the next week afresh, hm? come on, i've got a lot planned."

your boyfriend slides your work bag off your shoulder and guides you into the apartment. he sets the bag down on the kitchen counter and comes back to kneel in front of you, helping you take off your heels. you sigh when your feet fall flat on the ground, tired from having to wear high heels the entire day.

"better?" seungcheol smiles, looking up at you, and you nod, feeling a little bit of energy seep back into you just by looking into seungcheol's eyes.

"good," your boyfriend says, getting up from the floor. "i've got to go check on the bath, so why don't you pick out some comfy clothes to wear, and then we can proceed?"

"okay, cheol," you agree, pressing a peck to his lips. his face lights up and he goes to the bathroom with a skip in his step. the exhaustion you had felt earlier was slowly getting replaced with the calming and healing presence of seungcheol.

your boyfriend really knew how to make you feel better.

—

you lay out your clothes on the bed. after a lot of thinking, you went with a hoodie (seungcheol's hoodie from college) and some baggy sweatpants. just as you were contemplating flopping onto the bed, a gentle touch on your shoulder makes you turn around.

"hey, your bubble bath is ready," seungcheol informs, and you realize that the entire spa-day idea was actually planned out well in advance.

"did you put in-"

"your favorite salted caramel-scented bath bomb? of course, baby. did you think i was a monster?" seungcheol gasps dramatically, making you laugh and hit his arm weakly.

"alright, i get it, you're obsessed with me," you roll your eyes, but you let seungcheol shrug off your blazer, unbuckle your belt and take off all your jewelry.

"yes, i am," seungcheol agrees, the genuinity in his voice knocking the air out of your lungs. you'd been dating him for seven years, ever since freshman year in college, yet sometimes his sincere love for you still surprised you.

the end of his lips tug into a smile at your silence, and he puts your jewelry away on your dressing table. "let's head into the bathroom," he instructs, and you follow him.

seungcheol stands in one corner of the bathroom, watching you as you take your clothes off and dump them in the laundry hamper. there isn't any heat behind his gaze, just the need to make sure you're taken care of.

"you gonna join?" you ask him, tugging your hair free from the bun you had put it in.

"i already showered earlier," he shakes his head. "i will be here though, to help with anything else you want."

"thank you," you smile shyly, getting into the filled bathtub slowly to make sure it doesn't overflow. the water was the perfect temperature, not too hot but not lukewarm either; just the perfect heat to make your body relax after a long day.

the scent of your favorite bath bomb envelops you, and lean back against the edge of the tub and close your eyes, letting out a content sigh.

after a few minutes of silence, seungcheol speaks up gently, now sitting cross-legged next to the tub. "did you wanna wash your hair?"

you blearily blink your eyes open, nodding. just as you're about to reach out for the shampoo bottle, seungcheol beats you to it.

"relax, let me do it for you."

you lean back again and watch seungcheol take some of the product on his palm and then kneel next to you. he lathers up the shampoo and then works it into your hair.

his touch is soft, yet firm. he massages your scalp with the shampoo, and as if taken away magically, the headache you had earlier vanishes. your eyes drop shut as seungcheol washes your hair.

you're sure you dozed off in the bath for a while, because you don't remember him rinsing the shampoo out, gently scrubbing your body clean, or drying you off with your towel.

you only wake up when he nudges you awake. "skincare time, baby."

you offer him a sleepy smile and a kiss to his cheek. you were dedicated to following your skincare routine daily, and you were glad that your boyfriend also gave it the same priority.

seungcheol gets you the clothes you put on the bed and you slip into them, the soft fabric of the hoodie engulfing you in warmth. you wrap your wet hair up in a towel and get to your skincare.

seungcheol stands beside you, a hand on your hip rubbing circles into the skin as he watches you apply various products on your face. you've explained all the various steps in your routine many times to him, but he can't keep a track of which is the toner, which is the serum and which is the cream.

once you were finally done, seungcheol walks you out of the bathroom with his hands on your shoulders.

"for dinner i got you take-out from your favorite chinese place," seungcheol says, seating you down at the dining table. "i haven't perfected my cooking skills yet."

"this is more than enough, cheol," you laugh, watching as he makes himself busy with warming up the food and bringing it to the table. "this is perfect."

"anything for my sweet girl," seungcheol winks flirtatiously, setting down a plate in front of you. "eat up, you need your energy. or else you're gonna be waking up like a hungry zombie tomorrow."

pretending to be offended at his words, you lightly kick his foot under the table. he responds by holding your free hand in his above the table as you both eat dinner in comfortable silence.

you're glad he doesn't ask you about work or what caused you to be this dejected earlier, because you frankly didn't have the energy to deal with all the emotions you felt earlier. knowing seungcheol, he'd probably whine and pout till you opened up to him later, so you put the sad thoughts away and focus on the moment.

—

you thought the night would wrap up with the meal. you felt far more happy than how you felt when you came home earlier, all thanks to seungcheol's efforts, but apparently, dinner wasn't the end.

after dinner, seungcheol loads the dishes in the washer, and then picks you up to take you to the bedroom. he props you up against the pillows and drapes the comforter over you.

"the new episode of love next door is up, you wanna watch?" seungcheol asks, grabbing the TV remote and getting under the covers next to you. the one thing you loved about your home with seungcheol was the TV in the bedroom, for the days either of you couldn't be bothered to go out to use the one in the living room.

"yeah, i need to know what happens next," you nod, a smile breaking across your face. seungcheol gives you a dimpled smile of his own and puts on the new episode of the series you both were heavily invested in.

as the intro started playing, you snuggle closer to seungcheol. as if on instinct, he outstretches his arm for you to use as a pillow, and you wrap your arm around his waist. your legs tangle together and you rest your head on his chest, breathing in his cologne.

"thank you so much, cheol," you murmur against his chest. "you helped me a lot today. if you weren't there-"

"we don't need to think about that," seungcheol shushes you. "no matter what, i'd always be there for you. which is also why you don't need to thank me. i do it because i love you."

"i love you too," you reply, looking up at him. you're met with his loving gaze; the gaze that heals you from the inside out, easing all your worries and filling you with hopes for a better tomorrow.

a tomorrow with seungcheol by your side.

you lean in to kiss him sweetly, and he complies easily, holding you impossibly closer to him. just as you break away, a character on screen starts yelling, startling the both of you and making you burst into laughter.

the long, weary day finally ends with you safe and secure in seungcheol's arms.

you wouldn't have it any way else.

- fin.

taglist: @tychebaby @min-imum @sousydive @livelaughloveseventeen

fill this form to be added to the taglist <3

head to the masterlist for more!

[mustangbby]

WE NEED THE COMFORTT FOR THE BLIND READER FUN YOU CAN’T LEAVE US HANGING LIKE THIS?????? (can’t do angst no comfort 😔)

-> blinded mistakes - happy ending

synopsis -> your husband feels bad for the way he snapped the other day. how does he make it up to you?

a/n -> approximately 28 people have asked for a part 2. this is insane i have so many people to tag (who aren't anons, obviously) BUT THANKS FOR ALL THE LOVE ON MY OTHER ONE OMGGGGG!!!! i love u all sm

warnings -> crying, but that's kinda all lol. this ones mostly just fluff!

w/c -> 951

-> kamisato ayato

it’s been a few days since the argument. 

ayato had been given an extension due to his circumstances, and didn’t have to worry about the ruined papers due to the kindness from the city's higher-ups who assigned him such papers in the first place. a lot of them were salvageable, too.

once he finished them, he leaned back, smiling from the stress relief. he got up, grabbed a cup of tea from the kitchen, and realized something.

you weren’t in the main room, waiting for him to leave his office so you two could spend some time together.

he then thought back about the events that took place. his chest immediately fills with regret at the words spoken to you. coincidentally, ayaka walked into the room.

“ayaka, have you seen y/n?” he hurried to his sister, who simply sighed.

“they’ve been in their room. they’ve been beating themselves up about the incident, so now they’re afriad of moving incase they bother you more,” she brushed past him. “good luck making amends. they’re incredibly hurt.”

he nodded, processing the information. he pacewalked to your shared bedroom, where he opened the door to see your sleeping form. 

he sat next to you, stroking your hair until you woke up. when you felt a hand on top of your head, you flinched a little bit.

“who’s there?” you said in a soft voice, unwilling to cause more issues by lashing out or showing aggression. 

“ayato,” he took his hand off your head. “i’ve come to say i’m sorry.”

you got up and found the headboard, slowly resting yourself up on it. “why all of the sudden? i hope you understand that you really hurt me, ayato. i’ve been too scared to get up these last few days because of the way you made me feel. the only times i’ve gotten up were to go to the restroom, bathe, and eat, but thoma would bring me something here. i still think about the words you said and your gestures.”

he looked down, sighing. he didn’t realize how much of an effect his words and actions had on you, but now that he’s hearing it from you, it seems like two more tons added to his shoulders. “don’t worry about it. it was salvageable, and you hadn’t ruined anything.”

“i wish you told me that when it happened, ayato,” you started to tear up. “i forgive you, but i don’t want to hear that again. it made me feel like shit.”

he nodded, hugging you tight, letting you cry into his shoulder. you felt around his body to realize he was wearing his white and blue suit, the one he usually goes out to fight in. 

“i’m not ruining this suit, right…?” you brought your face off his shoulder, but he immediately shoved it back in the same spot, silently telling you the obvious answer. 

he was glad he was able to resolve things. he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

-> wriothesley

it’s been about a week since wriothesley has seen you. he figured you went out of the fortress, staying over at a hotel or with a friend, like navia or chlorinde. he pretty much figured it would be chlorinde, considering she hasn’t come down to the fortress or has tried to initiate contact with him since the incident. 

he figured he’d try knocking on both doors, starting with navia. once navia told him everything he needed to know; that you were with chlorinde, he rushed over to her place.

“what are you doing here?” she scoffs as she opened the door, leaning against the doorframe. “your wife told me everything. i hope to trust that you didn’t embarrass her in front of the people who work for the palais mermonia, especially monsieur neuvillette himself.”

he shook his head, rubbing at his temples. “just let me see her, would you? i want to apologize.”

she nodded, clearing the doorway, allowing him to rush into the spare bedroom. 

you knew he was the one coming towards your room, considering his footsteps were a lot heavier than anyone you’ve ever known. his were tough, threatening. 

“wriothesley! w-what are you-” you started, your heart beating a little faster.

“i want to apologize for the things i said. i didn’t have to completely redo all my papers, and neuvillette understood the situation, and i was able to get an extent.”

you shook your head. “so you embarrassed me then, huh? you told them everything? that your stupid blind wife who is not even near good enough for you ruined your work?” 

he was speechless. he didn’t know how to respond to that sentence, so he put his hands on your shoulders, asking for silent permission to take you into a hug. once you nodded, he embraced you tightly. 

“no, i didn’t tell them that. i told him it was just a spill, and that i was able to save some of the papers. neuvillette is a very understanding man, and this never happens. i never need new copies or need extents, so he was willing to do it this time. nothing about you came up in our conversation,” he swallowed a lump in his throat before going on. “and you’re not stupid. you’re also the perfect choice for me, not good enough my ass. no matter what i have to do to make you see that, just because you have a disability doesn’t mean you’re unworthy.”

you started to cry, letting the tears spill into his chest, creating a damp spot on his tie. 

“so you don’t hate me then?” you sniffed.

“no, not at all. i couldn’t bring myself to hate you for something as dumb as that.”

[melverie]

on a scale of 1 to satan how bbg is mephisto

Satan has had far more time to establish his place as the ultimate babygirl (to me at least), so I can't give Mephisto the honor of being anywhere near his level but man the devs are making sure that he's at least getting close

I mean he

is the local horsegirl

apparently has a massive sweet tooth

stakes his entire self-worth on being useful to the future ruler of the land

seems to be great with kids

is super diligent. Just look at how much effort he is putting into journalism despite absolutely having no interest in pursuing that field in the future

is an honorary member of the Anti-Lucifer League, yet refuses to spread any false information about him in the school newspaper and mostly ends up singing his praises instead

runs said newspaper (and as someone who did the same for a year, I respect that a lot)

isn't really all that interested in MC, which is a nice change of pace

and finally, seems to dye his hair purple which makes him look like an eggplant <3

Also when he saved MC from falling on the ground and then brushed it off afterwards because he "only did what anyone would have done" back in season 4? That part was so good

ALSO Solmare could easily give him the perfect blushing face. Just look at him

[runnning-outof-time]

Hi! For the celebration, how about… “Do you know you’re bleeding?” with Tommy.

Maybe a more light hearted protective Tommy situation <3

Hi there, anon! Thanks for sending this in! I’m sorry it took a little bit for me to get to. I love me some protective Tommy! I hope you like what I did with the prompt. Enjoy! :)

I’D LOVE TO KNOW WHAT YOU THINK! - YOUR COMMENTS & REBLOGS HELP ME WRITE!

Part of my 3.5k Celebration — find more stories here!

An Unfortunate Accident

Tommy Shelby x Reader

Warnings: language, blood

Word Count: 601

Summary: When Tommy finds (Y/N) injured after something silly happened to her, he immediately thinks the worst.

“Shit,” (Y/N) hissed as she quickly cradled her hand against her chest. She gritted her teeth as a surge of pain quickly shot down her arm. “Shit, shit, shit!”

She looked around the kitchen. There has to be something I can use to cover this, she thought to herself as the pain grew stronger. Footsteps sounded off the hardwood just as she managed to grab one of the dish towels sitting on the counter. A quick spin to face the archway told her that Tommy had entered the room. Shit.

“Hi, Tommy,” she tried to sound as nonchalant as possible as she greeted her husband. Her both hands were now hdiden behind her back, and she was placing as much pressure on her injury as possible. “You’re home early,” she commented sheepishly.

“Not really,” he answered, his brows furrowing slightly as he took in the sight of her. “What’s happened?” he asked her then, closing the gap between them as worry seeped into his features. Between her frazzled state and how things looked, his mind was starting to create several scenarios.

“What?” her question came out like a breath, her heart hammering in her chest.

“Do you know you’re bleeding?” he asked.

“I’m not,” she dismissed him, speaking a little too quickly for her liking.

“You are. It’s all over your dress, love,” he answered, motioning to the article of clothing. (Y/N) quickly looked down to see that the front of her dress was indeed stained crimson. A sigh left her lips. “So tell me the truth. What happened?” he asked again, his voice level, his tone one that she couldn’t argue with.

“You’re going to laugh,” she sighed, her sheepishness returning.

“I’m not,” he assured her with a slight shake of his head, his eyes still focused on her.

(Y/N) held his gaze for a few moments, still weighing it all out in her mind. Tommy kept his eyes on her, his eyebrows raising after a few seconds of silence had passed - his nonverbal way of saying ‘I’m waiting’.

One more sigh escaped her lips before she finally brought her (now blood-stained) cloth-covered hand back into view. “I, uh…I was chopping some of the vegetables, and a bird flew into the window. The bang it made scared me and my hand slipped. I sliced my finger pretty good.”

“A bird?” Tommy questioned, incredulousness seeping into his words. His eyes left hers, albeit for a moment, to glance out the window…as if said bird was still going to be hovering there.

“Yes, a bloody bird,” (Y/N) answered, a dire earnestness present in her voice. She watched her husband’s face carefully, waiting for what she knew would becoming. The second she saw his lips twitch, she jumped on him. “You said you weren’t going to laugh!” she exclaimed.

“I’m not laughing!” he defended himself, although he couldn’t help but let a few chuckles out. This made (Y/N) glare at him, and she smacked him on the chest without thinking.

“Ow! Fuck. Tommy!” she exclaimed, her eyes wide with pain.

“Didn’t quite think that one through, eh?” he questioned with a chuckle. (Y/N) couldn’t even be mad at him…he was right. “Lemme see it,” he said then, coaxing her to show him her injured hand.

It took a few moments, but she showed it to him. “It’s bad, isn’t it?” she asked, cringing at the sight of it.

“I’ve seen worse,” he answered, glancing up at her to send a smile before focusing on her hand again, “let’s get it cleaned up.”

*tags in reblog so that hopefully they get sent out.

MASTERLIST

[deanstead]

Marry That Girl

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Word Count: 600+

Tags/Warnings: none

A/N: Short one because I haven't released something for Jay in way too long! This has been sitting in my WIP drafts for the longest time so I finally got it written! An anon requested something similar for Will but since I had a half-written fic, I finished this and posting this instead! As always thanks to bestie @seatsbythepit for being my beta queen~!

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You hadn’t thought this through.

It sounded like an innocent enough date when Jay had asked if you wanted to go watch the game. You hadn't been dating for long, and every day felt a little unreal in a ‘I can’t believe Jay Halstead wants to go out with me’ kind of way, and you appreciated every opportunity you got to spend with Jay especially since you never knew if he would have to go undercover or spend nights at the district trying to clear a case.

But now that the game was approaching, you were in a bit of a panic.

You enjoyed watching a game, but you didn’t always know what you were watching or doing, and you weren’t sure you were ready to let Jay see that side of you.

“Y/N, everything okay?” Kelly’s voice interrupted your internalized panic and you glanced up.

“Ah, I should have thought of you!” You proclaimed, earning yourself an eyebrow raise from the squad lieutenant. “I need your help.”

Kelly raised an eyebrow but chuckled before nodding toward his office.

You thanked all the stars that it was a quieter shift. After all, an entirely quiet shift didn’t exist at Firehouse 51. But at least that’s the way you liked it.

Kelly gave you a crash course, but not without reminding you that you owed him one. You spent the rest of the downtime studying it so that at least you’d have something smart to say, even though there were a few times you wondered what the hell you were doing.

Hard work indeed paid off.

You walked out of the game, feeling a little embarrassed as Jay’s friends gushed over you.

“Jay, you got a good one. My girlfriend doesn’t even want to come to games with me.” One of his buddies quipped.

Jay laughed, putting an arm around you and grinning. “Hey, should I be worried? What if you guys just call her for the games instead?”

The laughter rumbled through the group as they all nodded, teasing Jay that they’d rather call you instead of him in the future.

You really did owe Kelly one.

As his friends dispersed, calling that Jay had better bring you out for the next game, Jay’s phone rang.

You nodded at him, telling him he’d better take it, assuring him that you and Will wouldn’t leave him behind.

Jay took the call from Voight, glancing toward where you and Will were talking as he nodded. “Yeah, I got it. I’ll be right in.”

Jay could feel the dread in his gut, that felt just a little too much like guilt that he had to blow off again tonight even though he’d promised a nice after-game dinner and maybe some drinks and cuddling.

“This is why you don’t promise anything, Jay.” He mumbled to himself, before he walked back toward the both of you.

“Hey, Y/N, I…”

You glanced at the look on Jay’s face and just smiled. “Gotcha.”

“Sorry.” Jay couldn’t even say anything more because everything else in his head sounded like an excuse.

“I’m not saying I’m not disappointed, because I kinda am. But I get it. And if these were bells going off for the ambulance, I’d do the same thing you’re doing now. So, go.” You paused. “But you owe me a mind-blowing date.”

Jay laughed and nodded. “That, I definitely do.”

You shot him a huge smile and headed off toward Jay’s truck to wait because you knew he’d at least take you home before heading back down to wherever he was supposed to go.

Will watched the exchange with a mix of amusement and awe before he glanced at his younger brother.

“Jay?” Will called, before Jay and him headed off in different directions.

Jay glanced up at Will and Will smiled. “You better marry that girl.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

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[russellsppttemplates]

The “she’s busy” prank with lando cuz i reckon it would be funny😭

link to trend- https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGemP92BS/

Note: thank you for attaching a link, anon, you know me and my lack of knowledge of TikTok way too well 😭 I have seen a few posts too, so hopefully it's good enough!

Lando left the track he did his run of the day on, preferring to do it there instead of running in the city like usual. He was thinking you could have some takeout at home, getting his phone from his pocket to ask you what you were fancying.

Hey baby, just finished my run and I thought we could have some takeout! Is there anything tickling your fancy?

Lando sipped some of the water he brought with him as he waited for your reply.

Bro, she's busy

That was weird, who would have your phone? He didn't recall you mentioning someone visiting and he knew you were staying home.

What do you mean? Y/N, are you okay?

I just told you she's busy

That wasn't usual, and Lando was starting to worry

Who is this?

Put Y/N on the phone, please, give it to her

No can do, I told you we're busy

Doing what?

That sounds like none of your business, mate

Lando tried calling you but the call was instantly declined.

That's it, I'm coming home

Lando sent the text and started his car, driving home as he heard a few messages getting through but being wise enough to not text while driving. A call came through as he stopped at a red light, accepting it with the button on his steering wheel, "baby, Y/N, are you okay?", he spoke as he heard wheezing and laughs on the other side of the call, "is everything okay? I'll be home in about five minutes, okay?".

"I'm sorry, baby", you breathed out, "Max and P wanted me to try it! I'm sorry, my love", you explained as your boyfriend's bestfriend took your phone.

"Pietra saw it on TikTok on our way here to surprise you and she knew you'd fall for it", he explained as Lando groaned, "it was funny though!".

"I was worried sick, you asshole!", Lando yelled, "I left my girlfriend at home and changed my usual run routine and I thought someone had broken in!", he said.

"Usually people think they're being cheated on", Pietra chirped in. Lando shook his head and scoffed even though they couldn't see him, "Y/N wouldn't cheat on me", he said confidently. It had been the first thing you promised eachother and you both took it seriously.

"So you thought someone was kidnapping me? And you were coming to get me and save me?", you cooed, "of course I would, baby! I'm parking the car, I'll be up in a bit", he dialled off the call.

Opening the door for him, you jumped in his arms and his your face in his neck, "you'd come to save and protect me?", you cooed again, kissing his face everywhere in hopes he would forgive you, "of course I would, I knock the guy right out", he flexed his muscles.

Max laughed as Lando closed the door with his foot and walked to the living room to meet them, "first you come here unannounced, then proceed to prank e through my girlfriend and you're laughing about my fighting abilities? It sounds like you really want to be offered to sleep in the balcony", Lando tsked, "you wouldn't", Max groaned, "I wouldn't, but it would be good considering what happened", Lando reasoned before kissing your neck when you nuzzled your face in his neck, "also, someone needs to order the takeout now, so I think that's punishment enough".

(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)

[whore4gwen]

Can I request a Smut with Alcina and reader where reader was actually sent to eliminate Alcina but then Alcina kinda like catches and hate fucks her? Only consensual ofc but something akin to enemies to lovers?

🐰-anon

𝙏𝙝𝙞𝙧𝙨𝙩𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧 𝙨𝙤𝙢𝙚𝙩𝙝𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙗𝙡𝙤𝙤𝙙･ﾟ･｡

A/N: I LOVE this idea omg?? I’m so incredibly sorry for how long it actually took me to write this. With my classes starting up again, I’ve been so overwhelmed and busy.

This may not be exactly what you had in mind, but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless!!

Tags: Enemies to lovers dynamic, talks of death & torture, teasing, blood, fear play (?), praise kink, submissive/ dominant dynamics, top Alcina, bottom reader, unwanted yearning, delusions, fingering, degradation if you squint, hand riding, daddy Alcina vibes, ambiguous ending, I think that’s it lmk if I missed any!!

Word count: 2.4K

I apologize for any grammar mistakes, as of current it’s unedited, but I’m so tired so I’ll do it later tomorrow.

———————————————————————-

You had one mission. One seemingly normal, manageable mission.

All you needed to do was observe her, and gather as much information as you could about her.

Alcina Dimitrescu.

That name did wonders. It almost excited you as much as it infuriated you. The damn nerve of that woman was what drove you so impossibly close to the edge.

Her heated gaze burnt into the back of your mind. Gold ripples clouds your vision.

You didn’t have time for this. Any of it really. Chris, along with several other BSSA members would be there any day to take them out. Every monstrosity they call ‘family’.

In the four short weeks at Castle Dimitrescu, you unintentionally became Alcina’s head maiden.

How you managed to accomplish that was beyond you. It did make you wonder. You hadn’t exactly done anything in particular to acquire such a position from the mistress of the castle. Your mind buzzed with possibilities. Was she onto you? No. Of course she wasn’t, she couldn’t be, could she?

With shaky hands, you took a deep breath trying to further compose yourself. The portable tray in your hands suddenly feels like a ton of bricks.

The lady was expecting her afternoon tea and isn’t too keen on waiting. Her patience grew weary by the moment.

Slowly you brought your right hand and gently knocked on the brooding wood that distinguishes right from wrong, safe and dangerous.

A muffled “Come in,” filled the unorthodox silence. Leisurely you opened the door, making sure to keep your eyes lowered as you approached the ornate vanity, and set down the tray.

Lady Dimitrescu’s predatory gaze burned holes as she watched you intently. Seemingly lost in her trance, she doesn’t realize when you’re standing right in front of her, tea cup in hand.

“Lady Dimitrescu?” you said questioningly, curious where her mind might be.

“Yes, sorry, dear. Thank you.” She replies quickly, taking the seemingly hand painted tea cup. A faint metallic smell infiltrated the small space between you. It was no secret what the lady of the castle preferred in her afternoon tea. Regardless, a shiver ran down your spine at the mere thought of who that could be.

“Is that all my lady?” You asked as you made your way back to the vanity to retrieve the silver tray.

“Actually, there is something I wanted to discuss with you.” She said slowly. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

As if you even have a choice in the matter. Alcina Dimitrescu, always playing with her food. Utterly ridiculous.

“Something makes me think it’s not really up for debate, is it?” You ask knowingly, growing a bit bold.

“Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She responds teasingly, while smirking. Vague as ever.

Even though she’s a ruthless vile woman, whos committed several dozen atrocities, you have to admit, she’s painfully attractive

Beauty and confidence radiate off her, making her all the more alluring. The air around her is absolutely intoxicating. You know it’s wrong, but you just can’t help yourself.

Tirelessly, you try to derail your mind that convinces you, you need more, that you need her..

Each and every humaneless act she’s committed plays before your eyes, yet the image of a broken woman stuck in her own mortality alway wins.

“Well, I hope I can acquire whatever you desire to know.” You reply plainly.

She eyes you almost cautiously. Observing you shamelessly. Her heated gaze makes you all too aware of the situation you’re in. The danger, the unknown, the claws of a monster.

Red paints your vision. For a moment, you feel you might just lose consciousness. A terrible feeling churning in your gut. This could go one of two ways. Either you talk and she miraculously lets you go or you talk and she uses your blood as wall decorum. One option seeming more likely than the other.

“Oh don’t play coy with me, darling. I have a brain, you know.” She says suddenly breaking the silence. “I must admit though, you do have a good facade. Dare I even say, you almost fooled me.”

Option two then.

Your heart beated rapidly at the confrontation. A dull ringing sounded in your ears. This is as close to death as you ever want to get. If you make it out alive, Chris will never hear the end of this.

You opened your mouth to speak, but just as fast as it opened, it shut. You were genuinely at a loss of words. She’s a clever woman, sure, but how did she know? Or even better, how long has she known? And if awhile, why hasn’t she sent you to the cellar?

Your impending doom hung above your head as your mind scrambled to find any sort of excuse, or anything really to get yourself out of this situation, with all your limbs intact.

“Don’t go all shy now, pet.” Lady Dimitrescu says as she leans closer, filling the gap between the two of you.

Pet? Your brain nearly short circuited at the nickname. “I.. I..” You mumbled lamley, still trying to formulate a coherent sentence. Unfortunately, there really wasn’t anything you could say or do to protect yourself. All you could do now was draw your inevitable death out for as long as you can.

“You know, I considered killing you when I found out. Or maybe sending you to the cellar to be my daughter's newest plaything.” Lady Dimitrescu says lowly. “But..” she drags out slowly, anticipation and fear consuming you as you waited for what she would say next.

“But?..” You repeated slowly, wondering what else she could possibly say.

You subconsciously leaned forward slightly, hanging on each and every word that spilled from her crimson lips. Exactly as she wanted. Eagerness coursed through your body like electricity.

“But, I thought something better. After all, it would be a shame to dispose of such beauty.” She finally responded, once again leaving suspense in the air.

Like a pole nailed to the ground, you were so impossibly still; you even forgot to blink. What exactly did she mean by that, you thought to yourself.

Lady Dimtrescu throws her head back in laughter at the apparent confusion painted along your face.

“Come here, now.” She demanded, no longer laughing as she was momentarily.

Quickly, deciding to keep your head as long as you could, you were standing in front of Lady Dimitrescu in seconds.

“Good.” She praised with a fond smile, and by the Gods, was she a sight to see.

“Now then, I’m going to tell you exactly how this is going to go. Do you understand me?” She asked authoritatively, leaving no room for retort.

While maintaining eye contact, you haphazardly nodded your head in understanding.

“Oh no, sweetheart. You’re going to have to do much better than that. Use your words like the big girl you are.” She responded.

Nervously, you swallowed the lump residing in your throat, “Y-yes, Lady Dimitrescu.” you whispered.

“Good girl.” She praised in return.

Her affirmation made your head fuzzy and core ache with want. There was absolutely no way this was happening right now. Whatever happened to her being the enemy?

Smirking, she grabbed the side of your face and ran her pale, slender finger down the expanse of your jaw, hooking two fingers under your chin and forcing your eyes to meet.

Your skin felt hot. Feverishly so, almost like you were lit on fire. Her burning gaze keeps you trapped in a fevernet daze. There’s no going back now, not even if you really wanted to.

“How about we play a little game?” She asked slyly.

A game? What kind of game? One wear she ruthlessly tears my head off? Or maybe chases me around the castle for sport? I’m not sure I'd like to play any ‘game’ with her, you thought to yourself.

“What do you have in mind?” You asked cautiously, but curiously.

For a moment, she was silent. Her eyes tracing your figure up and down. It was hard to read her, she had an impressive poker face, but as the lady of the castle you didn’t expect anything less. Alcina was a force of nature, which was what made her so incredibly dangerous.

A beat.

The palpable silence was consuming.

Then suddenly Lady Dimitrescu raised her hand and firmly patted her curvy thigh, “Sit.” she said indifferently.

Strangely, you’re more scared of sitting on her thigh than her slicing you into millions of bits and pieces. There was absolutely no way you were about to sit on Alcina Dimitrescu’s thigh.

Wide eyed, you stared at Lady Dimitrescu astounded. You almost couldn’t believe what was happening, no, you couldn’t believe it. Surly, this is some sick and twisted dream your mind conjured to torture you. You weren’t exactly into her, but you’d be lying if you said you weren’t at least morbidly curious about her.

“I don’t like repeating myself, dear.” She said mockingly, your distress clearly fueling her. She wasn’t quite sure yet, but something reeled her in. She was almost certain had you been anyone else you’d be long gone by now. But this was different, you were different.

Slowly but surely you made your way to the large pristine chair, and hoisted yourself onto the expanse of her leg. Embarrassed, you faced away from her and diverted your gaze to the floor.

Expertly, Lady Dimitrescu wrapped her arm around your waist and pulled you flush against her front. Heat burns your cheeks at the quick action.

“Much better.” She purred in your ear as she slowly licked the shell.

Heat went straight to your core as you tried to close your thighs. You couldn’t help but squirm at the feeling of her hot breath down your neck.

Her hand drew lazy patterns on your leg as she slowly bought her hand up to where you desperately wanted her.

“Do you want it?’ She asked in a hushed voice as if she didn’t already know the answer.

Yes. Of course you wanted it, even if it was against your better judgment. Figuratively and literally, you undeniably fucked. There was no way in hell you’d be able to tell Chris about this. You’d most likely lose your job and any shred of dignity you have after this.

A groan slipped past your lips, “yes.”

“Yes what? What do you want?” She replied teasingly. She wanted to poke and prod till you burst. She knew exactly what buttons to push to evoke a reaction.

Your brain fogged with indescribable want. The neurons in your brain failing to cooperate and make any logical response.

“You.” you said needily, almost like a whine. Oh how pathetic you looked. She hadn’t even done anything and you were already ever so desperate for her. She loved it, craved it even.

So submissive, so compliant.

“What do you want me to do, darling?” She asked in response. Of course she knew, but how amusing would it be to make you voice it to her?

“Anything, just do anything, please.” You begged while clenching your thighs once again. You were sure your core was absolutely dripping by now.

“Begging are we?” She asked rhetorically. You could practically hear her shit eating smile.

How she loved it when you begged. The sound was addicting to put it plainly. She could definitely get used to hearing it.

Finally, she brought her hand all the way up your thigh to your aching center. Her slender finger rubbing your folds through the fabric of your underwear.

You gasped at the sudden contact as you pushed yourself closer to her.

“Oh my, you’re absolutely drenched.” She teased. “Is this all for me?” She asked breathily in your ear, just as before,

All you could do was nod in response., your mind too taken with the way her fingers felt against you.

Seemingly tired of the foreplay, Lady Dimitrescu pushed the side of your black lacy thong to the side, exposing your glistening core. A chill ran down your spine at the sudden change in temperature.

“Absolutely beautiful, darling.” She praised as she ran her middle finger through your folds. A low moan erupted from your chest at the notion.

“More, I need more..” You begged, feeling yourself grow impatient.

A smirk plastered on her face as Lady Dimitrescu had a borderline evil idea. “As you wish.” She replied as she quickly plunged two fingers into your soaping core.

You threw your head back onto her shoulder at the rough treatment moaning loudly. Her pace was bruising, but the stretch was undeniably delicious. There was something so attractive about Lady Dimitrescu man handling you.

As she continued,your moans were near pornographic. You were sure anyone in the castle knew what the lady was up to. Not that you care all that much, but it’s still a bit embarrassing.

Your hips jerked up into her hand as she used her palm to apply more pressure on your swollen clit. You felt euphoric. There was nothing in the world you could compare to the way Lady Dimitrescu was making you feel. Even if she did kill you when she was finished, you couldn’t find it in yourself to care.

“You’re close, aren’t you?” She asked while prepping kisses down your neck.

You moaned in response, not being able to form a coherent response.

“Good girl.” She uttered whilst kissing your cheek. “You’re doing so good for me, darling.” She encouraged.

“Come undone for me, show me how much of a needy whore you are for me.” She said as she curled her fingers into your sweet spot.

As if her plethora of praise wasn’t enough, she was so precise, so experienced with her fingers.

With one final thrust, you came all over her fingers. Your juices running down her hand, and ruining your underwear.

She finished with a few slow thrusts while you rode out your high. Once your breath evened out, she skillfully removed her fingers from your core.

“You did wonderfully.” She praised once again while placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

This Lady Dimitrescu was foreign. Incomprehensible even. And yet, for some reason, you adored her this way. Soft spoken and light, she almost seemed human, almost.

What’s to come after this is completely beyond you, all you can do is pray it’ll all come full circle.

[gutterfuuck]

Can I request a mark drabble w/ breeding kink 👉👈 I'd love either bff mark or sinister mark but if you go the sinister route can I be a bit of a coward and ask that he be a little. Softer. Maybe specifically for the reader bc I am a little pansy and I get unrealistically offended when I'm condescended or treated like property, and while it would be hot if this man talked down to me I would also be inclined to punch him in the baby maker and then we'd all suffer bc no smut would ensue 😭

Sorry, I just dumped a bit of unwarranted baggage on u there but you come off as really sweet in all your posts so I hope it didn't bother you too much! Thank you for all of your posts btw your writing is delicious! Also your English is very good, you have a great grasp of the language and I respect and appreciate all the effort you must put into making all of your writing so articulate. English especially is said to be very hard to learn so I immensely respect the effort that goes into it, regardless of any/how much help you require/accept to do so. Manifesting a mild inconvenience to that anon a while back who accused you of faking for some reason I hope they step on a wet kitchen tile while wearing socks or something and rethink how they choose to speak to people online. 😊♡

hello anon!! thank you so much for your considerations, maybe it is because i am emotional since i get very choked up when it is birthday season but this had made me cry happy tears 😭😭 also, i agree!! if anyone was to talk to me like i am disposable in real life, i think that i would break down and disintegrate haha!! it is not cowardly to ask for things, do not be swayed!! baggage is never unwanted here, i am the baggage 😂!! i will do the upmost of my best ability, as i have been waiting to write for s!mark again 🤭🤭 also, i do agree people should be more mindful about what they say to others! you never know what anyone is going through, just because you can hide behind a screen mask doesn’t mean you should or can be mean to people!! i do not judge those who do though, they will learn as months and years pass, people do learn and change!!

cw: mdni, smut, breeding kink, just a little drable to warm up my fingers hehe!! minor injury, reader patches him up

you could hear your husband come crashing through the juliet balcony of your bedroom, bumping into the bed and waking you up fully. you bolted up, scanning the darkness of the room and staring at the silhouette of your lover, crouched over in the shadows. “mark?” you peep, eyes still adjusting as you clicked on the bedside lamp, your eyes instantly closing when the brightness took you by surprise.

he looks back at you, pulling his mask with its flimsy broken black goggles off of his face and discarding it to the floor with a heavy sigh. mark always found it so cute how you’d gasp with your hands flying to cover your mouth when he returned with an injury, your worried eyes looking him over as you jump out from under the covers, hands flying up to cover his cheeks and observe his cut nose bridge, one of his eyes squinted due to the budding bruise on his upper cheekbone, “gonna nurse me back to health, baby?” he asks, smiling down at you and placing a kiss to your forehead. he listens to you lecture him about being careful when visiting other planets, rolling his eyes like he’d really just die like that. you knew he was tough, but it didn’t hurt to be concerned.

he sits on the side of the bathtub in the bathroom, tilting his face to the side so you could rub his injuries down with antiseptic solution, mumbling something about how he was still half human so he still had to be a little careful. he didn’t know how many times he’d had to tell you that even though he was still half human everything else was 100% brutal alien. each time he told you, you ignored it. maybe you liked patching him up, placing cute bandages on his face to stop his bleeding. he was hardly injured but he’d be damned if he didn’t let his cute little wife dote on him like this, the sleeves of your fluffy gown he’d bought home for you rolled up your arms as you fiddle with the first aid kit.

“y’know what’d me me feel better?” mark says, taking your hands into his. god, he could just crush you right now, you were so adorable. you hum in response, intertwining your fingers with his as he brings them to his lips, trailing kisses up your arm and pulling you closer, inching towards you slowly. your mouth hangs open with a breathless silent mewl as his lips stop just by your jawline, finding it hard to hold himself back from nipping your skin and marking you up. you nod at his earlier question which draws a chuckle from him, hands moving down to grip your hips and pull you onto his lap, “let’s go to bed, then.”

you’ve got your face in the crook of his neck, holding onto his back as he pistoned his hips in and out of your tight heat, never being shameful of your moans. music to his ears, he thought, letting you cry out so desperately into the night. if you had neighbours you’re sure they’d complain. he groaned when he felt you clench around him, muscled thighs stuttering for a moment as you suffocated his cock within your walls. “oh, babygirl-“ he tilts his head back, holding you firmly as your legs wrap around his waist, practically bouncing you up and down on his dick himself, “m-mark..-!” you squeal, voice raspy and throat dry when you feel him buck up into your g-spot, weeping head poking at it repeatedly, trying to pull your orgasm out of you. you whine loudly, holding onto him like you’d fall apart if you let go.

“shhh, s’okay, hold onto me like that, there we go.” mark comforts you, such a strange comparison from when he’s out causing mayhem to now. if those who opposed him were to see him right now, they’d think he’d be a different person. he was so soft with you, treated you like you were made of porcelain and you loved it. you were glad that you’d somehow tamed him in a way, molded him into your perfect husband as he made you into his perfect wife. domestic bliss.

you stifle your noises with his shoulder, softly biting on it as he snapped his hips up into yours vigorously, his own orgasm approaching hard and fast. you could feel the way his cock throbbed inside of you, the way he slowed his hips a little before trying to keep up his pace. “so tight, always so perfect n’ tight f’me, aren’t you?” you nod brainlessly into his shoulder and he coos at you, eyebrows furrowed together as he gasps lightly.

“i’m gonna cum, princess.” he says breathlessly, humping against you for his own orgasm, “inside…” you whisper to him and he almost loses it right there, almost falls over when he thinks about the implications it might have. “inside? yeah-fuck, gonna let me cum inside, just for me?” mark pants, pussydrunk figure caging you in under him as he chases his orgasm, “gimme a kid… f-fuck, gimme a baby, wanna make you a mama… g’na look so perfect— fuh-uck..!” he babbles, vision blanking as he cums inside of you, wave after wave of his warm seed spilling into your cunt, seeping into your womb. he canted his hips a few more times, almost fucking himself into overstimulation as he continued talking, “..gonna give me a mini me, huh? complete our little family?” he asks as you nod in agreement, too fucked out to even process what he’d said to you just now.