#he's so sweet on you it actually might be illegal

[theyanderespecialist]

(Remake) Base Yandere Husk Headcanons: Consent Is Key

[Hello, My Sexy Muffins I am back with a new chapter! This one is with Husk! Hope you enjoy this! So let's do this!] 

(Disclaimer: Husk is not yandere in canon this is just for fun and not to be taken seriously at all! Simping for fictional characters and yanderes is fine! Just do not be illegal or gross about it! Also, remember to separate fiction from reality and headcanon from canon! Yanderes are not ideal partners to have in real life.) 

-Base Yandere Headcanons With Husk From Hazbin Hotel- 

.Husk is a grumpy old sinner in hell, he used to be an overlord but lost it all. 

.Making a deal with Alastor to save his power, and now he is on that demon's leash. 

.Husk is a hazbin, having been an overlord and once at the top. He fell and now is an old shell of himself. 

.He drinks, he gambles, and he wallows. 

.There is one thing that does make him feel all warm and fuzzy, but he would never tell anyone about it. 

.And that is you, his sweet little kitten. 

.You have not been in hell anywhere close as long as him, so he kind of takes you under his wing. 

.He keeps you from making mistakes like making deals with overlords or getting so drunk that you get hurt. 

.He also hates when you are not being genuine or honest with him. He hates it more than anything else almost. 

.He wants to be someone you can come to when you need someone, be the person that you search for in a crowd, be your one and only. 

.He hates that he is not that, he thought he lost the ability to love long ago. 

.So at first he will try and drink his feelings for you away, though he knows that it is not doing anything for him. 

.It does not even numb the pain of not being with you, probably actually makes it worse. 

.He does not remember the last time he has been able to sleep without dreaming of you. 

.He does remember the last time that he has felt this way, if ever. 

.You become like his new bottle of booze, his new addiction and the more he is with you the more he NEEDS you, and CANNOT live without you. 

.He genuinely cares about you and wants you safe, and if anyone tried to take advantage of you, without your consent, they would be dead. 

.Husk does not, and will not play around with that shit. 

.Consent is important to them, for you to have your consent taken from you would make him so angry. 

.So he would never force you in any way, not even to make you love him. 

.He wants you to love him of your own free will and for it to be real. 

.He would die to keep you safe as a yandere he is protective of you, and very much a guiding yandere. 

.Guiding you to keep you safe, and a little bit of guiding in the romance to try and romance you. 

.He has not dated in a long time so of course he is out of practice. 

.His dream date with you is just snuggled together on the couch by the fire, him reading to you. 

.That is his perfect date. 

.He is also a no-nonsense or bullshit kind of yandere. 

.He is not going to let you lie to him, he will not let you try and pull the wool over his eyes. 

.He can be firm, but he is also understanding, especially when you are honest with him. 

.He would fight a war with Angels for you. 

.He does not care how hard it may be. He will win you over. 

.Cause eventually he cannot live without your love, and will not live without your love. 

.He has to romance you first and if he fails he will try and try again. 

.How does he deal with rivals? 

.First, he warns them to stay away, if that does not work, he either makes a bet with them that he knows they will lose and force them to leave you, or he kills them. 

.It depends on what they did to you. 

.He knows it is selfish, he knows it is not fair to you, but he has not loved like this in any part of his life, and he is not letting you go. 

.He would confess to you after he romanced you for at least months. 

.If you say yes, his heart will swell and he might even shed a tear. 

.If you say no, he will try and try again, he will never force you, but he is not giving up. 

.Consent is key and he will get you to agree of your own free will to be his and his alone! 

[YASSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS Another chapter is done! I hope you all enjoyed this, and stay sexy, all of my sexy muffins!] 

#yandere #yandere husk #yandere hazbin hotel #yandere headcanons #headcanon #headcanons #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin husk #husk x reader #reader #gender neutral reader

[ghouljams]

would it perhaps be a lot for me to ask for any crumbs of sheep farmer not-so-cowboy!Keegan? i have been thinking about sheep and how amazing it would be to cuddle and sleep with them, and Keegan (along with Price but that's a whole other box that's safer to leave unopened) literally never leaves my mind, so i am here humbly asking you to bless me with the masterful art is your writing.

You want thoughts on Keegan I have so many Thoughts on Keegan

not-so-cowboy!Keegan loves that you've got so much fire in you, that you're a little crazy, loves that you're not willing to go down without a fight. He loves even more that you'll settle down for him. Loves that you don't see how much he cares for you until you're half asleep. That you always smile up at him when he sets food in front of you, always tip your head back into his hands when he offers to wash your hair, that you always reach for his hand in the mornings when you're still groggy, that you let him lead you around like a puppy.

He loves you in the morning. You following him out to the pasture, in your pjs and boots, one of his jackets thrown over your tee and wrapped tight around your middle. You never seem to be quite warm enough for the morning chill as you hop up onto the pasture fence, pull your feet up to settle on a lower rung, content to watch the dog corral the sheep as Keegan counts heads and makes note of what his flock needs. You always jump down and hurry after him when he turns to check the barn, reaching for his hand so he can lace your fingers together as he walks. He loves the way you coo at the new lambs, how you rub their ears between your fingers, loves the way they follow after you as soft and sweet as they are. He loves taking you back to the house and settling you with a warm cup of coffee while he makes breakfast.

He loves you at night when the two of you meet up with the Walkers at the only bar in town. Loves the way you lean against the bar, the way your perfect lips curve into a smile, the way your fingers rest against the neck of a beer bottle. Loves inserting himself between you and whoever you're talking to, loves that your eyes light up when he asks you:

"You're so fine, you know that?"

Loves the way you tell him, "I know." With a spark in your eyes that he can never ignore. He loves the way you always play along with his games, that you always meet him where he is, that he never worries you won't come home with him.

"You got a boyfriend?" He continues, asking questions the rest of the men at the bar could only dream of. You rest your cheek against your hand and give him a once over that makes him positively preen.

"Maybe," You purr, and he loves the way each syllable drags over your tongue, "Why, you lookin' to submit an application?"

"And what if I am?"

You shrug, look back at your drink, "I got high standards."

"I'd be good to ya," Keegan tells you, just to see you smile again, to see you duck your head to stop him from seeing you break character. Just to hear you murmur,

"I know." Like you're so sure of him it hurts.

He loves that too, that you're his. That you know you're his the same way he knows he's yours. Keegan is a good shepherd. He looks after his flock, and you're part of that now.

#cod x reader #x reader #keegan ghosts #keegan x reader #keegan russ #cod keegan #keegan p russ #keegan russ x reader #cowboy!keegan #actually I guess its #shepherd!keegan #he's so sweet on you it actually might be illegal

[deadsetobsessions]

Sea Cryptic! Danny AU- Pt. 7

[Pt.1] [Pt.2] [Pt.3] [Pt.4] [Pt.5] [Pt.6]

“I’m having a child.”

Danny stared at Batman.

“…Uh, congrats?”

Batman whips out a stack of paper and a pen. “It’s you. Sign here and initial the highlighted spots.”

Danny instinctively, from years of dealing with Vlad, whacked the stack right out of Batman’s hands and into the bay. He doesn’t even feel bad about littering this time because, “Begone, fruitloop!”

Wait, no, that’s not what he meant.

“I mean- I have parents!”

“Not for long.” Batman muttered and then did a double take. “You have parents? How?”

Danny gasped, placing a hand on his chest to clutch his metaphorical pearls. He ignored Batman’s mutters. Everyone knows the vigilante has an adoption problem. At least, everyone who lived in Gotham did, as everyone who didn’t was somehow convinced that he “worked alone” or some bullshit like that. “Are you naturally this insensitive or were you dropped on your head as a baby? Obviously I had to come from somewhere.”

“They’re still… alive?”

“And kicking,” Danny said, inching away from yet another rich weird guy trying to adopt him. “Mostly the kicking part, though.” He said, remembering the sparring sessions. His mom could kick his as six ways to Sunday with nothing but jiu-jitsu and still have time to work in the lab.

“I see.”

“I’m charging you extra for the emotional upheaval. I have trauma regarding rich people trying to adopt me.”

Batman sullenly handed over a thousand.

“Sweet. There’s a group of shades down here asking if you could find their murderer. Apparently the serial killer is still at large.” Danny pointed.

“Of course. Tell me everything.”

The adoption papers disappeared as Batman went into detective mode.

Danny shoved the cash into his glowing chest and breathed a sigh of relief. He needed to make rent this month so it was a windfall running into Batman.

——

“Hey, Tim?”

Tim woke up from his Power Nap. “Huh?”

“Phantom’s complaining that Batman kept trying to adopt him.”

Tim blinked. “Uh.. what does that have to do with me?”

Danny stared at him, a patiently amused smile on his face. “Just in case the rumor about the Wayne’s sugar-daddy-into the Bats was a thing. Other than that, we might have to confront Batman to get him off of Phantom’s back. ”

“You… want to confront Batman.”

“Hey, man, Phantom’s a friend and it’s ride or die.” Danny snickered. It was literally die, with his Phantom side of things. He held two fists up, and wound them, like Popeye right after eating spinach or something. “And if Batman bothers Phantom, we ride at dawn.”

“Batman doesn’t come out unless it’s dark, though? Or for the Justice League.” Tim grinned. He mentally classified Danny under his “to go to” list. That’s where Bart, Bernard, Cassie, Kon, and Garfield were. If he starts shit, he could count on them to have his back and cause even more shit. Danny, wanting to fistfight Bruce over the man making Phantom uncomfortable? He absolutely is making that list.

“Then we ride at, like, dusk. Or uh, like 10PM. I gotta get my beauty sleep.”

“You’ll definitely need it,” Tim inconspicuously texted the group chat, which quickly blew up.

“Shut up,” Danny playfully shoved Tim. “Wait, can Batman even legally adopt? Isn’t being a vigilante illegal? And how can he adopt someone dead?”

Tim dramatically flailed and splayed over Danny’s carpeted living room. “Dunno about his identity,” he lied to Danny, like a liar. “But Gotham has a bunch of laws for the undead/restored to life people so there’s probably enough gray space there.”

Danny spluttered. “You guys have undead friendly laws?”

“Yeah, geht do you think Grundy just chills out? Plus, we have like a minor resurrection event every few years. It usually doesn’t stick but sometimes it does. Bruce pushed for those laws when Jason came back to life, except he doesn’t actually want people to know he’s like, alive.”

“Jason died?” Danny blinked. Well, that would explain the vibes. “Huh. So what’s up with his rank vibes then?”

“Rank vibes?” Tim pressed record on his phone.

Danny nodded. “Yeah, you know how Phantom’s got like a really chill green vibe?” Inwardly, Danny snickered at his pun. Chill. Yeah, he meant that very literally. “Jason’s got kind of a rank green vibe. He’s kind of stinky? Definitely never introduce him to Phantom.” Danny’s senses got worse in his ghost form.

“Jason regularly showers, though?!”

“Not smell! Like, a spiritual smell?”

“You can smell souls?!” Tim sat up. “Bro, you’re a meta?!”

“Uh.” Danny hesitated. “Yeah. I can smell souls. It’s a thing. Everyone from my town can do it.”

“What?!” Tim paused. “Wait, can Phantom smell souls?”

“Yeah. We’re, uh, from the same town.”

“Danny, what the fuck?”

“Hey, don’t look at me like that, you’re the one with a soul-sick brother! Not to mention, you’re kinda stinky too!”

“Hey!”

“Soul-stinky nerd man!”

——

“I stink?!” Jason spluttered out, extremely offended.

“The Lazarus pits. He’s most likely smelling traces of Lazarus pit on you, you imbecile.”

“We need to speak to Phantom. This instant.”

“I dunno, B. Danny sounded like he was gonna break your face if you bothered Phantom anymore.” Dick snickered.

“Yeah,” Tim chimed in, from his seat in front of the Bat-computer. “He was pretty serious.”

“Are we just gonna glaze over the fact that they’re from the same town?!” Stephanie exclaimed, practicing her moves on a training dummy.

“How does that even work? What does that mean? I thought Phantom was an immortal?” Duke asked.

“We also can’t rule out time-travel.” Barbara slammed her baton into a training dummy, twisting her wheelchair in an agile maneuver that left the dummy on the floor.

“No bothering Phantom.” Cass proclaimed.

“That’s quite right. You all have a warm dinner sitting above your cave and should it remain uneaten, I assure you that sherbet Sunday and crêpe Tuesday shall be canceled.” Alfred stepped in. The Bats, threatened, scrambled to ditch their gear and go upstairs.

#Danny: not another adoption! #Vlad and Bruce trying to adopt Danny even though he’s got parents:🤝 #batman #danny phantom #tim drake #jason todd #bruce wayne #dc x dp #bamf danny phantom #dpxdc #dcxdp #dcxdp crossover #sea cryptic! danny au

[reythenerdypisces]

things that I overlooked in PJO the first time / small, funny things I noticed during my reread

Part 1: The Lightning Thief

All I could think of was that the teacher's must've found the illegal stash of candy I'd been selling out of my dorm room. oh he was one of those guys

"I believe that was question 38 on your final exam..." He [Chiron] looked at me as if he actually expected me to remember question 38. once a teacher always a teacher

A strange fire burned in my stomach. The weirdest thing was: it wasn't fear. It was anticipation. The desire for revenge. We got a hint of dark Percy in book 1

I'd been afraid he [Luke] might resent me for getting so much attention the last few days. But here he was giving me a magic gift... It made me blush almost as much as Annabeth. tell me again this boy did not have a crush on Luke

The game ended when I tossed the apple toward Grover and it got too close to his mouth. In one mega goat bite, our Hacky Sack disappeared - core, stem, and all. Grover blushed. He tried to apologise, but Annabeth and I were too busy cracking up. I love moments of them being able to just be kids

She [Annabeth] loved reading so much, I'd forgotten she was dyslexic, too. I think the fandom forgets this too

Annabeth muttered to me, "Circus caravan?" "Always have a strategy, right?" Percy is so smart and so good at thinking on his feet, I'm tired of the fandom treating him like he's dumb

I was feeling satisfied after the burger, and a little sleepy, and I figured the least I could do was try to make small talk with our hostess. He's so sweet. Even if the host was Medusa

"I hate Australia! Naming that ridiculous animal after me [Echidna]." As someone currently living in Australia, this cracked me up.

I whistled. "You have evil thoughts for a goat." "Why, thank you." I love Grover and Percy and their friendship, very under appreciated

"I'm Crusty," he said, with a tartar-yellow smile. I resisted the urge to say, Yes you are. he's hilarious

A steely look of anger flared in my mother's eyes, and I thought, just maybe, I was leaving her in good hands after all. Her own. I also love Sally Jackson

that's all, I'll be back for sea of monsters :)

#percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo #pjo disney+ #pjo series #the lightning thief #rick riordan #perseus jackson #annabeth chase #grover underwood

[celestemona]

WHERE YOU’RE HIS BELOVED S/O

but you don’t respect the law

pairing: neuvillette x fem former gang leader! reader

reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡

when you first started dating Neuvillette, the looks you both got on the street were pure admiration and a touch of envy. after all, it was no wonder why when the two of you exuded an unshakable elegance and the stares you exchanged with each other drew long sighs from even the most unromantic person.

wherever you went together people would whisper in delight, gossiping about your last date and pointing out on how you filled in what the other lacked. from your charming, mysterious personality to Neuvillette's seriousness and honesty, you and him were considered the most famous, beautiful and powerful couple in Fontaine — the definition of perfect for each other.

but many still wondered how the Chief Justice got his heart stole after spending the last few years rejecting any potential partners, because even the most senior citizens of the capital remember only seeing the iudex accompanied only by the eccentric hydro archon, to whom he served more as a responsible guardian than a right hand.

the truth was that for nearly a decade you had been in Neuvillette's crosshairs. or rather, in the crosshairs of the law.

what the hydro nation’s population didn’t imagine was that behind your sweet smiles and kind words was hiding an ambitious, astute woman and former head of one of the most famous illegal organizations in Fontaine with connections throughout Teyvat. and for years you managed to manage and expand your business without the goddess herself being suspicious of all the illegal activities that went on under her nose.

at that time, you didn't know which of the fontanian authorities to watch out for and so you loosened the reins. unfortunately or not, that was your downfall so you couldn't hide from the Chief Justice for very long — in fact, you actually did.

the only relationship that Neuvillette had for all the decades (centuries) he was alive was with his responsibility, therefore, it wasn’t difficult for you to use the art of persuasion and seduction to get rid of the main objectives of the man who was to take you to court and condemn you for your crimes.

for months you've been successful in your escapes, using your wiles, wits and contacts to hide any evidence that could land you in trial.

however, it wasn't until you ended up stumbling into your own trap that you found yourself willingly surrendering to the dragon-man.

it was only when you partially abandoned the illegal business that you then started dating, though. Neuvillette might love you irrevocably but he wouldn't date someone who was involved in fraud or smuggling — besides, you too were tired of your old life and so left your leader's chair to your most faithful and trusted friend.

although you now had a good business as a florist in the hydro capital, you still pulled strings to smuggle some rare flowers from Sumeru or seeds only found in the heart of Natlan to your shop. Neuvillette would usually stare at you in disapproval, but then forget to give you a lecture for the way you managed to distract him with kisses and sweet talk.

“last time this month, my love. i promise."

“ma chérie, you said that last week.”

“i know i know! but do you know Colette? that kind lady who always offers us the freshest macarons from her thursday batches? she loved the popularity of Kalpalatas in her bakery and made me an order of sixty of them, can you believe that? Kalpalatas are not easy to find, mon amour. no no.”

Neuvillette could only sigh in weariness, the silver engagement ring on his right ring finger glinting as he pinched the bridge of his nose.

“make sure the goods arrive before dawn on tuesday.”

smiling mischievously you declared “i love you.”

even if this new life was quite different from your original character, no one could dispute how it fit you so well. even your former subordinates had only positive comments to make about how the domestic routine suited you. and you really wouldn't change a thing about it because you were never as happy as you were with the man who lay down beside you every night, and dawned with his arms tightly around you.

if anything, you wouldn't change anything in your life because that way you would never meet Neuvillette.

even if there was still so much difference between the two of you, there couldn't be a better relationship of companionship and understanding than that.

that must be the reason why that instead of running away again, you preferred to be caught.

#genshin impact #genshin #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #neuvillette #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette x fem reader

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Can you do yandere platonic Tengen with reader who is his blood related child and is hinatsuru’s child?

Yandere Tengen Uzui and his wives with a Child reader | Kimetsu no Yaiba

You don’t have to be bloodrelated to be dearly loved 

Whether you were birthed by one of your mothers or legally adopted or illegally abducted

You are the light of their lives

A sweet little baby they can pour all their love into 

Happily cycling with each of them through the night as you wake at the crack of dawn

..or maybe not so happy

“Come on! Suma its Hina’s turn!”

“Shh and no she get’s to spend all the time nursing them! I want it to be my turn!”

“Suma. Give me my baby or you won’t be able to hold them after what I'll do to you.”

“Suma…” “...Fine. But I take the next time they cry.”

As talented Shinobi spending the night with a crying baby is not as big of a change as usual

Plus there’s three of them to help

And when Tengen’s home it’s likely he’ll just take over because he’s away so often he just wants to spend all that free time with you

Even as you grow to a toddler stage you take absolute first priority

And if there's any time the wives might be inclined to ignore him is when they haven’t gotten their kisses for the day

���(Y/n)! Come here baby! Come on!”

“Don’t walk to him, he doesn’t have your bottle now does he? Come on my sweet mochi!”

“Makio!”

“Tengen!”

You’ll probably be spoiled beyond belief 

Unless you learn humility on your own you will actually take all their praise to heart

Just as they raised you

You’re allowed to step on others because your perfect in every way 

And if the world doesn’t treat you like a gift then the world has a problem

#yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere platonic #platonic yandere x reader #yandere tengen uzui #yandere tengen uzui x child reader #yandere tengen wives x child reader #yandere x baby reader #yandere hinatsuru tengen #yandere makio tengen #yandere suma tengen #yandere family #yandere kny x reader #yandere kny #yandere kimetsu no yaiba #yandere demon slayer #yandere demon slayer x reader

[fuckyeahdindjarin]

Denim on Denim

A Seams x Grays crossover

Summary: Joel tries to get a haircut - but it turns out he can’t do anything in the QZ without getting into a fistfight, and you’re lucky enough to be in the audience.

Warnings: Mildly spicy thoughts, two sexy men fighting, language, reader was a hairdresser prior to the outbreak and has a nickname related to her job, no use of Y/N, no physical descriptions of reader, very lightly edited.

This oneshot can be read independently of the two series, but for the full experience, I recommend reading at least Grays. This is a post-outbreak AU of Grays, and is set before Seams Joel leaves the QZ. Part of the Shiv's salon drabbles.

Word count: 2.7k

Notes: A whole year after my random thoughts about how Joel's hair looks that good in an apocalypse and a random notif on this post that reminded of it, we finally get Joel to Shiv's salon... or do we? 🤷🏻‍♀️ I had a blast writing this oneshot - it's a bit silly, a bit spicy, I hope you enjoy it ❤️

‘Goddamnit.’

Joel swipes viciously at the curl hanging over eyes, like a boxer at a punchbag. Try as he might to slick it back, every time his shovel hits the dirt, the hair uncoils, bouncing obnoxiously in his field of vision.

He needs a fucking haircut. Tess usually does it for him every month or so, but she’s been in a mood - snapping at him, keeping him at arm’s length, she hasn’t even been to his apartment for two whole weeks.

This time of the year is hard for her. He knows all too well that he’s the same every September. They’re in each of their own time loops, a cage within the trappings of the QZ.

‘You look like you need a trim, bro.’

Joel barely glances up. He knows the guy, they share a surname after all. People call him Ben, or Benny, and even an old man like him knows he’s a good-looking son of a bitch.

They work the same shifts sometimes, and he knows Tess has crossed paths with him at the illegal fight nights. Joel has also seen him a few times at the bar, where he’s usually surrounded by even more good-looking motherfuckers.

Joel knows he’s a damn flirt too. He always has pretty words for Tess when he sees her. He’s harmless though, and he supposes that she deserves sweet nothings from at least one Miller since he’s no good at them.

Realising he hasn’t responded, Joel grunts noncommittally, self-consciousness prickling the back of his neck.

‘I know someone, she was a professional hairdresser before all this.’

Joel ignores him and keeps shovelling.

‘If you tell her you know me, she’ll give you a good rate.’

More shovelling.

‘Alright man, my shift’s up. See you ‘round.’

Five steps, and Joel sighs, digging the shovel into the dirt.

‘Wait.’

Joel stands on the doorway, and stares.

There’s an actual backwash in the corner of the dingy living room - well, living space. There are no doors in the tenement apartments.

‘You waiting for it to say hello back, or what?’

His eyes snap to yours, a scowl drawing his brows together.

Not that you look at all intimidated, one eyebrow arched high and an amused smile sitting lopsided on your lips, which he will admit throws him just a bit. He’s not used to having to work for it.

Giving you a tight nod, he takes two steps into the apartment. He recognises the layout, a mirror of his own, which is a few blocks away.

Closing the door with a flourish behind him, you ask brightly, ‘You’re here for a haircut?’

He’s about to answer when something winks at him, and he looks up, momentarily blinded by the reflection of afternoon light in the cracked mirror that hangs over a battered styling station.

Your apartment has windows that don’t look directly onto the next building, and sun floods the space. Even light is a real rarity in the shithole of a QZ, where everything indoors is dingy. He idly wonders if you had to bribe someone -

Distracted, he catches the sliver of a shadow moving from the corner of his eye a split second later than he would if he was on high alert. On reflex, his fingers find the hilt of his knife and he whips it out in a wide arc, swinging to his left where gunmetal catches the afternoon light.

‘Drop it!’ he barks, the same moment as the other man growls, ‘The fuck are you doing in my home with a knife?’

To Joel’s bewilderment, you chuckle somewhere to his right, amused. ‘C’mon guys. Dramatic, much?’

‘He snuck up on me,’ Joel growls defensively.

‘Frankie, put your gun away, dude’s just here for a haircut - I’m assuming anyway, he never did answer my question.’

‘Yes, I’m here for a haircut,’ he snaps, resheathing his knife. ‘Fuck would I be doin’ here if not?’

‘Fuck should I know, dipshit?’ retorts Frankie, tucking his gun in the back of his jeans. ‘You always bring a knife to your haircuts?’

‘D’ya always threaten to shoot paying customers?’

‘No, we definitely do not.’ You step into the space between the two men in case they get snippy with each other again. ‘Who sent you?’

Your customer crosses his arms, and you can’t help noticing the fabric of his shirt stretching across those broad shoulders. ‘Blondie.’

‘Blondie?’ you frown, confused. ‘Oh wait, you mean Ben? I thought I recognised you. I’ve seen you at one of his fights, with your wife? What’s her name now -’

‘Tess,’ he replies, then promptly looks like he wishes he’d stopped himself before he answered. ‘She’s not my -’ he trails off, and it’s clear he doesn’t like how you’re reading him at the moment, grumbling, ‘None of your damn business.’

‘Hey, you watch your mouth around my lady, old man,’ warns Frankie, ratcheting up the tension again.

Squaring his shoulders, the man seems to grow two inches. ‘Or what?’

Suddenly aware of being caught in the crossfire between your protective husband on one side, and this gruff, silvered stranger on the other, heat bubbles unbidden under your skin, the unexpected reaction from your body catching you off guard.

Biting your lower lip, you clear your throat, and somehow you sound steadier than you feel when you dispense the orders. 

‘Ok, this is enough. Frankie, sit down over there,’ you say, pointing him in the direction of the couch on the other side of the room. ‘And you - since you’re Benny’s friend, two ration cards.’

‘’M not his friend,’ he almost spits out that last word, as if it tastes weird.

You give him a pointed look. ‘Three ration cards, then.’

He huffs, and hands you two from his back pocket. ‘Fine, I’m Benny’s friend.’

You grin. ‘If you’re besties, it’s one.’

‘Don’t push it.’

You back off with a chuckle. ‘Fine, not besties. Maybe next time. Now sit.’

Joel does as he’s told, awkwardly, in the styling chair, a relic from the pre-outbreak days. It creaks dangerously under his weight, and it wobbles, slightly off-kilter. The cracked leather is warm from the sun, which seeps into his skin, and he finds himself wondering when was the last time he went to a hair salon.

Sarah used to love cutting his hair. She always made an afternoon out of it on one of his rare days not working overtime, putting the music on, setting up her Barbie mirror on the dining room table, and having him pick out a hairstyle from a magazine (it never looked anywhere near like the photos). She’d even put a disposable raincoat over him like a hairdresser’s cape. She really wasn’t any good, there’s a reason why Tommy didn’t let her anywhere near his curls, but he always wore her handiwork with pride -

So lost in his thoughts, he reacts purely on instinct when, for the first time in decades, fingers other than his own find his hair.

Swivelling around, he’s out of the chair in a split second, fingers wrapped tight around your wrists. You yelp as he pushes you back against the wall, which he sees from the shape of your lips but doesn’t hear over the blood pounding in his ears.

Joel barely holds you there for a second before he’s yanked backwards by a hand on the back of his collar, and he stumbles, crashing into the adjacent wall. He barely misses the fist heading towards his face, ducking just in time to save himself what would undoubtedly have been a broken nose.

He barrels into the younger man with his shoulder, expecting him to tumble back, and is surprised when he doesn’t budge. Joel’s aware he’s got a few years on him, but he more than holds his own against punks that age on the daily. This guy clearly has a background in combat, and it’s taking Joel everything to stay on his feet.

In the meantime, you’re still plastered against the wall, dazed by your customer’s reaction. Heck, you haven’t even gotten his name yet before he literally jumped you. He’s a skittish one, that’s for sure. 

You smile at the memory of Frankie’s first time with you at the salon - he’d give this guy a good run for his money. Lucky for him, you’ve always been good at wrangling the nervous ones.

Speaking of, the two men are now literally wrestling in front of you. If you had to venture a guess by the grays in the hair, you reckon your customer is pushing fifty. He’s built like a fucking tank though, and he’s giving everything he’s got.

So you decide to watch for a little while. Boys will be boys, best leave them to let off some steam. Leaning against the wall, you get comfortable, and you think wistfully to yourself that Ashton would have loved this view.

You’re not sure how you missed that they’re both wearing denim on denim, and you would struggle to pick out which is your husband if not for the hat on his head. Yes, the damn cap survived the apocalypse with him.

They are remarkably similar in build, though your customer seems to stand just a couple of inches taller. His biceps flex and bulge through the shirt sleeves as he scuffles with Frankie, teeth bared; meanwhile, your husband plants his feet, jeans stretched tight over his adorable little ass, trying to hold the man back long enough to throw a punch.

If the room was warm when they were trading barbs, it’s positively sweltering right now.

All you can see are broad shoulders and fabric bursting at the seams, grappling fingers and clenched fists. Back muscles rippling through denim, teasing slivers of skin and soft bellies when shirttails ride up and jeans fall low. The cheerful afternoon sun kisses their skin golden, casting long shadows across the creaking wooden floor.

And they’re not quiet. Throaty grunts as they jostle, panted breath peppered with cusses, fuck’s and sons of bitches as they wrestle for control.

Suddenly, you’re the one who’s out of breath despite not moving a muscle.

As much as you would’ve loved to stand and watch, you can tell both men are starting to get winded. You don’t exactly want the show to end, entertainment is hard to come by in the QZ, let alone of such a visually stimulating variety, in your own living room. But you think you hear the older man wheeze, their shirts are now stained with sweat, and the frantic energy they started with turns heavy with lethargy.

With a rueful sigh, you speak up, ‘Frankie, come on, that’s enough now.’

He growls, ‘No fucking way. He tried to hurt you!’

‘He barely touched me. It was just his PTSD acting out.’

‘I don’t have PTSD,’ the man protests, shooting you a glare before dodging an elbow.

‘There’s no shame in having PTSD,’ you admonish him. ‘Or in getting help.’

‘Why don’t you give me a hand then?’ he scoffs, tipping his head at Frankie.

‘Yeah, looks like you can use it,’ your husband taunts him.

‘Sure you can’t, asshole? Can’t even take down an old man on your own?’

‘I hope you're hungry, 'cause you're gonna eat your words, asshole -’

Hands on hips, you roll your eyes at the exceedingly average trash talk. ‘You know what? I tried asking nicely - I’m going in.’

It’s a tight squeeze, but somehow, you find a space between the elbows and shoulders and knees, and you wedge yourself in. It’s hot and humid between the two men, who are still trying to get at each other, despite the fact that you now have one hand on each of their chests, trying to pry them apart. Trapped between the two solid walls of chest, their raw strength vibrates through you, through harsh panting breath, the musk of sweat and man, and denim rubs rough on your bare skin where you’re pressed up against them.

It’s not hard to imagine being in this position in an entirely different situation, with the axis tilted, on a softer surface. Heat prickles all over you like needles, and unbeknownst to you, your thighs press together, and your panties start to feel sticky -

‘What the fuck are you doing?’ asks Frankie, incredulous as he looms over you, still grabbing onto the other guy’s shirt.

You bat your eyelashes at him, then crane your neck over your shoulder to wink at the other man. A little spiral of a curl dangles over his eyes as he glares at you, puffs of warm air hitting the shell of your ear. 

Knowing that your best chance of breaking off this nonsense is to wildly offend both men, you purr, ‘Making a delicious sandwich ‘cause I’m famished -’

Frankie flushes bright red instantly, and he roars, ‘Get your filthy hands off my wife, son of a bitch!’

Not that his hands are anywhere near you (a tragedy), nonetheless, the man jumps five feet back, as if you burned him. He may deny Tess being his wife, but the look of absolute horror of being accused of touching you speaks volumes.

You can tell he would have doubled over catching his breath, hands on his knees, if not for his pride. Stubbornly, he stands tall, hands on hips, chest heaving.

‘Bit jumpy, are we?’ you quip.

‘You always that handsy?’ he retorts.

‘Can’t help myself with beautiful curls like yours,’ you wink, and your smile widens when he flushes.

Frankie throws up his hands in disbelief. ‘Shiv, I’m standing right here.’

‘You always are,’ you tease, pressing a kiss to his pinched lips. ‘Now, go take a walk, you've made enough of a scene.’

‘I’m not leaving you here with him -’

The older man scoffs. ‘Don’t worry, I’m not interested in your woman.’

You feign indignation. ‘Hey! That’s hurtful.’

‘You should be, jackass!’ Frankie gripes, and promptly looks as confused as the other man at his own pronouncement.

Taking his hand, you pull him towards the door. ‘Go on babe, you were going to have a drink with Pope anyway. I got everything under control.’

‘Alright,’ Frankie relents, but not before he points a menacing finger at your customer. ‘If he tries anything -’

‘I know where the gun is,’ you finish his sentence.

Pressing one final kiss to your lips and throwing a glare over your shoulder, Frankie turns and leaves - and you preen at the knowledge that he trusts you can take care of yourself.

Once the door closes, you smile. ‘So… should we start over?’

 The man snorts. ‘I’d say.’

‘I’m Shiv,’ you say, but you don’t offer him your hand. He doesn’t seem to be the handshaking type.

He picks up on your perception, studying you with curious eyes. ‘Joel.’

Pushing the swivel chair back to the styling station, you gesture at him to retake his seat, and this time, you make sure his eyes are on yours in the mirror while you stand over his shoulder.

‘Hair’s a bit long, huh?’ you remark, eyeing the ringlet over his eyes.

‘It’s drivin’ me nuts,’ he admits.

You hold up your hands this time, giving him plenty of notice. ‘May I?’

He nods, and you start small, wrapping the spiral around your index finger with a grin. ‘I wasn’t just saying it, y’know. You do have beautiful hair.’

He shifts awkwardly, the chair squeaking, obviously uncomfortable with compliments. ‘Dunno. I’m all gray and shit.’

‘As someone wise once said, grays are sexy as fuck,’ you assure him. Running your fingers through his curls, you study the texture critically, noting the blunt ends and uneven thickness. Nothing a professional haircut can’t fix. ‘Trust me, I’m very wise.’

He hums, unconvinced, but you can see the lines around his eyes crease in amusement. ‘If you say so.’

You wink at him in the mirror. ‘When I’m done with you, Tess will have the hardest time keeping her hands to herself.’

‘What makes you think she doesn’t already?’

It takes you a moment to unfreeze, stunned by his retort. At his arched eyebrow, you burst into laughter. ‘You’re a sassy one, aren’t you, Joel?’

He huffs, half-amused, and shakes his head. ‘It’s a haircut, not a miracle.’

You squeeze his shoulder, grinning when he doesn’t jump at the contact. ‘Trust me, I’m just that good at my job.’

More notes: If you enjoyed this oneshot, I wrote a series of drabbles of Shiv giving other Pedro boys haircuts - you can find them in the Grays masterlist 🩶 I may write more for this universe and some point if inspiration strikes again, thank you for reading!

And if you wanted an inspo shot of Joel's hair, here you go ❤️

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

#seams x grays #fuckyeahgrays #fuckyeahseams #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x reader #joel miller fanfiction

[anonymous-dentist]

Or: Once upon a time, a man turned himself into a demon for the sake of his husband's soul. It's been a long time since then.

-

Demons don't really need to sleep, but Roier likes to do it, anyway. It's relaxing, and it reminds him of better times back when he was human and his husband wasn't... well.

Well.

Jaiden doesn't get it, but that's because she's never known what dreams are. Because demons don't sleep and, unlike Roier, she was born a demon. Her and Bobby both were, leaving Roier as the odd one out.

...That's fine! Their loss! Because sleep? Great. Dreams? Even better.

Because, in Roier's dreams, he sees him.

-

(They're in bed, because that was Roier's favorite place to be. He's on his back with his husband laying next to him tracing patterns into his shirt with one finger. Rain patters on the ceiling, and some leaks through into the kitchen and lands in a pot placed conspicuously in the middle of the floor. Their blankets are warm, and so are their hearts.)

-

Roier has been married for almost 500 years. His husband has been dead for 499 of those years, give or take a few months.

They were never legally married; that just wasn't something you did back then. Didn't matter, though, because they wouldn't have been able to afford a wedding even if they could get married.

They were farmers- well, Roier was a farmer. His husband just liked sitting and watching Roier work shirtless in the fields. He'd sit with a pitcher of water waiting by his side should Roier need it, and he'd watch shamelessly for hours at a time, and he was horrible.

And now he's dead.

-

But, see, the first thing Roier asked when arriving in Hell was whether or not the Devil was cool with gay marriage.

"Uh," said Jaiden- and this was their first real conversation post-demoning, okay? So she obviously wasn't as cool as she is now. "Maybe? I don't know. I'd have to ask?"

"Could you?" Roier had asked, freshly deceased and still bleeding from the temples where his horns had just finished growing in. "I'm expecting my husband."

"Right," Jaiden tensely replied. "Your husband."

"Yeah," Roier said, and he tried saying his husband's name, but it just. Wouldn't... what was it again?

-

But that's fine, being a demon is a pretty sweet gig. All Roier has to do is go up to the Mortal Realm and do a few jobs for a few witches, corrupt a few souls. In return, he gets badass magical abilities and immortality.

More importantly, he gets his husband's soul. As soon as he reincarnates back in the Mortal Realm, and as soon as he dies again, he goes to Hell with all of the memories from his previous life with Roier intact, and they finally get their happily ever after.

It's what he would've wanted. Hell might sound terrible, but it's no worse than the Mortal Realm, and its public transportation is actually better, somehow. The busses all run on time, and the subway is free.

More importantly, Roier's husband was the one collecting all those books on summoning demons and making deals with demons and communing with the Devil. Roier just... completed his work for him.

It's the least he could've done, and it was his last chance at seeing him again.

-

Fuck, but what was his name?

-

(They're in the fields, because that was Roier's husband's favorite place to be. Roier is shirtless and bent over a row of seeds that are going to grow up to be corn in a few months, and his husband is on the ground under the apple tree watching him shamelessly. It's sunny out, and there's the smell of smoke in the air.)

-

It's been 500 years since Roier's husband died, and Roier has spent that time trying to remember the name of his husband's killer.

Because, once upon a time, there was a farmer, and there was a witch. Ah, but witches were illegal, you see. They communed with the Devil, and they brought chaos into a world of order.

All Roier remembers is that the person who tied his husband to that pole was in all-white. Not a priest, just someone boring.

That same person was the one who lit the straw at Roier's husband's feet on fire. And they smiled doing so even as Roier dove towards the flames as if he could put them out with his bare hands.

It didn't work. Big surprise there.

-

"So the Devil's fine with you two getting married," Jaiden said after a few days of dealing with demonic bureaucracy, "but I have some bad news for you."

Roier, for the first time since Jaiden slit his throat and converted him, felt fear.

"What is it?" he asked.

She let out a breath, slow, and said, eventually, "Your husband's soul isn't here. He isn't in Heaven, either. Or in any of the other gods' realms."

Roier blinked. "What."

It was not a question.

She threw up her hands. "I don't know! It's like he just... disappeared!"

"Is that why I can't remember his name?" Roier asked. "His soul is fucking gone?"

His hands shook. Jaiden reached out and took them.

"We'll find him," she promised, kind despite her whole 'Is A Demon' thing. "Even if it takes five hundred years."

"Yeah, well, it won't," he scoffed. "I'm going to find him. He promised me a wedding."

-

Souls don't just die. They go to someplace that Roier has only ever heard of: Purgatory.

Once in Purgatory, souls get judged by the Eye of Justice. He asks them questions about their life, and they have to answer truthfully, or he'll feed them to his children.

There are a few options for what comes next.

One: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to move on to whatever afterlife they believe in.

Two: they pass the Eye of Justice's judgement and are allowed to reincarnate into another life.

Three: they fail the Eye of Justice's judgement and are forcibly sent to reincarnate into the life of a bug or a blade of grass or something else boring and tortuous.

Roier got to skip out on Purgatory entirely because he took the direct line to Hell. But maybe, just maybe, if he had died regularly, he could have seen his husband in Purgatory, and they could have reincarnated together.

...Ugh. Hindsight is a bitch.

-

(Roier is visiting his grandfather when the church bells ring.

"A witch!" he hears a woman scream, and his stomach fell right into his shoes.)

-

It's been 500 years, and Roier has gotten a bit of a reputation among modern witches for being one of the easier demons to work with. He'll help with their problems in exchange for information on a certain lost soul: if they hear from his husband's soul, they summon Roier. Or he'll help in exchange for some book recommendations for his son; Hell has many things, but it does not have a public library.

He isn't a particularly strong demon despite what his only angel friend, Etoiles, might say. Etoiles is just a silly little guy, don't listen to him!

-

(He never even got to say goodbye. They locked eyes as the flames rose, and Roier screamed his name one last time, and he hasn't been able to feel anything since.)

-

Jaiden was the first demon that Roier had ever met.

He was on the floor surrounded by the ashes that used to be his home. His husband's books were in charred tatters around him, but one managed to survive the fire. It was almost supernatural, but, like, yeah. Demon book, of course it was fireproof.

He was bleeding. He had offered his blood, and his soul, to the demon in exchange for his husband's life back.

She sat on the floor with him.

"I can't do that," she gently told him. "Demons can do a lot of things, but we can't perform miracles."

Roier's throat burned: smoke inhalation and grief.

"Oh," he said, small-sounding.

"But I can get his soul to Hell," she offered. "In exchange... you have to go to Hell."

His answer was immediate: "Yes."

She blinked. "I wasn't finished?"

"The answer is still 'Yes'. As long as I'm with him again, I don't care what happens to me."

"You'll have to turn your life over to Satan. You can't just go to Hell. That isn't how it works."

Roier shrugged. "That's fine."

Jaiden gawked for a moment before nodding and standing and extending her hand.

He took it.

And then he died.

-

But it's been 500 fucking years, and now Roier is being summoned by another witch for another deal. He'll probably have to help supply additional magic for some big important spell, that's basically all he's used for these days. He's more than a battery, thanks! He's a demon, he should be out, like, stealing souls and shit.

He goes, anyway, because he has to. If he doesn't, his contract is void, and he won't get to see his husband because he himself will be sent to Purgatory to be judged and, really, he does not want to deal with that. (The Eye of Judgement is fucking creepy, okay?)

There's the familiar pull at Roier's core, and the familiar blinding burst of light as he's yanked into the Mortal Realm, and the familiar smell of brimstone and evil that follows him wherever he goes outside of Hell.

The room is filled with blood red smoke as he appears- his trademark.

(The most important thing to a demon these days isn't evil, it's marketability.)

The witch in front of him, nothing more than a shadow hidden behind the smoke, coughs and wheezes and fans their hand in front of their face.

They're kneeled on the ground in front of a pentagram drawn in... what the fuck is this, strawberry jam?

Roier crouches and sticks a finger into one of the circle's markings. Careful not to break the circle, he pulls his finger out and licks the red stuff on it.

Shocked, he looks at the witch, and he asks, "Dude, what the fuck? Is this blood?"

What happened to chalk!?

The witch coughs at him indignantly. "I needed to make sure I got someone powerful."

Roier rolls his eyes and plops fully onto the ground, criss-cross applesauce. He wipes his blood-covered fingertip on his jeans. Newbies...

"Well, you got me," he says, humble to the core. (He may be a super evil demon now, but he isn't a dick.) "So... what's up? What do you need?"

The smoke in the room slowly starts dissipating, revealing the witch to be a man in what have to be the previous day's clothes. His head is still ducked, and his face is still hidden in his elbow as he coughs, but Roier could almost call him objectively handsome. Shame Roier's married, this guy would be fun to mess around with.

"I need to- fuck-"

The witch coughs one last time before finally managing to get a lungful of clean air. He raises his head, and Roier finally gets a look at his face, and-

"I need your help," the witch says, voice rough and rugged and absolutely heartbreaking. "I need to kill someone, and I need your help to do it."

"Okay," Roier agrees. He doesn't have a choice, being a summoned demon and all, but he doesn't think he could turn this witch down at all, because...

-

("Cellbit!" Roier screams.

He can see his face in his husband's glassy eyes, and then he sees nothing but the flames as they rise over Cellbit's head and drown him whole.)

-

The man with his husband's face frowns, suspicious.

"What," he asks, "just like that?"

Roier grins, fangs and all. "Just like that."

After all, he doesn't think he'll need any payment for this one.

He's finally found what he's been looking for.

#a.d.'s fics i suppose #a.d.'s fics i suppose. #spiderbit #guapoduo #bit of a weird format going on here but it felt like it worked okay? #real sporadic but so are this dude's thoughts

[bumblebeesfromvenus]

Mo ghràdh mòr 🩶

Johnny "Soap" MacTavish x reader

A/N: this was supposed to be cute and all fluff but um... I spiraled. It's angsty, with a happy ending, though!!! I love Johnny sm 🤧

~Fi 🐝

《Warnings》: Domestic angst, mw3 is NOT canon in this house, the TF141 being the absolute best bois, Simon being the best best friend, HAPPY ENDING 🥳

《Word count》: 1.9k

Please don't copy my work! I put a lot of effort and heart into the things I write.

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"Johnny?"

"Yeah, bonnie?" He was stood in front of the pantry, searching for something to snack on as his body slightly angled itself towards the sound of your voice while his eyes were dead set on finding some food before dinner.

He was met with silence on your end and quiet shuffling, his arm already pushing to close the pantry when he felt your arms wrap around his middle. A sweet and giddy smile graced his face as did a pink tint at the familiar feeling of your cheek pressed against his back.

"I love you, s'all." You mumbled, your arms stretching over his taught stomach.

"Oh, that's all, aye?" Johnny teased lightly, although the love seeping from his honeyed voice failed to portray the tone as he intended, the calloused pads of his fingers going to gently rub over your hands.

"Actually, it's everything. 'Cause you're my everything, and I love you so much."

The soft hum of your voice against his skin sent a pleasant tingly feeling down his spine, one that crawled its way into his chest and exploded like millions of fireworks.

"I love ye too, my bonnie lass." He said softly, giving your hands a gentle squeeze.

"But I wonder," Johnny began with that ever so familiar smirk ringing in his voice, "any reason yer no' sayin' it tae ma face?"

You grumbled something illegible into his back, and he could feel your brows scrunching together, which only made his cheshire like grin widen. He gently pried your hands from his stomach and turned around to face you before he wrapped your arms back around his middle.

Your chin was resting on his chest as you looked up at him with those beautiful eyes of yours, and everything in him melted.

"You weren't facing me, that's why." You replied sweetly as one of hid hands settled on your cheek, gently stroking the soft skin, while the other found its place on your hip.

"No other reason?" He grinned softly, watching you huff and pout at him.

"I can prove it."

"Yeah? And how would ye prove tha' tae-"

"I love you, Johnny MacTavish. With everything that I am. You might not be perfect, but you're perfect for me." You cut him off, looking into his ocean blue eyes, delivering your confession with every bit of sincerity you had in you.

His face fell, and with the way he turned red and his eyes got misty, you knew he didn't expect something like this.

You were joking around, teasing each other, and then you came along with your sincere love and dropped it on him like a bomb. And at that point Johnny just knew, he knew, it's not like you hadn't said the L-word before or that he ever doubted you, but this felt different. He sniffled and wiped at his nose before looking away from you.

"Steamin' Jesus, hen, ye cannae drop somethin' like tha' on an unsuspecting man." He cleared his throat, trying to discreetly wipe a few stray tears from his eyes. Your hand found his stubbled cheek and gently turned his face back to look at you.

"I mean every damn word." You smiled softly, his lips twitching upwards in a smile. Johnny tiped his head forward and slightly to the side, leaning into your touch and pressing a few small kisses to your palm.

"Ah don't deserve ye, bonnie." He mumbled into your hand with a sigh, nuzzling his face closer to your warm touch. Your brows shot together and you pinched the apple of his cheek.

"Don't say that!" You scolded him, an angry pout settling on your lips.

"Alright, alright." He chuckled softly, putting his hands up in mock surrender before uttering a quiet "c'mere." And pulling you into a loving embrace, held tightly to his chest.

"I love you too, mo ghràdh. I see ma future when I look into yer pretty eyes. It only beats for ye, ah swear." He said quietly, full of love and truth, moving your hand to rest right above his heart to feel the steady and comforting rythym of his blood pumping in his veins. You let out a sigh, having never felt safer than in his arms.

You stayed like this for a while, only until your limbs began to feel heavy and you gently sagged down to the floor with Johnny, backs pressed up against the pantry as you clung to each other still, not wanting to let go.

One arm was snaked around your middle, pulling you flush against his side while his other hand was loosely intertwined with yours as he gently fiddled with your fingers. Your head found its place onto his shoulder, reveling in the sensation of him beside you.

It was a comfortable and pleasant silence as the sun made its journey beyond the horizon, dipping the world into a dark indigo night speckled with the golden spots of the city lights. The lights in your kitchen dimmed, enough to see, but also so you could see outside your windows and watch life pass by for so many others all while all time had seemed to stop for both you and Johnny.

"I... don't mean to ruin the mood but.." you whispered, fearing that if you spoke any louder, your little slice of heaven could shatter beneath your fingertips. You could feel his head shift slightly, looking down at you presumably, which made you go on.

"I was so scared. I was so fucking scared, Johnny, I... I've never felt so helpless in my entire life. When I got that phone call, it was like... like getting my heart ripped out of my chest, and..." you took a breath after your shaky confession, keeping your gaze away from his. You knew that looking into his eyes at this very moment would break the dam, drowning you in a giant flood.

"I couldn't... I couldn't fix it. I had to watch. I don't even remember most of it, it's a big blurr of me wailing like I was the one that was hurt.. and then there were Simon and Kyle... they stopped me from physically falling apart, I think. I felt like I was dying and they both just held me so tight as if to stop the pain..." acid like tears were freely falling down your cheeks but you did everything in your power to keep your voice steady and finally tell Johnny what went on after his accident and the time he was in the hospital.

You glanced up at him when you felt his arms tighten around you, only to be met with tears of his own rolling down his face. You could practically see the lump in his throat from how hard he was trying to swallow it. But Johnny didn't say anything. He couldn't even if he wanted to, so he just held you as tightly as he could without breaking your bones and listened. "John put on his stupid Captain facade... I knew he was trying to be strong for our sake, for my sake, but I wanted to punch him so badly. And I... I was horrible to him that night, screaming obscenities and insults in his face, but he forgave it all." You swallowed, tasting the salt of your tears trickle down the back of your throat.

"Simon temporarily moved in with me. He insisted, there was no changing his mind," you laughed softly between sniffles at how stubborn Simon could be," he slept on that horrible couch for a month just so he could make sure I was okay. He was my rock, you know, just as Kyle and John were, but Simon... he's my best friend. And I wish I could've done something for him, too, he wouldn't even let me sleep on the couch when I offered him the bed and-" your chest was starting to shake from the sobs that racked through you as you clung to Johnny's sweatshirt.

"I'm sure ye did more for 'im than ye know." He croaked through his tightened throat, trying to push that horrid feeling in his chest down as he feared the thin string of composure he had left would snap and wreak a blizzard of emotions upon him.

He held you as you cried, hating the sound of your broken wails and sobs. His head fell back against the door of the pantry with a dull thump as he squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed once more.

Johnny almost hated your cries more than he did the heart wrenching things you'd confessed to him, he couldn't help but feel something cold pierce his heart everytime a new wrangled sound ripped from your throat. The pain he felt watching and hearing you in so much distress neared the agony and searing feeling he'd felt when he got shot.

He hated that it happened, why wasn't he more careful? He hated how much pain he'd caused you and his friends, although he knew it wasn't his fault. The both of you steadied your breathing, still sat on your kitchen floor, as your sobs were replaced by soft ragged breaths.

"I'm sorry." His words felt too loud as they broke through the silence, and he cringed slightly at how his voice sounded, all rough from the strain in his throat.

"Sorry for what?" You sniffled, wiping at your tears.

"I'm sorry for bein' so careless. And stupid. I-... I'm sorry for causin' ye all this pain.." when his voice broke halfway through the sentence, you quickly sat up on your knees and pulled him into a tight hug, his forehead falling onto your shoulder.

"It's not your fault, Johnny. Never, ever, ever is it your fault. It was horrible for you, too- shit, you're the one that got shot." You chuckled sadly, pulling a deep and pleasant rumble from his chest.

His hands were clutched to your waist as you were the one to hold him this time.

"I didn't mean to bring it up this suddenly, but it's just been weighing on me lately..." You mumbled, shifting around from the uncomfortable position you were in.

"S'okay, hen. I suppose it... sorta helps me when ye tell me what happened while I was... you know, out." He ended the sentence with a soft chuckle. You leaned back and looked at his face with a soft smile, gently brushing your thumb over the scar on his chin.

"I'll tell you if you think it'll help.. just not today. I'm exhausted." You giggled and that goofy smile of his was back in its rightful place.

"I think that's enough for one day, aye, lass?" He grinned sleepily, his eyes glazing over with sleep.

"Yeah, let's get to bed. I love you." You said softly, slightly shifting your weight forward to press a kiss to his lips. It was slow and soft, but so sweet it still made your spine tingle. So much emotion and passion was poured into that kiss, you could've sworn you were about to break into tears once more.

"I love ye more, mo ghràdh. More than you could ever know." Johnny replied, mumbling half of it against your mouth, impatient as he was.

"I love you even more than that." You grinned, challenging him a little to lighten the mood. He scoffed with a wide smirk, pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms tightly around your middle as he teasingly bumped his nose against yours.

"That's impossible."

🌑○○○○○○○○○○○○○○🤍○○○○○○○○○○○○○○○🌑

First full Johnny fic, wooooo!!

I'm working on something BIG for John, too 👀

I hope you liked it, MWAH <3

More of my works 💫

#bumblebeesfromvenus #johnny mactavish #john soap mactavish x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #johnny soap mactavish #john soap mactavish #soap mactavish #soap x reader #soap cod #john soap mctavish x reader #soap mw2 #cod x reader #mw2

[rottingpirate]

TF-141 w/ M!reader with a deep voice

Warnings: some suggestive themes but no smut, just fluff

Price

Your voice is deep. Somewhat like a baritone, but with a soft twist to it, like melted butter.

Deep like the feeling of looking into vast waters below you in a lonely ocean. It rumbled in the chest and tested the foundations of your ribs.

He first got scared of your voice a little after you were recruited into 141. It was 0500 and you were making coffee, so you also decided to make your Captain a cup as well.  He seemed to be so focused, too focused to not notice you walk in.

“Mornin, Captain" Your voice was rough and scratchy in the morning. Scared the shit out of him.

Called you a 'Fuckin demon' after muttering a thank you

 Would be surprised, especially if you don't seem like a person with a voice like that

Finds it relaxing when you read books to him

Your laugh and giggles make his heart flutter

Always bites back a laugh when you, Soap and/or Gaz decide to pull pranks on other people

Once dressing up as a grim reaper, while yelling at Ghost that it's his time to go or dressing up as some scary monsters and scaring the rookies

Soap

He thinks your voice is hot

Finds himself falling in love with your voice

Makes you read books and repeat stuff to him. 

“I love you” “again” “I love you” “again” "I said it 50 times already." "So? Again." “I love you, Johnny” goner

Will make you say some random words just for fun

"Bubbles" "Cupcakes" "Defenestration" "Kerfuffle"

If you have an accent then he loves it even more

Gets a mini heart attack everytime you creep behind him and whisper in his ear

Doesn't forgive you for the rest of the day

One time he let out a super high pitched scream. His body jerked in fear and he punched you right in the gut. He was very embarassed after that.

Loves pulling pranks with you

Be it dressing up or just creeping up on others and scaring the living hell out of them

Price would ground you two if he could

Ghost

His voice is deep, so he wasn't exactly startled when he first heard you

That was the first time he heard that deep voice, sure he had heard scary deep voices before, but there was something in this one that made it different, it had a calming tone instead of a threatening one.

Your voice is not that kind of deep. It flows like honey, so sweet. It's the definition of calm and collected

Lowkey records while you talk, so that he can listen to your calming voice

It actually helps him sleep

Finds you quite intimitading when you’re mad and the voice makes it 100% scarier

You might not be able to get him scared, but you can get him flustered

Finds your groans and whimpers hellishly hot

Really felt like his entire self just crumbled

If you're insecure about your voice, them he's gonna comfort you and try to show you how awesome it is

Practically forces you to love it too

Gaz

What. The fuck. Was that.

It felt like an utmost electrical shock

He was just cleaning his gun one day when someone started talking in his ear with this sinister evil devil voice

Felt like someone visited him and told him secrets he'd rather not hear

Really wants to put a damn collar bell on you so that he hears you coming

Starts calling you "Batman" And that he's your Robin

Ah shit, your voice should be illegal

Your morning voice sends him to cloud nine

But he also finds it hella cool

He would pay some real money for you to read the dictionary into his ear

He just finds it so soothing and relaxing when you're not mad

When you're mad, then he's terrified of your demonic voice

#call of duty modern warfare ii #cod mw2 #john price #john soap mactavish #simon ghost riley #kyle gaz garrick #cod x male reader #x male reader #x reader

[arctophyllax]

Not enough people talk about Dammon and the raw potential of his physical strength

Dammon x Tav/Reader (but really just reader) | 18+

NSFW further down, don’t take chances.

We know he’s strong. Shamefully so. It should honestly be illegal how little we talk about it.

Knowing that he’s strong is one thing, but first times, first touches, first experiences are a whole different story.

When he takes your hand you get your first taste: his hands are rough and calloused from daily labour and hard work. His strength evident in how he holds your hand, and yet, he’s unbelievably gentle with you.

The first time you hug, you feel his arms around you, his tail curling around your leg or waist, his chest against yours—everything about the hug is breathtaking. If not the gesture, then the crushing hold he has on you. It’s not quite rough enough to actually hurt you, but he makes it no secret that he’s possessive and protective of you. You can feel his muscles flex under your fingers when you wrap your arms around him and curl your fingers into the back of his shirt, when you hold onto his shoulders, or when you wrap your hands around his upper arms.

He might start wrapping an arm around your waist whenever you’re nearby, or a tail around your wrist when you try to leave before he wants to let you leave.

When you have sex with him for the first time, he’s gentle at first. Especially if you tell him that he’s your first. He would take his sweet time with you, let you explore his, possibly unfamiliar, infernal features.

Your hands trailing over bumps and ridges on his upper body and legs, he would let you take control for now, let you look and touch—and if you decide to suck him off he’ll be the happiest man in Faerûn.

It would take a lot of restraint for him not to thrust his hips up into your throat when he feels your mouth around his cock, but he has enough self control to give you mercy for now.

He would return the favour, go down on you, pleasure you with his mouth as well. He would have a grip on your thighs that makes you see stars. If you try to move, he wouldn’t let you. There’s no way in hell that this wouldn’t leave bruises, but that would only make it better. This man is intent on marking what’s his.

He wouldn’t stop after you cum once. He would keep going and perhaps start pushing two fingers into you, careful not to hurt you, but once you relax around his fingers and get used to them, he would thrust his fingers into you rather roughly and it wouldn’t take him long to make you cum for the second time.

After ample preparation, he would pull you close against him by your legs, both of you naked and his cock rock hard against your pelvis. He would ask if you’re ready before pushing it in with one smooth push.

He wouldn’t give you too much time to adjust—wouldn’t have to, you were prepared well and drenched with desperation. His thrusts wouldn’t be particularly fast, but they’d be strong and forceful. And scarily accurate.

The second he finds your spot once he would keep on hitting it, rarely ever missing, reducing you to a moaning mess.

He wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off you, grabbing your thighs or your waist, tail always wrapped around you as well. His lips would be occupied with yours or with your neck, kisses and gentle bites, he would definitely leave his mark on you, in places that are harder to hide than what it’s worth.

You would come to his forge a few days after. Noticing the marks he left on your neck, he would give you a wink and a sly smirk. Perhaps some of your companions would notice, maybe even comment on it later on.

He’s so much more than the nice-boy-next-door.

He may be gentle at first but…

He’s feral if you let him be.

And if he doesn’t have the potential to fold you in half, then no one does.

#he’s feral and primal and no one can convince me otherwise #of all the tieflings he’s the kinkiest to me #he doesn’t only hammer steel does he #give him the attention he deserves #dammon #bg3 dammon #dammon x reader #dammon x tav #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3

[perpetualexistence]

Slumbering Pride

Alenoah Week Day 7: Free Day! (Demon AU)

Alejandro is finally, finally close to beating José at something. He's in his junior year, and universities are already scouting him out thanks to his name, his academic prowess, and his athletic prowess.

They did the same for José when he was about to graduate. The difference is he had five schools attempt to recruit him.

Alejandro has six.

José can't let this stand. If Alejandro officially gets six offers, then he'll know José isn't perfect. He'll start trying harder to beat José in things. And worse, he might actually win if he's proven himself capable of it.

José needs to do something about it, so he comes to the most obvious solution.

He summons a demon.

(Rest under read more because it's long)

Demons are an open secret. They were confirmed to be real a while back, though are mostly bound by the deals they must make in order to maintain a foothold on the human realm. An unbound demon is a dangerous thing, and often happens if the person making the deal is tricked into breaking their side of it.

Demons are known to do everything possible to do this, or at least cause havoc in whatever capacity their bounds enable them to. It's forbidden and illegal for anyone to summon one without proper qualifications. (There's still some summonings that do happen after all, demons are quite useful so long as you're careful).

Still, humans are naturally curious creatures, and have found multiple ways of spreading this knowledge as best as they can. Demon summoning is uncommon, but it still happens. So much that children are taught what to do if they believe they're encountering a demon.

Most sane people know better than to risk entering any contract with a demon. But there are always those desperate enough, or stupid enough, to try.

Getting his hands on a book on demon summoning is child's play for someone with José's family connections. He doesn't care what kind of demon he summons, so long as he summons one that will do the job he wants. He can sweet talk them into giving him the best deal possible just as he sweet talks anyone else.

As he finishes the summoning, his limbs grow heavier. It is constant agony to keep himself standing. His thoughts grow fuzzy as he struggles to remember what he was so focused on. He isn't quite sure why he bothers.

It would be much easier to sit down and rest. What was he so worried about, again? It couldn't have been so important if he's forgotten. His eyes droop to a close as he lets out a sigh of relief he had been holding back for so, so long.

"Wow, you're seriously pathetic if you're this affected by my summoning."

José snapped out of his stupor to see a teenager staring back at him. He was a couple of inches shorter than José and could only be described as a breathing fashion disaster.

José could have stopped there, but he couldn't ignore the horns atop the demon's head, the wings pressed against his back, the tail lightly tapping the ground. His arms were folded as he tapped his clawed foot impatiently.

José was expecting something much more imposing than...this. He'd laugh if had less control of himself.

"I would like to make a deal with you-"

"Could have fooled me with your craiglist ad." Noah said, glancing at the circle underneath him. "It's so generic it screams 'I'm not going to put you in a van and drive you to an undisclosed location, I promise.'"

José could feel a headache coming on. "I am going to make a deal with you, demonio." He needed to regain control of this conversation, fast.

"Never said I wouldn't make one. What do you want?"

"I would like for you to stop my brother from getting too far ahead in life. At the very least, I want to make sure that he can never surpass me. In any way. Can you do that?"

"Depends on what I get in return."

The two end up negotiating until they settle on a deal: Noah makes sure that Alejandro can never surpass José, and in return Noah gets to take his ability to dream. José can do without a few dreamless nights.

That's how Alejandro finds himself waking up in the morning with a demon that was only as tall as halfway up his knee staring at him from the foot of his bed.

Alejandro instinctively kicks the smaller boy out of panic, sending a very unhappy demon crashing into a wall. When they've both recovered, Noah explains exactly what's going on.

He's here to pretty much haunt and sabotage Alejandro, José's the one who sent him because he's a dick, and this is just going to be their life now.

After Alejandro processes the fact that his brother truly hates him this much as to risk both of their lives to a demon, he asks why Noah would bother to tell him all of this. He doesn't say it out loud, but he knows that a demon could absolutely make his life a living hell. He's expecting insidious manipulations and life threatening accidents.

And this demon is making any sabotage more difficult by confessing that he's going to sabotage Alejandro? Something isn't adding up.

That's when Noah points out the big flaw in Jose's brilliant plan.

Because he hadn't been concerned about what kind of demon he summoned, he pretty much set up a job posting for a demon from any of the seven sins to snatch. Noah just happened to get there first.

So what does José get for not being specific?

A sloth demon.

Noah plans to do the bare minimum of what's required for his job. He doesn't care to bother with the effort of lying to Alejandro about his purpose here. The only reason he bothered to take this job in the first place is because the human realm has two things that the demon realm doesn't: Decent places to nap, and good books.

The only thing he hadn't counted on is how small he'd end up being once bonded with Alejandro. His size is dependent on the amount of sloth Alejandro has. The teen who gives it his all in every activity he does.

Noah's got his work cut out for him.

Alejandro tries seeing if he can use his own silver tongue to have Noah quit the job before he gets started, but with no luck. Noah doesn't feel like leaving. And he's not about to break the deal on his side because then he be forced back into the demon realm and unable to return unless directly summoned.

Alejandro would very much like to try just trapping the demon somewhere, then go to his brother to confront him about doing this. But he knows better than to act before fully knowing what Noah is capable of. And he wouldn't be surprised if his brother tried to gaslight him into thinking Noah wasn't real. He still doesn't quite believe it himself.

He does start to believe that having Noah around will be a continuous little nightmare. He's constantly offering snide remarks. He keeps trying to convince Alejandro to stop trying so hard and just be lazy.

Alejandro's not as aggravated as the attempt than he is at the fact that there's zero tact to it. Noah isn't even TRYING to be subtle. He could think of a thousand ways to do Noah's job better, except telling him that would then make Alejandro's life worse.

It gets to the point where he's so upset he just throws a pillow at Noah. The demon squawks as he gets hit, and Alejandro gets immense satisfaction from this. Alejandro knows this is a terrible idea, but he's angry at this whole situation and needs to take it out on somebody. Might as well do it on the one successfully set him off.

Alejandro gets his karma for snapping at Noah when he goes to sleep.

His dream starts off as he would expect it to. Until suddenly he finds something knocked against his back. He finds himself pinned to his stomach, and when he struggles to get out from under it, he finds the tip of a very familiar tail at a much larger scale pressing down on him.

"I thought 'Burromuertos conquer whatever they set their minds to'. We're in your mind. So get up."

Alejandro can feel Noah's smirk though he can't see it. He refuses to give Noah the satisfaction of admitting defeat and continues to fight against the tail.

Tears are not pricking his eyes as he's made to feel insignificant in the last safe place that was truly his.

As he can't feel tired in his dream, he continues to struggle. Noah admits that Alejandro's probably the most stubborn human he's ever met.

Alejandro snaps that he's a Burromuerto, and he does not quit. He cannot, and will not quit. Ever. No matter the competition, no matter the cost. Noah's just another obstacle in his way. But he will beat his brother in something for once in his life.

He does his best to hide the desperation in his need to believe that this is true. He's hidden it well in the past, but Noah is a perceptive sort and hears it anyways.

Noah asks what could type of win could possibly be so important that it was worth the risk of his brother summoning a demon on him.

"I'm about to beat him in the amount of colleges offering me admissions by one." Alejandro gloated, pride swelling in his chest.

The tail pressing down on him suddenly reached underneath him, and flipped him over like he was a roach. He looked up to see Noah's face free of apathy for the first time. Instead, it was replaced with one of...pity.

"You can't seriously be proud of that."

Alejandro grit his teeth. "I am."

"You have to know how that sounds, right?"

"Please do enlighten me about what you think that sounds like."

"It sounds pathetic! You're going above and beyond and you're seriously caught up in something as stupid as one-upping your brother?"

"Don't you dare try to act as if you know any better tú hijo de su puta madre," Alejandro snarled, the tears returning to his eyes. "I don't care what you are. You know nothing about me and my family. You can say and do whatever you like but I will not cow to any of your attempts to degrade me." His snarl turned into something of a deranged chuckle. "Do your worst. This is nothing new. I will still come out on top and grind you into dust."

Noah was silent for a long time. As he started to move his mouth to speak, Alejandro found himself snapping awake. He looked around to see Noah still in his room. He's looking at him with incredibly impassive indifference. Alejandro won't see anything else in his gaze. At least the demon was smart enough not to try running his mouth again.

Alejandro stormed off so he could grab a book to study while he ate breakfast.

Noah mostly stays out of Alejandro's way, but Alejandro can feel him watching. He doesn't care where Noah scampers off to during the day. He refuses to acknowledge the little monster.

He throws himself deep into studying. He's spending more time awake so he can study and avoid having to fall asleep. Beauty sleep be damned, he does not want to deal with Noah again.

When he does sleep, he dreams. He can always feel a looming presence behind him, and he says nothing of it.

He does his best to hide his exhaustion from the rest of his family. José notices and pounces on it. Alejandro continues to deny it, because he will not give his brother the satisfaction of having won yet another battle.

All the stress and exhaustion comes to a head after a few nights. Alejandro hopes for a dreamless night, and is instead greeted by a nightmare.

He's attending one of his parent's many galas, and his outfit is atrocious. He's sweating profusely. His hair is plastered to his face. Try as he might, it refuses to go back into place. He's a truly unforgiveable sight. He tries to sneak off so he can find something else to change into. Despite his appearance, no one is paying any attention to him. He finds out why as he goes through a guest.

He's running as fast as he can now. He's going through so many people, everything is blurring together. It all comes to a halt as he crashes into a wall he can't see. As he falls backwards, he sees that he's now in a terrarium.

Outside, his much larger brother and parents are talking to each other. Alejandro can't make out what they're saying, but he can see them laughing. He gets up and bangs on one of the walls. His brother flicks his gaze towards his little brother.

Finally, a break. He know Jose hates him, but he'd never truly hurt Alejandro. Alejandro knows this. He has to believe this. Jose could hurt him physically, mentally, and emotionally, but even he wouldn't leave Alejandro to die.

He'd just deliver a potential vehicle of death to Alejandro's doorstep, is all.

Their parents are gone, and it's just him and Jose now.

"Relájate, hermanito," Jose cooes as if he's talking to an infant, "Nadie espera que seas más de lo que eres. ¡Deberías estar agradecido de haber estado cerca de una fracción de mis logros! Sabes exactamente lo que te mereces por eso, ¿no?"

Jose lifts the lid of the terrarium up. He reaches a massive hand down towards Alejandro. Alejandro wants to climb up and away, but the walls are too smooth. They're closing in. All that there is is the hand, ready to grab him, crush him, throttle him, any variety of things.

He can do nothing to stop it. He was a fool for ever thinking he could. He closes his eyes shut in an instinctive fear he can't hold back anymore. He's hoping he can bring himself to fight. He's silently begging for his brother to be merciful enough to make it quick.

The hand that grabs him is much more gentle than he expects. He struggles to be free, but the grip is tight enough to stop much movement. There is no squeeze. It is weight without malice, and cool to the touch.

He feels something the size of a tree trunk gently brush his hair away from his face. He lets out a gasp of air he had been craving for far too long. He tries to open his eyes. He feels the tears sweat from earlier is sticking his eyelids shut. He shudders. His arms are pinned, so he can't move to fix wipe his eyes.

Suddenly, he's being moved higher and higher. He hears steady flapping from above. The pace is slow enough to where the wind is just a gentle breeze soothing his clammy skin.

He feels his captor descending, and he's unceremoniously dropped to the ground. He wipes his eyes and stands up. He's dressed to the nines. He sees other figures roaming about. He can see how they sneak a glance his way, then happily chitter amongst themselves.

"Mijo, no te quedes ahí parado," his mother says as she suddenly slips through the crowd. This is how he remembers this is a dream. His mother would never refer to him so colloquially, "Entra, tu juramento está por comenzar."

"Un momento, madre. Hay algo que debo hacer primero."

She clucks her tongue, another informal mark of unreality, and leaves him be.

Alejandro turned around, but all he could see were faceless guests.

"You can come out. I know you're here." Alejandro felt the ground behind him quake slightly, and turned to look up at Noah.

"Sure you want to waste your time with me? The dream isn't going to last forever."

"What did you do?"

"Took you out of your own nightmare. Brought you into one of José's dreams. And before you throw a fit, this is one he already let me have. He's nowhere here."

"Alright, that brings me to my next question. Why?"

"Is it really so hard to believe I did something out of the goodness of my miserable excuse of a heart?"

"Sí."

"You're ridiculous," Noah groaned, rolling his eyes. "Fine, I did it because it's easier to get you sleeping if you actually want to sleep. Happy with that answer? Or do you want me to pull out my five step plan for sabotaging you?"

"Well, a little presentation would go a long way~" Alejandro teased. He was finally comfortable enough to find his own voice again.

"And congratulations, you've made me regret doing anything. I'm going back to insulting you the second you wake up."

"You can try, and it still won't work."

"It will. Now go on, you've got the rest of this dream and that's it."

Alejandro left Noah to go explore the rest of the ceremony of achieving the same position of his father as a Spanish ambassador.

He wakes up to find a small Noah clinging onto his chest. The demon had somehow managed to wriggle his way under one of Alejandro's arms and was using it as a blanket. He's still fast asleep. Alejandro tests how asleep by moving his arm slightly. Noah clings tighter to the arm, but otherwise doesn't stir.

Alejandro could just stand up. That would definitely force the smaller boy awake. ...But, as loathe as he is to admit, Noah did help him. So, possibly for the first time in his life, he decides to sleep in rather than wake up for his daily morning routine.

Noah grows a few inches, matching the height of Alejandro's knee, during their nap.

The two are still antagonistic towards each other, but it's nowhere near as bad as when they first met. Alejandro lords over Noah in the waking world, and Noah returns the favor in the dreaming. There is one added wrinkle, though.

Thanks to Alejandro's moment of weakness, Noah has gained the ability force Alejandro into taking a nap. It can only happen when he's already feeling tired, whether physically or mentally thanks to studying, or if he's doing a mindless task.

It's some of the best sleep Alejandro has ever had.

It aggravates him to no end.

When Noah isn't trying to convince Alejandro to give up on his dreams, he's either sleeping, or is reading one of the many books in the Burromuerto library if that's where Alejandro has decided to study.

Alejandro notices Noah struggling when he tries to get books to read due to his size. He offers to grab a book for Noah to bribe him into leaving Alejandro alone for this study session. Noah immediately starts taking advantage of this by questioning Alejandro about what kinds of books he has. Noah might as well get a book based on its contents rather than its weight.

The two start getting into book recommendations. Alejandro sweetens the deal by gifting Noah one of the books he no longer reads to get peace for as long as it takes for Noah to read the book. Noah accepts immediately and will cling to the book with his entire body when Alejandro tries to help him lift the book.

No. This is Noah's book now. No one else is allowed to touch it.

He's so possessive because human things are hard to come by in the demon realm. Only greed demons are able to carry human things back to the demon realm, so they've of course got a monopoly of jacked up prices. The only exception is if a demon properly owns a human thing. Or in this case, is gifted one.

So yeah, Noah will agree to let Alejandro touch it to carry it, but he's watching that thing like a hawk.

A few weeks pass like this. Eventually, José butts his way into Alejandro's life as he usually does. He gloats that their parents are planning to host a party for José to start making connections now as he's properly starting on his journey to becoming an ambassador.

The second he's gone, Noah and Alejandro start bonding by shit talking José.

Alejandro justifies trying so hard so that he can finally one up José. It's why he won't give in to sloth. Nothing good ever comes of doing nothing. Besides, it's one of the weakest of the sins, so it will be easy enough to overcome.

Noah argues that sloth isn't as terrible as Alejandro makes it out to be. It means actually getting rest when everything is overwhelming rather than chugging on through to crash and burn later. Taking a step back and doing nothing can lead to new ideas popping up because there is no longer stress preventing them. Hell, some innovation comes from humans being lazy and wanting a better way to do things.

Like any of the other sins, it's only bad when done in excess. And it can be worse than just being lazy. Having too much sloth means having too much apathy. Horrible people get away with atrocities when enough people are too lazy to do anything about it. It means nothing changes because nobody wants to change.

Noah reveals that underestimating sloth is exactly how José has absolutely screwed himself. José has given up his ability to dream. He thinks the only definition of that are his literal dreams at night, and that's what Noah has been feeding on so far.

They also mean his dreams about being an ambassador. His dreams of more. Dreams are heavily linked with desire and ambition. By the time Noah's done with him, José will be nothing more than a walking husk. He'll do the bare minimum needed to survive, but nothing more. Knowing he should long for something else but being unable to.

The only reason he hasn't done so immediately is if he does take it fully, it means his deal would be over, and no more being in the human realm.

This does remind Alejandro that he is having a casual conversation with a demon. Despite their current pleasantries, it would be a terrible thing to watch Noah get more creative in his interpretations of his deal with José. It's safer to keep him entertained than to let his mind wander.

It doesn't hurt that entertaining Noah has led to riveting conversation.

Still, he comes up with an idea to control Noah, and get himself some much deserved revenge. He asks if he could actually make a deal with Noah to get back at José.

Unfortunately Noah can't. Not because he doesn't want to. He's got no issues with taking José down a peg. He's just unable to make a deal with more than one human at a time. There are conflict of interest rules in place. Even if there weren't, he's still a teenager. He's not powerful enough to make multiple deals at a time yet.

But he knows a demon who'd be willing to help out.

Her name's Eva. She's a wrath demon. She's pretty straightforward. Tell her exactly what you want, and she won't try to screw with you so long as you don't do the same to her.

Alejandro is concerned about what her price would be, but he isn't going to say that directly. Instead, he comes up with a different plan to solve this in a way better than his brother had.

He asks about what kinds of things that Eva likes. Noah did mention that human objects were more difficult to come by in the demon world, yes? Alejandro could give something concrete rather than abstract. Everyone wins.

Noah doesn't say anything, but Alejandro can tell that Noah is impressed that he remembered something Noah had said. He must not have much chance to show off his knowledge in the demon realm.

Noah tells him that she likes music. All she's been able to scavenge is a very old, shitty MP3. Phones are more easy to come by, but with no service they're practically worthless. Besides, Eva's chill when she's not fully committing her job.

His only condition is Alejandro's going to have to agree to forget how to summon Eva after they've done the ritual. Eva doesn't like just anybody summoning her, and Noah respects that enough to not share it with others without her permission.

Alejandro agrees.

When the final word is spoken, he waits. And waits. and waits. It feels like he's been waiting for at least an hour. He's going to tap a hole in the floor with anticipation at this rate.

It can't be taking this long. The longer he waits, the longer José gets to prance around consequence-free. He deserves no peace for what he's put Alejandro through. His lips curl in disgust at the thought of his brother getting rewarded for all of his misdeeds. He wants to call his brother over, right here, right now. Just so he can throttle José himself-

"What do you want?" asked the demon who now stood in front of him. Her arms were crossed, and she looked annoyed to even be looking at him. Alejandro had to shake his head to head to let go of the pent-up rage he had suddenly developed.

"Hey iron woman." Noah commented from his current perch on a nearby bookshelf. Eva turned her attention away from Alejandro to see the smaller demon.

"Noah." Eva commented as she acknowledged him with a nod. Noah's face was still set with apathy, and Eva's with annoyance.

Yet Noah was wrapping his tail around his leg to prevent it from wagging as furiously as Eva's was.

"So, what do you want?" Eva repeated. The edge to her tone was dulled this time.

"I would like to make a deal with you. My brother is going to be at the center of a gala recently. I know he doesn't think as highly of others as he will pretend, so I would just like your help in making him more...honest about his true feelings." Noah sighed at this answer.

"You want a truth spell?" Eva asked. She turned to pay attention to Noah before Alejandro could form a response. "Why would you summon me for this?"

"He wants you to make his brother throw the rage fit to end all rage fits in front of an international audience."

"Then why didn't he just say that?"

"Because he doesn't know how to follow instructions."

"Then why'd you bring me a stupid one?" Eva asked Noah.

Alejandro had to bite his lip to stop himself from interrupting. He was being both ignored and insulted. He couldn't let this be his impression on anybody.

However, Noah knew this demon, while he did not. She clearly valued Noah's opinion over his own, so countering his opinion now would only serve to shut her off further from responding to the Spaniard.

"He has his moments," Noah replied, "Plus, you're going to like what he has to offer."

"Well?" Eva asked, turning her attention back to Alejandro.

"As Noah so tactfully implied, I do plan to offer a fair price," Alejandro said, glad to have control of the conversation again. He pulled out a small device he'd performed quite a bit of research to get his hands on. "I've heard that you are in need of more music. I have managed to find a top of the line mp3 player-"

"How many songs?" Eva interrupted. She was looking directly at Alejandro now.

"If I had to guess? A little over 20,000."

Eva's tail immediately dropped. He could see her mind move from processing that number, to grappling it, to understanding it. Her eyes shone with anticipation that she didn't bother to hide. Her tail was practically causing a minor tornado. Her hands were half clenched and shaking as if she was five seconds away from snatching the prized jewel Alejandro held in his hands.

"Ice Nine Kills."

"Hm?"

"Ice Nine Kills. Silver Scream 2: Welcome to Horrorwood. We're moving up from there. Now gimme."

"Well, hold on. We still need to work out some of the finer details-"

"Fine, sure, we have the deal, whatever you want now give it to me."

Alejandro had to hide the smirk that was threatening to form on his face. He had no idea his offer would work this perfectly. All he had to do was seal-

"Eva!" Noah snapped. "You just offered a human 'whatever they want' in a deal."

"...Oh." Eva realized.

"Yeah, 'oh'." Noah glanced at Alejandro. "And don't think I didn't see that look in your eyes. I'm proctoring your deal."

"But-" both Eva and Alejandro tried to argue.

"It's happening."

With that, the two negotiated for a fair deal. Eva could stay in the human realm specifically to download as many songs as she wanted for her mp3 player, and to help Alejandro in his revenge. After that, she'd go back, and the mp3 player would be hers forever.

They both agree to it, and the deal is set. Noah and Eva spend some time catching up while Eva searches for music. Noah insists on catching up in private, which he obliges. After two failed attempts to eavesdrop.

The three of them plan exactly how to best humiliate José. Alejandro hadn't known quite what to expect with Eva, but he was pleasantly surprised. Her ideas were simple, direct, and brutal. They contrasted with Alejandro and Noah's more elaborate plans until they came to a consensus.

The party happens, and everything is set in place. Eva is invisible to everyone else, and is preparing elsewhere. Alejandro just needs to stay away from his brother so he doesn't realize something is amiss with Noah.

Alejandro knows that this is the perfect time to put himself out there. Especially since José's reputation is about to be shattered. He'll be remembered as the good Burromuerto this time around. Talking comes as second nature to him. All he has to do is talk, and just ignore Noah.

Noah, who's not having a good time at this party. Despite being invisible, his eyes are darting around everywhere as if they could see him. Thanks to being invisible, he's constantly having to avoid feet stepping on him. He's sticking as closely as he can to Alejandro, though he's not commenting on it at all.

Alejandro excuses himself to go to a more quiet part of the mansion forbidden to guests. Noah's visibly more relaxed as they get farther away from the crowd. But he does ask what Alejandro's doing.

Alejandro attempts to lie about being the one who needed space, but Noah shuts him down since he could see Alejandro lighting up when he talked to others. Alejandro will confess to noticing Noah and leaving since he knew Noah would follow. Their new partnership won't do well if one of them is in a near state of panic.

...Consider it returning the favor for the nightmare, if that helps.

Noah's quiet as he recognizes that this human is showing the closest thing to compassion that he can muster. He wants to say something, but the time of José's humiliation is nearing, and he wants to be there to see it. Alejandro makes his way back inside. He keeps Noah calm in the crowd by having him perch on his shoulder, and quietly making fun of the guests as they pass.

Eventually, José's breakdown begins. It works gloriously. He's swearing at other ambassadors. He's throwing things. At one point he's about to let loose of of the skeletons in the Burromuerto's family closet, but he's dragged away before he can. Alejandro has to hide his laughter, though Noah has no need to.

Unfortunately, it means that Noah has broken the deal on his end because he's intentionally let Alejandro beat Jose in something: not causing an international scandal. He gets pulled back to the demon realm and as punishment, can't answer any summons for at least a year unless it's for him specifically.

Alejandro's heartbroken to have Noah ripped away from him. He'd grown rather fond of having the demon around. He can't ask Eva for more help because she disappeared once José's scandal ended. He tries to find the book José used to summon Noah, but it was shredded. José was smart enough to guess that a demon had something to do with his irrational behavior.

Alejandro spends the next few weeks obsessing over finding the right summoning circle. His grades are slipping the tiniest amount, and he can't bring himself to care. He forces himself to sleep. He hopes that will somehow increase his chances of finding Noah. They feel empty without Noah to watch. He has no idea how to find one for Noah specifically, though he certainly does try. He settles for the next best thing: trying a generic summoning circle with the first gift Alejandro gave him as a conduit. Maybe he could at least find a demon who'd be willing to make a deal to help him get in touch with Noah.

This is incredibly dangerous and stupid, but the risk is worth it.

His stomach growls as he finishes the circle. He's been so focused on his work. He doesn't remember the last time he's eaten. He could leave to grab a quick bite-

No, no. He knows what this is. These thoughts aren't his. They can't be Noah's either. Noah's never cared much for-

stuffing his face until he can take no more. His body is a temple, and it deserves to be lavished. He's salivating, and must force himself not to run for the kitchen.

He's rewarded for his discipline with a large, blond demon who calls himself Owen.

He explains the situation to Owen, but no sooner does he utter Noah's name that Owen lights up.

"Ooooh, YOU'RE AL!!!"

Owen immediately starts going on about how Noah's his best friend. Which confuses Alejandro. He'd assumed Eva was Noah's best friend. She was stoic, blunt, and had common sense. She made sense.

This oaf with no volume control did not.

Owen keeps going on regardless of Alejandro's thought process. He completely outs Noah as being a mess thinking he'd never see Alejandro again. Noah was sleeping even harder than was normal for him, he was talking about Alejandro a lot you name it!

So of course Owen will be happy to get the two connected again!

Owen does want to give Alejandro Noah's summoning circle/number, but Alejandro did summon him so it does have to be some kind of deal. Uh...What's the nearest snack he's got? Owen'll take that.

He shares the information, then immediately leaves to go tell his little buddy that Alejandro plans to summon him.

Alejandro changes the circle to summon Noah with fervor.

When Alejandro summons Noah he feels as if every worry he's ever had has melted away. He wants to lay his head on Noah's lap and look up at him. He wants to reach up and tease his fingers through Noah's hair. He wants to trick Noah into leaning down so they can share a kiss and shift to nuzzling together. No more fighting to be on top. Just this once.

They're both blushing when Noah does get summoned because uh they both felt THAT. Neither of them meant that to be the way to confess but uh, whoops.

The two make a deal: "I'll help you get revenge on Jose until you're satisfied (knowing that with Alejandro, he never will be), and you'll let me stay in the human realm for as long as I want."

"Change that to for as long as I live."

"Still don't trust me?"

"I have to put some limits on you mi gatito travioso. Besides, now I know you have an investment in keeping me alive."

"You're terrible."

"Says the demon."

There are many ways to seal a deal with a demon.

They seal this one with a kiss.

#it's DONE #6k words good god #and a few days late too #but shhhhh #the point is it's finally done! #Maybe a bit rushed at the end but I needed this completed at this point #I'm still pretty happy with it #Noah deserves to be the demon as a treat #total drama #total drama au #total drama noah #total drama alejandro #td alejandro #td noah #alenoah #total drama alenoah #alenoah week #alenoah week 2024 #alenoahweek2024 #Slumbering Pride #Giant/tiny #total drama giant/tiny #sfw giant/tiny #perp fanfic

[precious-little-scoundrel]

IM SORRY DID U SAY YOURE WORKING ON A FIC ABOUT “COP BIG DADDY ELVIS”?!?- please tell us more because this sounds like the greatest thing ever 😭

I did, Mon ami, I did indeed…welcome to the demented 2009, sweaty and non famous cop AU that @eliseinmemphis and myself cooked up in our feral yearnings one night.

Edit: it’s here

Allow me to lay a bit of the setting for us all, and maybe even throw in a few lines from the draft below.

Life is insular when you’ve been born and raised in a trailer park. A little El Paso suburb was never a thriving metropolis, what with its gas stations and dollar stores on the way to nothingness in the desert, but the recession didn’t help none. Your dreams of buying a car that might actually make it above 120 mph and not guzzle your wages in gas is a far off dream when you learn from officer Presley that your entrepreneuring father has been incarnated for racketeering across in Juarez. It’s a shame, a damn shame but it hardly throws a wrench in your life, you were already used to making it however you could. When workin’ at the trucker’s club turns into something a lil more illegal and Elvis has his morning waffle ruined by Joe Esposito yacking about the powers of your pink tongue…he feels a little responsible for leaving you without a father figure. He’s got top notch swamp coolers in his trailer, plenty of food and tiger figurines out front -and he’s got an interest in fast things, just like you.

You could do worse than shack up with such a fella; not that he’s offerin’ but you can tell by the flicker in his eye and the smirk of his lips that he’s as susceptible as the next guy watching you on the pole. Except this sweet, world weary cynic just might screw your gooey insides up worse than any threat or ogle from another man.

Snippet:

“Well, well officer Presley, finally got persnickety about laws, have ya?” you observed to yourself with a grin as you watched the handsome man swagger towards you along the white line in your side mirror, tugging at his pants as he neared, trying to shimmy the article of clothing a little higher but is impeded by his belt, stopped by his sizable belly, his holster and buckle sitting under the bulge of it.

Your mouth watered. It had been a year or two since you saw him last. He was always built, intimidating to all the stupid rascals he keeps in line along the border, but now he had become outright fat and his khaki shirt pulled apart between each button. Yet when he came up to your window, that little boy grin was still gracing one of the most exquisite faces known to man, and his voice was tender and playful when he greeted you, just as you once recalled. You could see his sweaty hair, matted on his chest and belly between the gaps, his underarms had massive pit stains, doubly apparent thanks to the light color of his police uniform.

Your smile had something of the she-wolf in it as you greeted him, sniffing the air in hopes of catching a whiff as he leaned on your window frame, nearly crowding you from outside. “Hey Miss Sweet Cheeks,” he greets, “you know why ya been pulled over?”

“Haven't got a clue, officer.” You stated the truth and enjoyed the way his title rolled off your tongue in a bantering way. It was easy.

Officer, officer. Somebody important and authoritative. No sir, yes sir, Officer.

His left eyebrow quirked and you wondered what he looked like at twenty five, how devastating that expression would have been before his wound and his meds and the water retention. Whatever power it may have once held, it holds nothing to this slightly bemused, slightly cynical world weariness that shows in his every expression now, that had a twitch of an eyebrow making you feel a fool. “You’re goin’ seventy in a forty five, Miss.” his tone was patient even as his face suggested he’d like to tan your hide for being so reckless. “Reckless endangerment of others, and yourself,” he quoted sternly, “it ain’t no small matter and I don’t countenance it on my highway.”

Gosh, you just loved it when he laid claim to government property like highways and interstates. It helped you smile meekly at him and nod.

“Sorry officer, I got lax.” You purred, batting your eyes and you could see the heavy flap of their coal coated weight in your periphery. “I’ve seen you lettin’ me flyby on the interstate. I guess I thought…”

#Elvis blurbs #trash magic #TM asks #elvis fanfiction #elvis presley #blurbs #my blurbs #elvis fanfic #elvis imagine #elvis x reader #elvis presley x reader #elvis presley fic #elvis presley smut #elvis presley fan fic #elvis presley fanfiction #elvis presley fanfic #elvis presely smut