#same sh!t different day!!!!

[samkerrworshipper]

safe and sound | leah williamson x reader

themes of suicide attempt, suicidal thoughts, self harm, depression, anxiety, angst, 4000 words

sorry this is messy asf and not spell checked whatsoever cause i’m uploading this at 1am lol but got this from a request and felt like i had to finish it before i start the lucy smut that i’m starting so here it is my loves xoxo

I blamed myself for getting myself into this position. Maybe if I’d been a better friend or a better player or maybe just if I hadn;t of woken up on the left side of the bed this morning. Maybe it would all be different if we hadn’t just won a home Euros, maybe I wouldn’t feel the same pressure from the media, maybe I wouldn’t have felt so goddamn anxious to go anywhere. Maybe if I hadn't transferred from Barca I’d feel safer, maybe if I wasn’t so focused on my career I would have seen the warning signs. I hadn’t though, hadn’t seen the way that I felt so fucking tired after every session, even the easier ones. Hadn’t noticed the fact that I wasn’t sleeping anymore and that I was always checking social media to see what people were saying about my most recent game. I hadn’t noticed that I was picking at my nail beds again until they were a bloody mess. Hadn’t noticed that the accidental nicks along my legs from my razor had slowly become less accidental. Hadn’t noticed how absolutely broken I had been from the inside out until I was sitting on top of my apartment car garage contemplating everything.

The sun was setting slowly, the yellows and pinks and oranges all mixing like a starburst tie dye across the sky. It was incredible, something I’d never really seen in London, it felt symbolic. Maybe if I hadn't been choking down my feelings for so long I wouldn’t have been looking at the concrete 30ms below me and finding comfort in it. Finding comfort in the poetic way that it spoke to me, that it made me feel a little bit more at peace. Solid, grey, concrete. Nothing special about it but there was also something so special about it. A gust of wind would probably be enough to send me plummeting onto it, my brains and blood spilling out all over it. It would never look the same after that, never be quite so mundane and normal. The bloodstain would be hard to get out, the deep maroon seeping into the stone and staining it within a matter of minutes. I thought about the headlines for a few seconds, I’d probably make the front page of about every newspaper in the nation, ‘Y/n Y/l/n, Lionesses star striker, dead at 24 due to suicide’, it sent shivers down my spine, the good kind of shivers that made you feel at peace.

I’d never really let myself get further than that, never left myself alone long enough to think of a plan, actually think about much further than sitting here. Now though I felt more alone than ever, I shouldn’t have ever left Barca, shouldn’t have left my family there. It had seemed like the right decision coming to England, to play for Arsenal, to play at home again. Now though I couldn’t have regretted my decision more, I mean I was pretty much calling Lucy or Alexia everyday telling them how desperate I was to come home, balling my eyes out to them on the phone about how much I missed our team in Spain. I was technically only on loan for a season, just to find my footing, but now I was certain that I stood no chance of surviving the whole season. The girls are lovely, Jonas was lovely, I was playing alongside the woman I loved but everything about it felt so wrong. Maybe it was the weather, or maybe it was the location but it all was just so wrong and I couldn’t tell you why. I woke up every morning, went to training, came home, ate, tried to sleep and then repeated it all. It was a strenuously depressing pattern that never ended. It was the same, day in, day out. I didn’t have my found family anymore, just myself and my girlfriend who was too occupied with being Arsenal and England’s captain to have much time for me anymore. I didn’t really blame her, she was a busy woman, and she had such a good pure heart that she used to do so much good.

Sometimes it was overwhelming to me how much she was willing to give, to other people, to anything. She put her whole heart into everything and it was something I envied so much in her. Her willingness to give up anything for the people she cared about was insane to me. She cared so deeply about everyone around her and it was truly astounding but it did leave me feeling neglected occasionally when she was busy helping out someone or busy dedicating her time to a project that needed her more than I did. I didn’t like to be needy, so maybe even though I’d been struggling for a few weeks I hadn’t flagged it with Leah.

She’d caught on somewhere along the way, stopping me one morning to check in, I’d shaken her off with a smile telling her I was just a little bit burn out with the Euro’s and changing to Arsenal, I could tell she hadn’t believed me but she also knew that I didn’t respond well to being pushed, normally she would wait me out, wait until I came crawling to her to talk but this time it felt different, like maybe this was the end. Maybe this time I wasn’t going to get around to talking to Leah, maybe this time I didn’t want her to help me, maybe I just wanted to be done with trying to be better, trying to be okay when I wasn’t. Maybe this ledge was the end of my story, maybe it was destined to be.

“Hey honey.”

The sudden voice behind me was almost enough to send me over the ledge, my knuckles turning white from clutching onto the edge. I flinched as the source of the voice climbed up onto the ledge and sat down beside me.

“Beautiful sunset, how was your day?”

It was such a mundane question and the simplicity of the statement was enough to bring me down to earth enough to realise that there were tears falling down my face and my whole body was shaking slightly.

“Reminds me of the ones in Barca. It was alright.”

Leah nodded at me, keeping her own eyes on the horizon, the sun had almost fully gone down but there were parts of it still peeking out.

“I went and saw Keira and Jill, Keira was in town to visit Millie and some of the other girls, she said she missed you, that you’d been missing her and Luce’s calls for about a week now.”

My hands were almost numb from the death grip that I had on the ledge that we were sitting on. She had distanced herself enough that we weren’t touching but close enough that I could feel her presence.

“It kept slipping my mind to call them back.”

It was all excuses, things that I was telling Leah to avoid the conversation.

“Fair enough, they’re both just worried about you, I’m worried about you sweetheart. Did you end up going for coffee with Katie this morning?”

I knew she was asking me the questions as a distraction technique, new she’d been taught it from Lucy when I’d moved here, the same stuff Lucy had been taught from my therapist. I knew that subconsciously but for some reason it worked every single time, without fail.

“Felt sick.”

“She called me, said you’d bailed last minute and asked me to check in with you for her, to tell you that you guys would have to reschedule. What did you eat for lunch?”

I could feel my legs kicking out against the solid concrete below my feet, I was averting Leah’s eye contact with everything that I could, keeping my eyes on my feet or the sky that was gradually getting darker.

“Felt sick, wasn’t hungry. Why are you here? I thought you had that dinner thing with Alex.”

It was the first question that I’d asked in the conversation, my curiosity taking over slightly.

“I came to check in with you, you weren’t answering my texts or calls and I was worried you were sick, so I came to check in before heading off to Alex’s, it’s unlike you to not be on your phone.”

I nodded, it was a fairly good explanation and it made sense but it also annoyed me so much because Leah showing up here was fucking with everything.

“You can go to Alex’s, I feel fine.”

“I love you, you know that right?”

Leah’s words hung heavy in the space between us.

“I know Lee.”

I rubbed at the tears that were drying up on my face with the sleeve of my hoodie, I was still trembling slightly but my tears had come to a slow.

“If anything ever happened to you I’d be beside myself.”

I felt my two front teeth falling to my lip, clutching it between my teeth and biting down on it.

“Lee, I’m fine.”

“No you’re not angel, and there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s okay for you to not be doing okay. We wouldn’t be sitting here if everything was fine, how about we get down from here, yeah? We can head down to your apartment, or my house if you want. We’ll go see the dogs, we can talk if you want, or we can call your therapist, or Ale, or we can just cuddle in bed, whatever you need.”

I shook my head almost immediately.

“Leah I need you to leave me alone, please, just leave, go home, go hang out with Alex, just leave me.”

“I can’t do that sweetheart and you know it, and if you can’t get down from here then you know that I won’t hesitate to call 999 if it's what I have to do to keep you safe. I love you Y/n, but I will not love you to death. So you can either get down from here by yourself or with my help, or with the help of a policeman, those are your options.”

It was the stern Leah that was now coming out now, the Leah that came out when she needed to help a teammate who was struggling but wouldn’t admit it, the Leah who was relentless and would do anything to protect the people she loved.

“I can’t do this anymore, I can’t fucking deal with this anymore.”

That was when I broke, tears and sobs cascading from my eyes and mouth.

“I know sweetheart, and I am so sorry that I didn’t realise that it had gotten this bad, I am so sorry for that. Let me make it up to you, let me take you home and I can take time off, we can both take time off, travel, whatever you need. Y/n/n, I can’t not do life without you, so let’s get down from here, let’s work this out at home.”

I was at a crossroads, on one hand I was very much so aware of the fact that I could jump right now, that Leah couldn’t stop that, I also knew that I wouldn’t do it with Leah here, the guilt of making her watch it would eat at me too much. So eventually, I was going to have to get down but for right now I couldn't, I needed to hold on to this for a little bit before having to get down and face reality.

“I’m not going to jump, I just need a few more minutes here.”

“I don’t know if I trust you right now honey, no offence, but I’m looking out for you.”

I nodded, it was fair judgement, I probably wouldn’t trust me either in her position.

“You can hold onto me if it helps, I just need some time here.”

Leah conceded to me, but wrapped her arm securely around my waist, moving herself so she was flush against me and holding me tightly against her body.

“How was Keira?”

“She was good, misses you, her and Lucy are good, I think Keira is getting the sense that Lucy might be tiptoeing around proposing. Apparently she’s been very secretive and antsy, typical Lucy fashion, I told her I knew nothing. Jill made me promise that we’d meet up with her, she says she misses my better half. I picked up Scout from the groomers, you should see the hair cut they gave her, just pure fluff. I went to the grocers, the fancy one that you love so much down the road, picked up all of your favourite stuff, even the stupidly expensive soup that you like. If you want we can go back to mine and you can eat it while we talk.”

She was trying to coax me away, with the promise of soup, which sounded so stupid but she knew me so well that it made me laugh a little bit.

“Can I have the soup without talking?”

“You can drink the soup first but we have to talk and you know it, whether you realise it or not it’s for the better.”

I nodded into Leah’s side, she was right, she was always right. She was so wise for her age and sometimes it felt like instead of being two years older than me she was 20.

“Let’s head home, yeah?”

I pursed my lips, still contemplating my options.

“You’re going to make me anyways, right?”

“Yeah babygirl, it’s for the best.”

I nodded at Leah, accepting defeat.

“Can you help me?”

Leah nodded at me almost immediately, getting herself down and then reaching up for me. She lifted me off of the ledge and pulled me down onto the ground beside her. The first thing she did was drape her jacket around my shivering form. She didn’t say anything else, she just immediately started walking, dragging me along towards her car and gracefully fastening the passenger seat belt around me before climbing into the driver's seat and started to drive.

The car ride was silent, I was a shivering, crying, mess. Leah was keeping up her strong facade, clearly not prepared to give me any sympathy. It wasn’t her way, she was a tough love kind of person. She gave it to you how it was and that was that. I loved her for that, I didn’t like people who bull shitted you with false sympathies and sweetness, I was a realist and so was Leah.

The drive to her house was reasonably short, she lived about a ten minute drive from my apartment or a half an hour walk. It was convenient, especially when one of us needed a little bit of space but we also wanted to be within reach of the other. When we did make it back to her house I was kind of feeling inexplicably numb, my thoughts eating at my brain and body and leaving me feeling frozen in time. Leah unbuckled me from my seat and helped me up, helped me walk through her front door before getting me seated on her couch with our dogs before walking into the kitchen to get that soup that she’d promised me.

When she did finish warming up the soup I was melting into the couch practically, our dogs, Scout and Saidee had apparently gotten the message that I needed them, so both of them were draped on top of me, it was what I needed. Leah returned with a bowl of soup and placed it down on our coffee table before sliding in next to me on the couch.

“I’d give the soup a few minutes to cool down, how about we talk until then?”

I didn’t want to talk, but it didn’t seem like I had a choice.

“What do you want to talk about?”

“How long have you been feeling not okay?”

It was a rough question, but not something that I hadn’t been expecting.

“Honestly, a few weeks, since my move here. I love you and I love being with you but being here isn’t easy for me and I’m struggling to settle in.”

Leah nodded, I knew it wasn’t going to be easy for her to hear, that’s probably why I’d avoided telling her for as long as possible. Arsenal was her family, Arsenal ran in her blood and I knew that there was a chance she’d take it personally that I hadn’t been finding it easy to settle in.

“Okay, I wish you’d told me earlier but that’s okay. Change isn’t easy, I can’t blame you for struggling. Obviously, I love having you here but if it’s not meant to be then it’s not meant to be. I’m sorry if I haven’t been focusing on you enough, I know that I’ve been so occupied with everything else but that isn’t a good enough reason for me to have been neglecting you. I have to ask this question, were you going to kill yourself tonight?”

I took a deep breath through my nose, no one is ever prepared for that question, it’s not something anybody wants to hear or talk about ever.

“Look, I’m not quite sure. I wasn’t really thinking, if you hadn't showed up, maybe. I don’t know Leah, I just know that I was feeling so fucking out of control and when I fele out of control I stop thinking.”

Leah just pursed her lips, it was clear that she didn’t know exactly what to say, or she was trying to put what she was thinking into words.

“Okay, that’s okay. Obviously it’s not okay, but that’s okay. We have options here, you have options. Let’s book an appointment with your therapist tomorrow, firstly. Secondly I think you and I should maybe sit down and have a proper conversation about your mental health, just so that I can become more educated on it and I can be more aware of these kinds of situations, because I want to be. I love you y/n and I want to be here to support you fully, but if I’m going to do that I need to understand how I can love you but also look after you and help you, because I want to.”

I was anxiously patting our dogs stomach, as I thought about how the fuck I was going to talk to Leah about this.

“I’ve had fucked up mental health since I was a kid, it fluctuates, you know that I get panic attacks and spouts of depression. Sometimes it worsens, Lucy can give you more details, honestly I don’t think I’m the best at explaining it. Sometimes I get really low, I’ve had my fair share of suicidal thoughts and self harm over the years, I’ve never gone through with anything and honestly my mental health has been really good over the year or so, that was why I didn’t flag it with you, and I’m sorry I didn’t. I am so sorry that you had to see me like that, I’m sorry that your fucking worrying about me.”

Leah’s arm wove its way around my waist, bringing me flush against her and it felt so right in that moment.

“Y/n, look at me.”

It was the first time that I’d looked her in the eyes the whole night and it kind of hurt in some bizarre way staring into her brown eyes. They were full of so much emotion, so much feeling and pain in them.

“You should not be sorry for having human emotion. I’m sorry for not seeing the warning signs, for not being around enough to see the signs. I’m still learning, I’m trying to be better for you, so let’s just agree that neither of us are perfect. This is new to me, but I’m going to try my fucking hardest for you, whatever you need. We’re going to make you feel happier, put that smile back on your face that made me fall in love with you, if it’s the last thing I do. Maybe we take a break if that’s what you need, or we explore other options, anything to make you feel happier, anything for my girl.”

#woso #leah williamson #lionesses #woso community #arsenal wfc #leah williamson x reader #katie mccabe #lucy bronze #marry me rn

[diabolichare]

Familar Stranger

DP x DC au with a dash of dimensional travel where Danny, due to his ghostly nature, looks slightly different depending on how others perceive him. 

Warning: OP has no knowledge of space other than Google and is also a non-native English speaker; proceed with caution.

Same startup kits; Danny becomes the successor to the Infinity Realm (he's a baby by both ghost and human standards, so there's a temporary council for now). Anyway, he still has some power over the ghosts, so he asks them to lessen the amount of fighting to focus on schoolwork and "princely education." 

Now here's where my brainrot begins.

The Lazarus Pits, necromantic rituals, or portals of any kind that have "death" or "soul" in them tend to be connected to the Ghost Zone. However, the zone has its own defensive mechanism, so unless someone *Fentons* actively makes a gateway or has "experienced" death, it's nearly impossible to come upon the zone. A certain furry bridage in Gotham has unknowingly ticked all the checkboxes.

During a misson, one of the bats got caught in a magic situation and got transported to the Infinity Realms. They wandered around, dogding ghosts, slowly getting insane from all these damn corridors and living paintings, before they stumbled upon a seemingly random door (CW is involved; he's having a great time testing the poor bat).

Opening the door leads them to the universe. They closed the door, then opened it again. Yep, that's an entire universe complete with its own planetary systems and, oh, so pretty stars growing and dying in a blink of an eye. Another check around shows them that this is the only door so far in the endlessly long hallway. They look down (if there's even a down, for there's only infinity) and take an experimental step. The Milky Way lit up under their feet, with stars gathering around to form a twisting path to nowhere. 

For the next couple of hours, days, or minutes, they made their way through the galaxies. Just when they were about to spiral into a midlife crisis, they heard... humming? 

Did they finally lose it? They asked themselves before noticing a glowing figure sitting on an asteroid nearby.

"Hello?"

The figure flinched, and life paused. The blackhole by their left stopped spinning, the stars weren't twinkling, and the figure turned their head. Now it's their blood that runs cold.

"You're not supposed to be here."

Lazarus-colored orbs stared back at them with a familiar face but an unfamiliar voice. Damian tilted his head, looking at them in confusion (there's something wrong, wrong, wrong-). They blinked because, what the hell, seeing something other than a scowl on the boy's face is WeirdTM. Suddenly, that's a teenaged Jason staring at them, much closer than he(?) was before.

At this point, they realized— eyes moving over the entire regalia and the glowing crown that just appeared—they're probably in deep sh*t.

#dc #dcu #danny fenton #danny phantom #batfam #dp #dpxdc #dcx #dc x dp prompt #uncannydanny #got inspired by Bian Lian (Face-changing) #haha poor bat member #danny is just freaked and worried #cause this is his special space how did someone get in #initial worries is over now come the panik: oh Ancients a human in the Ghost Zone #dw danny takes them back to the living world #which is in another dimension btw wow how did you get so far #danny: alright dude *smile* pls dont come back i wont be able to help you a second time #batmember: *getting hives from seeing damian's face smiling so bright* #bat member: you look just like my brother #danny: haha imagine that #danny is the term people see what they want #and bats are black haired blue eyed coded #my post #my prompts #diabolichare

[shesalewa]

Idk bro.

I remember a post about Shen Jiu wanting someone to be there for him when he needed it most, and that it would've changed the way he is if he had said person.

And its not wrong, Shen jiu really needed someone to be there for him

So in every Shen twin au, it would mean that Shen Jiu wouldn't be the cruel person he was. He would just be sassy. And because they share trauma, Shen Yuan and Shen Jiu would both be over protective of each other.

Imagine they become peak lords and decide to be silly and have the same peak lord name and have the same disciples. Imagine the confusion the disciples must have when on their first day the teacher is strict and cold. Then the next day he's overflowing with love and is suddenly so kind.

The disciples just came to the conclusion that their shizun has D.I.D until they find themselves having to go on a mission with the both of them because one doesn't like to go out and has to keep count of affairs that doesn't involve crowds and the other has to keep count of affairs that involve crowds.

And then they realize "oh. They're twins. But why would they both be Named SQQ?" That wasn't answered. They both answered vaguely.

And the fact that Shen Yuan is now a Native in the world he probably told Sj about the system. That or Sj found out about the system, and he became a glitch.

So when Lbh finally arrives, Sj keeps a close watch, and Sy immediately shows favoritism.

Which eventually shocks the other disciples because the twins hardly ever play favorites. Though the disciples know that Sj's favorite person to be around would be Sy, but Sy??? Having favorites??? Shocking.

Though Sy still tries to live under the radar of the system, Sj takes the place of protecting Lbh for him.

However due to Sj's having a villainous appearance being the supposed villain, scares poor white lotus.

Sy being over filled with joy just seeing lbh, gets hit with a big bang of, OOC. because Sj is a glitch. He cannot count as Sqq, therefore Sy, has to take over has Sqq.

What's more, Lbh gets confused on who is who from time to time. One he hardly ever interacts with (Sy) who is actually very kind but he's not close enough to let his guard down. The other, strict and scary, and has no plans of getting to know him or close to him.

Eventually, Sy gets rid of Ooc, and gets to be close with Lbh, and Lbh gradually latches onto this kindness.

Soon enough the Demon attack thingy arc happened, and since the Shen twins were known to hardly ever fight, nobody knew what type of fighting style they had. They think just like how common stereotypes work.

But to their surprise, Sj is more on defense and Healing, Sy is more on offense. Despite their appearance, they tend to act more differently from what they look at certain times.

Ofc the poisoning thingy happens, and Sj scolds Sy for saving someone who won't be affected.

Ofc this leads to Sy telling Sj about Pidw, and etc etc, and about the Abyss.

So blah blah blah. Non of this matters.

What matters is that Shen Jiu is happy, and not cruel. Just Sassy and happy.

Sy: wanna talk sh/t about other peak lords?

Sj: how unbecoming of you. Yes, I will. why ask?

Etc etc.

Lqg: fight me.

Sj: ... Oh me? No thank you, I don't wanna fight children.

Lqg: but I'm not-

Sy: he says you're childish. Now leave.

So yeah basically.

Shen jiu is not cruel if he just had someone be there for him. Baby boy just wanted to have someone by his side.

Oh and. Sy has trauma too. Oh and Sj is on good terms with YQY.

#svsss au #mxtx svsss #svsss #mxtx #shen jiu #shen yuan #original shen qingqiu #shen twins #shen qingqiu #yue qingyuan #liu qingge #lou binghe #scumbag villain #scumbag self saving system #scumbag system #scum villian self saving system #scum villain

[gentlebeardsbarngrill]

01/20/2024 Crew Recap

TLDR; David Jenkins Message on IG; How you can help; Contacting Netflix, Prime, AppleTV; General Guidelines for Wooing Networks; New Hashtags; UK Crew Updates; Petition/Fundraiser Status; Articles; Extras; Rhys' Stiddy

=== Chaos Dad's Message ===

David Jenkins messaged us FRIENDS and gave us a new heading to steer the ship for the crew. Truly an amazing and sweet message, and helping give @renewasacrew a good place to start on new networks.

== How you can help ==

So based on Chaos Dad's tweet, what the folks over at @renewasacrew have recommended is we focus our efforts on Netflix, AmazonStudios, and Apple TV. We'll be polite menacing but also doing some more specific wooing this time so please see below for more information.

= Reach out to Netflix =

You can reach out to Netflix Here.

= Reach out to Apple TV =

You can reach out to apple tv by going here.

= Amazon Prime: Thank you @mermaid-stede for this write up: =

1) if you have an Amazon account, go to My Stuff > Settings > Help & Feedback > Provide Feedback

2) If you don't, write here

3) might as well try their customer service 888 280-4331, using the same strategy from above (though you might need an Amazon account)

4) and here's an email! [email protected]

Amazon.com: AIV Website Feedback Form

DIGPRJSURVEY.AMAZON.COM

You can see more of their write ups here

=New Hashtags=

#AdoptOurCrew #RenewAsACrew #SaveOFMD

Things to remember:

Only Message 1 of the 3 networks at once. We are wooing them, they want to be enticed, not included in a crowd. If you are reaching out to one, make sure to reach out to all three (just separately)

Be Polite, this is a bit of a different strategy from max, we WANT these people to pick us up, we're not grumpy at them.

Yes you can use season 3 and beyond, use the same terminology David Jenkins did.

More specific info from folks regarding the things to remember:

=== UK Crew ===

Great job everyone! Your efforts made a difference! Thanks for the update @lamentus1!

Something else to mention for our UK and International Friends that are reaching out via social networks or email/phone:

=Daily Engagement Reminder!=

Our Flag Means Death Wikipedia Page

Google Search for Our Flag Means Death

Google UK Search for Our Flag Means Death

Our Flag Means Death IMDB

=== Petition / Fundraiser Status ===

Petition: ALMOST at 75K!

Renew as a Crew - Benefiting Rainbow Youth is fully funded at $17K!

OFFP Care for Gaza - HITS $10K!!!! Great job all!

=== New Articles ===

Fans Declare War Against Warner Bros., Light Up Times Square for Beloved Show

Our Flag Means Death’s Renewal Campaign Lands Times Square Billboard

=== Other Stuff ===

Some BTS from Vico's IG reels

=Wanna help out our fellow cancelees?=

Sign the Petition for Rap Sh!t!

-------------------------------------------------------------

So Dad's message kind of blew everything else out of the water today, there were some sightings of various crew on the web but most of them were reactions to David's reel so I figured it probably wasn't worth adding today. Thank you as usual to the @renewasacrew team, and @TheCozyPirate for all their steering and insight and helping make these pivots possible each day!

-------------------------------------------------------------

Side note: I saw a lot of really great stuff today-- people focused more on action with the renewal and starting to discuss fun things more and more, less dealing with trolls. I hope that means you all are getting some rest and avoiding some of the crazy shit going on.

Seriously, you're doing amazing. David sees it, the cast sees it, the crew sees it, we all see it. You should all feel super proud of yourself for all the hard work you're doing, whether it's just enjoying the show, being active in the renewal efforts, or just being you.

Please continue to make art, and fics, and goofy memes, and silly videos, and everything. Your creativity is so inspiring and fun and it keeps us all sane! (Also please share them with me I love them.)

On that note, here's Rhys grabbing one of those Stiddies.

Gif courtesy of ofmd-ann's post here

#ofmd #our flag means death #stede bonnet #gentlebeard #edward teach #renew as a crew #rhys darby #save ofmd #blackbonnet #save our flag means death #hoist the ads #ofmd daily recaps #ofmd daily recap #adoptourcrew #renewascrew #ofmd cast #david jenkins #daddy jenkins #proud pirate daddy #netflix

[yuusishi]

dorm leaders hc with a f/mc who was captured by a ghost prince and wanted to be his bride pls

Dorm Leaders with an s/o chosen for the bride of a ghost prince!

Hi! As much as I want to do all dorm leaders, I’m not extremely familiar of a few of their personalities as well as my 3 character limit so I’ll only do the ones I know a little better!

pairings: Riddle, Leona, Idia x f!reader (she/her pronouns used)

genre: fluff

cw/tws: light misogyny from the prince in Leona’s part.

Note: The “ghost prince” in this post does not share a very similar personality with Eliza, I am not saying that she acts like the prince in this post during the Phantom Bride event. There are also differences in this post compared to the original event story because some dorm leaders were either absent in the event or part of the group that were stunned by Eliza’s slap, in the case of Idia it’s because he was the one kidnapped.

━━━━━━━━━━━━✿━━━━━━━━━━━

Riddle Rosehearts

You were out walking to the school store for ingredients with Trey for the next unbirthday party when you saw the ghost prince looking for his “bride”.

He spotted you and immediately ran up to you and declared to his retainers that he has found his bride and they dragged you off, Trey tried to fight them but a 1-to-however many he was no match.

Running to the Hall of Mirrors, he went to Heartslabyul and informed Riddle to which he was furious about.

Stealing THE Riddle Rosehearts’ s/o AND forcing her into marriage?! He was not having ANY of it.

Definitely informed Crowley about it first tho, to which he was given the same explanation of his kingdom being destroyed without him being wedded with a smile on his face.

It was…awkward trying to get you back, he needed to attempt to woo the guards at the front of the cafeteria just to get in, he didn’t even need to woo you like this.

He saw the prince presenting you to his retainers as if you were just some trophy and Ace had to calm him down from doing anything to the prince that might ruin the entire plan.

Thought about giving the prince a second death right then and there.

But he couldn’t help but swoon a little though when he saw you in the wedding dress that the prince had picked out for you, it fit you perfectly, the colors complemented your hair, skin, and eyes to a T.

He thought about marrying you after this whole situation was over actually, seeing you carry your dress to walk towards him with a smile made him think about how he wants your wedding with him to be like.

Leona Kingscholar

The audacity you must have to steal from Leona Kingscholar himself.

It was a weekend so you managed to drag Leona off his bed to go outside and wander around the campus, that’s when you met the ghost prince.

The prince and his retainers tried pulling you off him but Leona had a mean grip on you, the ghosts only managed to get you after Leona’s arm on you weakened for a single second. Taking that advantage they pulled you and dragged you away from the better prince.

Only told Crowley after attempting to get you himself twice and failing.

Crowley only told the story of the prince now and he was mad on how the Headmage never even thought of informing anyone.

Busted through the cafeteria doors with no hesitation and did not give a shit about the prince yelling at him.

“C’mon, you’re also a fellow prince, right? You must know the importance of having a queen by your side, like to have an heir or��” “Do you want to die”.

He made sure you were safe in the corner of the room while he helped the others fight Puffy, he was definitely even more angry when the prince realized his feelings for his guard.

Please give him more cuddles that night, he got scared he would lose you to someone else though he won’t say it out loud.

He definitely hugged you tighter than night and didn’t let you go until you had to forcibly remove him from you because you wanted to eat breakfast.

Not one to think of marriage despite his age, he just wanted you back that entire day and was REALLY grumpy throughout the whole situation.

Idia Shroud

“Huh? What happened to Ortho?” Idia said to himself seeing that Ortho was sending distress signals and using a lot of his magic which was something he rarely did.

Idia connected with his brother and saw that he was…fighting ghosts? And that you were being held by one?!

He is not going to let this slide, he may be a nerdy shut-in but no way is he just going to stand and watch as his girlfriend is in danger.

Putting on a pair of shoes as quickly as possible, he darted out of his dorm room to the Main Street where this commotion was being held.

As he came out of the mirror of Ignihyde, Idia bumped into his brother, his eyes looking at him panicking.

“Brother! (Name)’s been kidnapped! I saw them bringing her to the cafeteria, all those ghosts were strong and they just kept reviving every time I attacked them!”

Enemies that can revive themselves? Is the world being serious? Is he walking into a boss fight unprepared right now?

He peered into the cafeteria’s windows using small drones connected to his tablet, all he saw was the prince being all lovey-dovey towards you.

‘Hey! I should be the only one doing that!’ he thought, realizing what he said in his head the ends of his hair burnt a small pink.

After the situation settled and you were saved from the ghost prince, he saw you walk oh so elegantly towards him in the midnight blue dress that the prince picked out for you.

He looked at you in awe, eyes sparkling as if he was seeing the best view in his life, because he was.

“Idia, thanks for helping save me, that prince was a real bother trying to make me marry him, we all know who I really want to marry” you huffed in frustration at the memory of the prince.

Although he knew the answer, Idia still asked

“It’s you of course! No one’s a better person for me than you, Idia” you grinned.

He could feel himself melt at your sunshine smile that was beaming at him.

#twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland fluff #twst x reader #twst fluff #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #riddle x reader #leona x reader #idia x reader

[aplaceforyourhearttorest]

Desert Hills Motel ✩ James Hetfield (18+)

for @30-3am ♡

The Tulsan heat beats down on you as you carry your bags toward the small and now overpacked motel's parking lot. Cars pile up and create a combined cacophony of overused horns and shouts, as a tour bus haphazardly pulls in and loudly shudders to an abrupt stop. Sweat trickles down the pulse points on the sides of your neck, causing your expression to set in a grimace as your arms begin to ache from the weight of your toiletries and exertion. Your curiosity gets the best of you as you spot a large crowd of teens and young women around your age, barrel their way into the cramped crowd in front of the already rented rooms.

"Can you believe they're actually here in Oklahoma?" A girl beams, causing the cluster of people around her to relay the same sentiment and start to talk over each other.

"I didn't think they'd be touring so heavily, especially after what happened only a few years ago." You hear someone exclaim as an elbow roughly bumps into yours, causing you to instinctively grip harder onto the ears of the plastic bags in your hands. Uneasiness begins to pulse through you as the chatter surrounding you suddenly turns into a bellowing pit of screams. Your eyes try to erratically search for the number matching the crumpled keycard in your trembling palm over the tall figures in front of you, but to no avail. The numbers were completely out of your line of sight. Hesitantly shouldering your way past one of the men blocking your view, newfound hope begins to bloom in your chest as a small passageway slowly makes itself in the middle of the crowd.

Leaning forward on the tips of your boots, you lift yourself up to take advantage of the few extra inches of height your fmb's give you, before letting out a chattering exhale as you see the sliver of the exit turn into a full-blown path. Raising your arms to allow the bagged items to shuffle themselves from your wrists down to your elbows, you try to make yourself as small as possible as you duck under the unceremonious, shoving hands.

Biting back a wince as a hand nearly makes contact with your sweat laden and rosy cheek, you nearly trip over your feet in haste as you move forward.

"Here they come, here they come!" A voice shouts right next to your left ear, causing you to lose momentum and pause right in the middle of the open area. Letting out a curse as you see a small group of various and differently dressed men steadily make their way through the crowd and near where you stood frozen, you force yourself to trudge forward, before making the choice to unsteadily run forward in between the divided two parts of the hotel, before stopping to finally relax in front of a dilapidated ice box. Momentarily closing your eyes and placing one of your bags onto the ground, you roll your aching wrists to try and relieve some tension as you take in the cold gust of air cascading itself from the machine in front of you. Squeezing your shoulder blades together and shakily inhaling a much-needed breath, you bask in the now muted sounds of the once overstimulating screams and welcome in the hum of the refrigeration unit.

"Feels nice, doesn't it?" An easygoing tone asks you, causing your eyes to snap open and squint up blearily at the man before you, the sun making your eyebrows furrow. Lifting your free hand up to create a makeshift visor to protect you from the unrelenting beams, you feel yourself begin to fluster as a handsome man in a cowboy hat fully comes into view. "Bet you don't get too many cool days around here." He makes sure to maintain eye contact with you as he stands his guitar case on the brick wall next to him. Your eyes widen in realization as you take in his appearance. Dirty blonde hair rests against his broad shoulders and cascades down his strong neck, where a necklaced worn and signed pick lays against a barely covered chest, his light colored and sparse chest hair peeking out from under his stretched-out v neck t-shirt. Tight black jeans encapsulate every divot in his seemingly never-ending long legs, and finally, a black pair of cowboy boots that almost entirely match your own, except for in color and their lack of heel. And although his outfit screamed southern boy, you knew he was anything but. This man's aura screamed he was a star and was meant to be one. Of course, he'd be part of the band everyone was currently losing their minds over.

"You seem like you'd fit right in, attire and all." You drawl out sheepishly, the smile you get back in response pulling you in and withdrawing out the rest of the uneasiness from your body.

"A southern bell, huh? Guess we chose the right hotel after all." James muses, before beckoning his head toward the barely lit neon green cactus sign. Unable to hide your grin, you look to the side to catch your bearings, before meeting his bright blue eyes once again.

"Your type of music not too welcomed around here?" You implore, the tips of your boots nearly caressing his as he places himself closer to the only source of cool air.

"With the way everyone reacted to us settling down in town, you'd think otherwise, doll." Cheeks blazing from the endearing term, you purse your lips, before watching him lick his own in response. "With the way everyone's reacted to y'all settling down, I know your group isn't something we usually see," Bracketing in your plush bottom lip before releasing it slowly, you airily breathe out as the tall man in front of you watches your chest rise and fall, the already charged air around the two of you starting to feel fervid. "You ain't no Fleetwood Mac, especially with the cool looking guy in the Marilyn tee."

"You telling me I couldn't pass as the second cousin of John McVie?" James huffs out, his faux angry expression causing a grin to fully envelop your face.

"Absolutely not. Not even close." You respond through laughter, before bending down to pick up your overfilled bag. James quickly meets you halfway, his hand encircling around your wrist, before delicately gliding his ringed fingers down to yours and removing the bagged items from your grasp.

"Here, let me." He insists. "Which room is yours?"

"We don't even know each other's first names yet and you're already asking me for my room number?" You raise an eyebrow as he struggles for a rebuttal, the slip in his confident disposition making your lips twitch impossibly higher.

"James." He mutters, shaking his head at himself before grinning in disbelief. "What is it?" You ask, confusion painting your features as he laughs instead of answering. "Nothing you need to stress over, bell. Now how about you show me where your room is, before we both pass out from this heat and my bandmates order a search and rescue?"

"Your band! Oh God, do you think they're doing okay?" Head turning to readjust your view toward the crowd only a few handfuls of yards away, your eyes quickly latch onto three other outstanding men in the still growing pit of people. Nearly jumping as a large and calloused hand finds purchase on the low of your back, you're surprisingly quick to begin to relax as James' thumb rubs comforting circles into your now cooling down skin.

"They'll be just fine. We're all attention seeking anyway, comes with the job. Besides, I only ever came over here to see if you were doing alright." Your eyes widen in mortification as you quickly come to terms with the fact that he saw you nearly faceplant and run off only just a few minutes prior.

"Any way we can just pretend like that never happened?" You plead, leaning back into his touch to look up at him and send him a placating and disingenuous smile. James pats his palm against the skin of your natural arch before beaming down at you with a humor-filled, shit eating grin.

"Absolutely not."

✩

Robin's egg blue chipped paint stares back at you as you place the bags on the spinning chair near the entrance of your motel room, the crumpled keycard resting dangerously close on the edge of the clearly pre-used coffee table to your near right.

"She's a beauty, isn't she? I'm pretty sure your room is going to look the exact same, maybe a little bigger." You muse, your lips stuck up in a sore-to-be smile as you glance over at the musician frozen in the doorway.

"I don't know what I was expecting after seeing the vintage sign out front, but this surely wasn't it." James says slowly, his words coming out lazily as his eyes scan the small room in front of him. Flower embroidered bedsheets and blankets stand out on the bed, and a television the size of a toaster lies tilted atop a cracked, screwed in piece of metal plate shoved in the wall.

"You're missing the best part of it all, rockstar," You migrate his attention back to you as you slyly make your way over to the bed, before smacking your hand against the bedpost. "It vibrates. Exactly what you need after the long ride you just had."

"I think those beds vibrate for some other reason entirely, doll." Fingers reaching up to run their way through his facial hair, James hides an amused smile as you lag in place, before your expression turns uncharacteristically cheeky.

"A different type of ride then?" You ask him in a meek tone, watching in amusement as the man in front of you begins to sputter. "I think your roommates must be looking for you." Your eyes fill with mirth as he struggles to catch up with the quick change of subject before you.

Nodding to himself before physically shaking his head to get out of his stupor, James grips the middle of his nape and quickly averts his eyes as you walk your way back over to him. "Yeah, I bet they are."

"Thank you for being so kind to me, James." You whisper out, your short spell of cheekiness wearing off as you stand in front of the epitome of a man in front of you. Chain linked butterflies make their way and rattle through your ribcage as he reaches out to encircle his hand around your wrist once again.

"Thank you for making this town a whole lot more interesting, bell." Lifting your wrist up to his lips, he places a delicate kiss on your blush red fingertips before slowly letting go.

"You forgot one last thing. The best part of it all," Raising an eyebrow as he takes a step back, you watch him with unhidden interest as his eyes brighten with anew light. Digging into his pockets and flashing you three key cards, James sends you a gentle smile before heading on out. "Double sided doors. I'll see you later on, angel." He tosses to you in the humid air, his words nearly sounding muted as your attention quickly shifts to his full backside.

Your stomach tenses with anticipation as you watch him walk away, the awareness of the soreness of your wrists and physical exhaustion long gone while your heart incessantly pounds in your chest. Pushing your weight against the heavy door to fully close it shut and deadbolt it, you knew one thing for sure.

You couldn't wait to see him again, and you had an inkling that he felt the exact same way.

✩

"Why would you want the motel room farthest from the ice box and tour bus?" Lars asks his bandmate as he hesitantly places his weight on the creaking bed underneath him. James pointedly ignores him as he removes his hat to rest it on his knee, causing the unrelenting drummer to continue with his questioning. "Aren't you always the one wanting to hightail it out of towns like this once our location's been leaked? Southern fangirls are a different breed."

"Hell yeah, they are!" Jason agrees, his exclamation ending in a silent cry as the tip of his shoe harshly meets with an oddly bent piece of wood coming from a leg of the bed.

Kirk bites back a chortle as he watches their bassist hop around on one foot, before resting against the wall attached to the cubical sized bathroom. "Dane is right, usually you're always ready to run. What gives? Found a girl worthy enough to not bolt from a shit motel for once?"

"Maybe the eggshell paint and the obnoxiously large welcome signs are growing on me." James rebuts, oddly wanting to keep you to himself and no one else, especially from his occasionally overbearing bandmates and friends.

"It's Robin's egg, man. Everyone knows that." Jason breathes out in indignation once he stops jumping around, the hands he places on his hips being the only telltale sign of him being sarcastic. Rolling his eyes and shuffling back on his elbows to lean against the itchy fabric, James blindly kicks off one of his boots and grins wide as he hears a yelp.

"Fuck off, all of you. Y'all should be glad I'm taking the smallest room; the master is next door anyway. We can all still tear ass once the fans realize which rooms we're actually staying in."

Kirk lets out an audible shutter as he pushes himself off the ribbed wall and over to the double-sided doors. "I lost count of how many grandmas tried to grab my ass within the first five minutes of getting off the bus."

Lars cackles as he recounts the earlier events in his head, his entire upper half vibrating and lifting with the force of his amusement. "Old ladies out here grabbing at your ass like the first item they see on sale on Black Friday."

"Thanks for that mental image." Kirk mutters before unlatching the lock and making his way into the next room. "You brought it up first, man." A slim and long middle finger retreating behind its owner back is his only response to the blatant calling out, causing Lars to grin to himself before grabbing ahold of his duffle bag. Tossing it onto the coffee table and unzipping it open, the Dane reaches in and yanks out an oversized hoodie and jacket.

"See you fuck's later, I think I saw a bar down the road. Gonna go see if one of the roadies can distract the crowd long enough for me to get a Heineken in." Jason perks up at the sound of alcohol, his otherworldly and positive nature making James grin and fully relax back into the uneven springs beneath him. Looking over at the drummer with a pleading look in his eyes, Lars quickly relents and throws the jacket over to their bassist, who excitedly shoves his arms into the worn out sleeves.

"Try not to make headlines again, will you? I still feel guilty just thinking about Indianaoplis to this day. "

His bandmates share a knowing grin before they sling out halfhearted goodbyes over their shoulders and toss the hoodies over their heads, hurriedly make their way outside. James watches as they hastily tighten the drawstrings around their outerwear before slamming the door shut behind them.

The newly alone frontman makes sure their footsteps become inaudible before he sits up and makes eye contact with the door connected to yours. "Don't be such a pussy, it's only been a few hours." He scolds himself, before throwing caution to the wind and making his way over to the door, despite his inner turmoil and worry of coming off as too desperate and strong and reaching out too soon.

Raising an unsteady fist to the wooden door with a slight nervous tremor, James disproportionately knocks with his knuckles before taking a step back and placing his weight on the heels of his socked feet.

Instead of imitating a similar greeting in return, you instead undo the latch on your side and open the door to invite him in, your wide doe eyes staring up at him as he takes in your change of clothing. Heat rushes up to your cheeks as you wait for him to speak, your hands nervously twisting themselves together in front of you. You fight the urge to retreat as his eyes rake down your entire figure, seemingly trying to permanently encase the image of you in his mind. Thick and partially windblown hair pillows itself against your collarbones, the rest of it descending down the beginning of your spine and resting against the end of your sleep dress's straps. Gold silk shifts against your newly showered and softened skin and ends in lace around the middle of your partially naked thighs.

James punches out a deep breath as his eyes trail over and down your exposed and tantalizing skin, his fingers twitching with the urge to press themselves into you.

"I need you to tell me that this is wrong. That we should take our time and talk things out, since I'm sure we're both at least going to be in town for the next few days. Because if you don't, once I get into your room and I get my hands on you, I don't think I'll be able to stop until we're both finished and done for."

You silently prattle in your head about all the things that could possibly go wrong. The fact that he may be gone in the morning if his schedule changes, or the fact that he might just up and leave your room after you fall asleep instead, that this could simply be something temporary for him. That you could just be being used for his own pleasure. But as you watch the yellow tinged light of your bedside table's lamp illuminate the side of his face in the darkening natural light peering its way in through your partially opened blinds, you find yourself to not truly care. You knew deep down that this may be your one and only opportunity to get this close to him, in this very moment. And you were going to take full advantage of that.

"You said the double-sided doors are the best part of this place, right?" You start, the strong and steady tone you begin with quickly turning labored and overwrought as you feel his hungry and starved gaze weigh you down and hold you in place. "How about you take mine into consideration, and then we can make our way on over to yours?"

James stumbles over the jagged doorstep in haste before breaking out in a breathless huff of laughter at your words, his awaiting fingers coming up to lightly tug on the fabric covering your midsection to bring you even closer. Leaning down to rest his forehead against yours, James brings his free hand up to firmly cup it around the back of your neck and murmurs out before enrapturing you in a deep kiss.

"Fuck waiting."

✩

A gasp of laughter bubbles its way through your swollen lips as you're playfully pushed down onto the aged bed beneath you and your legs are yanked forward to rest against the outer edge. "Do you have any idea how I felt when I first saw you?" Rough and calloused hands teasingly raise the almost see through fabric of your dress up your thighs as James kneels in front of you. "A breath of fresh air compared to everyone else trying to run towards us, your fucking legs and those boots."

You shift your weight up to rest against the back of your arms and look down to try to and meet his eyes. A small thrum of a pulsation sensitizes your clit as you watch him slowly spread your thighs apart, a small patch of arousal bleeding through the cotton covering your sex as you watch him bring his face in between your legs.

"Your lips and the way you purse them when you're in a train of thought, makes me want to have you suck on my fingers while I eat you out." He roughs out, before placing a kiss on the inner side of your knee, the juxtaposition of the brash rub of his beard and his lips making you moan out in shock in the nearly quiet room.

The sound reverberates as James licks his lips at the sight of you getting wet, his cock already jumping in the tight confines of his jeans from the sight of you alone. "Your cunt's getting so wet for me already and I haven't even done anything to you yet. You feeling needy yet, doll? Need me to do something for you?"

You nod quickly, your eyes feeling heavy as his thumbs snag themselves against the softness of your inner legs to yank them open wide. A timorous feeling runs through you as the condensed and slowly cooling air blowing out from the AC unit creates goosebumps on your newly exposed skin, and you almost shy away from him as his eyes flick up to yours.

"Look at me, angel," James coos softly, his slightly condescending tone from earlier long gone. You're faced with a comforting smile on his bruising lips once you follow his request. "Good girl. It's just you and me in this room, alright? No one else gets to see you like this, just me. Be here with me and be present, baby. Let's make this last while we can. There's no need to be shy with me when I'm already fully hard in my pants from just kissing you and seeing you laid out for me like this."

You take in a deep breath as James begins to move once again, his mouth replacing his hands, which now climb their way up to your hips to hold them in place. Firm and wet kisses are placed unevenly on your now trembling thighs, your hesitancy now the least of your worries as he sucks a mark into your reddening skin. Back arching up from the mattress as the musician bites into you without any warning, you reach down to fist a handful of his hair in a silent rebuttal, your bitten skin stinging pleasantly.

James moans out against you instead, the vibration being so close to your pussy that it makes you cry out loud, your underwear starting to stick to you as you feel your folds begin to dampen with your arousal.

"Please, James. I need to feel you, want to cum on your tongue." You plead, the throbbing of your cunt becoming borderline painful as he continues to touch and suck and lick anywhere that isn't where you truly needed him. James grins against your skin as you plead and beg, before slowly making his way up to your awaiting sex and placing a teasing kiss to your swollen and clothed clit.

"Is this where you need me, bell? Need me to fuck you with my tongue, have you dripping down my chin as you cum all over me?" You open your mouth to respond, before widening into a gape as his heavy and hot tongue swipes against the cotton, the warmth of his mouth a stark contrast to the coldness of the room. James' eyes nearly close in ecstasy as your essence blankets his tastebuds, his cockhead leaking pathetically through the rough denim.

Using his teeth to move the soaked cotton to the side, James pulses forward to spontaneously caress the tip of his tongue against your opening, while his nose rubs insistently against your bud in tandem. "Oh God!" You scream out, your hips overpowering his hands holding you down and your left leg raising to wrap itself around his shoulder. "I'm sorry." You gasp, before grinding your hips up and fucking his face, bellowing out a chant of his name as his tongue slides into your hole.

Reaching down to grasp onto your right leg and place it onto his other shoulder, James replaces his tongue with an index and middle finger as he raises his head to harshly suck at your clit.

Your thighs begin to seize as you feel his facial hair indent itself into your skin, your thrusts turning wild and uncoordinated as he curls his fingers upward and brushes against your g-spot. "I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum." You whimper, tears springing to your eyes as the orgasm building in your groin begins to feel almost overwhelming.

Lifting his head to look up at you, James watches you with intense eyes as his fingers thrust into you relentlessly, his other hand coming down to pinch and rub at your swollen nub. "Cum for me baby, you can do it for me. Such a fucking good girl, making a mess of me." Slick glistens against his beard and runs down his thick neck, his nose soaking wet with your essence and his facial expression completely fucked out and hair disheveled.

James smirks as he feels your walls begin to erratically convulse around his fingers and places a soft kiss to your bruising skin, before fucking them into you at an even faster place. You gasp out an expletive and tremor as he roughly pushes his thumb against your clit and scissors his digits, your sudden release and the force of it causing you to bow and curl around the man pleasuring you. Tears stream down your cheeks while you simultaneously try to catch your breath, slowly beginning to come back to as James carefully lowers your legs and beckons you into his arms.

"You did so well, doll." He tells you as he encircles his arms around your trembling waist, careful not to have you rub against the rough fabric of the sheets covering the bed. "Took care of me so well." You rebut shakily, lifting your head up from his shoulder to begin a slow trail of kisses down his neck.

"You don't have to, baby. I'll be just fine." He tries to reassure you, but to no avail. Leaning back to look him in the eye, you sneakily raise your foot and press your toes into the large bulge almost bursting against the seams of his zipper. James groans out at the dizzying relief the pressure gives him, before his eyes snap open as you abruptly stop.

"Do you have any idea how I felt when I first saw you?" You ask him once you finally stabilize, his lips quirking up at the familiar sounding words despite of the sexual frustration he felt. James raises an eyebrow as you offer him a hand, but takes it, nonetheless. Tugging him on top of you once he's fully stood, James instinctively catches himself on his forearms before he could place all of his weight on you, his large thighs pressing you into the mattress. "I thought you were the most handsome man I've ever seen and met, with a personality to match. So gentlemanlike to walk me back to my room and make sure the room attached to mine would also be yours. With an ass so full, even a girl like me couldn't help but want to grab onto."

You grin victoriously to yourself as you watch a flustered expression grow on his face, before you gently guide him down into a fulfilling kiss. Allowing him to take the lead once you two find a synergistic rhythm, you moan into his wet heat as his tongue runs against the top of your mouth. Spit lines connect the two of you as you break apart, you licking your lips to collect it as your own before you motion for him to pull his shirt over his head. Reaching down to unbuckle his belt and push his jeans and briefs past the swell of his ass, your eyes widen as his hot length smacks against the top of your pubic bone.

"So, you're a big boy in more than one way, huh?" Lips stretching in a wide smile as his cock jumps in response and his face begins to flush even further, you teasingly and blindly run your index finger down his long shaft.

James lets out a resounding moan as you wrap your hand around his girth and stroke upwards, the amount of precum seeping down his length allowing it to be a comfortable slide. Pressing your thumb into his tip and reaching down to cup his balls in a firm grip, you whisper against him as he gasps out your name. "You going to let me make you feel good, help me make you cum inside of me?"

"Yes, baby. Want to push my seed inside of you as deep as it can go, want you to be sore and feel me stretching you out days later." James pants out against you, the veins in his dick pulsating wildly against your palm. Resting your head against the sheets below you and making sure to maintain eye contact, you position his tip to your entrance and raise your hips to slowly thrust his cockhead in. You both sharply inhale in unison, his cock stretching your walls open in a way you thought wasn't even possible.

James clenches his jaw shut, forcing himself not to move as you slowly shift yourself down his overly sensitive shaft. Your lips part in a silent cry as you bottom out, the overwhelmingly full feeling causing tears to swell in your eyes once again. "I swear, I can feel you in my stomach." You whisper out, your shaky exhale turning into a whine as James unintentionally moves forward and brushes against your cervix.

Lifting your legs to wrap them around the sweaty lower part of his back, your walls subconsciously tighten around him as you make yourself more comfortable. James grunts out above you before sliding his hands down to your waist and shifting his weight onto the backs of his thighs. Darkened blue eyes stare down at you with desperation, quietly pleading to move as their owner tenses up his shoulders with physical restraint.

"You can move." You murmur up at him, the tightening coil in your midsection threatening to snap and break apart as you watch his facial expression relax with relief. James' grip strengthens around you as he thrusts forward, his irises blown wide as your walls accommodate to the thick stretch of him and his movement. Gasping out as his thrusts begin to roughen and his ballsack begins to smack against the sensitive skin of your ass, you reach up to encircle your arms around his neck as his hips begin to push you up the bed.

"Just like that, just like that." You plead as the underside of his cock slides against your sponge-like spot, a gush of your slick pulsing out and steadily dripping down onto the ruined sheets beneath you.

"Fucking look at you, taking me so well," James moans out from above, his fingertips pressing bruises into your skin as he lifts your waist up from the bed. "Made for me to fuck into. So soaking wet for me." You flush red and scream out as he propels his dick even further inside of you, the bedpost noisily making contact with the chipping wall from the force of the drive of his hips.

Your thighs tremble around him as he begins to lift you up and down his cock, the sound becoming audible as you fall silent, your orgasm forcing you to quiet down. James curses out as he feels his balls raise and tighten, the orgasm coursing through you causing you to constrict around him. Whining out as you begin to feel overstimulated as he pistons himself into you and against every right spot, you try to shift back in his hold, before crying out as one of his hands slide down and makes contact with your asscheek.

"Don't run from me, baby. Thought you wanted to make me feel good, wanted to help me make you feel nice and sore for days after?" He taunts you, his grip holding you in place once again as he relentlessly fucks you deep into the creaking mattress underneath the two of you. "Take it like a good girl, like I know you know how to be."

You nod vehemently and hold onto him desperately and he has his way with you, despite the fact that you were barely holding on, so fucked out you felt like you couldn't even formulate a single thought or word as he impales you with a rough and irregular pattern. James lifts you up onto his lap as his thrusts begin to become shorter and harsher, his tip seemingly feeling like it was going past your cervix and straight into your uterus. James pants above you and lightly wraps his hand around your throat as your head lolls to the side, forcing you to look up at him with unfocused eyes.

"You're doing so good for me, bell. Just a little while longer, alright? Such a pretty mess, all for me." The praise goes straight to your head as you feel yourself come back down to earth as he sends you a satisfied grin, the sweat beading down his temples from the exertion making its way down his chin and landing on your breasts. You shiver as the cool air makes its way over to the droplets and dries them against your skin, the frigid air causing your nipples to harden and sensitize as they're brushed against James' chest.

"Cum for me," You moan out, swallowing thickly as his hand delicately tightens around your neck, the slight depravation of air making your voice sound breathy. "Making me feel so good, can't you feel it?" You tighten your walls around him with a clench, causing him to let out a whine on top of you, his chin leaning forward to rest against the top of your head as his cock begins to spurt its seed inside of you.

James' hand around your throat shakily slides back to your nape, his fingers twisting themselves in your hair for purchase and holding you in place as he steadily empties himself. You close your eyes in content as you feel his warmth fill you to the brim. Taking in a deep breath to ground himself, James gently untangles himself from you before wrapping his hands around your middle to lift you up.

"Not yet, still want to feel you." You protest weakly, leaning back in his grasp until he gets the hint to allow you to lie back on the soiled sheets and bedding. James nods and bends down to place a placating kiss on your lips before carefully flipping you over, situating you on top of him so your head can rest comfortably on his heaving upper half.

You close your eyes tiredly as you feel his calloused palm slide down your spine in a comforting manner, the rise and fall of his chest and erratic heartbeat almost lulling you to bed, before your eyes snap open at the sound of multiple heavy and drunken pairs of feet stumbling their way into the motel room right next to yours.

James looks over at the wall in horror as he realizes that in his haste to get over to you, he forgot to close and lock the double-sided door. You let out a yelp as he jolts up in a sitting position with you still on top of him, your hands scrambling to hold onto his shoulders as he yanks the sheets from underneath the two of you as a set of dazed eyes peep their way through the opening.

"Oh shit!" Jason yells out as he makes eye contact with you frozen on top of James, your bare breasts hanging out of the yanked down and almost torn sleep dress haphazardly draped around you. "Get the fuck out!" James screams back at him, throwing a pillow and narrowly missing the crown of his head as he quickly tucks the sheet around you.

"What the fuck is going on?" Lars slurs out, before letting out an embarrassingly high sound as his drunken bandmate slides back into the other room and tackles him onto the carpet. "Nothing, do not go in there, man!" James groans and drops his head back on the bed, one of his hands unwrapping from around you to reach up and rub at his eyes.

"I am so fucking sorry." James apologizes, before lifting his head to look at you, perplexed. Uncontrollable giggles pour out of you as you sit up and plop yourself between his legs, your hand clutching onto your stomach as your breath is stolen from you once again. James' lips raise at the joyous sound coming from you, before sitting up himself and wrapping an arm around your shoulder.

"Well, that's one way of meeting the rest of the band." You muse, humor heavy in your tone as you finally re-collect yourself and lean back against his bicep. James grins to himself before wrapping his arm around you and twisting you down back into bed, a laugh of his own filling the room as you let out a shocked squeak.

"Don't worry babe, you still haven't met Kirk yet." He reassures you, before descending down on top of you and kissing away the rest of the laughter that finds its way through your swollen and smiling lips.

Lars gives up underneath Jason as he realizes struggling against him is futile, the bassist easily overpowering him and pinning him down within the first few seconds. The Dane goes to open his mouth to spit out an insult, before freezing in place as a breathy, feminine laugh bleeds through the opening door and into their room.

"Is that a girl?" He asks, his lips spreading and forming into a wide grin as Jason unconvincingly responds with a "No!"

Lars shakes his head and lets out a drunken laugh as Jason rolls off of him and lies down next to him instead. The bassist closes his eyes in tired defeat, a partial amount of his curls landing on his friend's shoulder as Lars stares up at the stained ceiling with hilarity-filled eyes.

"James, you slimy bastard."

#metallica #james hetfield #james hetfield smut #james hetfield x reader #james hetfield fluff #metallica imagines #metallica smut #metallica x reader

[melovelydove]

Stuck in the Middle

Taiju Shiba x Reader x South Terano

A/N: I love both of these men, even tho I know I'm not to, but what can I say, I love me some big strong men (and big strong women but that is beside the pont)

Purple=Both

South=Green

Taiju=Blue

Pink=You

Warning: Smut, Threesome, Fluff, Arguing/Fighting(the guys do), Blood, Cuddles, Daddy kink, Pet names(princess, kitten, etc.), and Cursing

Living with 2 men who were really tall and strong was a bit difficult. South being 7 ft and Tajiu being 6,5 was kinda difficult and them being in different gangs made it a bit more of a problem because it was hard for them to get along half of the time.

You had meant South on the day you were doing a bit of grocery shopping with your mom and spotted him staring at a shelf of (Your favorite snack) and you were to scared to ask him to move because of his terrifying hight so you waited. When South finally moved out the way you smiled and immediately went to the shelf and tried to reach for them but unfortunately they were on the top shelf so you tried to stand on the bottom shelf to grab them and as you grabbed them, you slipped and was falling. You closed your eyes waiting for the impact of the ground only to feel a par of arms under you. You opened your eyes and see South staring down at you. You had immediately got up from him and bowed. "T-thank you!" , He continued to stare at you before smiling a bit, "no problem, I'm South or Minami Terano..", you were shocked a bit before blushing from the way he stood over you. You smiled back, "(Y-Y/N) (L/N)".

Now when you met Taiju it wasn't at all this peaceful. You were literally just minding your business and you turn the corner to see a group of guys on the ground and one getting the SHIT beat out of him by Taiju. You had froze up at the scene in front of you. "U-um...". He looks over and drops the guy he was holding. "Shit...Tch.". You look up at the man and he began to walk towards you and once he was near you, he stood over you. "What.", "N-nothing..", He continued to stare down at you before grabbing out his phone and handing it to you. "Huh?!", "Your number, give it to me", before typing your number into his phone, "I'm Taiju. You?", You bite your lip a bit not knowing if you should give him your name, "I'm (Y/n).."

Ever since those days they have just been following you around like 2 huge angry looking dogs protecting their toy, although half of the time they dont get along.

Today was odd, you woke up as usual to do your daily routine:

Get up

Shower and brush you teeth

Get dessed

Eat breakfast

Watch tv

Then wait a while till you had to go to work

But to was different, it was... Quite?

By now your show would have interrupted by the sound of 2 loud voices and banging on the door at the same time every day but it's wasn't. Which you were grateful for till seconds later, there it was, the sounds of yelling from 2 of the tallest men you ever met. As you got up and opened the door you were greeted by Taiju pushing South and South pulling Taiju's hair. "Oh my god! Can the 2 of you please try and get along!", You go inside leaving the door open. "Oh princess I'm sorry, this BASTURD just won't fuck off". "YOU PIECE OF SH-", "AHHHHH Shut up!! Is there any way you can actually get along?", they look at each other, "Tch." They look away from each other. "Hell no." South walks to the couch and sits down, legs open wide, man strading with his arms swing behind the sofa, as Taiju leans on the wall.

"Is there anything you both like that you can use to help you get along?"

That was the line that got you into this mess.

Sandwich between the 2 men on the couch with only your underwear on and them in only their boxers.

Taiju under you, laying on his back with you and South between his legs and his mouth pressed up against your breast with your nipple being played with by his tongue.

South right behide you grinding his dick against your ass with his hands on your hips.

"A-Ahh South! Taiju! H-hold on wait a min- Ahh! Stop i-it!~" You moaned out as Taiju grinded his fingers against your clothed clit with a smirk plastered on his face.

"Just relax" Taiju spoke before placing a large hand again your breast, "I can promise you it's gonna feel nice and good, we will try our best not to hurt you" He chuckles before kissing you and South begins kissing your shoulder.

"We're gonna take good care of you" South spoke up.

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers south #tokyo revengers taiju #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers taiju shiba #taiju shiba #south terano x reader #south terano #taiju shiba x reader #tokyo rev smut #terano south x reader #terano south x reader x taiju shiba

[damiansgoodgirll]

Can you do one with yn being in love with Kylian but he just want to have fun and do not think about love right now and just want to sleep with yn but she doesn’t want that because she knows he is playing with her and then he falls in love with her but it was to late she already found someone who respects her and loves her

i’m definitely feeling this because i’m just ended a situationship/relationship with a man, an older man, so reader is practically my pov, i really hope you can’t relate because i feel like sh!t so, here’s a sad one!

kylian mbappe x reader

strangers

you couldn’t deny how you felt everytime you were with kylian. he made your heart beating so fast, you were afraid it would explode. he was kind and caring with you, always paying for your nights out, always driving you home and making you feel safe. you spent nights just talking with each other, getting to know him better.

you really thought he was interested in you, you hoped so but when one night you declined his offer of staying at his place, you slowly saw how he started losing interest in you.

you were the one to text first.

you were the one to call first.

you were the one to make sure he was okay and that he wasn’t overloading himself with work.

but he just stopped caring about you.

leaving you on read. you waiting hours and hours, even days to get a simple reply back. you’ve spent sleepless nights thinking of what you did wrong, of what you could do better. your mind was wandering around the constant feeling of not being enough.

he was the kylian mbappè.

he was probably fucking a different girl every night.

everything he gave you were short replies with “okay” “sure” “whatever” and “yes”. and honestly it was killing you inside. you knew he was busy but the first time you started texting, he always made sure to give you a good morning and a goodnight, texting you first in the morning and making sure you were okay.

you’ve spent days going through your old messages. seeing how eager he was to meet you.

and when you met everything felt amazing. you felt the spark with him. when his hand touched your thigh when he was driving you back home or when his lips met yours as a kiss goodnight. everything felt right until it wasn’t.

when you said to him you were looking for something more serious, you didn’t expect him to completely block you out of his life. he told you he didn’t want anything serious and you had no idea of how to feel.

why would he be so kind if he didn’t mean anything of that?

just - why?

you’ve thought so many times about texting him “hey, can we meet?” “hey, we need to talk…” but you stopped, knowing that you would probably look more desperate than how you really were.

but you did try in the end and that was when you realised it was over. he ignored you, he pretended you never existed and in the back of your mind you knew he wasn’t even thinking about you anymore.

“i can’t believe i fell for that dick!” you screamed to yourself one night, when you were home alone, crying your eyes out because you felt used. you felt like a whore, and it took you too long to realise that he was only using your body.

but then kylian wanted you back.

he got bored of the same superficial girl, he wanted someone real and he wanted you.

you knew it was too late. you knew that if you fell for kylian once again it would be over for you so this time, you were the one who blocked him out of your life.

you wanted to find something new, feel something new and with kylian by your side, you knew it would have been impossible.

so you let him go. no matter how much it was fucking killing you. you needed to work on yourself and you needed to heal first, that’s why you became your first priority.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

this felt more like a letter to myself but i really needed this.

#football one shot #football fluff #football fanfic #football fan #football imagine #football smut #football imagines #football story #football headcanon #football x you #football x reader #football x y/n #football x oc #kylian imagines #kylian fluff #kylian mbappè imagine #kylian mbappe x reader #kylian mbappe x y/n #kylian mbappe angst #kylian mbappe x you #kylian mbappe smut #kylian mbappe imagines #kylian mbappe #kylian mbappe one shot #kylian mbappe fluff #kylian angst #kylian mbappe imagine #kylian x oc #kylian x reader #kylian x you

[blue-sunflower-bee]

Back with some more headcanons about them cause i cant get them out of my head.

Part 1 :

Ness loves to make jokes about their height difference. With everyone else Mike would be hella annoyed...but he just finds Ness incredibly cute when he giggles about his own silly puns.

Mike being the little spoon tho.

Ness is on the ace spectrum and Mike is really supportive and understanding. Sex just isnt important for either of them

But Ness has a thing for kissing Mike's hands, he'll just start pressing gentle kisses against Mike's palm and Mike always freezes when that happens, forgetting what he was about to say

Ness struggles with panic attacks; he learnt to deal with them over the years, but they are still present. The night Mike met him after work and he seemed down was a particularly rough night for Ness since a bad panic attack had hit him after a longer break during work. Because of that, he didnt really register what a customer had said and mixed up her orders. She made a huge scene and yelled at him, how useless he is at his job and sh*t.

Needless to say, Mike was SO ready to throw hands once Ness told him that story.

Same as Abby. They'd both get into fights for him.

Ness being the dorky boyfriend he is LOVES to flirt with Mike when he visits Sparky's, throwing really corny pick up lines at him. Mike answering them deadpan while he's blushing. "Are you an electrician? Because you’re definitely lighting up my day!" "Ness, you know I work as a security guard..."

Ness loves animals. During a surprise date, Mike took him to a petting zoo and was afraid it was a dumb idea, until he saw Ness' face light as soon as he saw all the animals

#its 2 am and sleep is forthe week #fnaf #fnaf movie 2023 #five nights at freddy's #mike schmidt #ness the waiter #mike x ness #securitywaiter #pride

[danaredbeard]

The real reason the CRM fell so quickly.

Rick was imprisoned by force even kept on a leash at the beginning and did everything to escape. Later, he imprisoned himself by fear. He was afraid of the three pages of scrawl that Jadis wrote about his family and community. That is why Michonne tore it up and cried, this stupid piece of paper kept him away from her for years.

Listening to this lunatic Beale you could see Rick almost physically get sick. All these years he lost because a Beta b$tch has Daddy Issues. Later Rick tells Michonne he is just angry at the loss of time with his family.

In the end the CRM was just a bunch of B’s clinging to each other in hopes of survival by destroying those who may challenge them. The only part of the Echelon Briefing I think Jadis and Pearl heard was that they will be in elite company and safe.

People keep saying it is “rushed”. How? At this point can’t we tell a Beta B$tch a mile off? He killed Omaha, gassed Michonne and her friends, should they have waited for him to kill Portland… to make sure he is a bone fide Big Baddie? The opportunity presented itself… and that is who they are they “Make sh!t happen”. It could have been stretched out, Rick was disgusted and now he was the one begging Michonne that he wanted to just go home.

At the end of the day, there is no difference between Beale and the 3 scroungers Rick and Michonne saved in the woods who then turned on them. Beale just took an opportunity that presented itself and killed off another city to protect himself. Rick and Michonne are doing the same with this opportunity “Live by the sword of opportunity, die by the sword of opportunity” or something like that.

Michonne spent an entire episode breaking the mental chains the CRM had on Rick. Episode 6 was the payoff he had to return to the scene of the crime and see clearly, no hesistation. He saw his only friend Thorne was too far gone to be save and he saw that Beale was a lunatic. What he saw made him angry that he wasted so much of his life with these fools.

Michonne gave him Clarity.

This is the world Shane would have created… and it is ugly.

I like that they did not glorify yet another sociopath with fascist tendencies.

So not rushed, also the CRM still exist all Rick and Michonne did was cut out the cancerous part.

What I would like to see for the future: I always considered Rick in the model of Cincinnatus, the reluctant Roman leader. He was asked to became an absolute dictator and when order was restored he quit and went back to his farm.

If there is a season 2, I see Rick being begged to take over the CRM and lead the fight against the doomsday clock of humanity.

#the ones who live #the walking dead #rick grimes #michonne grimes #towl #twd towl #richonne #michonne #towl spoilers #twd spoilers

[lovelystarlightsblog]

Motherly reader babying them~

(So reader is a loving Mommy type that loves babying and spoiling them. So after awhile she somehow manage to bring up their Inner child)

Albert James Moriarty

He was a little uncomfortable with the thought of being spoiled. Like, him? Spoiled? He beg to differ. But after he met you. All he could say is…. Well sh!t..

He was never the spoiled type (that’s what he thought), if anything he would be the one spoiling his S/O. But now he could only question how the hell did he end up here while sitting sideways on your lap.

He was honestly embarrassed by it. Wasn’t it supposed to be the other way around? Well, not anymore….

He wasn’t familiar with motherly love considering his childhood. He was never felt like he was accepted in his “Family” so mothers love wasn’t something he can Imagine to have.

After he met you he feel like he found something that was missing his whole entire life. He never felt so safe, so comfortable, so……. Happy….

At the start of the relationship, it was something small and simple things like serving and feeding him cookies, and then leads to wrapping him in blankets and cuddle him the whole night (You’re the big spoon obviously), which also leads you into tucking him in before bed and sing him a lullaby, and also leads you to cradling him when he had a hard day…..

He was really embarrassed to say the least. He was treated like a child! And for some reason it makes him feel so warm inside.

He likes it…..

He will never admit to anyone, not even when someone threatens him death. But he loves how you treat him like a child, he loves how you spoil him so much with your loving. You’ve awaken his inner child he never knew he had.

As time goes on the others start to notice how Albert’s behavior is slowly start to become more… Childlike….

Like how he looks at you so excitedly like a child seeing his birthday present when he finally gets back, or when you’re home after going out to get groceries. Or how he becomes 970% more clingy than he used to. And how he always clings onto you when you’re sitting together or you’re just talking with someone else.

Well… They’re not the only one who realized it. Cause I’m pretty sure that Albert would realize it sooner than they do. But despite that he’s not stopping it at all…. What kind of spell did you used on him?!

Nobody ACTUALLY complains about it, maybe Moran would tease him but he would get the most terrifying glare, that it can make the devil look like a baby kitten. He notes himself that he would NEVER tease Albert about it ever again.

But when someone else points it out…. Let’s just say that he never wanted to jump out of the window so bad in his whole entire life.

He’s conflicted. He’s a grown up adult, he’s not supposed to be treated as a child nor act like one. But at the same time it just feels soo good that he’d be a liar if he said he didn’t like it! Not like he can stop even if he wants to.

He was honestly quite self-conscious about it. He feels like he should stop letting you treat him like a child so much, but he also craves for it. He can’t decide whether to stop you or letting you do anything to him.

He once told you how he feel a little ashamed of liking all those childish things. But you told him that there’s nothing wrong with enjoying all those things. Everyone has their own inner child and everyone always want to feel loved. And that actually made Albert feel a lot better hearing you say that.

After some time, he lets himself loose and let you do more “lovey” things like cradling and other babyish things. He also really likes how you spoon fed him, but he only let’s you do that in private.

William and Louise also notice Albert’s childlike behavior. And neither of them judges him. In fact, they’re happy that Albert is able to feel happy and comfortable with someone. And they really do appreciate your company cause they haven’t seen Albert so content and happy before. So that really made Albert relieved.

He loves the way you scratch his back while he’s cuddling you (I love back scratches, y’all knew this was coming). He always wraps his arms around you as he lays his head on your chest while you softly scratch his back. He’s the big spoon most of the time, but sometimes he’s the little spoon when he’s feeling tired or down.

And then… There’s cradling, OH THE CRADLING!! He’ll be DAMNED if anyone else knows about this, but he he craves to be cradled! It’s probably one of the most babyish things he actually enjoy but boy he loves it!

It’s just… The way you hold him while he sits on your lap and rocking him slowly (god that’s adorable) and having his head resting on you. He has never felt so safe and comfortable in his life. It’s embarrassing and he loves it so damn much.

It would take a lot of time for Albert to accept his “tendencies” he’ll try to be a lot more open with his childlike behaviors. Of course he won’t show that side of him to anyone, but now he’s a bit more open to admitting his “tendencies”. He’ll also let himself act a bit more spoiled to you and enjoys how he’s treated as a child.

And once that finally happens you’ll realize how adorably spoiled he is. Like how he ask you to sing him to sleep, making him and feeding him cookies, clinging onto you, and running up to you when you get back. It was incredibly adorable and beyond cute!

Of course that doesn’t mean he’s not serious with his work on taking care of the nobles. It’s just that whenever he takes a break he always know where to go and what can make him feel so much better after all that. And that’s something he will never take for granted.

Of course he will try to pay you back. (Even tough he feels like he will never be able to). Like treating you out for dinner, buying you gifts, getting whatever the hell you want (even if it’s as absurd as bringing home a lion). It’s just that… Words cannot express how thankful he is to have you and you make everything so worth it in this life…

He has never felt so happy….

Wow….

This is one of the most tooth-rooting, stomach stirring, diabetic thing I have ever wrote…

I’m so proud of it…

#headcanons #mtp headcanons #albert james moriarty #moriarty the patriot headcanon #moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty the patriot #mommy reader

[johnwickb1tsch]

A Yandere Tex Johnson x Witness!Reader x John Wick Imagine Part 7 by:

@treedaddymcpuffpuff @sweetwolfcupcake @johnwickb1tsch and @tammykelly

Warnings: So many dead doves! Do not eat! Unless you like dead doves, that is. You're in good company here. 😘 Violence, sexual content, blood, murder, kidnapping, possessive behavior, dubcon, yandere sh!t...it's all here! Please take care! 😘

ALL CHAPTERS

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

They take you outside. They take you outside.

“Which house is this, John?” You lay your head on his shoulder, and he kisses your hair. 

“Mexico.” The fact that he feels comfortable telling you where you are speaks volumes about trust. 

Either that, or he’s confident you won’t get away. Ever. And he’s absolutely right. He can outrun, outmuscle, outwit you at any point. Not to mention he’s got a clone with the same capabilities. 

Part of it is this; the fact that you can’t run or hide without your boys finding you. The knowledge of being owned and tracked and possessed wholly. 

The other part, the one you lie to yourself about - you have to, really, for the sake of self preservation - is that you’re completely in love with them. Smitten. Consumed. Captivated and bewitched by your captors. You don’t want to run away most days.

Especially not when you’re pressed between them and being pampered and kissed and played with - sweet, awful pleasure the only thing you can focus on. Absolutely drunk on the balance of rough and soft, light and dark.

Tex is good with his mouth - of course he is. That silver tongue can do more than talk you into a writhing, soaked mess. As much as he adores helping John edge you for hours and making you sob in frustration, he likes it a little better when you’re overstimulated, babbling and bargaining, only able to chant his name as he makes you cum endlessly.

John is… different. Slower. More patient. Builds you up and down, watches and listens, observes - tilt of his head, tiny smile, “pretty girl likes that a little too much, huh?” 

He’s sickly romantic, the kind that only exists in Hallmark movies. Always thinking of you, grabbing flowers and little gifts while he’s away. Bringing home trinkets from Paris and Brazil and even bumfuck Ohio. Obsessed with kissing you, holding your hand, calling you beautiful and pulling you closer and ruining your little heart. 

Even when he’s rough, fucking you into the couch cushions at an almost inhumanely pace and mottling your cervix and hips and ass with bruises - even then he is rubbing your back, brushing your hair off your shoulders and littering sweet soaked kisses on your skin, praising and sweet-nothinging and groaning that you’re his, his, his. 

Tex presses himself into the other side of you, skin sparkling and scratchy from salt and sand, and hands you a beautiful iridescent pink seashell. “Get in the water.” 

“You’re not the boss of me,” you tell him, grinning, brushing sand off his cheekbone. 

He chuckles. “Nah, but Johnny is.”

They both pick you up and drag you into the clear ocean ripples while you laugh and scream, take you out past where you can touch so you have to cling to them. 

Sometimes, though, you want to run. Taste freedom and independence again. You want to feel needed instead of always being so needy. You miss volunteering at the animal shelter, working in the little book shop. 

Sure, the boys want you. Sometimes, too much. Sometimes, you have to use that lock on your little cozy nook room to shut them out because you’re so overwhelmed and overworked. But they don’t need you, can’t really gain anything from you; not like the sick, dirty cats or the elderly women who forgot their reading glasses and need help finding a particular selection. 

After you’re done playing in the water like children, laughing and splashing and getting sun drunk, you find yourself wrapped in a beach towel and cat napping on the big couch by the bay window. 

“Wanna wake her up?” Tex asks John, plopping down beside him and offering an open, frosty beer. 

“Let her sleep,” John says, flipping the page of his book and taking the drink. 

Tex grins. “Aw, I don’t think she’d be too disappointed after she realizes I’m sucking on her little clit.” 

John shuts his book, puts it on the stand. 

“What?” Tex groans like he’s about to get lectured. Just like you’ve become used to them, they’ve become used to each other. Sometimes it’s a recipe for disaster. The first day you were alert enough to wake up and eat and drink after the bullet, they got into a fight. And not a verbal one. 

It was actually terrifying. You thought Tex was going to meet the pearly gates when John curb stomped his already beaten face, so you had jumped in front of him to stop the next smash of a foot and earned yourself torn stitches and bloody bandages as a reward for the sudden movement. 

“We need to figure out what we’re doing, Tex.” John looks over at you, watches how the sunlight bastes your shoulders and glows on your pretty skin. 

Tex is looking at the same thing. “I’m not leavin’ er, John. And she sure as hell ain’t leavin’ me.” 

“She needs to make that decision.” 

“My ass. You think she’ll be safe out there? Think just cuz you put a bullet into father and son that sister and mother won’t come knockin next?” Tex takes a long pull on his bottle and leans elbows on knees. “You can go if you want, but y/n is stayin’ with me.”

John gives him a dark look. “You know I won’t let you, Tex.” 

Tex laughs cruelly, leans back and spreads his arms over the back of the couch. “Then you’re gonna have to fuckin’ kill me.” 

“John? Tex?” Your tinny voice cuts through their tension, immediately gaining full attentions. You hold out your hand to them, eyes half lidded, smiling softly. “Come lay with me?” 

They sandwich you between their big heated bodies, curing the goosebumps brought on by the conditioned air. It reminds you too much of the cold steel room where Bradford kept you on ice, so you start to cry. Again. 

It’s become such a common occurrence, now: one or both of them cradling and shushing and rubbing your back as you sob on their chests or laps. You cry more often than not. Sometimes you’re able to hide it, but not right now when you’re sleepy and vulnerable and so close to them. 

Tex kisses the tears off your face. “Hey, honeypie, it’s alright, c’mon, I gotcha.”

“We’re right here, y/n.” John brushes the hair off your shoulders and kisses your salty sunned skin. “We’ll protect you.”

“Nobody’s gonna hurt you again, m’kay?” Tex tilts your chin up and kisses your head. 

You wonder how in the hell they’re still so empathetic to your plight - any other man would be annoyed, telling you to let it go, reminding you that you’ve already cried about it a zillion times before. But not Tex and John. Never your boys. 

They say they’ll protect you, but if they’ve already failed to do so, doesn’t that mean they can drop the ball again? Doesn’t that mean anyone could just come and plummet you into an unbridled world of violence and torture? What if they leave? What if they decide they don’t want you anymore? You’re helpless here - can only rely solely on the two people you’re cuddled between and it’s making you spiral into an internal inferno of chaos and doubt. 

You feel like you’re losing your fucking mind. You feel powerless. 

You fall asleep in their arms, fresh tears drying on your puffy cheeks, holding onto Tex’s waist, legs wrapped around John’s calves. 

They wake you up for dinner, and you’re in a shit mood again, all venom no honey, squirming out of the cuddle pile, glowering and losing your towel in the process. 

Before you can grab it back, Tex snatches it, holds it away, grinning. 

“Give it back,” you tell him, trying to take it but only succeeding in pressing your belly into his beard.

He nips your skin and blows a little raspberry, and you screech, pulling away before a puckish arm can coil around your waste. 

You groan, cover yourself, shivering on the cool wood floor. “Fine. I’m going to take a shower.” 

“Need some help?” Tex asks. 

“I can manage.” 

You can feel his eyes on your ass as you walk away. 

Do you feel bad about being bitchy? A little bit. Although it never really deters Tex. As much as he complains about your attitude problems, he gets ten times more impish when you have them. You just wish you didn’t find him so incredibly damn hot while he’s handling you like he would an angry hamster. 

While you’re showering, whatever John is cooking smells delightful. It wafts around you, mixes with the hot steam of the shower, makes your stomach clench in longing. Hangry, then, maybe. 

Pressing on your ribs wrong while you’re lathering still gets you groaning in pain. It’s taking a long time for this shit to heal, and it makes you wonder how exactly John can just take one and keep going like it’s a normal Tuesday. Your first few days of consciousness were agony. Morphine, IV drips, rolling the wrong way and screaming, John’s hands always two seconds away from wrapping around Tex’s throat. 

“Please stop fighting,” you had asked them, woken not by their bickering but John’s low, guttural growl. 

Four hands immediately on you, soothing, cooing, feathering over your skin like it was made of glass. You sort of felt like the oblivious kid in the divorce. They were so mean with one another, but always so soft with you. It was when you asked them to get along like they had been before that they actually started to try. 

Honestly, though, them actually getting along means your undoing every single time. There are no upper hands to be had against the two when they share one common goal, and usually you’re the one begging in the end. 

Your tiny crumb of power, whether you like it or not, is contained in feminine wiles, and sometimes you use it just to spite them. Especially since they can’t be rough with you because you’re still healing from said nasty bullet. 

You pick out a pair of cheeky lace and silk panties and grab some cotton shorts that make your ass look great to pair with them. To literally top it off, you slip on a shifty tank top that leaves little to the imagination. 

You check yourself in the mirror, turn around a few times, smooth your hands down your tummy and legs, bite your lip to plump it up a little bit. Fuck the shorts. You slide them off and leave yourself in the panties and tank top. 

Now, you’re ready. 

You feel like the vulnerable bunny walking into a cage of chained Dobermans. All eyes on you. You press the issue, bend down in front of them to pick up something John dropped. 

You think maybe this will be the night he actually fucks up and maybe burns a piece of chicken, and, oh, wouldn’t that scratch your ego just right. 

You press into him, lean your weight against his solid mass because you know he can handle it, and put the towel back onto the counter. “John Wick leaving a rag on the floor?” You tsk. “Sloppy tonight, eh?” 

He raises an eyebrow down at you.

You tuck a rogue hair behind his ear, pausing to tickle your finger over the sensitive shell, and then turn your attention onto Tex. 

He’s all hooded eyes and bobbing Adam’s apple while you saunter up to him and fix the collar on his shirt. “Not you too,” you sigh, grinning his devil’s grin right back at him. 

“Playing a dangerous game, rattlesnake,” he tells you, tugging softly on the bottom of your top. 

You try to remain composed, take the seat beside him. “Sure, Tex.” A little eye roll. 

“Someone wants to sit funny for a few days, huh?” He grabs the bottom of your chair and tugs you closer. 

“Are you forgetting who took a literal bullet for your ass?” You ask him, pursing your lips and batting your eyelashes. 

John chuckles. 

“You’re about to take more than that for me—”

John surprises you both. It’s hard to get used to his constant stealth mode. He sets hot plates down in front of you, then takes his own place at the table. “Y/n, we need to talk.” 

“Great, I love hearing that.” 

He shoots you a stern look that reminds you he’s not Tex, and you back down, spiky fur softening.

“Things have settled down. No one is out for your blood anymore. You’re safe to settle down somewhere new with the bounty and start again.” 

Tex’s head twists so hard you hear his neck crack. “You sonofabitch, what did I say, huh?” 

John levels a glare back. “She needs to make her own decision.” 

Tex slams an open palm on the table, makes you jump and yelp. “I’m gonna—”

“Stop!” They both turn attention to you. Tears well on your bottom lashes, shoulders shaking in anger. “Really? All this time spent and you’re just gonna let me go? And act so—” you resist the urge to scream, but end up with a softer version of it -“fucking aloof about it?!” You whip around to face Tex. “And you, you fucking big bully, you just make all my decisions for me, huh?! Treat me like I’m incapable of thinking for myself.” Your yell drops to a quiet quiver, salty liquid spilling down your cheeks. “Both of you never even stopped once to ask me what I wanted. You’re both too concerned with using me. Like I’m some fuck toy who doesn’t have any say in…. In anything. And now you wanna end it?” You look back at John. “Just like that?” You shove your plate away. “I’m not your fucking chew toy.”

You stand up and walk out the door, slamming it for good measure, stomping and sobbing, following the sound of dark ocean waves. It’s pitch black out here, the only light provided by a shy, foggy moon. Still, you walk. You walk until your feet get sore and tired and you have to sit down on the sand and ruin your cute underwear. 

They don’t come after you, which you think would satisfy you, but, instead, it makes you even angrier. They don’t give a shit, and that’s apparent now. They don’t care and they never did. You selfishly hope there are more Bratva members out here with your name in their pocket just so you can prove a point. 

You sink into warm sand and sob on the dark beach, cresting waves drowning out your pathetic cries.  

Johnwickb1tsch:

It is late, by the time you return to the villa. You are listless and tired from crying. You see a single lamp on inside the house, but you don’t want to see them yet. A part of you yearns for them, even after your fight, like a missing limb, but the other half of you can’t stand the thought of facing them. They’ve been so sweet after your ordeal, and yet you know they’ll probably have cooked something diabolical up for you, for daring to show your true feelings about it all.

  You are covered in sand. It really does get into everything. At the poolside you strip down, using the outdoor shower to rinse off. The pool is infinity style, affording a view of the beach beyond. Subtle lighting around the courtyard throws the various tropical plants in dramatic shadow. Kroton, monstera, palm trees, organ cacti and prickly pear, and a pink bougainvillea bush that is almost as big as the house. You love the garden here. You love this house, if you’re being honest.  

You dive into the pool. It’s not very often you get to have it to yourself. Usually one or the other of the boys is shadowing you. Pulling at your swimsuit, stealing kisses and sending you to pieces in one way or another. You resent it, the effect they have on you, even as you’re not sure you can give it up.

Floating on your back, naked as a jaybird and looking up at the stars, you wonder what your life would even look like now, without them. Could you ever be content in the real world again, knowing who and what you left behind? Women would sell their souls to have just one of your assassins in their bed—and here you are, complaining that you have two.

If that’s not human nature in all its absurdity, you don’t know what is.

“Fuck,” you sigh. You want to scream it at the sky, but you don’t want to wake them, if they in fact are sleeping, and not sitting up in the shadows waiting to ambush you.

What do you want, actually? What would really make you happy?

It’s a question you’ve never been terribly good at answering for yourself, and that was before the shit got weird. You love animals. You’d enjoyed volunteering at the shelter. You imagine turning this beautiful compound into a fucking zoo of creatures who were discarded by people, if the boys gave you half the chance. That probably wouldn’t fly. And what if you all have to flee again? What would happen to the babies? It wouldn’t be responsible.

Then you think about what they might say, if you proposed conducting an actual relationship. Living in a place where you could come and go as you please, and not be kept in total isolation. Go to the fucking store without a hulking shadow of a bodyguard by your side. Get a cup of coffee, go to the library. They could come and go too. Dinner at seven. How was your day, honey? Well I popped a low-level state representative who wasn’t getting the picture from 600 yards, then I picked up my dry cleaning.

Ye gods. You have to keep reminding yourself that this is not normal.

“For a minute there I though we’d caught ourselves a mermaid.”

The silence could not last, of course.  

You right yourself to tread water in the deep end, looking up at Tex standing at the poolside with his muscular arms crossed. His face is thrown half in shadow, his eyes glittering like obsidian orbs; why does he have to be the most handsome man you’ve ever seen? Next to John, of course—but they’re practically fucking twins, even if they won’t admit their physical similarity.

 When Tex starts to pull off his t-shirt you pipe up, “Sure you want to do that? Mermaids are famous for drowning men.”

Tex pays you that wolfish baring of teeth, kindling a familiar fire in your belly. What is wrong with you, that you so love to fight with this dangerous man? He always wins. Every fucking time. And yet you keep coming back for more. Maybe you’re the crazy one. Doing the same thing over and over, expecting different results, and all that…

“Them’s big words, from a gal who can barely touch the bottom even in the shallow end…” he teases.

“Fuck you.” You splash at him, but he’s already shimmied out of his shorts and is jumping in with you. It’s a pleasure to watch him glide through the water, truth be told. Long of line, bare skin, sinewy muscle—it makes you mad all over again, how the sight of him moves you. He surfaces an arm’s length from you, spitting water playfully into the air while pushing his dark hair out of his face. When he reaches for you, you splash him in the face.

“Don’t touch me. I’m still mad at you.”

He makes a show of wiping water out of his eyes, even though he’s already soaking wet.

“Cuz I’m such a bully, huh? Always tellin’ you what to do?”

“Yeah.”

“C’mere, you little rattlesnake.”

It’s like arguing with a brick wall, and his grip on your arm won’t be dislodged. You already know this—but you kick out anyway. Your foot finds his ribs; the push of it makes your side ache. The “oomph” you get out of him in answer is almost worth it though, and for good measure you do your damndest to dunk him.

“Goddamn, woman,” he curses, spinning you in his arms so he can drag you to a part of the pool where at least he can stand.

“Let go of me.”

“Can you just listen for once?” There’s a surprising earnestness in this request that makes you still in his arms, all ears.

“Yeah?”

He gathers you to him, your back to his front, and the warmth of his bare skin against yours in the water with his arms around you is a distracting thing.

You wait, but he’s not forthcoming.

“I’m listening?” you prompt impatiently.

“I’m thinking.”

“Think faster.”

He laughs in the bend of your neck, though there is an edge to it. He grazes your cheek with his teeth, but he doesn’t bite down. This man has an oral fixation worse than a puppy dog. You’re never sure if he wants to kiss you, or eat you.

“I’m no good at this,” he finally admits.

Well that’s the understatement of the century.

“You know, the more you think about what you want to say, the more time you have to convince yourself of a lie?”

The sound he makes behind you is more growl than sigh. “Fine. I’m fucking crazy about you, alright? And the thought of being without you feels like feeding my heart through a woodchipper.”

Hearing this makes you go dead still in his arms. It was not the thing you expected to hear from this man, ever. Suddenly you feel hot all over; there’s a ringing in your ears, your heart is in your throat. You remember what Bradford said about Tex. Psychopathic narcissist. Which means, from a text-book standpoint, that he will say anything he has to, to manipulate the people around him to his liking.

But goddamn, if it didn’t sound like he meant it just now, when he said he cares about you.

Does he mean it? Can you trust a damn word that comes out of this man’s mouth?

Do you want him to mean it?

You don’t fucking know. And you’d better say something back fast, or you’re going to be in a world of fucking trouble.

“I am…quite fond of you as well, for some reason.”

This makes him snarl, pinching your side that didn’t take a bullet. “Ow! Ok, ok!”

“What was that? Last I checked, people don’t jump in front of a bullet for someone they’re just fond of.”

“Fine. In a split-second decision…the thought of the world without you in it seemed intolerable to me.”

This, however, does not appease him.

“You just can’t say it, can you?”

“Why should I? You’ll punish me either way. I lose no matter what, in this game.”

Tex flings his arm in a wide gesture, sending crystalline drops of water flying in an arc towards the house. “You call this losing?” he demands hotly, and now you sense you’ve succeeded in truly making him angry. “Holed up in a mansion in Mexico with two men who love you more than life itself? We were ready to die for you, when Bradford took you! Don’t that mean anything at all?”

You’re so mad that the last part of that statement hardly registers with you. “Holed up? I am your prisoner. John says he loves me but he’s ready to let me go. You say you love me but you won’t give me the freedom to live. Your dicks are very nice but I need something more than sitting around the house waiting for the two of you to pounce on me!”

“What do you need?” The question is so calm in comparison to you and Tex’s yelling that the both of you fall silent. John has joined you, standing like a tall shadow at the edge of the pool, the yellow lights at his back illuminating him like a fiery halo. In that moment for all the world he resembles something that just materialized from the fires of hell.

“Freedom,” you answer before you have time to think about it, or before Tex can stop you. “I don’t like being kept in a cage.”

John is still as a statue, only his hair stirring in the salty breeze coming off the sea.

“And the two of us?”

Tex’s grip around your waist tightens, vibrating with tension, as though he’s scared of what you’ll say. He doesn’t shut you up though, silent for what may be the first time in his life, waiting for your answer.

“We can work something out.”

In the depths of the shadows, you almost miss the slight curl of John’s lips at the corners. “Well, that’s nice to hear.” You can’t tell if he means it—or if he’s just amused by you.

You watch as he strips out of his clothes to join you in the pool, and you know…nothing has really been settled, and you only sort of feel better about your situation. Talk is easy. What they actually decide to do with you? Remains to be seen.

Yet when John cups your face in his big hands, kissing you so sweetly you start to tremble—in Tex’s arms, his hot mouth upon your neck, his long fingers gliding down your belly to dip between your legs—maybe it’s all a problem that can wait until tomorrow. Or next week.

Or next month.

You do kind of like it here, with them.

Sweetwolfcupcake:

There's a ringing in your ears as you blink. Looking at the phone screen. Apparently, you now have a new bank account, a new identity and a whole new life.

A life without them in it.

When John brought up the 'coversation' last month, you had an outburst.

But now, when he has made all the decisons on your behalf, made all the arrangements to ship you the fuck out of his life-- of their lives, you sit in silence.

The conversation began a few...minutes ago? You aren't entirely sure. Because you are busy trying to keep your breathing normal and not let your tears show.

If they can take decisions for you, discard you like nothing.

They do not deserve to know how easy it has been for them to shatter you.

"One of my friends will drop you to the airport. From there, contact this man, he'll lead you through the security."

John speaks as if he is dealing with any other person as he slides a paper with a name and number on it, even a picture. He sounds strange to you now.

Indifferent.

Stoic

Unreadable

And of course, Tex makes no appearance. You have not seen him the whole day. You should have seen the signs. But you naively thought he was running some errands.

What a dumb litttle woman you have been.

Stupid.

"Finally got bored of me?" You don't know if its your voice, or your eyes but something vulnerable and readable flashes in his eyes.

"I am doing what is right for you." He has the guts to look and sound sincere.

You fist your fingers and let out a slow, quivering breath, trying to keep your voice stable through this.

You realise that you are in love with them.

You are so in love with them that even breathing hurt, looking atnthe screen showing the promised 2.5 million made you feel like a protstitute.

So you really were their 'expensive' whore.

Tex's words ring in your head.

"And when did you decide what's right for me?"

Your voice does not come out as strong as you would have liked, but you want to pat your back for keeping it from cracking. For keeping the tears from filling your eyes, for keeping yourself from breaking down and for letting it show that your heart now is in pieces - tiny but sharp pieces - pieces that would go unnoticed - but make one bleed.

"Because I know that it is for the best." He asserts.

Your giggle is unexpected, but it somehow helps. "Oh, yeah?" you shake your head. "Now you decide what's best for me?"

"(Y/N)---"

"When can I go?"

Enough of this game.

You do not want to hear anything else, you do not even want to look at him, at them. If Tex isn't here yet.

Good.

You think spitefully. He should not show his fucking face!

Anger, restentment, betrayal, heartbreak and helplessness-- everything amlagamt into a dangerous fusion that oddly numbs you. But you know that this is the silence betfore the storm.

They do not even deserve to see your outburst. You will not give them the satisfaction of any reaction at all.

There is a charged silence from his end. And when you finally manage to glance up from the screen. You almost curse out loud.

You don't know what he is thinking. But it does not seem any good.

"You think---"

The ringing of the phone becomes your saviour. You think you actually felt the growl on your skin seconds ago. Why else would there be goosebumps on your skin. Why else would your heart be thumping?

When he picks the phone, he keeps his eyes on you, but you revert your gaze back on the phone screen. Oh, you now have a new phone as well. A parting gift from them. It feels more like a return gift.

'Hey party's over, you can go hom enow, and yes, thank you for being our little plaything. Here, a return gift. Happy Journey!'

You almost laugh at your own mental mimicry.

----

John's friend arrives within an hour. You have packed your bags mechanically, but you've meticulous about it. Nothing of you would remain with them, and no part of either of them shall go with you.

The shirt you've been wearing for so long that it now basiclaly smells like you?

It actually belongs to Tex, you remember, because he would always joke about you robbing his wardrobe every time he would see you in it, only to rob you out of your breath the next moment.

So, the shirt is left in the empty closet.

The two-in-one shampoo that saves time? It s John's, so it is left on the counter.

You shove down the sob itching to emerge and steele yourself. Tex is still nowhere to be found.

Bastard.

You load the bags at the back of the car. Only two bags. Funny how your life has been alterned permananently, you are to 'start afresh' and all you've got are two bags to begin with.

Oh, and a fat bank account.

The man and John speak in Sapnish, John does most of the talking for a change. You just want to get in the car and sit down.

But you stop, somehow. Soemthing tells you to turn around. Something in you is sure that Tex is here. You know it is most probbaly your silly heart, still whimpering like the stupid fucking thing it has been for so long. You want to finally listen to your mind. But as soon as you hold the handle to yank the door open, a painful tug at your heart makes you freeze.

Listen to your fucking brain for once!

See where your stupid heart has got you---

Fuck it!

You turn around, almost hoping to see Tex, so much the image of him standing a few feet away flashes before your eyes even before you turn around.

But there in no one behind.

The fiery hope fizzles into cold nothingness in you.

No one is standing there, hoping to see you, no one is there, rushign to stoip you, to stop John. To stop this.

There is no Tex.

You scoff lightly.

But you promise yourself that this is the last time you make a fool out of yourself by listening to your heart.

You should have seen this coming. But you were just a lonely, love-starved, pathetic little woman, weren't you?

Yanking the door open, you get inside the car. The man, John's friend, joins shortly after, taking the driver's seat.

He greets you in accecented English, and you reply politely, despite the effort that it takes to be civil with anybody at themoment. You feel John's eyes on you, but you refuse to look his way.

"Can we go now?"

You ask the man, barely keeping your voice from cracking. The man nods and starts the car, but only after approval from John. You bite your lips, keeping your tears at bay-- its not easy, but you have turned into an expert in bottling up emotions at this point of life.

John's ears are ringing, and his eyes are blurry as he watches the car taking a turn, completely disappearing from his sight. He blinks, relenting under the stubborness of his tears. One tiny drop finds an escape to his cheek. Silently, he turns around.

Tex is standing a few feet behind him. He has been there ever since you walked to the car with her bags.

He simply did not have it in him to face you. So whene you turned, he hid behind a wall.

John undertands Tex, and he knows that Tex would never forgive him for doing this.

But John likes to tell himself that is the better of the two when it comes to 'doing the right thing'. Angels do not belong with devils. They're cursed, doomed beings, destroying everything good that touches them, defiling that they touch.

You don't deserve that.

John tells himself for the nth time. Maybe, if he convinces himself, it would be easier to make Tex see his reason one day.

He watches as Tex silently walks back inside the villa, slamming the door shut behind him.

Tammykelly:

You would sit and stare at the walls of each airbnb for hours. Hours would turn into days, days - into weeks. You were losing count at that point, having learnt that a passing minute could turn into lingering eternity when every day was just a routine of waiting. So patiently waiting for the impossible, you weren’t sure you were breathing.

And you were hoping they’d come bursting right through each door, as it would crack open under sizzling fire and stand agape, akin to the gates of oblivion, forever sucking you into the whirlpool of tarnished hopes.

But they never came, always teasing you with a fog of a visit in your dreams, so flawlessly unattainable, even in the thicket valley of your own mind. You could practically feel their presence, looming somewhere behind you. And yet when you did turn your head, you’d always be greeted with only shadows, playing dirty tricks on you.

And what came to fill that befuddled void was an unstoppable force of burning tears and searing pain you carried in your chest every time you’d go on a new road trip across Europe.

Eucalyptus trees, turquoise sea, passing by the road, birds flying high, sometimes matching the speed of the car.

It wasn’t them leaving you feeling discarded that made you mad. It was the fact that it was the decision made for you. The taken away chance for you to fight for your own freedom and liberate yourself on your own terms.

Crowds of people laughing, dancing, cheering, a few couples kissing and hugging slipped by your sight.

And who would’ve thought that the freedom, once forced upon you, tasted like emptiness, and boredom turned out to be second to the suffocating loneliness. For now, instead of being caged in the glass house, you found yourself waking up every day to the ringing sound of the cage that was your own subconscious, slowly erasing parts of you.

The excitement of the first few days would always vaporise into the thin air, the towns, the mountains, the forests, the beaches - everything turning into a never ending lane in between the world you daydreamed about behind the world you were escaping. For freedom, with no one to share, became a burden just for you to carry.

This is probably what they wanted, you’d think every day, staring at yourself in the rear mirror of your rental car. For you to hate your own company and long for their so bad you wanted to curse your own existence.

They’d always play a game of push and pull with you, giving you everything that you wanted in a controlled amount - just enough for you to feel satisfied and less than enough that you keep coming back for more.

You drive the car down one of many hills of Italian Riviera, onto an empty secluded beach, then stepping into the nauseating midday sun accompanied by the loud crying of cicadas. The scorching sunlight and eucalyptus shade being the only things that kiss your skin, as you leave your sundress discarded in the backseat. Soft sand embraces your feet, slowly guiding you to the warm crystal clear blue water, letting you escape deeper and deeper in, until your bikini is fully wet and your chin touches the surface. Your eyes close, your breath in synch with your heartbeat fueled by the fleeting thoughts.

You exhale one last time, emptying your mind, and let the Mediterranean sea swallow you whole.

- a flashback -

You feel your head come above the surface, air filling your lungs, and then late noon sunlight graze your wet hair, as you walk out of the turquoise pool, emerging slowly, your eyes locked on the dark chocolate ones that devour each curve of your body, too distracted to notice you calculating your steps. You reach the pool bed and grab the towel, drying yourself, the sunlight shining over you in the most flattering way, making the man beside you hardly resist pulling you onto his lap. You feel his arms find their way around you in a firm embrace, and in a swift motion, the towel is discarded somewhere on the floor, droplets from your bikini are now falling down onto his skin.

“Hey”, you say softly, making yourself comfortable, at the price of his discomfort.

“You’re a fuckin’ goddess, you know that?” - Tex’s lips fall on your chest and trace a line up to your jawline.

“Never noticed, no”, you tease, your fingers on either side of his face, making him look up at you. A little naughty butterfly sets an array of flowers blooming in the bubble inside your heart, as you watch him study you with the eyes full of a promise to devour you right then and there, meticulously edging you on, before the other hawk comes for his piece of the prey.

Having nowhere to run means you’ve got nothing to lose.

You kiss him deeply, feeling his arms pull you flush against his chest, before you pull away right when the scales are about to tip not in your favor.

Your gaze penetrates his dark irises, igniting more fiery canons he throws your way in a form of his fingers digging deeper into your hips and waist.

Out of the two, Tex is more impulsive. And impulsivity means a behavioural pattern. And where’s a pattern, there’s a loophole. And where’s a loophole, there’s a way out.

Your ears catch his voice before your brain registers it.

“What?”, - Tex chuckles, making your resurfacing back to him speed up its pace.

“Nothing”, - you whisper, your fingers touching his cheekbones.

A small smirk turns into a wolfish grin, as he continues: “It’s never nothing with you. You told me once, we are nothing more or less than what we choose to reveal. So tell me, what’re you hidin’, my rattlesnake?”

Him leisurely drawing absentminded circles on your hips makes your chest rise and fall a bit deeper, as if setting off in-built alarms. You lock your jaw and let go.

“Sometimes my mind still wonders back to that kidnapping day”, the circles stop, “as I remember watching you and John obliterate the enemies, I kept thinking how graceful you two looked, as if almost entranced in a dance, deadly one at that”, his jaw plays under your fingers, “as time passed, it made me wonder, what more can you do for me?”

You notice a flash of darkness sparkle through his gaze, as if a shadow of a thick lone storm cloud approaching, but never leaving, with lightning brewing deep within.

Tex growls: “Oh, you’re so spoiled,”your cheeks flush a deeper tone, “we’re ready to kill anyone for you, is it not enough?”

You can’t keep your eyes off his, so you reply: “Although I do appreciate the thought, it’s not”, his eyebrow twitches, “you know, it’s easy to break, to kill and to bring destruction to the doorstep of anyone who dares to encounter you. But you know what’s hard?”, you let a pause escape into the abyss, “sacrificing and living”.

His head tilts, “we’re both willing to sacrifice our lives for you”. You pull away.

“I know, you do, but that’s not what I mean”, you tell him, “getting killed in the name of love is easy. But giving up what you love is not”. The hairs at the back of your neck stand up, for your heartbeat quickens at the look, emanating from his narrowed eyes.

“What are you talking about?”, he asks lowly.

A shallow breath escapes your lips when you feel tears pool in your eyes, before you can speak again: “You keep dancing with the death because you were born to be its angels. You love hunting, because you were born to be hunting dogs”, you let yourself run your fingers through his raven locks, feeling your chest tighten, “but you know better than anyone that death always catches up to you, you can’t outrun it”, your eyes wash over his face, “hounds get shot down too”.

You feel a vibration of his laughter echo through you, as Tex’s voice softens: “Well, that’s one way to call us old”.

You smile bitterly, feeling a single tear roll down your cheek. “Oh, you don’t think your employers just gonna pat you on the back and thank you for your service, do you?” Tex’s fingers wipe your cheek gently, butterflies in your belly forming a growing gurgling sensation of an upcoming avalanche, “the difference between a dog and a man is that dogs can’t talk, they act on instinct”, he watches your eyes search his, “either way, both of you will always remain a liability. There’s no grace in dying and no dignity in fighting a losing game”.

Suddenly, you hear another deep voice quietly respond, sending shivers down your spine, as its owner steps into the light, away from the shadowy greenery.

“So, what are you saying?”, you hear another pool bed creek, as John sits down.

“Devils are forever bound to Hell”, you feel an instinctive urge to wiggle out of Tex’s grip and let your feet touch the ground, “so don’t fucking drag me into it. Make your choice”, you tell them, both men now looking up at you, their laser sharp pitch black eyes staring right through you, goosebumps arising on every inch of your body.

“You know it’s not that simple”, Tex says lowly, earning a glare from John, which he shrugs off. You raise an eyebrow.

“Is this your final answer, Tex?”

He doesn’t reply.

You don’t take your eyes off Tex, while you hear John’s voice pierce through you: “We’ll always choose you”, making you slightly step away.

“Doesn’t seem that way”, you reply in a tone that matches his and turn around, speed walking back to the mansion.

You immediately feel the AC blasting, while you pace your breathing, as you step inside and walk into the kitchen, pouring yourself a glass of water with shaky hands. You glance into the window, watching the boys’ backs, as they lean closer to one another, whispering secrets not meant for your ears. Secrets that the tree shades will evaporate and never reveal.

You feel your hand clasp the glass harder, your vision focusing on the blurry reflection of you, tears making your silhouette on the window glass even fainter, as water slips past your lips and down your throat.

- the present -

As you look away from your reflection in the bar window, lazily skipping over LA street view, you put the glass down, the burning sensation in your mouth tingling pleasantly.

So much for fighting to be a puppet master when in the end it’s always been their game, for they were the ones who invented it. Haunting you. Taunting you. Tainting you. Akin to the glass in front of you, stained with your fingerprints and lipgloss.

Fuck, your breath fogs the glass.

You hear the bar doorbell ringing, letting the late night air in, and, after a few seconds, a bar stool a few sits over scraping, as the person sits down. You look up from the glass and into the mirror behind the illuminated shelves that hold liquor.

You suddenly feel like your stomach is flipping somersaults, as if air was knocked out of your lungs. For when you watch the stranger’s reflection, you can’t help but notice the singularity of similarities, wondering whether you’re seeing double.

How many Jesus-looking handsome devils are there?

You forget that it’s not polite to stare and he pretends not to pay attention to it. After a few seconds you inhale again, as if starved for oxygen, your heartbeat overpowering the loud music in your ears.

You fail to see a scrawny middle-aged guy sitting down next to you, missing his chatting up and lewd looks, as he’s checking you out. Finally, your eyes lock with your mirrored ones, your jawline hardens, as you try to move away from the noisy stranger. As you take a sip of your drink, he tries to snatch your hand, which makes you jolt and snap your hand back, throwing him a deadly glare. Instead of taking the hint, he grabs the back of your stool and spins your seat, so you’re facing him.

“Fuck off”, you hiss at him.

“You’re so rude”, - the guy moves closer and you - further from him, your skin crawling with unpleasant thoughts, “someone’s gotta teach you manners”, placing a hand on your bare lower thigh, above your knee. You exhale with a smirk on your lips, before grabbing his palm, curling your fingers and digging your nails into the centre of the thinnest part so hard that bloody creases appear, making him yelp. Fingers of your other hand wrap around the thumb of the hand you’re clawing in, and you’re not shy to painfully bend it in such a way that if you put more force to it, it’d break.

“Remind me again, what was it about the manners?”, you whisper, dangerously low, the guy’s cries drowning in the music. His other hand claws at your arm, as he calls you names. You yank his hand hard, as he does the same in his direction, which leaves deep scratch marks, then grasping his collar, your wide crazed eyes staring into his drunk red ones.

“Don’t try me”, you growl, “I will bite”.

“You crazy fucking bitch”, the guy grabs you with one hand, his glossy eyes filled with rage, his hot breath fanning over your face. As his other hand moves to slap you, you turn to the side briefly, noticing dark obsidian eyes staring right at you, when the stranger’s hand wraps around the guy’s wrist.

“Don’t be rude to the lady”, he says to the drunkard, as you let go of the guy. You lean back, watching the stranger’s eyes glow, akin to jet-black nothingness of the dark matter in space.

“Who the fuck are you?” the guy asks the stranger, who turns his attention to you:

“Is he bothering you, angel?”

You nod, your gaze never leaving his, making you feel an almost familiar sense of security, as you fall deeper into the bottomless fiery pits of his eyes. Before the guy can say a word, the handsome stranger is forcibly throwing him onto the ground, then casually asking the bartender to call the security, ignoring the guy’s threats to call the cops. You watch the stranger squat in front of the drunk guy and tell him to stay quiet, which he doesn’t listen to, making the first one roll his eyes.

You hear a sound of his fist colliding with the guys head, knocking him out. The stranger’s black eyes find yours, pulling you into the intricate labyrinth that is his curious gaze.

“Happens all the time”, he explains, his presence close enough to make you feel the heat of his body, but respectfully away that you don’t feel like he’s intruding your personal space. All thoughts completely leave your mind, as you don’t think you have it in you to divert your gaze, especially when the security drags the drunkard out onto the street.

You feel blood flow to your cheeks when the man’s eyes study you with the same intensity you once knew, making your stomach turn and throat dry up, as you absentmindedly reach for your drink. You force yourself to look away, blinking the fog of memories clouding your consciousness, as if a waterfall washes away the imprints it once knew. You let the pretty devil read your body language, not paying attention to him sitting down next to you, as you look through the window, into the depths of the night, for a split second thinking, indeed, you’re seeing double.

“You look like you’ve seen a ghost”, the man’s voice reaches you, once again the illuminating black hole of his irises not letting go of you, as if the sound and space around you are nonexistent anymore.

“Maybe I did”, you reply, pleasant tingles all over your body mixing with barely noticeable shivers, coating your flesh, your mind fully in control of your thoughts and actions, despite several cocktails.

You break the thick silence between you: “Do you, like, have a twin or something?”

“No, why’d you ask?”, - he responds, his gaze slowly increasing the heat of your body.

“Sorry, you just remind me of someone”, you apologise, hiding the truth behind the sip of your drink.

“Are you running away or looking for them?”, - the stranger asks.

“I dunno. Maybe a little bit of both”, your lashes flutter.

You feel him lean closer, the speed of your heartbeat rising.

“What’d you do if you saw a ghost?”, he whispers, your eyes lock on his again.

You bite your lip, thinking for a second, and tell him: “Well, it’d depend on where I see them. If I saw them in my apartment, I’d ask why the fuck they’re here rent free. If I saw them in a Church, I’d probably meet Jesus right then and there. If I saw them in an alley, I’d probably punch them so hard I’ll send them back to where they came from”.

Your eyes find his playful smile so enjoyable for some reason, when he teases: “You’ve got spirit”.

You mirror his expression: “No, just a whole lotta anger”.

You both let a pause vapour into the air and then he speaks again.

“So, which one is it?”, he asks, searching your eyes.

“Well, I’m here and they’re there. End of the story”, you let out before another beat passes by, as your mind and heart fail to create any excuse not to keep up with him.

He tilts his head, his short messy hair falling all over his forehead. “So, what brings you to the city of Angels? Business or pleasure?”

“Haven’t decided yet, maybe both”, you say, watching a wolf-like grin appear on his lips, a smirk you know all too well, which makes your heart sting just a tiny pinch.

“Looks like you need someone to do a whole lotta deciding for you”, - his eyes glimmer with a shade of darkness you can tell brings no good but a cheeky pretext for more.

“Excuse you, you don’t think you have anything you can offer me, do you?”, you match his smile with one of your own.

“Depends on what you’re looking for”, the man replies, watching you feign curiosity.

“Depends on what you have to offer”, you raise an eyebrow.

“So you do want something from me”.

“Huh, maybe the question is what don’t I want”.

You feel the heat of his body on yours even stronger when he moves closer.

“Maybe the question is what can you offer me?”, he asks, earning a glare from you. The counter meets with your arm, as you lean on it, your body now facing his.

“What are you looking for then? Business or pleasure?”, you throw one leg over the other.

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, angel. It could be something you can’t give me”, he leans back, looking down at you through his lashes.

A pause washes over you two.

“What, cat’s got your tongue?”

“No, I’m thinking”, you tell him.

“Think faster”, he urges.

Deja vu much?

You exhale, smirking: “Fuck off. You’re a prick”.

“You can’t expect to receive something without giving something in return. So, that makes you…a…what?”, he waves his hand absentmindedly.

“A fucking saint”, your voice sounds as a matter of factly.

“Quite the opposite, actually”.

“Yeah, you ever see a saint doing charity work?”

“I’ll let you know when I see one”

He’s so devilishly handsome it’s annoying.

Your jawline moves but you don’t dwell on the feeling of rising heat under your skin.

“So, what is it that you want”, you ask flatly.

“Stick around and find out”.

“Nah, I’ll have to check my calendar first”, you pretend to think, “hmm, I don’t think so”.

You catch a tiny sparkle of interest grow bigger in the eyes opposite yours, though he doesn’t move a muscle, buying into your pretence when you both can feel the underlying truth on your fingertips.

“Can I buy you a drink”, his low voice vibrates through a thin layer of deceptive indifference. You note how his eyes are the opposite of the ones that embody icy coldness laced with a warm hue that you’re used to. His irises are so warm with a glint of a cold breeze, blowing through them.

“No, but you can pay for mine. I don’t drink much, especially with scruffy strangers”.

The man waves to a bartender who’d just come for his shift, you hear the voice of a man behind the counter: “Good evening, John”.

Oh, so help me God

“Put the lady’s drinks on my tab and get me a glass of Ardberg”, he turns to face you, “name’s John Constantine. You’re indebted to me now”.

“For a fucking drink?”

“Three, to be exact”

You laugh.

Guess you’re not escaping the devil tonight

“You’re such an asshole, John. So what is it that you do for a living”

“I hunt”

Fucking Hell

“And then I help the souls leave this realm”, he continues.

Even better

“Like, with a bullet or a prayer?”, you draw circles on the glass ring.

“A little bit of both”

“That pays well?”

Constantine smirks: “One does what one can”.

“You like it?”

“Not at all”

“Why’d you do it then?”, you ask quietly.

“To atone for my sins”, your eyes can’t help but notice an almost sad glimpse appear in his irises and then switch off back to a playful hint. He watches you look at him with wide eyes.

“Can I tell you a secret?”

You nod, expectantly.

“I don’t do bullets these days”

“So, you’re like…Killer Preacher? Fiery Priest?”

“Haven’t thought of it like that. But yeah”, he replies, as your heartbeat almost makes you nauseous, the ephemeral sensation of being watched from a place you can’t see making your ears turn red, you almost don’t hear him finish his sentence, “I’m not a killer. On God”.

You force a giggle: “Sure”.

Constantine’s eyes loom over yours once more, taking in every micro expression of yours, when he suggests: “You’re sure you don’t want a drink?”

You look him right in the eyes when you take his drink from his hand and down the rest he hasn’t finished yet, then saying: “Yeah, thanks. It’s been nice knowing you, John Constantine”.

He quirks an eyebrow: “You drank my shit and you’re leaving?”

“Yeah. I’m done with killers”, your heels make contact with the floor and you begin to walk away.

“Be seeing you, angel”, Constantine throws your way, neither of you turning around, as you reply: “No, you won’t”.

You go outside and light a cigarette with a trembling hand, staring into the darkest part of the alleyway, fear slowly subsiding and blood pumping in your veins with a newfound purpose of hot radioactive anger.

There’s a Nietzche saying, “and if you gaze long into an abyss, the abyss also gazes into you”. For you can sense that two pairs of eyes are locked in on yours, shining in the darkness.

John notices a venomous smile playing on your lips and a hint of glowing in your eyes, not from the street lamp but rather the thoughts brewing in your mind, as he’s gripping the wheel tighter, the pain causing him to feel more grounded. Tex feels like they’re both staring at the reflection of them, him and John hiding in the shadows, you - right there, embraced by the light, forever favoured by the bold fortune. For “he who fights with monsters should look to it that he himself does not become a monster”. For you turned out to be a true angel in the city that is the land of the devils.

Just as you throw the cigarette out, your ears pick up the sound of the doorbell before you hear footsteps approaching you.

“Well, you sure took your sweet fucking time”, you tell Constantine, offering him a cigarette.

“Aw, don’t tell me you’ve been waiting for me”, he says before popping a piece of gum into his mouth, as you put the pack into your purse.

“No way in Hell, ew. It’s just taxis take for-fucking-ever here”

“Waiting for the ghost?” he sits down next to you on the bench.

“Yeah. I think I’m going ghost hunting tonight”.

“There’s more than one, I take it?”

You nod and continue: “And I also think I’m gonna take you up on that offer and let you humour me”.

His eyes glow with the same hue as yours: “You’ve figured what you can give me?”

You smirk: “Yeah. I got a debt to pay off, after all, third time‘s a charm, remember?”

“4, in your case”

“3 and a half”, your firm voice claims.

Constantine leans closer, grinning, his gaze devilishly capturing yours in a bargain your body could never deny.

“Thought you were done with killers”, he growls, his quiet voice making shivers roll down every inch of you.

“I guess not tonight, no”.

“Why a change of mind?”

“You look like you’ve been through Hell and back”, you let him get closer until your faces are just millimetres apart, not caring whether your other devils are watching or how they’re feeling anymore.

“Damn, I’ve been called worse but, wow, my God, angel”.

“I wonder what gives”, you tease, letting a Tex-like accent slip past.

“Mhhmm, what makes you say that?”, Constantine’s eyes urging you to lean back, as you recross your legs.

“Because I know what Hell feels like”.

“Well, I am most certain you did not wait for a sympathetic shoulder to cry on”, he purrs, placing his big warm hand on your knee.

“No, I did not”, you send a small smile his way, allowing his hand to travel up your bare thigh, “I don’t want ghosts following me anymore”.

“You don’t know what you’re talking about”, he says, his watchful eyes boring into yours, your heart flutters.

“Who are you to tell me what I do and don’t know”, the sound of your whisper hiss-like.

He smirks: “Okay, do pray tell”, his gaze never leaving your irises.

“I know what devils look like because maybe Hell is other people”.

You let distant sirens be the only sound filling the street.

‘So, you’re running away?”, Constantine breaks the spell, as you feel his skin on yours clearer than ever, ignoring the alarming temptation to stare into the darkness again and seek answers that’ll keep you up at night.

Instead, you tell him: “You keep calling me angel like it means something. I’m far from that. I’m no angel, and I think you’re no devil”.

“Are you sure, little dove? Appearances can be deceiving”.

“But the eyes never lie. And see, you can’t be really running away, when it wasn’t your decision to leave. So, I’ll take my chances”.

Abruptly, all of his warmth leaves your personal space, when he leans back and tilts his head: “You’ll have to pay if my head gets bitten off”

“Make sure to keep it on your fucking shoulders then”, you retort and pull him by the tie.

- 6 months later -

Constantine rolls over, though one of his arms still around you, both of you flushed with after sex glow, rocking messy hair. There’s a pack of unopened cigarettes on your nightstand, he reaches out over you and grabs a pack of gum, offering one to you first and throwing the next one into his mouth. You get up from the bed, Constantine’s eyes following your naked form. He rolls his eyes upon seeing you turn around and cutely blow him a kiss, before the bathroom door clicks shut and he starts to get dressed.

After a while, as the scent of coffee fills the apartment, he hears the sound of you walking across the room, the chair scrapping against the floor and cricking, as you sit down at the table with a towel wrapped around your hair, opening your UCLA mock exam book. He looks up at you from the two cups he’s just poured and sets one in front of you, his eyes glowing.

You glance up, thanking him.

“Last push?”, the corner of his mouth quirks up a little.

“Yeah”, - you set the cup back down, “God, I really did forget what it feels like to be this nervous a week before the exam”.

“You’ll do great, this is just an entrance exam for the undergraduate program, how hard can it be?” he teases, “plus you’ve already gone to college”.

“Yeah, you know I never graduated. Also shut up, genius, see if you can take it”, you mock him before burying your head in the book. Suddenly, you hear a phone buzzing on the table, looking over and seeing it’s Constantine’s, the screen lighting up with a call from “Angela”.

“Your girlfriend’s calling”, - you muse, sliding the phone to the man.

“She’s not my girlfriend”, he states, his eyes not leaving yours, as he ignores the buzz.

“You should take it”, you tilt your head up, as a shadow falls on your face, feeling Constantine’s hand somewhere behind you, “seems important”.

“She can wait”, you feel a whisper pass over right above your ear before he leans closer and his lips find yours, the scent of coffee and gum mixing on your tongues. You break the kiss after a while, lightly smacking his chest.

“I gotta study, John”, you pout, ignoring his wicked grin.

“I know, just giving you a little motivation”, Constantine downs his coffee and winks at you, before walking over to the sink to wash it.

“Ew”, you say, though your eyes follow his movements, as you bite your lip, smiling. As he turns around with a cheeky smirk on those gorgeous lips of his, you roll your eyes.

“Get me something to eat, will you?”, you ask.

“On it”, he laughs, “be right back”.

“Don’t be too long”, - you take a sip of the coffee, as he’s leaving the kitchen. Just as you start revising, you hear his voice calling you again.

“Hey”, you look up, “I’m proud of you, angel”, Constantine smiles at you.

“Get outta here, already”, you throw a cramped paper ball his way, your chest filling with butterflies, making you giggle, as you set your eyes back on the study paper.

You hear the doorbell ringing and Constantine telling you: “Don’t get up, I’ll get it”.

“Thanks, cutie”, you reply, dodging the said paper ball.

After a door click, strange silence greets the air, turning warm LA air icy cold.

“What the fuck”, you hear a voice that makes your blood freeze. “Who the fuck are you?” a deep voice repeats.

“I’m John. The owner of this house. And who the fuck are you?”, Constantine replies and you hurry to the door, your eyes taking in the scene of two men, standing almost chest to chest, about to come unleashed upon one another in a deadly dance of bulls.

Your eyes then lock on dark obsidian ones that spew fireballs.

“Y/n”, the man with long hair, holding a huge bouquet of your favourite flowers, exhales your name softly. Before he can utter another word, you are right up in his face, punching him in the nose, as hard as you can, making him stumble back with blood now dripping down his lips and chin.

“What the actual fuck?” the man exclaims, clearly he didn’t expect such a warm welcome.

Your eyes lock with Constantine’s.

“Nice one”, he high fives you, as you smile at him,“that’s one of the ghosts, I assume?”

“Number 2, actually”, you reply, calmly watching Tex look at you with confusion but his bloodied fingers wrapping around the bouquet, knuckles white, his eyes growing darker with each passing second.

Constantine’s eyes peel off yours and assess Tex.

“Can’t say it’s a pleasure to meet you, asshole”, he says and you almost feel a breeze pass you, as he launches forward.

A screen freeze frame:

Constantine’s fist raised, the other grabbing onto Tex, Tex’s hand with the bouquet about to collide with Constantine’s face.

The angle pans to you.

You look into the camera, amused, yet terrified.

Shit

Treedaddymcpuffpuff:

You take the blood speckled flowers and put them in a purple glass vase by the window where the filtered sunlight can illuminate and nourish the pretty stained petals. The silky roses and lilies - what a combo - invite you to run your fingertips across them and smell the heavy sweetness of the cluster.

After you take your time with the flowers, you go to Tex, sit beside him and dab at his swelling face with a cool washcloth. John watches this display with a barely contained scowl, hip against the counter, cigarette pressed tightly between his lips, bag of frozen peas pressed into his own blooming bruise - you had insisted he blunt the freeze with a rag so his skin didn’t get damaged.

“I’m sorry,” Tex says, and it makes you pause. Takes you aback.

“What?” It’s really the only thing you can manage. You don’t think you’ve ever heard him say he’s sorry and genuinely mean it. However, the enchantment is short lived when you realize that his repentance is probably a ploy to get you pliant and small for him again.

“I said I’m so-“

“I heard you, Tex, but come the fuck on. You actually think that shit is gonna work?”

Ah, there’s that punchable, handsome, toe curling half raise of his mouth. “It was worth a try.”

“You want another black eye?” You ask him.

“You know I’ll take anything you wanna give me, rattlesnake.”

“Die in a fire.” Despite harsh words, you’re still cleaning the caked blood off his face. You think that says way more about you than it ever could about him, but you’ve learned not to question yourself too much nowadays. If everyone else is resigned to being immoral, selfish douchebags, then why shouldn’t you be?

“I miss you.” This is his reply as he sports an almost infatuated expression on his face. He looks like a love sick puppy, and you kind of don’t mind it. Submissive suits him. Begging, strung up to the headboard, cock angry and purple, dribbling fat liquid pearls onto his belly, still having the audacity to be cheeky even while he's so desperate he’s humping air.

“You thinkin’ about me, huh, darlin?” He blows you a kiss and you scowl. Still, your face is hot, hands shaky, breath uneven. Curse this man for his ability to make your cunt throb traitorous in zero point five.

“Where’s John?” You deflect.

“I’m right here.”

You turn to Constantine. He’s got the full icy bag pressed to his face without a buffer again. Remedying his disobedience with a sigh, you snatch the veggies, slap the washrag back on, and then place them to his cheek gently. “You’re gonna get freezer burn.”

He holds you steady on tiptoes, broad hand pressed into your waist, leans down to kiss your top lip. “Who’s John?” He asks.

“A friend.”

Tex snorts. “You know, I’m startin to think ya like him better than me. Every time we have a homecoming, the first words outta your mouth are always ‘where’s John?’”.

His poor imitation of your voice, if you’re giving him credit, actually does make you giggle. “That’s cuz I do like him better than you, Tex.”

You can’t see the way he shoots Constantine a heavy stink eye. “Clearly. Now come’er, you missed a spot.”

Instead of glaring at him, you smile, grab a coke from the fridge and lean into the counter to sip on it. “It’s cute that you still think you’re the boss of me, Tex.”

His grin turns into a sneer. “What? You think just cuz you got a little bodyguard now, I can’t still slap that pretty buxom bottom all red and raw?” He flexes a bulky hand as testament to that, and you hate yourself for shrinking a little bit. Half out of fear, half because your insides give a violent boil of desire that you’re afraid both these men can feel despite distance.

Constantine, in true fashion, rolls his eyes. “Where did you find this guy? The bargain bin of Tractor Supply?”

“Close. A diner in Ohio.”

“Hey, I was the best lookin’ guy in that Diner, thank you.” Tex is back to his usual lazy grin, tipping an imaginary hat.

“You never change, do you?” You ask him, shaking your head.

“Momma didn’t raise a quitter,” he shrugs.

You can try to deny it all you want, but you did miss Tex. That dangling piece of your heart - held by only a tearing thread of muscle - reattached when you saw his beautiful face, leaving you warmer and sturdier and… fuck. Happier.

It’s not your fault. He should be outlawed for the combination k.o. of those handsome features, deep honey voice and annoying, endearing wit. His black hair has grown disheveled and wild, stubble thickening into a wiry mess that you want to tug at. Constantine is always clean shaven, and, god, you miss having constant rugburn between your thighs.

And those hands. Jesus, those big, beautiful, chunky hands, all bruised from beating Constantine into the ground. It wasn’t a fair fight. Although of similar height, Tex’s burly stature overpowered Constantine’s lithe frame. If it wasn’t for John knocking Tex back a couple feet with a burst of black flame, he’d look a lot worse right now. And it’s a good thing he did it sooner rather than later, because you were just about to attempt to pull Tex off of him.

However, that pulse of dark magic created a brand new set of problems. Because Tex now has a, to quote John Constantine, “worrying” symbol burned into his chest.

“The sixth seal of what?” You ask John as he digs through his messy desk of papers and odd collectibles. Occult bobbles and silver trinkets, brown stained parchment from careless papercuts, a few extra lighters. Finally, he rips a book from the bottom of a drawer.

“Saturn.” He flips through, reads faster than you can think, comes dead stop at a page with the identical marking on Tex’s chest. “Oh.”

“Oh?” You say, leaning over him and trying to read Latin. “What does oh mean, John? I’m worried here.”

“Pentacle of Saturn. Creates a magnet for demons and dark hearted creatures.”

“Meaning?”

“Howdy Doody is fucked.”

“I heard that!” Tex calls from the kitchen.

After a hushed discussion with John - well, it starts as a discussion. “So, take it off him.”

“I can’t. I need help.”

You fix him with a stubborn look, grab his t-shirt and drag him over. “So, get help.”

“What’s in it for me?”

You kiss him hard, lick your sharp tongue into his mouth and press him back into his office chair as he tugs your hips down into his lap.

You’re not nice about carding your fingers through his thick hair, and he gives the same treatment while he palms your thighs and ass. You tug his velvet mane back to reveal the long pillar of his pale throat and nibble at his pulse, making him groan and shift under you.

Your cheeks only burn a little bit while you smile down at him, hand still holding his head back. The other heel of your hand puts a little pressure on the thick bulge in his pants, and he bucks into you.

You chuckle. “Would you ever tell me no, John?”

His voice is sandpaper, thick with saliva, it induces a violent shiver from your head to your toes. “Only if you asked me to.”

You pat his flushed cheek, kiss his sensitive swollen bruise. It’s like this more often than not. Ever since that day in the alley where he pressed you into the cold damp concrete and fucked your eyes into the back of your head, you’ve been clinically diagnosed with ‘can’t keep your hands off eachother’ disease.

Whereas Tex and John would only give you what they thought you deserved - held you under a tight thumb and always made sure you were the one licking boots and begging for thread - Constantine can’t fucking resist you. He’s at your beck and call, completely enchanted despite being the magic user in the relationship.

Having a man like Constantine at your feet, by your side, it’s a heavy drug, and a damn miracle if you don’t end up fucking like feral beasts a few times a day.

A heavy, interrupting knock on the front door pulls you from his lips. You feel his baby hairs stand on end, skin prickle in goose flesh, watch his eyes curtain black. He’s a thrumming ball of dark energy, a black void meant for consumption. It’s his bodies malefic defense against black magic. It puts your heart in your ears.

“Fuck.” He picks you up, outer calm betrayed by a sickly nervous sweat beading on his skin, and sets your feet on the floor.

“Are we about to die, John?” You reach out to grip his forearm, and the look he gives you makes your blood cold.

“I need you to go out the back door.” He pops open his weapon cabinet and shoulders a big rifle out. “And I need you to get away from here. Fast.”

“John, I don’t-“

“Do it. Fuck.” He rethinks being demanding, grabs you with one hand and presses his forehead to yours. “Please, Angel, I need you safe.”

You’ve come a long way from that sniveling, scared girl kneeling in gravel with a 9 mm barrel pressed to your temple, but John is right: despite your fierce independence and growing sense of self worth, you have no tools to fight against whatever monsters are knocking at his door.

“What about Tex?”

He kisses your head. “Can he shoot a gun?”

“Yeah?”

John cocks the rifle. “Then he can hold his own.” Your attempt to follow Constantine’s request is very short lived. Turns out, demons are smarter than anyone gives them credit for. As soon as you make it over the threshold, you’re grabbed up. Four men, occult symbols written permanently into their flesh, heads shaved bare. They grip you by the throat and the wrists, but you still have your feet. You lash out, catch one in the groin, and as he stumbles back you have enough leverage to palm another’s nasal bone into his skull.

Then, you run. Gunshots echo behind you, and, of course you’re worried about your own skin, but what about Tex and John? What about them fighting off even more of these brutes? The desperate thought almost gets you to turn around.

Suddenly, your legs seize up, and you land face down on the pavement. It’s like you’ve been paralyzed, rolled over by tons of crushing weight. Your lungs tighten and breathing gets exponentially harder. You feel your bones creaking under the stress of an invisible steam roller. Gravity is a thousand times sharper down here.

A little kick to your thigh is child’s play compared to the boulder crushing your chest. “This is Constantine’s bitch?”

“Yeah, I know, underwhelming.”

You don’t exactly mind the insults - you’re being suffocated by a slow, unyielding force and that seems to be the more pressing issue.

“Kill her?” You didn’t hear the first part of the sentence because your eardrums were popping painfully.

“Yeah.”

And, actually, death would be preferable to suffering like this, feeling like you’ve been shoved into a 3 inch underwater steel drain pipe, like every breath you take is the last one your lungs can handle before they explode.

The weight lifts, air filters through your throat, your body spasms back to life. You can move again, breathe again; it’s painful and glorious. You turn around, and there is your dark angel. In the flesh. Hair nestled back behind his ears, collar tucked neatly on his shoulders despite the dark brown stains slashing through it.

You forget that you’re supposed to be mad at him, especially when he’s looming over a pile of bloody bodies - saving your life once again.

“John?” You breathe.

The stoic expression you fondly remember is contorted in agony. He holds his hand out for you, and you let him pull you to your feet.

It only takes you a stunned few moments to remember that he abandoned you after using you for months on end like a rag doll.

You rear back and slap him hard across the face.

You give yourself kudos - he does flinch a tiny bit. Then, he’s on you, cradling you to his chest, soothing hands rubbing over your head and back, big deep rumbles shaking his broad chest. You lash out with your hands, hitting and scratching, screaming at him to get the fuck off you and that you hate him and that you wish he were dead, but he is unfazed. A force to be reckoned with. Just like you remember him.

He cradles you calm, holds you like he’s never going to let you go again - you have no idea - and, in the same way that Tex repaired a piece of your broken heart, John’s embrace stitches the entire thing back together in some visceral, risky surgery that leaves you agonized and whole again.

Your tears stain his jacket.

#wicked johnson fic #john wick x reader #john wick x you #john wick #john wick x y/n #yandere john wick #tex johnson #tex johnson x you #tex johnson x reader #john constantine #constantine 2005 #constantine x reader #john constantine x reader #constantine x you #john constantine x you

[penfz]

A Face to the Name

Sukuna x FemReader (Modern AU)

Summary: After a long a** break of settling in, getting Aika settled in, finding a babysitter, and overall just avoiding going into work physically… Y/N now has to physically go into work Lol

A/N: I’m currently making a Master List of this series. There, I will attempt to put it in an actual timeline. No promises though.

This story part does take place after The Beginning though.

Warning: mild swearing, mention of choking (in a non physical sense)

Sukuna x FemReader Master List

Welp. Y/N hated this. You were perfectly fine working from home. You enjoyed not having to actually pick an appropriate outfit for work. Cause if you could go to work in your track-pants, you most certainly would. You also enjoyed just casually sitting in on meetings through video call, making yourself a sandwich as you did. Now you guarantee during those meetings, you would be expected to at least say something, and you most definitely would not be allowed to make a sandwich during it.

With one more sigh, you left the house and drove to work. But not before grabbing your lunch bag, which Yuuji and Aika had left a sweet note about enjoying your first day at work. Such darlings.

On the other side of the street, Sukuna was already grumbling in annoyance. The sections manager was finally making an appearance at work, and he wasn’t sure what to make of them. Mostly cause they actually never said sh*t during the meeting. They muted their microphone and blocked their camera during meetings, stating that it gets extremely loud and distracting in her house.

Now Sukuna knew for sure it was a female because she often sent emails to him regarding certain deadlines and projects. And she always signed it off with her name and position. Now Sukuna should have probably done the same back, since it’s appropriate to sign off your name and position when writing emails within a company. But yeah… he never did that Lol So she always called him “Mr.Sukuna” since his email had his first name in it. That low key made him laugh, only cause he knew it probably annoyed her. She was a stickler for “proper” and “appropriate” when it came to work, Sukuna couldn’t help himself in wanting to annoy her just a little.

The house was already empty, with Yuuji leaving early to drop off Aika to school. The same Aika who had insisted on her and Yuuji leaving a sweet note in his lunch… addressed to “Suki”. Brats.

-

“I hate this.” You mumbled under your breath. And you weren’t lying. Physically being at work was weird. You were a section manager for a large project firm. You had moved cities with Aika after being promoted to a higher position, but it required you to move to a different city. No complaint on your part though, you were moving back to the city you called home, where family was. Being away from them was hard enough.

You were getting a tour of the office, being introduced to coworkers, putting faces to the names that you’ve read through your computer screen from time. In fact, you were looking for a certain person, a Mr. Sukuna. The guy, you assumed it’s a male anyways, just did little things to irk your soul. Why couldn’t he just send the documents to you if he was already done? Why wait till the deadline to do so? Why couldn’t he just answer you in a timely manner? Especially when the indicator says that the guy read your message. And why couldn’t he just sign off his name properly in emails?! So you wouldn’t have to use his first name, which you got from his work email address!

“Oh, this is Mr. Itadori.” Your colleague introduced. And instantly, your head shot up. Someone with the same last name as your child’s babysitter? Possibly a coincidence in last names.

It most certainly was not a coincidence. The man before you looked exactly like Yuuji, his pink fluffy hair a dead give away to that. But the tattoos, the large body structure, the intimidating look he gave you, this was probably Yuuji’s older brother. And he was right, he is scary looking. But scary good… cause for some reason you couldn’t take your eyes off him. Took everything in you not to laugh as youu remembered Yuuji’s words.

As if Sukuna thoughts differed from your own. He took one look at you, and he already had one word to describe you. Cute. Your body language gave off a timid vibe. Understandable, he is a pretty big guy. But this was his new manager? On screen you gave a very demanding and confident presence, but that’s probably because you were behind a screen. That was what he liked. As much as he could describe you as cute, you weren’t necessarily his type. He liked confident and bold women, not to much the shy type. There was something about a woman who could take the lead with no hesitation, that made Sukuna melt.

“Hi, Mr. Itadori. Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N L/N.” You introduced with a deep bow. Sukuna could only smirk, definitely a timid one.

“Nice to meet you. Look forward to working with you.” Sukuna replied, he definitely was going to enjoy teasing you in the future.

-

Now this time, Sukuna was baffled. Trying to keep the impressed smile off his face. He was definitely wrong in his original thoughts of you just being “cute”, and he was definitely wrong on you not being his type. Cause you most definitely were.

There was a meeting today, with your boss wanting to formally introduce you to everyone, as well as a meeting about the current projects and its timelines. There was some overlaps in the projects, resulting in slight disorganization among workers, all of them trying to figure out which part should be done first. Which resulted in missed deadlines, all of which you felt could have been avoided.

When you were called upon to address the matter with your own thoughts, Sukuna couldn’t wait to see how your timid self would respond. But in your own head, you could only sigh as you feared you’ll be looked at as a tyrant in the workplace. Oh well.

“I disagree.” You spoke up when it was your turn to speak. All eyes were on you now, with your answer defying all previous agreements. “This will certainly lead to sloppy results. The deadline is soon approaching, let’s fix the timeline of things. Have the bigger details handled by senior staff, and smaller ones handled by the interns. They’ll have to learn eventually anyways how things work in an actual work setting.”

“Giving those kind of tasks to the interns is what could result in sloppy results.” Someone else argued.

“No. Those interns worked hard to be exactly where they are now.” You explained. “Give them the chance to prove themselves and to succeed. They’re in this position cause this where they went to be, so give them that chance.”

“That’s still risky.” Another fought.

“What’s risky is this that you actually think that your current plan is working, when it's clearly not.”

Welp, you just dropped a truth bomb there, and Sukuna couldn’t help but smirk. He almost barked out a laugh. Almost.

“I agree with Y/N.” Sukuna declared. “This debate is honestly a waste of time. We either continue with what we're doing, or we follow the princess' lead and listen to her."

"Sukuna." The boss had lightly reprimanded him with using such an inappropriate to describe you. He always feared Sukuna would catch an HR complaint with the way he spoke. But it's not like you complained.

Nope, you definitely didn't complain. Instead you slightly blushed at the sound of the nickname coming from such a deep voice such as Sukuna's. You had to remind yourself that you were at work and to relax.

-

Once the meeting had ended, in your favour actually, you had either been applauded for your decision to change things. Or you were looked down upon for it, especially cause you were technically new to the your current position. But you had not let any of the whispers around you, stop you. And Sukuna noticed that. Just like a predator eyeing it's prey, Sukuna was now eyeing you.

Extra:

"Hi Suku- nii, how was work?" Yuji asked, seeing his brother already in the kitchen cooking dinner.

"It was fine brat. Where are you coming from anyways?" Sukuna asked, no pleasantries what so ever. But that never bothered Yuji.

"Oh, Aika's house. I was helping her with her homework before her mom came home." Yuji explained. "Aika said she wants to come here for dinner tomorrow. Is that ok?"

"Yeah it's fine." Sukuna answered back, not really paying much attention to things as he did the task at hand. No, his thoughts were still on you. The way you dominated your colleagues, the way you spoke to those higher then you with no remorse in your comments. That kind of personality had Sukuna in a choke hold, and his thoughts were strictly on you.

"Suku-nii."

"What?"

"Did... something good happen today?"

"What the fcuk?" Sukuna questioned as he turned to face his younger brother. "What are you on brat?"

"Cause you're burning dinner." Yuji answered innocently. He didn't want to admit that his brother got absent minded whenever his thoughts were on a girl, or he had a good date.

"FCUKKK!"

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #sukuna x reader #sukuna x y/n #sukuna fluff #soft sukuna #modern sukuna #sukuna au #jjk au #jujutsu kaisen au #sukuna x y/n au #sukuna x femreader

[forggywrites]

Hello! I really enjoyed reading your Hobie x gn Reader head cannons I thought it was great. Is alright if I could request Hobie x gn Reader who has sh scars all over her arms but tries hiding it in the relationship but he eventually finds out. Sorry if this makes you feel some type of way. I have scars myself. Feel free to ignore and have a great day! ❤️ :)

Hobart "Hobie" Brown x GN reader with SH scars.

thanks so much for requesting! I love Hobie with all my heart, as someone who struggles with SH, it makes me really happy to think about how how he treats a partner who struggles.

Also requests are open and encouraged!

CW: talk of self Harm, not proofread or edited.

Hobart “Hobie” brown x GN reader with SH scars 

Throughout your relationship Hobie never questioned why you would never wear short sleeves, he just thought it was a fashion choice. You two had met in the fall months when things had already started to cool down, so it wasn’t odd for someone to be wearing long sleeves, but once it got closer to the hot summer months and you continued to wear the long sleeved shirts he started to get suspicious.

“Love it’s pretty hot out there, you sure ya wanna wear a jumper?” 

You would tell him it was fine, and that you always ran cold. You two didn’t live together and had never gotten undressed in front of each other so he had never seen most of your body before. He understood how you might feel insecure about the way you look and would always compliment you or hint at going to him if you needed to talk. 

Though when the weather forecast stated the next few days were gonna be the hottest days of the year, he knew he wasn’t gonna let you wear your normal attire.

You two had plans to go to an all day outdoor punk show, he knew it would be scorching out, so even he ditched his normal stuff for cargo shorts, a tank top, and his battle vest. (Along with sunscreen) When you arrived at his apartment in black jeans, a long sleeve shirt and a long sleeve denim jacket, he was pissed.

“You are not wearing that, it is way too hot for all that.” All you could do is stare at him, he had never been so snappy with you. “I’m not letting you get heat stroke, you can wear some of my clothes.” You didn’t move, scared about the thought of him seeing your bare arms for the first time.

He walked back into the room with some of his clothes, which would undoubtedly be big on you. As he hands you the clothes he stops.

“Babe is everything alright?” He asked while still holding the shorts and t-shirt.

You were on the verge of tears, scared you had disappointed or angered him somehow.

“You know if there’s anything you need to tell me, you can. I’m not gonna be mad if you don’t wanna go or somethin’”

The room was quiet, neither of you said a word.

“I… I have scars” you muttered, barely audible.

“What was that love? I’m sorry but I couldn’t hear ya.” He asked, stepping closer to you.

“I have scars.” You answered, now loud enough for him to understand.

…

“So what, I don’t care.”

…

Maybe that was the wrong thing to say.

“I mean I don’t care about how you look, you mean alot to me, some scars wouldn’t change that.” he stands there, unsure of what to do or say.

“Even if I did it to myself…?” you asked, tears now falling down your face freely.

All he could do for a moment was stand there, slightly shocked. He had gathered you had struggled with your mental health in the past, and he knew self harm was common. But the thought of you having struggled with it had never crossed his mind.

“Love, you know I care about you. I’m sorry that you didn’t feel comfortable telling me and if I forced you to tell me now.” he steps closer to you, bringing you into a hug. “I don’t see you any different, you’re still the same amazing person. I don’t wanna force you to change but I want you to understand that I'm concerned about you overheatin’. Your past doesn't define you, if anyone gives you shit for your scars i’ll teach em a lesson, got it?”

He pulls away and looks you in the eyes. “We can stay home if you like, there’ll always be other shows.” 

You had stayed silent, the proposal of not going only made you feel worse. The tears continued to stream down your face as you sobbed out an explanation on how you don’t want to ruin his fun.

“Love, you won’t be ruinin’ my fun, I care about your comfort more than anythin’.” as he says this you start to calm down.

“I still wanna go, but i’m not sure I can wear short sleeves, last time I did people kept staring.” Hobie didn’t know what to do, he wanted to make you happy and not ruin your fun. Suddenly he got an idea.

“I’ll be right back love, I think I've got something you could wear for now.” with that he rushed into his bedroom and started looking through the piles of clothes, looking for a specific item. Soon enough he found it, an old long sleeve he had bought stole that had cooling effects. He had gotten it to wear while working out and he knew it worked well.

“Here ya go love, this shirt has some sort a cooling tech, it works pretty well for me, so why don't you wear it for now until we get you some of your own and/or when you start feeling confident enough to go sleeveless, how’s that sound?” He has an adorable smile on his face, proud of his genius idea.

“I.. I think I'd like that.” you were finally done crying, glad he had come up with some sort of alternative.

“Aight, but you’ve at least gotta wear some shorts wit it, the shirt isn’t gonna help wit those trousers.” Hobie smiles, glad you two could come up with a solution.

“Alright, I think I can do that.” you say this while taking the shirt and previous pair of shorts to the bathroom of his apartment.

Soon enough you come out of the bathroom with the baggy long sleeve and shorts, holding the shorts up with your hands so as to not let them fall down.

“I think I need a belt or something.” was all you said as you walked out, seeing this Hobie burst out laughing, both from the oversized clothing and the cuteness of his partner in his clothes.

“All right, I'll get ya a belt.” he says, walking back to his room, still snickering.

Soon he walked back out with a belt that had holes all the way around so anyone could really wear it. After slipping the belt on and securing it, he helped you fill up your water bottle and apply sunscreen, because no matter the skin tone, you can always get sunburned.

The two of you had an amazing day at the show, you laughed, talked, met new people, and overall caused chaos.

Even through your hardest times, Hobie has done everything he can to support you.

#spider punk #hobie brown x reader #spiderpunk x reader #hobart brown #across the spider verse #hobie brown #spiderman #spiderverse #atsv hobie #spiderpunk #hobie spiderverse #hobie my beloved #hobart brown x reader #hobie x reader #atsv x reader #spider punk x reader #hobie brown x you #hobart brown x you #tw self harm #talk of self harm #talk of SH #SH #forggywrites #forggy

[majaloveschris]

Don't you ever get tired? Sometimes this whole thing is too much for me, and I think, why am I even here and care about this whole thing. I can't even imagine how you, who has a blog, must feel.

Oh, I do get tired of this a lot. Who doesn't at this point? 😅 I'm sure we've all been there.

I feel this way a lot lately. Especially in the past few months.

I still don't think it's real or anything like that, but sometimes I think to myself, Why am I here? Why do I spend time debunking something they are desperately trying to sell? The whole situation is just getting annoying and sad at this point. Back in the day, when something happened, we used to talk about it for days, and I feel like all of us were so shocked and disappointed. Now it's just ridiculous, and maybe they get people's attention for like 2 days, but I feel like most of our feelings have changed. I used to feel bad for him and sometimes even for her, but sometimes I feel like I don't even care about them anymore or if they are real or not. Especially when people have their own lives and we all have personal problems. When sh*t happens, my last thought is the nature of their relationship.

Sometimes people overreacting things doesn't help either. I think sometimes people make much bigger deals out of things that aren't that important and rile up others too. And some people think they are the only ones who can be right, which is tiring too.

It's a really interesting feeling I have. We don't know when this ends or how it ends. I've been doing this blog for almost 2 years now, and I'm just a bit tired. Nothing is the same anymore. Tumblr. The fandom. Chris. And it's not about the fact that he is "married" to someone; it's about the person he is "married" to. Looking at Chris 2024 and, for example, looking at Chris 2020 feels so weird, as if I'm seeing a whole different person.

I don't want to leave yet. I'm planning on staying, but I don't know for how long. I used to think I wanted to stay at least until the end of this shitshow, but I'm not so sure anymore.

I'm not trying to make myself a victim of being on Tumblr or act like I'm forced here to stay. Everything is my decision, and I like my blog, and I still have hope. I just told you all of this to let you know that you are not alone with this feeling ❤️

#majaloveschris #chris and alba pr #cevans-love

[tatasoom]

Never have I thought... Last Twilight turned out to be that good that I would like to write not prediction and not bl-related things, but about a thing we all know so damn well - family.

There're two types of comments that makes me sad:

about Day's mother not understanding Day and his love

about Day hating Night too much

I've already written about my parents getting divorced at the same age of mine as Day was. But what if I told you that I also have an older brother, stories of father cheating on mother and a mother always busy with work?..

Take a seat, dear readers, thank you for your attention, I'll try to make it easy to read and maybe put some pictures. I'll tell you what's real in this series and why my heart hurts for all of them!

First of all let me tell you why Day's father hasn't become a problem and later Day even talked to him nicely. I mean REALLY NICELY. The answer is lack of feelings in Day. You can't hate person you barely able to love. You can't be hurt enough by someone you barely remember.

That man cheated on their mother, that man didn't provide his own two children even with food, but all of this exists as a story once told to Day. He loves the idea of being kinda loved by his biological parent, because we all want to be wanted and needed, but the father we've seen in that last two episodes is a stranger we're all getting to know with Day.

Let's leave this man living his life full of regrets and talk about Day's mother. She is THE MOTHER. As we know she discovered being cheated when Day was three (or maybe earlier?), left her propably hometown and spent another two years dealing with a need to divorce. Night was around ten or even less that time. She was maybe thirty. No food, no money and only three of them as she mentioned when giving Mhok a house tour.

And Day's mother actually survived and even succeed. I like the actress chosen for this role. She's beautiful. She looks gorgeous every time we see her. She also must be smart and charismatic to be a famous chef. And still there're only three of them. After around fifteen years (or even more) this absolutely stunning woman is still a single mother of two.

This woman made a fortress that supposed to keep safe from any heartbreak. And this fortress has it's rules.

Have you heard anything about Night's girlfriends? He's already mature enough to have a girlfriend or even a wife. And do you understand now why I think that the fear in Day's eyes everytime Mhok flirts with him at home probably has very little with a sexual orientation?..

The whole family has TRUST ISSUES. Their mother is their leader of course.

So you say that the mother with her trust issues (and social status and financial stability) should understand that Mhok loves her son. Okay, Mhok for her:

Young man, something around the age of her older son. Spent a year in prison. Has no relatives. Is an employee in her house. Didn't talk to him much.

Now tell this woman she needs to be happy her younger blind son is dating Mhok. And wants to be with him. Live together, have his own family. After all these tough years when there're only three of them and the reason for that was her being cheated by someone she loved. Tell her to trust in love. Tell her she needs to trust Mhok.

You can tell this woman to get therapy and then talk to her son(s) and you will be absolutely right. However people usually don't act right when dealing with their strongest emotions and I can't imagine this woman being less than heartbroken in the next episode.

Also need to say that being a single mother of two sounds like a choice between spending time with children and spending time making money for these children. And it's true. I also blamed my mother for not being in my life when dealing with different sh*t.

I was being bullied for a year and all my mother did was making me to change school after the year ended. She never been there when I was coming home with eyes full of tears. Oh, and before that year I even had an accidental (not car accident) eye trauma. Yeah, really, I'm not lying. My eye never recovered fully and I spent a week with a vision similar to Day's one. But it's okay now. I was around twelve back then.

So what about Night? Don't you think Day hates him too much? It's not a big deal to use Night to get to Songkhla and just not speak to him there at all, right? Why being so dramatic?

I remember a couple years ago my older brother was asked by my mother to help me with some renovations in the apartment I live in. That night we argued that hard that I left my only home in the whole big city and refused to come back until he left it. It was around 5AM. I spent that night in a park.

So if you think Day can't be mad at Night after that car accident without more valid reason, you need to ask yourself what Day felt for Night before the accident. And the simplified answer is love.

It's only the closest ones that can hurt you the most.

It would be really nice to know more about Day and Night's childhood, teen years. I'm sure mother always told them they need to be together and help each other and be kind to each other. The boys for sure was annoyed, but they care of each other so damn much. The goldfish "Little Day" is still alive after all.

After such a betrayal from a man mother can only trust her sons she raised herself. She taught them to trust her, to trust each other. That's why Night used to be the main caregiver for Day. He was the only person the mother could trust as much as she trusts herself.

Meanwhile Day learned that the only way to have some mother's time is to be the better son. Maybe his mother can't be with him regularly, but she wil definitely come to see him playing, right? Day and Night managed to compete for mother's time and attention without even realizing it.

I actually tend to tell everyone that my mother loves my brother more, even though I try to be less troublesome and more mature. I even complained to my friends about the need to take care of my older brother like he's the younger one.

I feel something like grief looking at Day's family. Their relationships and their personalities are like an aftershock of something happened years ago. And maybe it's not even a divorce.

Time actually heals. For Day and Mhok and Day's mother's relationship this time will start the moment she will be told about them. For Day and Night's relationship this time will start the moment Day get a stable zero vision and start learning to live in a new reality. I also hope we won't get eye donation from father/brother/mother/Mhok or I won't trust screenwriters ever again.

The family needs to see each other. And for that they actually don't need eyes.

If you're reading this you're my hero!

Thank you so much for reading this brainrot. I questioned myself whether all of this needs to be written, but decided to spit my thoughts out. Sometimes these writings help to analyse not only the characters, but myself. That's good.

#last twilight the series #last twilight #sea tawinan #mark pakin #jimmy jitaraphol #gmmtv series