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lunamoonbby · 13 hours

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I'm just imagining an a/b/o dynamic where the entire 141, including you, are all Alphas. Except, after a few years of such close contact something starts to shift.

You start to become an Omega.

"Why is this happening to me?" You all but wail. It hurts to breathe, everything feels like it's on fire. Your stomach twists again, painful cramps shooting white hot lighting up your spine. "Why does it hurt so bad?"

Your pack is all around you, trying to soothe you in anyway they can but it's not working. Everything hurts, your teeth feel like they're going to crack from how tight you have them gritted. The wave of pain ebbs for a few gracious seconds before starting up all over again. You whine and sob and reach out for any of your team.

"Whats going on?" Price huffs, his cool hand cupping at your face. His touch is the barest relief even as he drags down one of your lower eyelids. He tuts in an intense concern. "Simon, have you seen this before?"

The larger male drops to one knee. He gives you a quick once over before dipping his head towards yours. He presses the front of his mask to the crown of your head. Through your labored panting you barely hear him take in a deep inhale of scent.

He coughs and stands back up too quickly. Judging by his flighty gaze, something is seriously wrong. Another tremor of pain wracks your body. You open mouth squeal. It's getting so much worse.

"Simon!" Soap growls, trying to bring his fellow alpha back from whatever memory he'd fallen into. "What's wrong wit' 'er?"

"She's turning into an Omega."

Everyone in the room turned their gazes towards Ghost, even you, despite your pain. You? An Omega? But you've always been and Alpha. It was part of the necessary requirements to be a part of the 141. You'd been genetically tested, hormonally tested, and aptitude tested. You were a full blooded Alpha coming from generations of Alphas.

"There's...ngh...no way." You hiccup out, tears blurring your vision.

"That doesn't make any sense. That can't happen." Gaz adds. He rubs at your back. His cool touch soothes even more of your pain into a dull throb, but it isn't enough.

"M' n' Alpha!" You cry out in anguish, the first of many tears finally dripping down your cheeks.

Something about Ghost's words hurt worse than any pain your body was making you go through. Try as you may to deny it, he was right. You could feel your body changing, altering, breaking and bending.

"Why is this happening to me?" You wail.

"There's too many of us." Ghost huffs, he glances around at your pack.

"Why does that matter?" Soap grumbles, scooping an arm around your center to pull you up into a sitting position. "We're a pack."

"That's just it." Ghost sighs tiredly.

"I've never heard of this being 'n issue." Price butts in. He grabs your face again and brushes the tears off your cheeks. "Task Forces are fully Alpha run. They 'ave been for years."

"If what Ghost is saying is right, it's biological, Captain." Gaz huffs, his thoughts visibly racing. "Too many Alphas, not enough Omegas. It means we'd go extinct."

"But why didn't she change earlier?" Johnny asks. You teeter in his hold but he keeps you upright. He lets you lean against his chest. He smells more comforting than usual.

"It's hormonal. She's been with us almost three years now, it takes time." Ghost says. Price nods in agreement.

"I'm an Alpha!" You sob, trying wrench yourself free from the multiple men around you. "I- I don't want to be bred. I don't want to be claimed! I'm an Alpha!"

"We're know you are, Love." Price breathes softly. He continued to wipe tears away from your face with a tenderness that only makes your despair swell further. "But this is happening, and we can't stop it."

"Take me to sick bay, please. They'll...they'll put me on blockers or something! Please, anything but this! I don't want to be an Omega."

The pack looks toward Ghost but he shakes his head.

"This is you first heat. The blockers will kill you."

You scream in pain, fear, and frustration. Another wave of excruciating pain washes over you. You wrench out of Soap's grip and fall against the floor. The tile is cool against your flushed skin.

As much as you hate him for it, Ghost is right.

This is your first heat.

Your back arches off the floor. Your toes curl and you squeal, shaking, gasping, panting hot breaths. You can feel yourself start to sweat. There's a sudden gush of wetness between your thighs. Embarrassment floods you. You try to curl into a ball but your body keeps being wracked with tremors.

"H-help me..." You cry out weakly, sobbing into the tile.

Your pack seems to finally get a whiff of your fluctuating scent. All around you, you watch as one by one each of their gazes grow more and more pointed. All of you know what must be done. After all, you're an Omega now.

...and there's no going back.

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lunamoonbby · 1 day

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𝘝𝘢𝘤𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 2 {𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘨𝘢𝘯 𝘗 𝘙𝘶𝘴𝘴 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳}

notes: it's my first somewhat-graphic smut. do i like it? no, but it's only because i feel awkward posting graphic wording- i'll get better <3 i take requests btw <3 and i hope you enjoy & thank you for all the love <3

triggers/tags: smut, relationship, face fucking, stressed!Keegan (i'm not sure what else to put :'))

𝗰𝗿𝗲𝗱𝗶𝘁𝘀 𝗳𝗼𝗿 𝗯𝗮𝗻𝗻𝗲𝗿𝘀: @cafekitsune & @saradika-graphics

You made the right decision. The best decision of your life. For the rest of the vacation, Keegan showered you with affection. Kisses, cuddles, even flowers. His arms were constantly wrapped around your waist, having you sit in his lap whether it be in public or at the renthouse. Every night, he ended up in your bed just to sleep in your arms. Every moment was savored.

The goodbyes were bittersweet even if everyone would eventually meet up because of work. Keegan kept his face buried in your neck until it was time to leave.

“I promise, I’ll come see you as soon as everything gets situated,” you whispered against his cheek.

Every passing second since the two of you parted ways was agony. Keegan was more than stressed. Training and keeping himself busy during work was an understatement. Though you two were deployed together, the relationship had to be kept under constant wraps. It meant keeping away from each other, acting like the usual pair you were.

Seeing you across from him during meetings, sneaking subtle glances only enhanced the desperation.

One night, it all came crashing down. Keegan had been in the training room, wrapped fists slamming into a punching bag. Sweat drizzled down his face, further pissing him off. He let out a grunt with a final punch and wiped his face aggressively.

This is bullshit. He huffed as he pulled out his phone and your message thread. Rereading the sweet messages from you made him take a deep breath as he sent the message he’d been fighting off for the last month.

Meet me in the locker room. Now.

You jumped, the notification bell unexpected so late at night. Your eyes lit up as you dropped your phone back onto your bed and darted out silently. Gentle footsteps were the only thing that echoed in the dim halls as you made your way to the training gym.

Relief washed over you as the gym revealed itself to be empty. A soft echo of a running shower led you right to him. The closer you got, the clearer you could make out his grunts and groans. Mild adrenaline pumped through your veins as you moved to the showers.

“Fuck,” his voice was low and strained, his head leaned back against the tiles. “Fuck, Y/N-”

“Keegan?” Your voice slithered into his ears, making his eyes narrow in on you.

The way he stalked through the steam made goosebumps prick your skin, “Baby, I can’t take–”

The drop took him by surprise. He looked down at you, furrowing his brows in confusion. You brushed your lips against his tip before he could say another word. A weakened breath escaped him as you enveloped him in the warmth of your mouth. His jaw clenched as he grasped a handful of your hair, relentlessly fucking into your throat.

Your eyes twitched and burned with tears as he hit your gag reflex. Nails dug into his thighs as your eyes fought to look up at him. His head rolled from being tilted back to look at you, mouth open as he panted.

“Goddamn, don’t look–” Keegan sucked in a sharp inhale, “Don’t look at me like that, baby.”

What he saw was your hallucinating eyes, wet lashes, and pretty lips hungrily sucking him in.

Your choked noises were muffled by his cock cutting off your oxygen. His movements quickly grew sloppy as he finished in your throat, shuddering as he climaxed. You trembled and fell forward with a shaky gasp for oxygen. Panting and still craving more, you looked up at him with tears rolling down your cheeks.

“Keegan–”

“Up.” His command was firm with no room for denial.

His hands worked quickly, removing your entire outfit from your body. He threw the articles of clothing away from the showers. Keegan lifted your figure into his arm, pressing hot kisses to your throat with mumbled apologies.

“Baby, fuck, I’m so sorry,” he whispered desperately against you, hands massaging your thighs.

“Kee–” Your words were cut by a sharp yelp as the tiles shocked your skin with ice.

“I promise,” Keegan groaned, his tip brushing your folds as his hips bucked, “I promise I’ll give you mindblowin’ head soon, baby. I fuckin’ promise.”

Your back arched instinctively against him, crying out at the sudden intrusion. His cock felt different now that it was buried deep inside you versus your poor throat. The stretch was unlike anything you’ve ever toyed around with.

“S-slow! Keegan, wait–” You begged desperately as his thrusts were brutalizing your cunt.

“T-tryin’,” he growled against your shoulder, sinking his teeth into the soft muscle of your shoulder.

At least he was honest. Though, he couldn’t help himself. The way you took him in, the velvety feeling of your walls, threatening to milk him of everything he had. Hips bucked ruthlessly, his soaked skin slapping against yours just enough to sting. Keegan’s lips traveled all along your neck and shoulders, leaving whatever mark he could. The only reason he didn’t shove his tongue down your throat was because he needed to hear you.

“Mine,” Keegan grunted against your jaw.

That made your toes curl. His claim. Pure and sinful claims. When you moaned, he fisted another handful of hair, making you look at him. Sweat mixed with the steam’s condensation on his skin. His lips were swollen and parted as he heaved.

“You understand, baby? All fuckin’ mine,” Keegan observed your fucked-out expression as he made sure to puncture you deep and calculated.

“Y-yes, sir.” Your whimpers slipped out as you kept your heavy eyes on him.

“Sir?” His lips curled into a grin. “Attagirl.”

The way his voice caressed your senses drove you mad. It was breaking you down slowly. The combination of him observing exactly how to fuck you like a god and his voice never letting up with the noises. That was becoming your favorite thing. How insanely vocal he was.

“Want you,” Keegan hissed, coming close to his second climax of the night, “forever, baby.”

“Promise?” You gasped out, feeling the familiar knot in your lower stomach.

“Promise,” his hand moved to cup your face, leaning closer to you. “Fuckin’ swear on my life. I’m yours, baby.”

That did it. Your eyes rolled back as your mouth fell open. Keegan’s eyes widened as he heard the most angelic sound slip past your lips. You moaning his name. Your legs locked around him, stomach tightening as you climaxed around his cock that still chased after his next high.

Keegan shuddered, hips bucking against you. The sensitivity levels on your clit were higher than a video game. [ha, get it?] You cried desperately, begging him to cum.

“Don’t pull out,” your plea made his brain go fuzzy.

In that moment, you could’ve made him do anything you damn well pleased.

“D-dangerous fuckin’ game–” Keegan tried to argue but the control slipped. Oops?

His arms wrapped around your waist tightly, an animalistic sound escaping him as he finished inside of you. Deep inside of you. His movements stopped the moment he bottomed out. His body jerked, trembling as his cock kissed your cervix.

A euphoric exhaustion washed over him. It was a dizzying feeling. Keegan refused to release you from his grip–let alone pull out.

Silence lingered between the two of you for a few moments. Eventually, you picked up your head to look at him. Keegan’s head dropped against the wall behind him gently to look at you.

Your hands were gentle as you caressed his face, wiping away sweat from his face. It shocked him for a moment. The gentle touch. It was quite unlike you in the past. Lately, you were this softhearted girl when you used to be a dog that growled and snapped at anyone who grew much too close.

“What’s wrong?” Your voice was soft, revealing how much his brutal pace affected you.

“You’ve gone…soft.” Keegan mumbled.

“Tch,” you blushed as you looked away. “Your fault.”

“Good,” he smirked. “At least you like me.”

Keegan caught your wrists as you went to try and smack his shoulders. You fussed at him, telling him he needed a shower. Keegan continued teasing you until the end of your shower together. He really was the best choice.

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lunamoonbby · 2 days

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I’d still smash gimme that zombie dick

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lunamoonbby · 2 days

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mutuals do this!!!!

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lunamoonbby · 2 days

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lunamoonbby · 2 days

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lunamoonbby · 2 days

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A Simple (Mis) Understanding Chapter Two: Numbness & Pain

Daisy

I always used to think it was an exaggeration of how pregnancy is a constant state of exhaustion. But it was a lot of work growing a tiny human. Add in the fact that I'm still working 40 + hours a week and, of course, something is always causing some sort of discomfort or pain.

Swollen feet, back pain, nausea; I can't even find any solace in sleep. The 32 week mark felt so close, yet still so far. Another eight or so weeks of this seems like a drop in the bucket compared to how far along I am, but still. That still another two months. So far away when you want to be done, but still too short compared to everything I still have yet to do.

Another two months to set up a crib and wash her new clothes. Another two months to figure out a name and make decisions that I always envisioned making with a partner. Another two months of struggling to do things like picking up shit off the floor or staying on my feet long enough to make a decent meal.

But right now, I wasn't worried about the two months ahead of me and all the things I still have to do. Right now, I was looking forward to a three day undisturbed weekend. The pain in my feet and sciatica was becoming so bad, I had taken Friday off to see a doctor and spend the rest of the weekend doing nothing, but sitting in my modest little house and watching mind rotting television. I might even indulge in some spicy reading. Heaven knows its been too long.

Or at least, it hasn't been since them. That day in the office, but... that really didn't count. I often wrestled with myself about it. That one time erased any feelings I had for any of them. But I felt a bit pathetic how it now tainted every good memory I had with them. Kyle bringing me something to snack on when he realized I hadn't gone to the mess hall. Price always having a cup of earl grey tea cooling for me first thing in the morning. Two packs of zero calorie sweetner and a bit of honey.

Sweet like you.

I couldn't stand the smell of it now. I blamed it on the hormones. A lot of things made me queasy, but something about the smell of the bergamot, made me sick in a completely different way. A feeling not of nausea, but of... fear. Like the same way a pentagram could summon demons, earl grey could summon mine. As if John Price was somehow there any time the scent lingered in the air.

But he wasn't. None of them were. Fuck. Why did my thoughts always go back to them at some point? No. This was going to be a relaxing weekend god dammit. Fuck them.

Almost angrily, I hit the garage key fob, shutting the door and engulfing me into darkness; a thin line of light leaking through the bottom of the garage door. When I had opened my door, I could at least see a path to my mudroom. I grabbed my purse, ready to go in, when I felt it.

Hundreds of needles. Stabbing and digging into my feet. Not just the soles, but the entire fucking foot the moment I bared any weight on them. I pulled off my flats and it was then I noticed how angry they looked. Red and swollen and all but screaming at me to sit my fat ass back down. I wiggled my toes, trying to get some blood flow. Fuck. Why didn't they hurt while I was driving?

I manage to get onto my feet, using the car door as support. Steading myself until I was ready to take the first step. By the time I had managed to all but crawl inside, ten minutes had passed since my initial arrival time. I got off at 5:00, but usually didn't log off until almost 6:00. Granted, I work from home, but I had run out of a few essentials. Essentials now that were in the boot of my car.

Fuck.

10 minutes won't hurt. Not like there is any thing frozen. Speaking of which, I forgot my ice cream... dammit. I really need to start keeping a list on the fridge. It's hard to remember when pregnancy brain (or stomach) takes over and I slam a container in a single sitting.

Grabbing a pillow from the couch, I went to the kitchen. Which considering the town house, or terraced housing I suppose now, was perfect for a single and expecting Omega it was cozy. Not like the base where going from the common area to the chow hall was about a three minute stroll.

I get down and lay on my back. Carefully maneuvering so my ass rests against the cabinets before I hook the back of my heels unto the counter top so I could rest my feet a bit. Not the most sanitary, but it wasn't like I had guests. It was just me. For now.

It took a few moments to adjust. My back ached against the hardwood, but I could already feel the relief from my feet and legs. It wasn't all that shocking that I was having a hard time with them. I had gained a considerable amount of weight during my pregnancy. When I had brought it up to the OBGYN about possibly cutting back on food, her suggestion was to simply not weigh myself at home. Now when I went in for a visit they made me turn around before taking my weight.

It was hard. I've always had a problem with how I looked and now adding pregnancy then taking away the option to diet and exercise didn't exactly help.

I pulled out my phone and was preparing to open my kindle app when I saw a tiny red bar in the top right corner of my phone. Of course. I get nice and settled and my phone is on 2 fucking percent. Whatever. I tell Alexa to set an a timer for fifteen minutes and take a little nap. Maybe meditate.

A knock on the door quickly brings any possibility of relaxation to a pause. Margaret next door was dropping off Winnie off early to go to her book club. Margaret was a widow and a recent empty nester. She had spent her life as a mother and a homemaker. When I got custody of Winnie two months ago, she had quickly stepped up in helping me with everything from child rearing to managing my pregnancy.

"Hello, Maggie!" I greeted from the floor. "Hello, Winnie Darling." Winnie had the same sand colored hair as me and bright green eyes. Her face was a shade of red and I could smell her from the entryway. Someone would need a bath today. Fantastic.

"Oh, Dear!" Maggie fussed, setting Winnie down on her feet before coming over to me. "Are you alright?" Winnie didn't bother stopping to hug me like she normally would before making a beeline toward the potty. She usually was a creature of habit, but nature calls I suppose.

"Feet are a bit swollen." I waved off. "Just resting them a bit."

"I don't have to go tonight." She set her bag down. A deep green corduroy shoulder bag that always had just what you needed in it. A wet wipe, hand sanitizer, a spare tissue and even a stain pen when a spill happened at the most inconvenient time. "I'll stay and-"

"Maggie." I said, trying my best to sound at firm, but it was hard with her. No one told Maggie 'no'. "It's alright. Just a bit of water retention. Nothing to fret over." And it wasn't. I could already feel the pain from earlier subside.

"Really, it's no bother." She argued, bending over to unstrap one of her shoes. "It's a bloody stupid book anyway. I just go for the gossip really."

"Maggie." I tried again. "Really." "It's getting close to the due date and I don't want to burn out on me just yet." It was a lie. Even with her greying hair, a deepened laugh line, Maggie didn't burn out. She was one of the few Omegas I had met in my life and she could run circles around any of them, myself included.

The sound of flushing sounded from the bathroom followed by the faucet. She huffed before slipping her shoe back on. "If you insist."

"I do." I encouraged. As much as I loved having Maggie's help, I hated feeling like a burden. She had raised her children. It was time for her to do things for herself. "Besides, we'll see you tomorrow after my appointment tomorrow." The bathroom door clicked open, revealing my little Win with the front of her smock covered in water. Fantastic.

"Hi, Mommy." Winnie finally greeted. Her freshly washed hands dripping water droplets onto the hardwood. "What are you doing?"

"My feet hurt so I'm just letting them rest." I explained, looking up at her. Winnie was rambunctious as most four-year-olds without a sense of self preservation are, but when I explained to her how careful she had to be now that I had her sister in my belly, her nature had become more gentle.

It worried me as much as it warmed my heart.

"Why don't you sit on the couch?" She asked. Her head tilting to the side, face etched as if she were trying to figure out my reasoning.

"Because it helps when you lift your feet up high in the sky, Winnie Pooh." Maggie explained before looking back at me. "Well if you're sure-"

"I am. Go." I urged. "We'll see you tomorrow. Lunch around noon?" Spending time with Maggie didn't make me feel like such a parasite when I knew she enjoyed the company. Her children had all moved away, only one staying in the UK. She wasn't so alone, but neither was I.

"Wouldn't miss it." She gave a soft smile. The laugh lines around her face deepening. "See you tomorrow, Dearies." She said, retreating back outside. The soft sound of the door clicking behind her.

Winnie had laid down beside me. Yep. Definitely going to need a bath tonight. "How was school today?" Winnie went to a pre-school that was luckily covered under my insurance. Perks of being an Omega. I'll take it where and when I can.

She talked about going to the playground and painting. All the usual bits. Who she played with and new things she learned. Then came the question. A question she had asked before in passing. A subject I changed with ease before. 'Have you brushed your teeth? How about another episode of Bluey? Put on your trainers (because we can't just say tennis shoes anymore) and we'll go for a walk to the park. I had skirted around the question with ease.

"Why don't you have a mate if you have a baby?" Winnie was too young to get the answers to a lot of life's difficult questions. Why did Tiffany not like us? Why didn't she get to see her daddy anymore? Why did that man look at you weird on the train, mommy? I wish she would just stay this little. That she never needed or want to know the harsh truths about me, us.

"I..." I wracked my brain for an answer and just came up short. I couldn't think of a way to sugarcoat it. We almost had a mate. Mates. We almost had a pack that would have walked you to school on the mornings my feet were too sore or I was already running late. They would have loved you. "It... it's complicated, Darling." Is what I chose instead. The other worrisome fact is that Winnie was too young to understand the concept about mates. I had never broached the subject which only means she probably heard it from some little shithead at school.

Wonderful.

"I'll explain it when you're older." I promise, closing my eyes and letting her snuggle into the crook of my arm. "Do you wanna rest your eyes with me?"

"Like when I'm five?" She asks putting one of her hands underneath my shirt onto my belly. It had become a thing she had started since I told her about the baby.

"Maybe six." I said, looking down at her. She gave a yawn before closing her eyes.

"I think five is better."

"Okay, Win." I said. "When you're five we'll talk about it." It was a promise I hoped she would forget. But I didn't want to negotiate with a four-year-old about something future me could deal with. I wanted just 15 minutes of this. I order Alexa to set a timer to make sure we haven't dozed too far off. Winnie still needed to shower and eat. I still needed to get the groceries out of the car. But I could spare another 15 minutes.

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lunamoonbby · 3 days

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Me after I pour my heart into a writing for it to get 3 likes

Please please please support your writers with reblogs it really helps us

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lunamoonbby · 3 days

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part 1 of regency era!ghost x reader

noodled from this. warnings: angst, forced/arranged marriage, emotional neglect, Simon being an absolute dick.

you weren't an idiot. you knew better than to expect love from an arranged marriage. if watching your parents' has taught you anything, it's to not have such high hopes for something so impossible to achieve.

but at the very least, you hoped for some level of cooperation. a hint of companionship. a friendship, perhaps.

your husband has been so cold from the very beginning. he met you the day of the wedding. you both said your vows, kissed and briefly danced for the court to witness. after that, there was a few moments of the consummation of the marriage and you were sent on your way after that was over with.

it was difficult to adjust to his indifference, despite what you've been told. you thought that you would be the exception to it, that you would be treated with a hint of warmth, considering that you were going to spend the rest of your life with him.

but there was no such warmth nor care spared for you. you even doubt it was spared for his mistress too, but at least she seemed to be enjoying herself in his bed, which did break your heart even more. the thought of his infidelity did hurt, but it was to be expected. he is a king, after all. kings to whatever they want. and whatever needs you can't meet, he's surely finding them elsewhere.

yet you still tried. you tried your best to be a good queen, a good wife. despite what you've been told about his first love, about the woman he lost to another man, you attempted to be something he can look forward to at the end of the day.

you wore dresses that were in his favourite colour. sprayed all sorts of perfumes to make sure you smelled nice for him. kept your hair prim and proper so he might notice. wore jewellery that you thought he might find pretty on your skin.

left flowers in his study to brighten his day. sometimes sunflowers, sometimes roses, sometimes daisies. it was trial and constant error, just hoping that he might tell you his favourite ones so you can stick to those, but he never did.

the only reason you stopped doing so was because one of the maids heard him muttering complaints about how the flowers clutter his desk. alright. no flowers then. man needs to work hard and he needs all the space he can get.

but you were determined to brighten his study. so you painted the sunset for him. painted the sunrise, painted the night sky, painted the moon and stars for him, but he never even took the time to even look at one of those paintings. the canvases were left in the corner of the room and thrown away, per his request.

you even put all your violin lessons to use in trying to impress him, but it was all in vain.

read all his favourite books to try and open a fruitful conversation about them, only for him to shut you down when he lashes out and tells you "you will never be her".

a moment of silence passes as the tears we'll in your eyes before he commands you to leave the room because he can "barely hear his own thoughts with all that chattering".

yes, that one did sting. your shoulders dropped and your cheerful expression broke ever so slightly before you hid it with neutrality. you bowed and walked away, as per his demand request.

that was what stopped you from trying. if he found your presence that much of a hinderance to his peace, then you guess there's no point in trying to be friends with him at all.

from there on, you spoke less. in his presence and the presence of others. being a burden to anyone never sat right with you and his words aggriviated that train of thought, so you just tried not to ramble, tried not to fidget too much under the gaze of the lords and ladies and even the servants. kept your thoughts to yourself and only applied what was necessary and what was required of you. kept a blank stare at the ceiling and numbed your mind while you both performed in your monthly mandatory marital duties, waiting for him to jerk his hips and fill your womb with his spend then you'd be on your way.

at some point, you'd even given up those visits under the guise of faint illnesses and you hadn't heard a single word about it from the king. you figured it was because he most likely relished your absence, or didn't notice it at all.

either way, you were tired.

exhausted of giving one hundred percent of yourself and getting less than half in return. you've had to endure it with your parents, with your siblings and now your husband. if you could not be first or even second or third choice in anyone's heart, then you'd rather not be a choice at all.

unbeknownst to you, the moment you pulled away was when he started to notice you.

unbeknownst to you, Simon had gotten so used to your presence outside of his bed chambers that he felt somewhat pinched by the lack of it.

his desk didn't have a new boquet of flowers sitting in their vase anymore. the air lacked a particular sweetness in your absence. something about your scent and the sound of your voice telling him about the little details of your paintings that just... soothed the voices in his head.

Simon didn't want to admit that he found you charming. it felt like he was betraying the woman he loved. the woman who sailed out of the country once she'd gotten married and wished him well in life.

but the fact of the matter is that you were a stark reminder that even a king has responsibilities. you were the reason why he couldn't even have his freedom. yet somehow, after many moons, his freedom started to take shape in the form of your smile.

so much so that he tried to seek it out. eight months after he'd yelled at you and took a knife to you heart.

only to be met with a startled expression and a tense posture one breakfast morning.

he remembers the painful silence of that day in the gardens. the brief glance you cast to your handmaiden as if to say "what the fuck is he doing here???" not to mention the little shrug from your handmaiden telling you that she has absolutely no idea and she's just as shocked as you are before setting your wide eyes on him, a half-chewed biscuit stuck between your delicate fingers. the pure terror in your eyes because this has never happened before and you're unprepared for such an unprecedented event.

this being him coming to see you in the morning. or ever. this being him sitting down with you for breakfast before the painstaking day begins.

he wasn't prepared for the way your fear and confusion twisted something in his chest. even more so when he realized how quiet you suddenly were around him. never speaking more than ten words. never looking directly at his eyes anymore. sitting so stiffly in your chair with your hands on your lap that he couldn't reach out to attempt to comfort you.

you were polite to him, however. he thinks that might be the worst part. if you'd been angry or upset, he might have felt more comfortable to offer apologies and promises of reparation, but he's not sure how to proceed when he's faced with a wall of quiet fear.

he's not deterred, though. he's done being an ass to you and he should start making amends.

[part 2] banners by @saradika

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do not like, comment, reblog or follow— in fact, do not interact with this blog if you're a minor or if you have no age in your bio. read the [ground rules]. you have no excuses if you get blocked.

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lunamoonbby · 9 days

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so i was thinkin'.

you becoming a pen-pal with prisioner!simon. he didn't get convicted of a violent crime or at least not a crime that involved violence against people who didn't deserve it. you find a flyer in town with a service to send letters to prisoners. you think why not, the poor person could use the communication from the outside. enters simon 'ghost' riley, when you receive a photo of him. you're in shock!

he is very intimidating.

but in his letters, he's simply so sweet to you. he even send you some of the writings he did about his time in the military. he even attempted to draw you a nice card for your birthday! you grow close to him over time so when he finally gets let out of prison, you're there to meet him at the gates.

you melt the first time you hug him, if you didn't you probably would've sobbed. you haven't even met this man, but yet you feel such an affection towards him. and oh boy, does he show his gratitude for being there during the lowest parts of his life.

"i'm gonna be a good man." he purrs when he's slamming into your pussy. the first pussy he's had in almost three years, "be a good man for my wife." his voice is heavy and strong. you can feel his cock in the back of your throat.

this is a hell of a lot better than sendin' letters, don't ya think?

i'm callin' it the 'jailhouse rock au'. thoughts?

xoxo, bunny <3

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lunamoonbby · 10 days

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Reblog if you are not a pedophile.

If everyone doesn’t reblog this, I’m unfollowing all of you.

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lunamoonbby · 10 days

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FORBIDDEN FRUIT

Chapter Eight. The Hymn of Nectar

Pairing: God!Simon ‘Ghost’ Riley x Female Reader

Prompt: A prophecy written long ago stated of a human that would become the God’s wife and live in his domain for the rest of eternity.

Words: 2.3 K

Warnings: None? As of now ;)

Previous Chapter Masterlist

It was nice to finally receive some freedom once Simon was back. While you weren’t left completely alone for longer than a couple hours, you could finally have some moments of solitude away from prying eyes.

You had slept well the last couple nights, likely from the promise of Simon personally checking on you every couple hours into your slumber. You’d sometimes feel the fluttering touch of his fingertips against your cheeks—never anything more than that fleeting touch before it disappeared behind your shut door.

You’d wake up to petals of daffodils upon your nightstand near your water basin. He’d put them there, that much was obvious when he stiffened lightly as you walked to the kitchens with the flower tucked beyond your ear.

It was quite humorous to reduce such a powerful God to a blushing boy.

Now, as you finished your morning routine, you’d decided to settle against an old Cyprus tree in the courtyard, just a few yards away from Simon and Keegan, who had started their morning sparring match.

Usually, you’d be irritated at the grunts and clang of iron while you attempted to read a book, but the day was just too perfect to stay cooped in the library.

A low hiss broke your concentration away from the thick journal you were reading. Adverting your eyes upwards, settling on the hunched form of Simon. Keegan stood above him, looking on with only a slight hint of worry behind his usually stoic expression.

Your betrothed was obviously straining too hard. You’d warned him earlier this week to take it easy, but it seemed Simon was a stubborn man. Even though his wounds now resembled fading red marks instead of open gashes, he was still sore. He’d spoke earlier of his wounds, how high-beings couldn’t be physically hurt for long, but evil seeped out of the scars and took long to heal. You’d gulped hesitantly at his words, but settled with knowing that you were safest here, under his protection.

“I say we are done for the day.” Keegan’s voice smoothed over like ice, a chilly reprimand to his ever stubborn boss.

Simon pursed his lips, but reluctantly agreed. His hand clasped around Keegan’s forearm as the shorter God pulled him up to his feet. Keegan whispered something low under his breath, and subtly Simon glanced to your sitting frame before his eyes soften reluctantly.

Before he made his way towards you, Keegan shoved a leather canteen into the God’s hand, before he disappeared with a wink and flutter of his wings.

You’d bookmarked your page as Simon approached you, a small limp in his gait.

“May I sit?” He asked. You nearly chortled at his request. He owned this entire kingdom, and you had just recently pledged yourself to him. Still, he asked to acquire your company.

“You may.” You airily spoke, watching his body slide down the smooth bark of the cypress. His shoulder grazed against your own as his feet kicked out in front of him. Dark eyes fluttered shut beyond his mask, illustrating his relaxing exhaustion.

Your eyes settled upon the canteen, a teasing quirk of a smile trailing amongst your lips. “Drinking this early?”

Simon popped one eye open, a soft grunt escaping his lips as he uncapped the canteen and held it out to you. You rose your eyebrows, but took it anyways. Your eye peered carefully down the neck, finding an odd glowing liquid the color of gold. Similar to the golden ichor that had bled from your betrothed’s wounds.

You mistakenly caught a whiff of the drink, eyes nearly bugging out of your head when such an overwhelmingly sweet scent flooded your nostrils. You resisted the urge to gag, already feeling the thick film of sugar coating your teeth without even taking a sip.

“What is that stuff?” You asked in disbelief as you passed it back to Simon with a wrinkled nose. His eyes twinkled with amusement, just as his hand reached up to lift his helm slightly.

“Nectar, is what it is.” His pink lips wrapped around the lid, just as he took a draggingly long swig. You found yourself flicking your tongue over your teeth, already feeling sorry for him gums and molars.

“Nectar?” You hummed in question, watching before your eyes as the God seemed to glow under the sunny rays. Instantly the knots in his muscles lessened but perhaps it was a trick of the light.

“The drink of the Gods. It has healing properties to a limit.” He offered, just before his eyes flickered observingly to the book you had perched upon your lap.

“That is a good one.” He voiced, gesturing to the leather bound spine folded in one of your hands. You perked, a slight dust of heat rising to your face. The text didn’t have an author, but it was heavily romantic and poetic. A strangled noise fell from your lips as you didn’t bother to hide your surprise.

“You’ve read it?”

Simon’s eyelashes fluttered in amusement, as if the whole situation was quite comical. “Read it to me?” He requested, a slight twinge upon his request had your eyes narrowing in suspicion. Regardless, your nimble fingers found the page you marked and flashed over the next text.

“I found myself trapped against my will. Her hands were the prison, a clasp holding my mind in her unnoticed will. I was disgusted, yet enthralled. I’d never seen such painful beauty. Such as a proud bird with broken wings, this feminine creature was caged in what they had called a Garden. Her eyes— stardrops. Her lips— the sweetest petals. I decided there, in the dark shadows that hid me, she would be mine.” You paused with a breath, a soft smile upon your lips as you began again.

“I would vow–” you started, but were surprised by the gentle voice that was so hushed you hardly heard.

“To adore her for Eternity. To take her as a bride, to make her a Queen.” Simon finished. You bit back your shock at his perfected recitation. His hand flickered to the soft flesh of your cheekbone, warm and calloused. “My mind has been clouded since I have written those pages, it’s as if I’m hearing it again.”

You choked a gasp, realizing then, that the handwritten golden text had belonged to Simon, and you were essentially reading his thoughts, his thoughts about you.

You sat yourself back against the bark of the tree, pushing the book away from your hands as if it had scorched you.

“Simon… I’m so sorry, I didn’t realize I was reading your personal thoughts. It was on the shelves in the library.” You stopped your rambling when an amused chuckle musically entered your ears.

“I don’t mind. I’ve made it clear just how much I adore you, darling.”

You opened your mouth to answer, but quickly you shut it again. You didn’t trust yourself to say anything, especially with your short-circuiting brain. Instead you settled on letting out a deep inhale, attempting to subdue your fluttering heart that was entirely Simon’s fault.

He took notice to your flustered body language, instead of ridiculing, he pushed himself off the trunk and stood tall. His large palm extended to you in invitation, it was near embarrassing how quickly your fingers danced across his skin as he heaved you gently off the ground.

The pale lilac of your summer dress fluttered slightly in the calming breeze. Kleo had once mentioned that the weather changed based on Hades’ behavior. It made your heart leap at the brightening of sun and soothing breeze, wondering if perhaps, you helped him cause it. The sundrops danced in his eyes as you looked to him questionably. Crow feet wrinkled, but he gave nothing away, you couldn’t help the soft smile that brushed across your lips as you observed.

Then he maneuvered around you, his form shadowing yours for a moment just so you could vaguely make out the extended muscles of his back and the elegant twist of his abdomen as he sidestepped. The whiff of rich smoke and sweetly scented musk invaded your nostrils, and it took a near Herculean effort not to draw into him like a fish on a hook.

He’d noticed, obviously he had. How could someone so perceptive not? Yet all he did was close his long and calloused fingers upon your wrist and palm tighter, steering you and leading anywhere he wanted. You were far too bewitched to care.

The lack of communication wasn’t uncomfortable. If anything you took more time to focus on the steady patter of his near silent footfalls, the croaking of bullfrogs, and the gentle breeze that brushed against your skin and the Cyprus.

Finally, your ears picked up on a smooth trickling.

While your eyes were settling on unfamiliar territory, Simon had come to an ease. His ever tense shoulders slackening and his body thawing from previous turmoil.

This ground was sacred to him, as personal as his very own skin. While the gardens were not technically forbidden, he was cautious on who entered the space. Only his trusted companions, such as Keegan and the Furies entered there. Here, however—with the soft babbling of a creek and whispering leaves of fig trees, was a secrecy he had not shared.

Until you.

“It’s beautiful…” you’d whispered, almost petrified to use your own voice.

His hand dropped your own, though the warmth of his palm still floated upon your skin. Instead, your head swiveled to follow his movement, just as he reached upon the tips of his toes. Shade settled across his helm, encasing him in more shadow– yet as he plucked the ripest fig he could find, you found him to never look so full of light.

“Simon’s Elysium. He often dreamt of this spot as a mortal. A place pleasant and secluded.” Hades spoke up, all while his fingers pulled upon the soft flesh of the fig, splitting it open and offering a half to you.

A different fruit than a pomegranate. With no promise of devotion or servitude. This fruit was offered as courtship. A way to say “here, take my love as sweet as this fruit.”

You took it from his hands as if it was a newborn, this fruit being so delicate and precise that you didn’t want to bite into it. Not only was it an extension of his love, but it was a part of Simon’s safe haven, and while you were invited, it simply felt wrong to trespass.

As if Hades could sense your inner turmoil, he spoke softly, “Simon still voices his thoughts, he wants you to eat it, to share his paradise that he never fully experienced.”

Sadness ripped at your lungs like scorching wildfire. How could you be so selfish? Simon had given everything to protect his family, and here you stand simply running away because you didn’t want to marry a clansman your mother had picked out.

He was a hero. Regardless of his cold appearance, Hades was selfless—You, you were selfish, selfish enough to eat the flesh of the fig and feel the gentle pressure of Simon’s calloused hands upon your flushed cheeks. The seedy ripeness was overpowering, coating your teeth and tongue and soul.

“Simon calls you beautiful in a mantra. Just as I-” amusement crossed over his features as his eyes rolled. “We—hope to hold your devotion without burden.”

His thumb swiped your lips, collecting the juices of the fruit stained to your flesh. You looked down for a moment, knowing desperately that this was what you wanted. What your beating organ needed.

“I am yours.” You muttered, buzzing from the intensity Simon always managed to carry. You swore you heard him purr as fingertips once more caressed your skin, angling your chin upwards so you looked to him doe eyed.

“May I kiss you?” He asked with such confidence you couldn’t help but nod, knowing words would not escape you. He reached upwards to push his helm off of his head to the soft grass below with a gentle clunk.

You were met with his features once again, all the godly details shining through to display just how effortlessly beautiful he was. A hand fluttered to your waist, so soft and gentle it made you feel like glass. He caressed you softly, keeping one hand enclosed while the other soothed. Fingernails fell heavenly against your scalp, palm wide to caress the whole side of your face. A thumb had your lips parted, just as you looked to him through your eyelashes.

He swayed closer, eyes so intense you felt your heart near palpating out of your chest. He leant over you, so tall he nearly encased you like a shield.

Then came a simple brush of his lips against yours, an experiment.

He was warm, yet cold at the same time. Hades was a wild flame that burned frostbite, it should have made you shiver. But—all you felt was scorching fire licking at your heartstrings.

His forearms circled your hips, keeping you locked to him as he kissed more surely, making you lose your breath as his tongue licked softly against your bottom lip. He tasted of sweetness, likely from the leftover Nectar he had drank before.

You decided then, it was the best thing you had ever felt and tasted. Down to your toes you felt the true passion put off from your souls.

He pulled away, leaving you with the biggest smile that spilt radiantly across your face. His own eyes danced with mirth and joy, the expression making him look younger than he was.

“I’ve waited long for this, my bride. Despite my many millennia that I have expirenced, little days will outshine this one.”

You couldn’t help the warm flush that fluttered across your cheeks at such elaborate words. It was the best day of your little years of life as well. With the day full of laughter and joy in Simon’s piece of Elysium— Eating figs, listening to the trickles of water, and soaking in the warmth of your God.

It was a shame the two of you missed the eyes that watched.

A/N: It’s been a while hasn’t it? This was a short chapter because I wanted this sucker out of my drafts. I’ve been holding onto it and chipping away since FEBRUARY!!! Anyways please enjoy and tell me what you think. Next chapter should be getting into the wedding!!

Tags: @soapyghost @queenqu33f @blueoorchid @lethalchiralium @eclipse-darling @galagcica @dead-noodles @agspgrwasb @toobessed @mooniesyubi @cookielovesbook-akie @vile-villain6661 @peachlcve @ghostslittlegf @erintaro @ghost-with-a-teacup @fante-di-denari @sollucifer @embers-of-alluring @icepancakes @queen-ilmaree @msecho19 @the-abyss-of-fandoms @angstyjellybean @multitargaryen @montenegroisr @lilacsourgirl @thisperspective @pasta-m1lk @badpvn @stupendoustyrantstranger @brainstormbby @lilpothoscuttings @lycheedr3ams

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lunamoonbby · 11 days

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Same bestie same

Is it too much to ask to get bent in half and railed back to factory settings by ghost?

Because I’m pretty sure that’d fix me right now 😮‍💨

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lunamoonbby · 14 days

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Til Death Ch.1

Alex Keller x F!Reader

Warnings: MDNI, Angst, some fluff eventually, maybe even some smut, who knows. Bad grammar/writing because I didn’t go to school past 8th grade (dead serious)

“Hi sweetheart” Alex’s mom’s south voice came through the phone.

“Hi mom” Alex cheerfully replied.

“How you been sweetheart” she asked.

“Been alright, just staying busy with work” alex knew better than to give his mom too much stressful information about his job. She’s one to worry.

“Don’t you think it’s time to find something new to do for a living? You’ve been at this for almost eight years” she asked once again, she’s been trying to push him to change careers for what feels like forever.

“I know” Alex tried to not sound annoyed because he knows it’ll start a fight. He knows she means well but she always brings it up every chance she can.

“How are you two gonna start a family if all you do is travel around doing God knows what” she said almost bitterly.

Alex sighed “I know mom”

“How is she” his mom asked. She loved hearing about Alex’s sweet girl. She was everything she hoped her son would find in a partner.

“She’s doing good, same as me. Busy with work” Alex smiled at the thought of you.

“Well I was gonna ask just to make sure, she is coming to your sister’s wedding with you. Right?” His mom was growing impatient having never met you. You were always out on mission, meetings, sleeping. Every phone call you seemed to be unaccounted for.

“I don’t know mom” Alex replied trying to stay calm and quiet so nobody else in the building heard him. Last thing Alex wanted was for someone to find out.

“Hold on your dad and sister just got here, I’m putting you on speaker” she said.

“Hey kiddo” his father yelled into the phone.

“Hi dad” Alex knew this was about to go terribly.

“Hey bitch” Alex’s sister Beth chimed in.

“Hello to you to” his voice filled with annoyance from hearing her voice. It wasn’t that he hated her, it’s that she’s the golden child he’s always been compared to.

“So she’s coming right” his mom asked again.

“Mom I said I don’t know, our boss is picky with time off so he might not let us both off at the same time” he replied trying to cover as best as he could.

“You’ve been with her for three years. She’s never even visited with you the past two times you came home” his dad said in a stern voice. Alexs dad is the only one to have met her, he works a job similar to Alex and they crossed paths about three and a half years ago.

“I know, it’s not that she doesn’t want to meet you guy. It’s just that it didn’t work out the last time” he tried to sound sincere.

“Three years, she’s never around when you call, no visits, no pictures of you two together” Beth said.

“We can’t have personal phones or cameras with us on assignments Beth” Alex contemplated if just hanging up would be best.

“Ok, well what about when you’re off work” she’s persistent to crack him.

“Beth what are you trying to get at here” he sneered at her.

“You’ve been faking having a girlfriend haven’t you” her tone was cocky.

“Seriously Beth? You think I would lie about having a girlfriend for almost three years?” Alex said nervously laughing knowing the truth.

“I think you would, you’ve always been jealous of me so your trying to make yourself look good to the family”

“Beth, that’s uncalled for” his dad said to her.

Alex sighed “No Beth I’m not lying”.

“Ok, well if you two have been together for three years when’s the wedding? Three years and you haven’t fully committed to her. You must just be a easy lay for her”

“Beth” His mom yelled at her.

Before he could stop himself he said “Beth I’ll have you know we got engaged last month” it was too late to take back.

For the rest of the conversation his parent were ecstatic. And Beth was pissed off to say the least. Alex tried and tried to tell them not to share the news of his engagement. He knew they were going to share the news regardless of his wishes. His mother especially, she lives for gossip and drama.

His mother finally slowed the conversation after almost another hour “Well I best get off this phone now dear so you can go get some sleep, tell your sweetie I love you both”

“Will do, love you too mom” Alex said still trying to grasp his own stupidity.

And now Alex sits alone in the mess hall wondering how he could have dug himself such a big hole. And why did he have to drag her into this.

He couldn’t just tell his parents they ended their engagement. Surly not before his sister’s wedding. Last thing he needed was for his visit to be filled with pitiful conversations about him.

How was he going to fix this?

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