#mae writes: the bear

[mrscarmenbearzatto]

lost in translation | carmen berzatto

you get a job working as a waitress at the bear. if only you knew it would get you here. ─ 3.68k ─ angst and fluff, breakups / fighting, some cursing, reader is younger then carmy.

THE STRANGERS PHASE

The first time you and Carmen met was when Nat and Richie had hired you as part of the Bear staff. 

A waitress, and a sweet looking one at that. Younger than him. "You guys finally settled on a candidate?" Carmen asks as Natalie and Richie watch you from the small window in the kitchen.

You sit there for a moment before adjusting the silverware, passing Richie's test almost immediately. "I believe we just did." Nat confirms. Carmen takes a look for himself and swears his heart skips a beat as he watches you for a brief moment before clearing his throat, having to pull himself away. "Okay. Cool." He brushes it off.

He didn't get the chance to meet you right away, not until the night before their soft opening. You'd been through training, getting used to the system at the Bear and getting accompanied with staff. All but one. The head chef and owner, 'Carmy' as everyone called him.

"Hey, you're the new hire, right?" A voice asks as you shut your locker. You jump a bit, as you turn, smiling. "I am." The male nods, holding out his hand. "Sorry about scaring you. I'm Carmen Berzatto, don't think we've had the chance to meet." He introduces.

You accept the handshake, swearing you feel a little spark between you two just from touching him.

───

From there, it was like clockwork. You and him would get stuck closing together, and each night you'd dive into a new part of his past. "So, what made you wanna open this place?" You question. He exhales, momentarily pausing his movements of scrubbing the counters before he sniffles. "My brother left it to me after his death."

You pause, staring at him. "I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have asked-" He laughs. "You couldn't have known. It's okay, really. I actually wanted to work here, or what used to be here, for the longest time by his side but he didn't let me. Never knew why. It was the thing he left me in his will." He gives a more in depth answer.

You nod slowly. "I'm sorry about that, Carm. His death and not letting you work here." You specify as you look at him. "If it's any comfort, I think your brother would be really proud of what you've turned this place into." You say.

He nods, sniffling again. You set your rag back in the soapy water, sighing as you mark off your final station to clean on the clipboard.

"See you tomorrow night?" He asks as you begin walking to the lockers.

You smile. "It's a date, chef." You confirm. He blushes at the idea of you and him being on a date.

───

Carmen swore to himself he'd take you on an actual date. The planning was easy, it was actually asking you that he found to be a challenge.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" He asks, trying to sound as casual as he can the next night when you two are closing, which didn't come for almost a week. Though he was grateful, it also felt like torture having to wait to get you alone.

"No, I'm not actually. Chicago hasn't exactly been my Paris, you know? City of love and all that bullshit." You answer as you stare at the chore list for that night. "Check the mayonnaise labels. Does Nat think our mayo is expired?" You question.

“Nat thinks all of our stuff is expired one way or another. It doesn’t expire ‘till the nineteenth of May.” He grabs out a knife to start chopping the vegetables. “Anyway, Chicago isn’t really known for its romance.” He points out.

"So I've been told." You stare at the menu. "What's a vegetable medley?" You question as you look back up at him, catching him staring at you. He clears his throat and quickly sets the knife down, wiping his hands on a towel. "Uh, it's a bunch of veggies like green and yellow bell peppers, asparagus and squash topped with balsamic vinegar.” He answers.

You nod slowly. “Only you can explain something like that and make it sound so good right now, Carm.” "Did you eat today?" He doesn't hesitate to ask. "Haven't had a chance to. Richie had me running around all day with the new system, but don't worry, I'm gonna make myself something at home."

"No, come on. I'm- You're not driving home hungry like that. It’s a safety risk. Sit." You go to protest before he repeats himself. "Sit."

The entire night was spent with you and Carmen eating his way too fancy dishes and talking. Sharing memories - childhoods, dreams, stories.

He likes to consider it your first date.

You like to consider it the night you fell in love.

───

You weren't sure what you and Carmen were after that night in the kitchen. Or how to even ask. Do you just come right out and say it? Is there a specific way or time to ask? Google provided zero help, so it was up to you to solve this one.

Maybe that’s what was driving you and Carmy apart for the next week: your mind trying to run through how to even approach that with him. It wasn't until he ambushed you at your locker that you were forced to approach the topic with him. "Not talking to you all week has been driving me insane. Are we okay? If dinner was too much.." He lets his voice trail off.

You smile, as you exhale. "Carmen, I loved dinner. I was just unsure of where we stood. Thought I was driving myself crazy trying to figure out if that was a date or not." You admit. He stares at you, nodding slowly. "Let me take you out to an actual dinner. A real date night." He requests.

You nod. "Okay, I'd like that." You barely have another chance to speak before Richie's calling your name. You place a hand on Carmen's shoulder as you pass him, giving him a small smile before you rush to find out what Richie needs you for.

Carmen watches you leave, wishing you'd come back to him.

Carmen had thought of your date night perfectly. A romantic, rooftop dinner overlooking Chicago’s nighttime streets. “You bring all the girls up to your rooftop, Berzatto?” You question as you stare at the cars passing by.

“Only the special ones.” He’d answer with a grin.

You wished he kissed you that night, but he didn’t. Instead he settled for dropping you off at your apartment before leaving. You could tell he wanted to kiss you, too, but he wanted to wait.

"So, you and Carmen?" Sydney asks as you help her open the Bear that morning, cutting vegetables up with her. You sigh, a smile on your face regardless. "How'd you hear about that?" You question in return.

“It’s the Bear. There’s no such thing called secrets when you work here. Everyone knows everything about everyone. Now, you and Carmy?” She asks again as you laugh. “There’s nothing going on between us. He and I got dinner a few times, but I don’t think it’s going anywhere.” You say with a shrug.

She stares at you, noticing the blush in your cheeks. You grin. “Don’t even. Nothing has happened between us.” You reiterate. She laughs, grabbing her bucket of vegetables. "Whatever you say!"

You roll your eyes, turning and staring at Carmen in the doorway. There he goes again, staring at you when you aren't looking. It doesn't slide past you that he has a noticeable sparkle in his eyes.

───

Of course the universe would have it out for you and Carmen to close together that night. As you two stand over the counters, cleaning them down, you decide to ask the question that had been plaguing your mind.

"What are you and I?" You ask, looking up at him for the first time. His scrubbing stops, as he looks back at you. "I want us to be together." He answers honestly, and you're a bit taken back by his honesty.

“You seem like you’ve thought about this.”

“More than you know.” Translation: I’ve thought about you.

You nod slowly as you walk over to the sink, beginning to wash your hands. "I want us to be together, too. I just don't want this to be weird between us because we work together, you know." You voice your concerns as you grab the towel, drying your hands.

You turn, finding him standing behind you. "I don't care if we want us to be together. I want us to give.. us.. a chance." He says, taking your hand in his. You stare at your hands interlocked as you hum. "Carmen."

"Yes?" He asks softly.

"If you don't kiss me right now I might just walk out and not come back." You tease.

He doesn't have to be told twice, and he kisses you like he's been thinking about it. Like he's been needing that. Hands cupping your face, yours finding his waist.

You didn't need much of an answer as to what you and Carmen were after that.

THE LOVERS PHASE

You and Carmen had agreed: the staff didn’t need to know you two were officially dating. If it was important enough to share, sure. But other then that, you two wouldn’t go around publicly announcing it.

Turns out, dating Carmen wasn't much different from being friends with him. Except now you were in the kitchen at two in the morning, slow dancing with him.

It'd started with dinner that night. Him holding you from behind,

Frank Sinatra plays lowly on the radio as he spins you around, with you grinning as you sway with him. “Who taught you to dance, Berzatto?” You question.

“Nat did. Taught me for her wedding. Said if I looked like a fish outta water she’d ban me from the reception.” He answers with a lovesick grin. You laugh, throwing your head back. “Sounds like Nat.”

He smirks. “And who taught you?” He asks in return. You hum as he pulls you closer to his chest, as Sinatra’s ‘The Girl from Ipanema’ plays. “I did. Convinced myself when I was a little girl I'd be like Misty Copeland.” You answer.

He grins. Only two weeks had gone by with him being officially yours, and he was falling in love with you. Maybe that’s why it spilled out as he held you close.

“I love you.” His voice is hushed.

You pulled away only a bit to look at his eyes. Maybe searching to see if they were genuine, if he said what you think he did. "Carmen..." You smile, a laugh coming out. "I love you, too." You repeat it back to him.

"Take the too out. Makes it sound like you're just agreeing." He requests softly, lips brushing barely against yours. You giggle at his plea, but comply anyway. "Carmen, I love you." You say it again, this time it feels more real.

Two weeks in, and you two are in love. If you knew any better, you'd assume you were screwed.

───

"What do you wanna do with your life?" The question startled you as you and Carmen sat on the balcony of your apartment, overlooking downtown Chicago. Buildings illuminating the night sky, car horns blaring every few minutes from the nighttime traffic.

"I wanna open a bar. Maybe go to Los Angeles or New York, just open my own place. You know?" You hold your knees up on the patio chair with you, a cup of tea in hand. "Some dive bar but... fancier. Live music, live entertainment."

He nods slowly, grabbing out his notepad. "Get out of Chicago?" He asks. You laugh. "Pretty much. Don't get me wrong, I love this city. This just.. isn't the plan." You say with a shrug.

"Mm." He says, scribbling something down on the paper. You lean over, staring at it. "What are you drawing, Berzatto?" You question. "Nothin'. It's a surprise, if I show you it now it won't be a surprise." He points out.

You grin as you lean your head back. "Okay. What about you? Is the Bear your final dream?" You question, still looking over at him. He sets the pen down, looking over the skyline. "I don't know. Though until I met you I had all my dreams and goals figured out."

"Don't say it-"

"You're my new dream." He grins, looking over at you. You laugh, rolling your eyes. "That was unbelievably cheesy, Berzatto. I don't know if I can ever look at you the same after that." You tease.

"You don't have to look at me to kiss me." He points out as you roll your eyes, standing up. You give him a quick peck as you open the door, stepping halfway inside. "Don't take too long getting to bed, okay? It's cold out here." You comment.

"Yeah, yeah, I'm coming." He waits until you're fully inside to pull back out the notepad. Sketched on is a logo for a bar, your bar. Your name written in what he imagines is neon lights. 'ANGEL'S BAR'. The way he views you, an angel. His angel.

He hums, standing up and making his way inside, the notepad tucked under his arm. He finds you in the living room, sorting through the mail. “Hey, hey, my old college roommate’s getting married. New York. What a terrifying city.” You laugh as you set the invite down, before his arm wraps around your waist, pulling you down to the bedroom. 

───

Carmen had spent so much time in your apartment that it practically felt like his own. So, the idea of asking him to move in wasn’t totally crazy. His clothes were now hung up in your closet, his cologne and cedarwood soap lingered.

Your relationship with Carmen had grown, so much so that you were now spending time with his family. You stood in the kitchen of the Berzatto home. Your first family dinner with them, and it had been more drama filled then a soap opera. Soft music filled the room, cinnamon roll scented candles lit making the house smell like a bakery. Your scarf hung on the staircase banister. 

"First official Berzatto dinner. How ya holdin’ up?" Sugar asks as she slides beside you, handing you a glass of wine to match her own. "Oh you know me so well. It's going.. as good as I expected it to be. Are they always this chaotic?" You question.

"Hell yes. The Berzatto family has never been calm, y'know?" She laughs. "But you seem to be fitting in nicely. And this is the first year of us doing one of these that Carmen truly seems happy, I think you're to thank for that."

You grin. "Well, as long as he's smiling." You and her watch him in the living room, chasing down the younger family members, laughing as they tackle him down to the floor.

"Yeah, well, I've seen Carmen with other girls before, and none of them have made him this happy. So, on behalf of the Berzatto family, thanks for bringing us a smiling Carmy." She raises her glass to you as you laugh, lifting yours as well.

Carmen watches as you clink glasses with Nat as he enters the kitchen. "You two doing good in here?" He asks. "Oh, we are doing wonderful. I should go find my husband." Nat says, smiling and walking out of the kitchen.

You sigh, setting your wine glass down behind you on the counter. "Hi." He greets, arms wrapped around your waist. You hum, wrapping yours around his neck. "Hey you." You reply, pressing your lips against his.

“I’m really glad you’re here.” He says quietly after he pulls away, placing his forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

You smile, placing a hand on his cheek. “I’m glad too, Carm.”

───

Arguments in relationships are common. They’re healthy, they bring growth. You and Carmen had a fair share of disagreements but never ones where he called you the name he did tonight: clingy. 

“Can you just fucking leave me be for a second?! I don’t need you crowding me and being so- so fucking clingy.” Right in the office of the Bear, as you made sure he understood what was happening with Syd’s plans. 

Now here you were, in Nat’s living room. “He probably didn’t mean it, you know?” She asks softly as she pushes some of your hair out of your face, wiping tears that fall down your cheeks. “I think he’s just been so worried about our mom, her issues and the Bear.”

“What if he did mean it though? What if.. What if he was just with me out of convenience or pity?” You voice your worries. She shakes her head. “I have never seen Carmy as happy anywhere else as he is with you. He loves you, Y/n. He wants to be with you, no one else.” She replies.

“You don’t call the people you love clingy.” You point out. She sighs, letting you lay your head on her shoulder. No matter what she said, nothing changed how you felt. Carmen thought you were clingy. Whether subconsciously or not, he thought it. 

The thought made your heart ache. 

───

You were younger than Carmen, you knew that much from the moment you met him. But it had never been an issue in your relationship, until now it seems. A simple, offhand comment about kids and marriage you had made to Syd. You wanted those things, and you wanted them with Carmy. 

That’s what landed you in this position on a cold night, with him sitting on the armchair in front of you and you on the floor, crouched to try and read his eyes. Find any sign that you could get past this. 

“We’re just on different paths. I shouldn’t have allowed myself to get this close to you. And I should have stopped myself before I hurt you.” Translation: you’re still young and I can’t hold you back.

He didn’t stay after that. His clothes still hung in your closet, with you on the floor of the living room. 

Translation: what now? 

THE ENEMIES STAGE 

“So, plans for you being in New York?” Diane asks as you and her sit on the rooftop of her apartment building. You sigh, as you lean back on your chair. “Drink a lot. Forget my relationship problems in Chicago and hope for the best.” You answer with a nod.

She rolls her eyes. “Come on. You can’t expect to fix your relationship in different states without talking.” She points out as you look over at her. “When did I hire you as a relationship therapist?” You tease. “Carm and I will be fine.” 

You couldn’t find the translation anymore for what “fine” meant. 

───

The wedding was gorgeous. Diane looked stunning and her husband was the sweetest man. The sun was setting over Manhattan, as you sat at the open bar perched on the rooftop. Staring at the missed call from a familiar contact: ‘Chef’s Kiss’. Carmy. 

Maybe you had asked him for too much. Wanting kids, marriage. He’d give them to you if you asked, you knew that. But the idea of him just putting up with that just to keep you? 

You didn’t return his call or any of his texts. Instead, you kept quiet until you returned to Chicago a week later. A box perched on your apartment doorstep with your belongings. Jewelry, shirts you left at his place. All of them except for the scarf that still sat on Donna’s staircase banister.

Maybe he kept it because it smells like you. Or because it reminded him of something pure. The one thing he really knew was now gone, and the scarf was a fragment of that. 

───

It didn’t shock any of the staff at the Bear when you turned in your notice and stopped working there. Or when you took the couch you and Carmy used to sit on during late night conversations and moved it eleven hours with you to New York. Along with his hoodies, the one you wanted to keep most because it smelled like him still. 

You didn’t delete the videos or photos you had with him. It feels too real if you do. 

You stared at the kitchen. Where he used to hold you, scolding you for how you handled knives. The balcony, where he told you that you were his new dream. The living room where he’d kiss you like it was the first time. The bedroom, where some nights, he made you his own, and others he held you while you slept. 

The only thing you found in the apartment that was foreign to you? A piece of notepad paper, with “ANGEL’S BAR” drawn on the front. You stuck that in your pocket as you made your way to your car. 

It hurts to look at. It hurts to think about him. 

Now it’s just you, in your hundred square foot apartment that you share with a roommate now. You manage to delete the playlist of songs that he loved swaying with you to in early mornings in kitchen lights. You learn his favorite melody by heart: stranger, to lovers, to enemies.

─── 

Closing that chapter of your life, you focused more on opening Angel’s Bar. His logo on the front, in downtown New York. Soft piano playing as chatter fills the room, drinks being poured in the corners. 

It may have just been Carmen’s luck to find you on opening night, chatting around with the customers as he watched from the window, a familiar red scarf wrapped around his neck to help fight the cold air.

Translation: it reminds him of innocence. It reminds him of the better part of himself, the one you brought out in him.

Carmen learned to take lessons from break-ups pretty early on into his life. The one he got from you?

“Falling in love isn't for the weak. So don't try it at home.” He closes the book that he was given as an assignment for his AA class.

Maybe you were his favorite melody after all.

𓍢ִ໋🔪 ♡₊˚ 🧣・₊✧

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!

taglist ✨ (to be added please reply to this post in the comments!)

@wabi-sabi1090

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@kpopgirlbtssvt

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- mae

#maeberzatto #mae writes! #mae writes: the bear #carmen berzatto x you #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmen berzatto angst #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #the bear angst #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear fluff #carmy x reader #the bear fanfiction #the bear hulu #the bear fx

[kpopgirlbtssvt]

Does anyone know what Mrsmaeberzatto’s main blog is and if it was deactivated too? She deactivated this blog and I am devastated (@mrsmaeberzatto-deactivated20240)😭

I know she has a criminal minds blog, but o don’t remember what it is!

#carmen berzatto #carmen berzatto x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #the bear #the bear fx #Carmy #Carmen #mutuals #jeremy allen white #Mae #mae writes #mae rambles #criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer x reader

[moonwoodcollective]

"Ma'nene are, above all else, adaptable.

They survive by any means. A'yteh that bond with a Laeslae and live in their dens will eventually grow more scales, watch them shift color. A false maturation. Some things cannot change, but some things can: this has always been true. They didn't know it would happen, when they left, but it does; and it happens quickly. When they move into Arctis territory, slowly, surely, scales flake off. Their teeth dull. Their skin grows duller and duller. They begin to blend in.

Because the Ma'nene survive by any means, even self destruction." - @bugbearsims

#ts4 #ts4 portrait #ts4 edit #ts4 alien #amongussy #bears brain is huge #the writing above is by cub #bear and i have been working on this species for a couple of our ocs :] #so i mae some examples of subspecies within the ma'nene #in order: the yaudei the a'yteh the laeslae the pama kote & the doth-zo'to #i had a vision im v pleased with how they turned out #ma'nene #my sims

[saturnville]

and I drove you crazy, major john egan

pairing: major john egan x amelia mae

content: John is prepared to show Amelia that he is committed to her and only her. part two to sad girl. 18+ steam.

an: thoughts on MOTA pt. 7? again, thank you @turn-thy-paige for the letter-writing ideas.

tags: to maintain your place on the taglist, you're expected to interact! @turn-thy-paige @neeville @ineedafictionalman @ihe4rtisa @lovebyceleste

“Bucky, you haven’t shown her that you’re committed to her. She’s not obligated to wait around while you figure it out. You either want her or you don’t. But a woman like her doesn’t come around often, so I suggest you choose wisely. Other men are waiting to take your place.”

The words replayed in his mind like a song he couldn’t help but hum the words to. The logic of his best friend imprinted itself on the forefront of his mind. You either want her or you don’t. You either want her or you don’t. Choose wisely. Wise choices. Other men. Waiting. To take his place. His stomach churned in discomfort.

The sun dipped below the horizon, hues of orange and pink across the sky. John found himself alone with his thoughts, as he had been for majority of the day. The weight of his burdened his strong shoulders, and the fear of Amelia slipping through his fingers gnawed at his heart. His fingertips drummed against the iron headboard as his mind raced faster than a Jeep on a gravel road.

The silence in the room was deafening. He rose to his feet and paced around the room, his sock-clad feet slipping against the floor with every movement. With a heavy sigh, he collapsed against the bed again, carding through his hair in frustration. He knew he had to make things right, but where to begin, he wondered. That was the question that tormented him as he stared out the window, watching as the sun and moon traded places.

John felt stuck. He felt emotions he’d never felt before. They were big, they were intense, and they were overwhelming. He was rattled by Buck’s words, uncomfortable with the thought of another man looking in her direction, calling her beautiful, or asking her to dance. What would he do if she decided she wanted nothing to do with him? If she left him high and dry as she moved onto another man? His lip twitched in disgust.

He couldn’t believe it; a woman who he hadn’t known for even a year had turned his world upside down and it drove him insane. Caring for someone on such a deep level wasn’t what he was used to and it was an odd feeling. Having his chest cave, his throat constrict, and his shoulders burdened with guilt. Major Egan wasn’t sensitive to such things. But, John was.

His resolve solidified, John retrieved his boots and hastily packed a few belongings into his backpack. As he prepared to leave, a sleeping Buck stirred, casting a curious glance his way. "Where are you going?" Buck's voice was laced with concern, but John's determination was unwavering. "Amelia?" he guessed correctly.

John nodded, a sense of urgency propelling him forward. "I need to talk to her," he muttered, his jaw set in determination. With a final nod to his friend, he slipped out into the night, the weight of his goal heavy on his shoulders.

-

It was late. He was surprised when she let him enter her home. By the look she gave him, she seemed disturbed by his presence. He felt as though he had to walk on eggshells; the last thing he wanted to do was give her a reason to push him out and slam a door in his face. He had to be calculated. Meticulous.

John slid his bag off his shoulder and it hit the floor with an echoing thud. Amelia did not wait for him to gather his bearings before she walked away. He followed her into the kitchen, where she grabbed a ceramic mug from her cabinet and turned on the kettle. Its high-pitched whistle disrupted the disgustingly tense atmosphere his presence created. She swiped a tea bag from beside her stack of letters, placed it in the mug, and poured the piping hot water on top.

“Sugar?” she asked without facing him. He requested two teaspoons. She placed the mug in his hand. Always so considerate. However, the hope he had diminished at her question, “What brings you here, Major?” John forced himself not to roll his eyes in annoyance Had he upset her that badly? He sighed heavily and circled the rim of the mug with his fingertip.

“I wanted to talk to you, Rose.”

Amelia’s eyes narrowed. Her eyebrow rose and her tongue circle the roof of her mouth. It had been seven days since they’d spoken for more than five minutes and he came to talk to her late at night? She found herself growing more frustrated by his antics, but more disappointed by her inability to stand her ground. She refused to show any signs of weakness, so sternly she replied, “So talk.”

John pressed his back against the island, wincing once the draw handle punctured a weak spot. He placed the mug behind him. Carefully, he said, “You’ve been avoiding me. What’s that about?” Calculated. Meticulous. Walking on eggshells.

Her jaw clenched evidently. The muscles in her neck strained, her nostrils flared, and one again, her tongue circled the roof of her mouth. He recognized those mannerisms easily; she was thinking and trying to come up with an answer.

"I just figured I needed some space," she said after some time, her voice tentative yet resolute. “That’s all.”

John's expression shifted, a mixture of frustration and concern flickering across his features. So, we're doing this, he thought to himself. His chuckle was hollow, devoid of any amusement. Meeting her gaze, his voice was low as he probed, "Is that right?"

Her arms crossed defensively over her chest, a shield against the vulnerability of their conversation. She met his gaze with a hint of defiance, but her eyes betrayed the emotions swirling within her. With a hesitant nod, she affirmed, "That is correct."

His jaw tightened at her response, a surge of emotions rising within him. "You want to tell me why?" he pressed, his voice tinged with a mixture of frustration and longing.

Silence. Her jaw shook and her eyes welled with tears. She was strong enough to keep her rigid stature, but not enough to keep the lone tear from streaming down her cheek. She wiped it away quickly. “I don’t think we are on the same page here, John. I can’t tell if you’re wanting to be with me for entertainment or if you’re serious.”

“Amelia--”

She cut him off. “You take me out, you buy me a dozen roses a week, you send me letters, yet, for an entire weekend, I see women in your face…and what don’t you do? Reject their advances.”

He didn’t bother to speak as he knew she wasn’t finished.

“If you want a plaything, fine. A casual girlfriend, fine. You need to be honest and say it as it is. But I’ll let you know, I won’t be either one of those. I’m a good woman.”

John used his hands to press off the counter. He took a step toward her. “I know you are, Amelia, and its obvious I have made you feel that I don’t see that. I’m not going to say you’re right, but I can agree that I never made it clear with you what I wanted.”

Amelia’s chin rose as she soaked in his words.

“I do want to be committed to you. It hasn’t appeared that way, and I’m sorry. But, I haven’t cheated on you and I never will. I want this to work…I want to be yours in every way; tell me what I need to do, Amelia…”

He sounded so hopeless. His walls were torn like Jericho and left at her feet. Everything was new to him—love, commitment, and how to do it. John knew it left no room for excuse, but that was his honest truth. Everyday, he was learning how to love someone more than himself.

“Just put yourself in my shoes, Egan. I just wanted to be yours, in all ways, and I want to feel wanted by you. So, knowing that, how would you feel if you witnessed what I did, regardless of how loyal I claimed to be…”

The thought alone would drive him insane. He resisted the urge to show the look of despair that fought to show on his face. John urgently repeated, “Tell me what I need to do, Amelia.”

There was a moment of silence. Just a moment. It seemed like an eternity for John, who resumed drumming his fingertips, this time against the side of his thigh.

In an even tone and cadence, Amelia simply said, “Prove it.”

-

“Oh…” She was breathless. Her words were interrupted by soft whispers against the shell of her ear. She sighed softly against his face and wrapped her arm around his broad shoulders. “Johnny.”

Through hooded eyes, he caught a glimpse of her face. Her hair, which was usually pressed, was a curly array against her floral pillows. Her forehead glistened with the faintest sheen of sweat, which only made her glow under the rays of the moonlight. Her eyes were screwed shut and her lips were just hardly parted. Softly, he said, “My pretty girl.”

He brought his lips to hers, swallowing her soft cries and gentle moans. “I love you, darlin’. Do you love me?” She whimpered weakly, tracing the ridges of his muscles with her fingers. He winced when her fingertips dug into his skin.

“Yes!” she cried out. “I love you, I love you…”

As their bodies melted into each other, tangled in a fervent embrace, they whispered declarations of love into the quiet night. The four letter word sealed the bond between them. Love. And it was so.

#saturnville #black!reader #black reader #masters of the air #mastors of the air #mota fanfiction #mota fic #mota #mota fanfic #major john egan x black reader #major john egan x black!reader #callum turner major john bucky egan #major john egan x amelia mae egan by saturnville #major john egan x reader #john egan x reader #major john egan x amelia mae egan #major john egan #john egan #bucky egan x black reader #bucky egan x reader #bucky egan #callum turner x reader #callum turner x black!reader #callum turner x black reader #callum turner x reader #callum turner #Spotify

[carmenberzattosgf]

https://www.tumblr.com/carmenberzattosgf/747501125759107072/shall-we-discuss-that-carmy-seeing-you-interact

okay but like. he 100% sneaks you away afterward and his breeding kink comes out in full view. like, he’s fucking you in a bathroom and just ugh i need your thoughts on this

MAE MY BELOVED HIIII ( this ended up being so filthy. Im writing this at 2am idk why this came out of me)

hehehe yes. Like when Sugar brings the baby into the bear for the first time to meet all the staff, and you get to see the baby and interact with them.

Carmy’s just watching you try to make them laugh and you’re such a natural with the kid. He tries, like he really tries not to get those thoughts in his head. However that all goes out the window, fast.

“Such a cute little baby,” you say, walking up to lean against the counter beside Carmy. You’re eyes on still on the kiddo, watching while Richie tries to do something stupid to get a giggle out of the baby. “I can’t wait to have one someday.” The words left your mouth naturally, not thinking too much about it.

“Fuck— sweetheart, you can’t just say stuff like that to me.”

“What? What did I say?” You look genuinely confused at Carmy’s reaction. Wordlessly, Carmen grabs your wrist and drags you into his office.

Before you can catch a breath, Carmy has you pinned up against the door and presses his lips against yours. The kiss is heated and messy as his tongue works its way past your lips. His hips grind into yours and that’s when you feel it.

“Feel what you did to me?” He groans against your mouth before trailing down to kiss your neck. “You have no idea how many times I’ve thought about you having my kid.”

“Carmy—“ you gasp as he nips at the skin of your collarbone.

“You gonna let me fill you up?”

“Yes! Please, please, Carmy.” He said wastes no time, quickly pulling your pants and underwear down so you can kick them off your feet. His skilled hands undo his belt and lower his jeans just enough to get his cock out. You gasp as Carmy effortlessly picks you up and presses you up against the wall before sinking into you.

“You’re going to have to be quiet for me.” You can’t help the whimper that leaves your throat as he guides your legs to wrap around him. The movement makes his cock hit that spot deep inside of you. “You can be a good girl and be quiet, yeah? I can’t wait until work is over to fill you up. I need you to be dripping for the rest of service.”

His pace is merciless. Carmy pounds into you like there’s no tomorrow. “I-I want that. W-want to be dripping with your cum.”

“Knew you would want this. Fuck—“ His thumb reaches over to your clit, making quick circles. “Want me to knock you up? Get you pregnant?”

“Shit Carm—“ Euphoria and pleasure flow through your veins. You’re so close you can barely speak.

“Need to hear your words, baby. Do you want me fuck you full? To put a baby in you? That what you want?” His voice is thin as he speaks. He can barely get the words out, too lost in his own pleasure.

“P-please, Carmy. I- I need it. Need you to cum in me. Please, please, please.”

“Good fucking girl. Going to look so pretty carrying my kid. Let go for me, baby. I’ll give you what you want just let go.”

His words are all it takes for you to reach your peak. Your teeth sink into his shirt covered shoulder as you try and muffle your whines of pleasure. Your legs shake around his waist as Carmy groans into your neck, spilling hot inside of you.

You have to work through the entire service with Carmy’s cum steadily dripping out of you. All you can do is hope that no one heard anything coming from Carmy’s office. They were all focusing on the baby, right?

Carmy also definitely comes up behind you mid service and lets you know that he’s going to have to fill you up when you both get home. He’s gotta make sure it sticks!

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear #the bear fanfiction #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmy berzatto #carmy bear

[moseyluvs]

Terlingua Girl Sneak Peek

(Cowgirl x Matty)

A/N: I haven’t settled on an OC or Y/N so bear with me here. Also purely testing the waters with my writing style I’m a journalist so fiction is SO HARD HOW DO YALL DO IT.

_____________________________________________

He’s storming outside frantically lighting a cigarette when he first sees her.

She sits on an old wooden fence, all pouty lips, tangled hair, and long legs knocking around in an old pair of cowboy boots. She’s facing away from him, toward the pasture, head turned over her shoulder to get a look at the stranger who looks out of place causing a commotion.

She's a gangly little thing really, straight out of a semi-erotic burger ad. Back when they could get away with suggestive themes to sell a whopper. The curly-haired boy rakes through her appearance, light-wash cutoffs, and a white tank top you can see through if you squint.

“I take it you’re my new summer neighbor” She breaks the silence spinning around on the fence to face the man, revealing a slight southern drawl.

There’s a sparkle in her eye, a glint of curiosity. He's something shiny, something new, something to discover.

“Oh- uh- Yeah I guess I am” he manages to choke out. You'd think he's never seen a woman before the way he's staring at her now. His mouth is slightly open cigarette burning away at his side.

She grins. This is going to be fun.

#matty healy #the 1975 #matty healy fanfiction #matty healy fluff #matty healy fic #george daniel #ross macdonald #matty healy smut #matty healy fanfic #the 1975 fanfic #the 1975 fic #Spotify

[iridiss]

Returning to an old friend, my Cult of the Lamb x Night in the Woods crossover AU to expand on the concept of the relationships between the Bishops and their Witnesses. And also to finally give these characters proper designs! Under the cut is a helluva lot of writing elaborating on these 4’s history with their respective Bishops and their designs.

I’ve played around with the ideas of either having the Witnesses be anthropomorphic in their Eldritch Forms, matching the Follower designs and giving them the same level of autonomy as their minds possess, or to make them more beast-like, closer resembling Leshy/Heket/Shamura’s Eldritch Forms in their wildness, and closer resembling the animals they are. But in the end, I could tell that some characters, like Angus and Beatrice, would be better off beast-like, like a giant hulking bear made of trees and foliage and flowers that tries to crush you, or a crocodilian, Lovecraftian deep-sea “sea monster” that tries to snap you up from the watery depths, additionally as a small nod to the giant animals in Mae’s dreams (the bear and the crocodile.) But characters like Greggory and Lori especially would be more on the slightly anthropomorphic side in their Eldritch forms, with Gregg resembling a large and bloodied hound, and Lori being a mouse with too many eyes and too many slithering tails (as an additional reference to the Rat King or something Eldritch). Lori is still small, even smaller than Mae, but armors herself with a coat of spiders, who are a fundamental part of her attacking style. We’ve got an ancient Forest Lord, a brown bear that’s become one with the trees, a Bloodhound, a Lovecraftian sea monster from the dark Hadal Depths, and a rat that’s become one with the spiders in the attic.

As for their history with their Bishops, let me tell you a story of 4 parts.

——

The Gods were never kind to Angus.

Leshy’s rule was one of chaos, and Angus must’ve been the most orderly and logical person in the entire cult. Leshy believed in raw strength alone, and as a big brown bear, Angus guesses he had potential enough to be “worthy.” What a joke that was. He was the pawn of a child, breaking whatever Leshy threw a fit over. Being an incredibly prideful leader, Leshy made his own rule that none of his Witnesses could see better than him after Narinder’s betrayal robbed him of his eyes. So per Old Faith law, Angus’s sight was removed, completely. He learned to adapt to the viciousness of the wilderness, relying on his other senses to survive and keep himself in Leshy’s good graces. He grew more at home in the woods than he’d ever been before, he memorized how to make flower crowns and weave crafts out of grass. Over the decades, moss grew amongst his fur and dark branches from his head, with Camellia flowers woven into his fur. He may have been afraid of Leshy at first, when he was younger, but now he had grown to be nothing but tired. This was the way things were, this was the irrefutable demand of the universe and the beings that ruled his every breath. He was nothing more than a measly ant. There was no point in fighting it, when Leshy could strike him dead at a moments notice. “This is the way it must be,” he would say to his victims before their inevitable execution, “there is no other option.”

And then another option came in guns blazing, screaming and mowing down the Old Faith like a hurricane on acid. Almost overnight, Leshy was dead, Angus had been beaten, stripped of his power, and thrown into someplace new. Everything had changed.

At first this was every drop worth freaking out over, but…here, the night was serene, the mortals happy and oblivious of any harm, all the screaming had gone away. It was so quiet here.

The truth is, Angus was a gentle giant who’d much rather study the stars than go on bloody crusades. Mae’s new way took some getting used to, but it was worth it. He was cautious at first, not exactly cynical, but he would have been unsurprised the moment “a catch” manifested. He was slow to adjust, having lived his whole life still in one place. But in time, he realized the depths of the scars he bore from Leshy’s destructive rule, everything Leshy had done to him and forced him to do when all he cared for was soft flower petals and damp grass after summer rain. He had his quiet place now. He was finally free.

Helping him get through it, and understanding in his own unique way, was this little obnoxious coyote that Angus…vaguely remembered to be Heket’s Witness? He seemed sweet, sincere, fuzzy, a bit loud, but he understood. Maybe he’d be better off staying here for a while, with Mae, Gregg, all these happy little mortals, and whoever else comes along.

Greggory Lee had a purely militaristic bond with his General, the Goddess Heket. He was her best soldier, her hunting dog. He tracked down the heretics and runaways, and once he found them, he put an end to them, just as Heket commanded. Like a bloodhound to a rabbit, he was loyal. Except, Gregg will always be Gregg, so whenever he was under the impression that Heket was busy or not specifically watching him, he would go to town with whatever chaotic fun he wanted to have that day, consequences be damned. If she was all shout-y serious military business, then he was a wildfire let loose the second her grip loosened. And to a degree he was never fully aware of, his wild antics supported her empire with the sheer fear they instilled on the mortal civilians. At any time, War’s bloodhound could come raging through the village, pillaging whatever he thought was shiny or cool, blowing up whatever was combustible, setting fire to huts and ignorantly letting it spread, and if you opposed the Witness of War himself, you might just get eaten. The chaos was humbling. Gregg was never fully aware of the extent of the damage he caused, it was all good fun for him. That was the job, that was what he was made for, fun. He never quite saw their faces, just ran in, had a good laugh, and left. He was so bored, he might as well do something with his time.

It took a pretty extreme event in order to force him to see the full picture. His first ever doubts started to sink in during the great sheep extinction. The Old Faith had received a prophecy from Shamura: Death was coming. Their only hope to survive would be to kill every last sheep and ram on the continent. Only thing is, there was no way to make this not personal. To track down every last one, to get in their face, make eye contact, see their final moments, hear the screams up-close, feel the bodies go limp in the vulnerable snare of your own bloodied teeth. Becoming the very real version of a child’s worst nightmare, the bogey monster out to get them, was unavoidable. Gregg was…never quite the same, after that.

He was the first to fully and openly accept the death of the Old Faith, immediately embracing the new rule of—well, not exactly The One Who Waits, but Mae was pretty cool. He liked her. As a follower, Gregg is still a bit disaster-prone in the commune, occasionally setting things on fire on accident, but it always sends him into a panic that promptly cleans up whatever mess he makes. He’s a bit of a handful, but he’s incredibly loyal to Mae. He’s doing everything he can to be a good person now.

He had no bond with his Bishop. The only connection he had to the Old Faith was one he’d deeply regret for the rest of his life. Mae on the other hand, all she ever asked of him was to live happily and peacefully in a commune, she never asked him to massacre thousands of innocent souls for something as petty as a rule, or a God’s ego. Death to the Old Faith, he says. Why should he care?

Out of every Witness, Beatrice would have been with her God the longest. Her memories of a mortal childhood had grown fuzzy and distant. Beatrice devoted her whole life and future to Kallamar, giving up everything she had just for him. To her, devotion wasn’t something you did out of joy and love and reverence for your God, devotion was knowing how to survive. This was the way of life, and she would see to it that every last order was followed through with shining marks and perfection. And wherever Kallamar’s cowardice slacked, she would pick up the weight, she would carry his entire Kingdom on her two shoulders alone. This was survival, this was life, this was truth, this was wisdom, this was responsibility, this was reaching the top and staying the best of the best, the Queen of fear and order dictating the helm of an entire Empire crushed under her foot. When this was the brutal truth of reality and life, why would you waste time thinking about a happy merry-go-rainbows imaginary life, when you should be doing your job? She needed this. This was everything.

And then the Gods began to fall. Leshy had died. The ball had dropped. She didn’t know it was possible for a God to die, but sure, Leshy was of the weaker kingdoms. She should have seen it coming a mile away that the youngest runt of the Gods would eventually be snuffed out. But Mae kept going, and then Heket fell. The Goddess of War and Wrath, defeated.

Kallamar’s fears grew worse. The target fell on his back next, and Beatrice knew that sniveling coward couldn’t take the blow. She prepared herself to fight, her time had come, it was her throne to take. She was ready, but for some reason, she was trembling.

And then Kallamar was killed. The other shoe dropped.

Everything that Beatrice had been repressing for decades, maybe even centuries, came back to hit her in the face with a baseball bat. Mae had destroyed everything, and now the responsibility of bringing back the Old Faith and killing an unstoppable force had fallen on her shoulders, with everything else. The Land of the Old Faith was in crumbling disarray, and she desperately tried to fix it and put it back together in the 42 hours (or less) she had left to live. This was nothing more than a deranged little child, a single cat. She could beat her. She could fix it, she could fix everything—

She lost.

Something Beatrice was only able to realize after every last drop of responsibility withered away was just how exhausted she was. She was worn thin, hanging by a string that was tearing. When that string was finally cut, she could freefall, right into the comfort of a safe little idyllic, bright and merry, imaginary commune.

“What the fuck.” Was the first thing she said when she saw it.

You couldn’t just get rid of the Old Faith, you couldn’t just rewrite all of reality itself. Mae was only one woman, how could she possibly have stopped all this? But she did, and she had the insanity to keep going. What the absolute fuck. And worse yet, Mae had spared her life! She had the audacity to kill her captor and “set her free,” she had the audacity to break everything she’d ever known, thinking you could just let go?! This was unheard of!

But then again, Bea hadn’t taken a nap in decades. Actually, she wasn’t sure if she’d ever slept in the past century. She hadn’t ever experienced the peace and fun of dreaming. And now she had a schedule entirely of free time, whether she liked it or not. Beatrice…took a very long time to warm up to Mae. And it took even longer for the shock to fade, to stop feeling weird about this new, free place she was put in. Before Mae, she was overworked, slowly losing herself down the rabbit hole leading to a very dark place. And as time went on, she could finally see herself again, and as she looked at the other Witnesses playing in the grass and making gay little flower crowns, she realized what she could have become if she continued to silently, secretly fall apart. She…could be happy now. Maybe. She’d have to find out if that was even possible…

She also had to admit it was incredibly satisfying to see Narinder, the last God, doing janitorial work while she could sit back and sip on her pina colada made of Darkwood berries. If only she could have seen Kallamar finally do his job while she took a much-needed break.

Lori Meyers was a young, mortal mouse, always the outcast amongst her peers and village-mates. She preferred to keep to herself, hidden far away in the dark that was comfortable, that was predictable, that was beautiful. She found things like bugs, gore, guts, the night, horror—especially spiders, she loved spiders— she found them to be so cool, but for some reason, no one else did. And that made her the weird one. Growing up, all of these things that she was told by her peers deeply got to her, making her quick to become quite anxious before she’d ever share a cool looking bug with someone she liked, because it never turned out well. She wanted to be fine, isolated all by herself in her dimly-lit caves infested with spiders, earwigs and centipedes, she was the only person she ever needed—but even still, she always wanted to have someone to talk to. She would kill to have someone that would hear her talk about how centipedes and millipedes have these super epic pores that shoot out hydrogen cyanide gas that poisons their prey- or- or how cool and exceptional it is that jumping spiders have the brain power to effectively use the scientific method by constantly studying their environment and learning from their mistakes!

And like a miracle of the Gods, she did find someone.

Shamura and Lori likely had the most positive relationship out of all the Bishops and their Witnesses. Lori was scared of them at first—and that never truly goes away, when you’re dealing with a mighty Deity of the Old Faith. But when she spoke, they listened, and in response, they showed her new things to study. When she posed curiosity in unknown species of insect and creature, they would lift her up into the treetops with their colossal, claw-like legs and show her the truth. Shamura cultivated her mind, gave her all the resources and books she needed to learn and grow and become the true scholar her peers could never be. She learned fast, she had a quick wit, and a love for learning all that Shamura’s realm shined best in, and thus she quickly seated herself, obliviously, as the best heir to their throne.

An apprentice to follow in their shadow, a student for only the greatest of minds. The only thing is, she was so young…some way or another, she would have to grow up into a monster. A killer, an executioner, a judge. That would be where the doubt set in for Lori. She only wanted to learn, she never wanted things to come to this, but when not only your God but your closest friend gives you an order…

Lori was devastated with Shamura’s defeat. Her only ally was dead, she was alone again, and to make everything worse, she was the very last line of defense meant to stop Narinder from taking over the world. On one hand, she felt very small, and still very much a child, but on the other hand, she was full of rage and covered in millions of tiny spiders that could feel her grief as much as she. She still ended up losing, reluctantly succumbing to The Witness of Death and becoming a follower. She clung the most to Beatrice in the cult, as the best person who could understand her, but also as someone who tolerated her ramblings. It took her a while to warm up to Mae, and to fully understand the necessity of Shamura’s death. That would come with time and years of gradual reflection as she grew up in Mae’s cult.

The lesson that Lori would teach Mae about the Gods would be two things, one directly from Lori, and one indirectly from her. One would be how much Lori would challenge her faith in TOWW without ever truly dissenting, acting as a mirror for what TOWW’s horrors might look like. The other would be Mae looking at how Shamura kidnapped this child, isolated her from her family and parents, and raised her to be a murderer against her will, and how much indoctrination and manipulation goes into a cult just to make someone still fully believe in their leader even well after they’ve been seriously hurt by them. Lori was a more complicated case than Angus or even Gregg, but she still had her scars. And if Lori had been tricked by the Gods, had Mae been tricked as well? To what degree did TOWW suffer the same flaws as his siblings, to what degree was Mae a gullible child in the hands of a master manipulator, to what degree was this right? Was serving these Gods even worth it? What if she only did what she wanted? What if she just wanted to be happy? What if she was like all four witnesses before her, what if she threw her bat away and rejected this Old God’s offer? Sure, she was small, sure, she was an insect screaming against a mountain, but damn it, they only wanted to be happy. Mae, Angus, Gregg, Beatrice, Lori, all of them.

But this time, she could do something about it. She was the God-Killer. She could make it whatever she wanted, and Narinder would be a fool if He thought she wasn’t going down without a fight.

#COTL x NITW crossover AU #cult of the lamb #night in the woods #writing #story #fanfic #cult of the lamb x night in the woods crossover au #cotl shamura #cotl Heket #cotl Leshy #cotl Kallamar #NITW gregg #NITW angus #NITW mae #nitw bea #NITW Beatrice #Greggory Lee #angus delaney #beatrice santello #Lori meyers #nitw lori #cotl old faith #art #digital art #artwork #artists on tumblr #character design #sketch #tw spiders #arachnophobia

[chrisevansonly]

Little Duck's Tea Party (Little Duck AU🐥💛)

Pairing: Dad! Chris Evans x Arlie Mae (Little Duck)

Summary: Little Duck is having her weekly tea party, and this week’s special guest is her dad, I wonder what costume and makeover he’ll be getting today? 

Warnings: none, just very fluffy and sweet girl dad Chris, he and Arlie are just my favourites

A/N: Here is the first fic of the day, this idea was I think a suggestion by an anon and I really fell in love with it, so I wanted to write a little something, I hope you enjoy it, thank you for all the love on this page recently, I appreciate you guys so much

Word Count: 756

Arlie was hard at work setting up her special tea table, laying out plates, cutlery mugs, she was pulling out the whole nine yards because today, her daddy would be the special guest at Arlie’s Tea House. To be completely honest neither you nor Chris could figure out where she thought of the name, but it was the cutest little concept she’d come up with recently. Her playroom was now set up, the table looking very beautiful with little flowers and sparkles intertwined between the utensils and plates. Arlie made sure to add Duckie to a seat as well as her stuffed brown bear named boobear, yes, she named him boobear, when she deemed the space perfect enough, she yelled down to Chris

“Daddy!!!! Come to tea party!!!”

Chris chuckled at the urgency in Arlie’s tone, kissing your forehead and making his way up the stairs to her party 

“I’m coming up little duck!”

Arlie giggled and as he reached the top of the stairs her head poked out behind the door 

“Hi daddy!”

“Hi baby, you all ready for our party?”

She nodded, smiling her famous megawatt smile 

“I am, but you not ‘weady yet!”

He crouched down to her level and swiped a piece of hair out of her eyes 

“Oh, I’m not?”

Chris could notice she was holding something behind her back, and he had an inkling of what it could be 

“No daddy, you need to put on special hat and makeup silly!”

Never in his years of living did he ever think he would find himself staring at what everyone, his wife included says is a carbon copy of him, his baby girl, in all her excitement as she waited for her favourite man in the world to let her dress him up. He would move mountains for Arlie, and if that included a makeover from the toddler, then he’d be dammed if he ever said no

“Alright then duck, help me get all ready for tea!”

Arlie pulled him further into the room, making him sit in a chair far too small for him, but he wouldn’t complain, especially if it was Arlie putting him in it. They spent some time laughing together as she mixed blues, purples, and pinks from her kiddie eyeshadow palette, using a small brush to put it on his eyes. Chris made sure to stay extra still so she wouldn’t mess up, a smile creeping up when he noticed her tongue poking out of her mouth as she concentrated on the colour of blush she was going to use. Her little eyebrows furrowing together in thought as every step and product of makeup was applied to Chris’s face

“Okay daddy, just lips then done!”

Chris chuckled before pouting gently so she could apply what he saw was a cherry red lipstick, yeah…cherry red

“Wow Daddy!! You so pwetty now!!”

“Was I not pretty before duck?”

Arlie shook her head no and he laughed, watching as she put the makeup away neatly, turning and clasping her hands together 

“Sit down fo’ tea now pwease daddy!”

Chris found his spot and Arlie got to work, setting out snacks, plastic of course, and filling their cups with water, there was absolutely nothing but joy radiating from his baby girl, and it was one of Chris’s favourite sights. They two of them were partners and crime, and when you snuck upstairs to check on them your heart warmed watching the two playing with Duck and Boobear, a slight chuckle slipping out noticing Chris’s amazing makeup job. When you snapped a quick photo both of their faces turned to you and Arlie waved

“Hi momma!!”

“Hi my love, look at how beautiful you made daddy!”

Chris narrowed his eyes playfully at you, a wink being sent back in his direction 

“Daddy so pwetty now, you want some tea momma?”

After pretending to think about you agreed, taking your spot next to Chris, Arlie pouring some water in your mug

“Arlie does momma get her makeup done too?”

You smiled getting yourself ready for all her makeup and artistic talent when she laughed 

“Daddy you so silly! Momma alweady’ pwetty without it!” 

You couldn’t hold in the laugh that escaped as you leaned over to kiss Chris on the cheek, his eyes rolling slightly before he joined you in laughing. If there was anything about your little duck, is that she was not afraid of honesty, she’d tell you the truth no matter what, and clearly, she wasn’t shy about it.

#little duck au💛🐥 #little duck head cannons🐥💛 #little duck 💛🐥 #momma & arlie mae #momma x arlie mae #momma x little duck 💛🐥 #chris evans & momma evans #chris evans x arlie mae #chris evans x little duck💛🐥 #chris evans x female reader #dad! chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans x wife reader #chris evans & arlie mae #rueswrites #chris evans fan fic #chris evans imagine #ruesfriends💛

[socheckitout-mikey]

heey y’all! (‘: i don’t usually write smut, but this was a request from my old blog. it’s taken my ass like deadass three years to write it. ik it’s super long and i got carried away, but i’m proud bc i haven’t written smut in a very long time. originally it was meant to be semi nsfw but i went the whole nine yards instead!

also i’d like to give credit to @brideofcthulhu10 for helping me with this one. she helped co-write the beginning, whilst also giving me amazing pointers and keeping me on track when it came to marko’s character. so deffo give her blog a look through bc she’s such an amazing writer! <3333 - mae

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

(GIF credit: @bonniebirddoesgifs)

Title: The Dilemma

Pairings: Marko x Fem!Reader

Summary: As any high-school senior, end of year exams encroach upon you, which results in your disappearance from the infamous Boardwalk. Marko, your vampiric boyfriend, feels awfully neglected and sees the strain that boring old studying is causing you. After being a gigantic nuisance in your time of need, Marko decides to aid you with your dilemma by getting you to to unwind. An innocent massage turns to much more. (READER IS 18/19 YEARS OLD IN THIS PIECE!!!)

Word count: 9,916

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD SO 18+ ONLY!!! MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI! YOU WILL BE BLOCKED!! READER IS 18/19 IN THIS PIECE!!! Anxiety, angst, mentions of tension with parents, mentions of reader throwing things at Marko (mainly bc he scared her and also a plushie), established relationship, argument, make out session, massage, oral (female receiving), sexual content, unprotected sex, hair pulling, marking, depictions of blood, blood drinking/feeding and Marko being a sex God v.v Lemme know if I missed anything.

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

  Finals had encroached upon you and the rest of your senior class like a throttling bitter conclusion. An immense pressure had settled upon your slumped shoulders in a complex manner. It all gave you an uproarious migraine. Perched upon those shoulders of yours was a Devil and an Angel, reciting an exhausting, unanimous monologue you had encountered fervently with frustration and exhaustion for the past few weeks. The Devil enumerated vividly about how the stress of hunching over your books would only cause your spine to permanently warp, whilst grey hairs would prematurely appear on your head. It whispered of the sincere notion that you would be able to seek vehement pleasure by kicking back and relaxing with your boyfriend Marko; who currently laid sprawled out against your cushiony pink covers in an absurdly bored fashion behind you. He was the poster child of, “Are you finished yet?”

  His only purpose was to grate on your nerves that much more viciously.

  The Angel held up its own assertive chant with the utmost conviction. A soothing lullaby that frankly lulled you into boring hibernation, as if you were a grizzly bear entering its cave for the tundric winter months to come. You were well aware that it spoke of knowledge, reason and logic. The qualities that were dwindling — yet with its vibrant torch, it led the way to the future you so desperately had dreamed of since you were in middle school: A good job meant a good home, and so the domino effect would hopefully follow you in a cascading positive effect. Yet passing wasn’t everything, right? Well, the Angels’ lustrous song seemed to disrupt the already choppy sea wrecking the ships in your mind, pointing the way to salvation. However, you felt as though the Devil latched on, shoving you under the bartering force that the School District whipped into your back. You were merely a slave to the formidable system.

  And thus the Angel and Devil fought their daunting battle amongst who could lead you quicker to each destination they desired for you to propel towards. The truth of the matter was that there was no balance within the chaos. You either went all in or did nothing at all. You were only battling with the Yin and Yang within you, but you didn't quite realise that. You needed someone else to obtain that truth and light it up in a firework festival. That someone was unfortunately your bouncing boyfriend Marko.

  The sudden weight upon your tired shoulders felt like an angsty teen drama — unbearable. They slumped down with a force as you looked at the Math equations before you with contempt. Your mind was playing tricks on you because now the algebra seemed to be written in some bizarre language you swore was only known by extraterrestrials. Never had you experienced such affliction quite so potent in all of your young years of living until this very moment in time. High school, fortunately, had come and gone like the spring’s floral breeze, allowing for the stuffy summer heat to bound through the atmosphere like a blundering bull in a China shop. Great, now you were sweating too.

  Despite your immortal boyfriend, Marko, having intermittently insisted that you hadn’t needed the extra education, you had graciously swung your bat in a conflicting vicious fashion. Your battered old baseball had leapt its last journey, landing into the lap of a comfortable Community College here in Santa Carla. Your original aim and hope had been to apply for greener pastures, such as the university in the nearest plush city. Yet you knew it was too far away from the Boardwalk. Your painfully vampiric boyfriend would kick up a putrid stink at the mere notion of you being so far away. Especially since daytime already kept you both apart, creating such a colourful apprehension to course through your very mortal veins.

  You’d miss Marko too much as well, and slumming it under your bed in the dorm room all day and night just wouldn’t cut it. It wasn’t going to be the ideal move for any party involved. Familiar sunny Santa Carla would just have to do before you surfed your last wave, ticketing you straight to The Immortality Club.

  “College?!” Marko sputtered out like a dying steam engine.

  His hazel eyes blinked several times in absolute bewilderment as his body froze. The brown fuzzy teddy bear he had been carelessly chucking up and down in the air in a mindless fashion missed his right hand entirely. Its furry, soft backside flopped with a tender bounce atop his chest.

  “Why would you go back to school baby?” He inquired desperately, “You’re already done.” His words hung in the air, thick like an uncomfortable smog riddled with consternation.

  His nimble fingers swatted the bear off of him and he sat up straighter than a plank. The tender plush bounced off of your floorboards, tumbling into your open closet.

  The same fingers suddenly danced restlessly to your dusty, cluttered nightstand where he aimed for that prized purple pen with the fluffy pom-pom dotted on the end of it: His digits fiddled with it fruitlessly, eyebrows creased together. Boy was he all sorts of twitchy tonight since boredom had taken hold of him by the balls. He felt as though he was going crazy. Especially with the apprehension at your announcement to further your needless education. Who needed books and crammed study sessions when you could be a youthful undead being for the rest of eternity? You’d never grow old, never die — this was a total blessing sitting right in your lap! Yet you shoved it off to the side without another thought. All of the previous discussions you’d had with him about turning meant nothing to you now, or so it seemed. Poofing into thin air, therefore to Marko, it meant you’d been replaced by some other worldly ghost that reeked of crippled anxiety; which, by the way, was akin to the rotting scent of death itself.

  He had lazily propped himself against the headboard of your bed now, eyes not meetings yours — almost as if he were too meek to look up at you. He already knew the answer to his question from interpreting the blurry, chaotic dance of your thoughts rattling in your brittle skull. One more thought and your head would come blowing off! After all, he’d also noticed that physically you were in a frenzied stupor of stress and inner turmoil. You reeked of palpable insecurity and rotting angst, just like a teenage drama on screen. Blegh! It caused the blond boy to crinkle his hooked nose wryly, warping his angelic gestures.

  Part of the reason why Marko alluded to the opportunity of peering up at you was due to the simple fact that his visit had come to be a frightening ordeal on your behalf. One that led to an abundant earful of curses and a book to have been launched at him — almost knocking his head clean off his shoulders. Right, you had the reflexes of a rabid raccoon startled by a rat when you were snuck up on. He knew better than to do such a thing. Luckily he had ducked just in time, smartly remarking that you should have gone for sports instead. He regretted the witty quip instantly by the displeased look on your face. So he was cast upon your frilly bed to pass the time like a woeful jester sentenced to imprisonment for not having entertained his Queen accordingly. The tragedy of it all!

  And although you were aggravated at his unexpected visit — more salty over the fact he’d frightened you —, you did not have the slightest of hearts to kick him out. It felt too heart wrenching for you to do so. In fact, it was like kicking a stray kitten out into the rain. His damn bulbous eyes whenever you’d get close to the notion would appear like round, quivering rain drops — the pupils heavily swallowing the earthy iris. So you sighed instead, turning back to your work whilst Marko made himself comfortable. Well, as comfortable as his bored self would permit.

  “I don’t want just a job, Marko.” You muttered irately under your breath from over your complex Math equations that were scrawled in their dreadful chicken scratch language upon gridded paper.

  “I want a career! I wanna hone a craft.” You explained further with a nonchalant wave of your wrist. Your tone was curt, attempting to balance out his boredom that apparently began to increase the longer he remained there.

  You paid no heed to his insistence, scribbling your notes with a vengeance for the paper you carved it into.

  “That’s what I mean though,” Marko huffed out a hefty sigh, sitting up straight suddenly with his legs criss-crossed in a half lotus position. “Why do you need to work, anyway? Just one bite and BAM! All your problems would be gone, baby doll. I keep tellin’ ya!” He exclaimed animatedly, hands thrown up in the air in his own heated and wondrous stupor.

  He’d even get David to teach you how to use compulsion so you could get whatever you wanted. It was so pathetically simple! He wondered now if you’d hit your head recently to have forgotten the simplicities of becoming a vampire. No stress would ensue, so long as you abided but the rules. Why couldn’t you just see that?

  “Hush! I’ve already made up my mind about this. You’re not going to change it!” You quipped back sharply, grabbing a rusty coloured stuffed cat from your messy desk and hurled it half heartedly in his direction for the second time that night.

  Damn, you really did mean business tonight.

  The plushie cat managed (miraculously may I add) to bounce tenderly off of the side of his perky blond curls. A low laugh escaped from his sharp mouth. He was well aware by now that you were only attempting to push him away due to the draining stress of academics. The prospect of taking things too personally had been going really swell up until this point. He wasn’t going to afford himself to buckle now like he would from anyone else. Afterall, any other person who launched two objects at him would be decapitated and dead at his musty booted feet. You were getting off easy by a mile in comparison. You didn’t even know how much Divine Intervention had spared you at this point.

  So instead he untangled his thin legs from their half lotus position, swinging them off the edge of the bed as he observed you nervously wind your fingers through your hair — tugging slightly at the roots in vexation. The sight made him feel sympathy for you, a feeling that was nearly completely foreign to someone like him. It caused his dead stomach to knot and twist uncomfortably because he just wanted to lend you a helping hand. He just wasn’t sure how he could. School work wasn’t exactly his forte and all, being as he never acquired much of an education when he was a kid at the end of the last century. Nevertheless, he was your boyfriend and boyfriends had to take care of their girlfriends, right?

  With a defeated sigh, Marko pressed his strong palms on his knees and found the sudden energy to get to his feet. His chunky boots clunked noisily on the ground, an incessant irritance to you. It made your body visibly cringe in your chair with each step he took. It was as though he was dropping bricks of led onto the ground. Your boyfriend, lost in his own deep thoughts, remained oblivious, wandering aimlessly to your bookshelf in search of something to cure his doldrum. The shelves were coated in a peculiar thin layer of dust, a dead giveaway that you had not kept this space to its usual tidiness. His inquisitive fingers collected the fluffy debris similar to dust bunnies on the tips before swiftly rubbing them together, which disintegrated his fuzzy pals into mere nothingness.

  ‘Damn, when was the last time you cleaned this place?’ He thought. It wasn’t like you to just allow things to collect dust. At this rate, you’d end up having your own personal Cave that Marko didn’t want a hand in helping you clean.

  His pesky touch ventured along, dancing across the spines of old tattered novels aged well with love. Reading wasn’t really his style, but he supposed he didn’t mind it when he’d lounge in your lap like a cat, bathing in the stark silver moonlight whilst you read ‘The Outsiders’ to him late into the night. The accents you pulled off were enjoyable, a husky hushed twang so your parents wouldn’t hear. You always did a spanking job at Matt Dillons’ Dallas Winston. He couldn’t help but snort at the times you’d tear up during said character’s devastating death. It had alarmed Marko the first time it had happened. Now he only ever teased you about it, equipped with the ability to wipe your tears away and give you a moment to settle before continuing. He enjoyed those memories a lot.

  Marko’s marvellously silver tongue clicked in his mouth liberally to an unordinary beat he’d plucked out of thin air from many moons ago. It did nothing but sourly distract you from your work. Your body tense once more, knee jerking in a wild bouncing fashion, knocking the underside of your desk in time with his clacking tune. You chewed your pencil menacingly, the brittle wood splintering slightly in your mouth. It made astounding practice for future inevitable victims. Perhaps the School Board would be your first ones.

  Still, the more you travelled down the mental highway, you felt nothing but guilt at the thought of kicking Marko out. Recalled his disheartened countenance that struck his handsome features at the mere inkling of casting him out into the bewitched humid night.

  Just when you thought you’d lost your mind enough, Marko flicked the power switch of your radio as if on purpose. The speakers screamed to life, blaring out the belting introduction of You Give Love a Bad Name by Bon Jovi. The precipitous noisy intrusion throttled into the air, shocking your eardrums. It scared the living daylights out of you for the second time that night! Marko’s mouth spread into a harmless grin, mouthing the lyrics with the utmost enthusiasm; his hands scrambling to his abdomen to begin shredding on the gnarliest air guitar he could muster. His head and body hopped comfortably along to the hypnotic drum beat and flourishing bass, floating up on a mouthwatering guitar riff and husky vocals to die for. Edgy.

  As if possessed by a formidable spirit, you whipped around in your seat, eyes wild with offence. All of the equations behind you were now abandoned. You were giving Marko the look that could surely kill even an immortal. He seemed to be on another planet, too deep in the rock n’ roll blaring boisterously from your speakers to take note of your inconvenience.

  Prompted by a supernatural sixth sense, the curly blond turned to look at you — an honest inquiry over whether his air guitar appeared better than Paul’s ready on the tongue. It’s life, a premature one, slid back down his throat and into his voice box. Realisation hit him when the usual mischief in his facial expression fled his countenance entirely. He mimicked that of a child being told off by its raging mother.

  “Oops!” His lips mouthed, turning off the radio instantly.

  The stark silence built thickly in the air, only allowing the remaining orchestra of cicada’s outside to be heard. Your heart was pounding in your chest, that vein in your forehead bulging with every beat of your galloping heart.

  “Sorry babe.” He stated sheepishly, hands held up in surrender by his head.

  “It’s fine. It’s fine.” You gritted out twice, more for your benefit the second time around.

  As if to solidify a semblance of being non-combative, you held your hands up on either side of your head. A silent plea for Marko to cooperate with your simple boundaries.

  Perhaps he wasn’t entirely sorry about it, but that didn’t matter if you didn’t know it. Though with the way you tried not to glower at him, he understood, without a doubt, that you were more than aware he was only half apologetic. After all, he was fuelled by a thick smog of boredom, which only forced unease to burst from him like the flames of Hell. Nevertheless, he watched you with his widened gaze before settling on your bed once more. A couple more hours wouldn’t kill him, right?

  “Just don’t touch anything, okay? As soon as I get through the rest of this chapter, maybe we can watch a movie together.” You suggested through gritted teeth.

  An inkling of hope dawned across Marko’s features like The Gates of Heaven had opened for him. It felt like the sun was warming his ice cold flesh, the fuzzy memory from his mortal life in 1901 came to fruition in his mind. Refreshing to say the least. His back inched higher, attempting to obtain a good look at your bulky textbook.

  “How much ya got left?”

  You hummed, pondering whilst your stiff aching fingers thumbed the pages. It was an entire wad. Marko’s heart rocketed into the old floorboards under his feet, and he hung his head in existential dread. You wouldn’t even be finished by sun up.

  “About half a chapter,” you commented with hope, but to him it was all a charlatan’s sham.

  “Yeah, yeah okay…” he mumbled, cast to the cushiony abode of your bed.

  The ambience of the room settled back to the mind numbing pace of planned study sessions. His only two forms of escape were to either cast himself into a premature sleep or leave without you noticing. Both were tempting. Nevertheless, he remained there, paralysed with indecision.

  Soon misery encased him, your plush bed and messy surroundings incapable of quenching his need for attention. A sour trance gathered deep within his undead soul. Blasé eyes analysed the way that you seemed to slightly settle in your seat. The scratching of pencil on paper overcame the atmosphere like a thick infestation of utter disinterest. Though he wasn’t alluded by the fact your muscles were still taut underneath your baggy black shirt and baby blue pyjama shorts. The sight made him pity you once more, because you were slaving away.

  Suddenly a nagging urge told him to just burn all of your textbooks so he could have his damn girlfriend back!

  From his stance on the bed, he noted that complex algebra was what you were studying: The sight made his stomach twist sickly and his head throb, because with Paul rotting his brain ninety percent of the time, Marko couldn’t even recall what 2+2 equaled.

  Eventually his patience wore thin.

  “Babe, how long have you been studying?” He finally broke the long silence. A casual air to his tone.

  Marko rested his elbows upon his knees with a hunched back once he sat up; unconsciously mirroring you. Fixated on your entire being. It was almost humorous the way you seemed to sink further into your stressful work with every equation you tortured yourself to complete. The inclination both distressed and astonished him. This wasn’t like you at all. In fact, he was willing to bet that you’d been switched out by a government clone provided by the CIA with the way you were acting. You despised math!

  When was the last time you had taken a damn break? When was this ever going to end? Were you ever not going to throw ginger stuffed cats at him? God forbid if he had to endure you worrying when your exams were all said and done. If you so much as breathed a damn fear towards the notion of not passing, he was going to lose his damn mind.

  It was almost nearing the mark of an entire month since you’d made your typical appearance at the Boardwalk. An unusual occurrence in itself. It had worried him to begin with, especially since it had occurred out of the blue. No notion communicated whatsoever of your educational predicament. Marko was usually rather patient with you, however, since he hadn’t ever exactly attended school himself (or graduated for that matter), he was honestly struggling to relate to the importance of it all. Good grades and whimsical desires to attend college didn’t hold the same meaning to him as it did to you. It frankly just sounded like a damn fairytale.

  In fact, the whole ordeal just was a major waste of time to him. Afterall, he held the potent magic of immortality in the palms of his hands; brandished like the forbidden fruit that Adam himself consumed. There were sneaky tricks and enchanting gifts that he — along with every vampire — possessed. All that temptation didn’t seem to tickle your fancy in the current moment. Marko couldn’t deny the truth that if it (college) made you happy in the long run, he didn’t have the heart to cut in and stop you. He wanted you to be content at the end of the day. So long as you also cared about his happiness too. It didn’t really feel like you did — not with you pushing him away like he was some diseased fleabag.

  “Uuuuhhmmmm shit,” you began with a flourishing fluster encapsulating your countenance. You used the end of your chewed up pencil to scratch the side of your head vigorously, “I dunno, three days?” You shrugged.

  It sounded as if you were asking him for clarification, but Marko sat there just as clueless and waiting for your answer.

  To be completely transparent, that was only a guesstimate thrown to the stuffy air with no refreshing breeze to carry it away from you. You were utterly fried; all for very different reasons. Meals consisted of take-out or quick instant snacks so the remnants could be discarded easily. You went from a daily shower to one every three days; dishes had been piled up so high in your sink, because you didn’t possess the luxury known as time: All until your mother lost her mind and dove in infuriatingly to maintain downstairs her spotless domain. Completing these simple tasks designed to keep your living quarters in order were overwhelming now.

  Marko wasn’t the only one feeling the absence of your chipper presence. As just mentioned, your dutiful mother took up your chores to accomplish with disgruntled agitation, because she had limited time too. Yet no matter how much she may have resented you currently, she found some compassion for you in your final weeks as a senior highschool student. She took it with a badge of silence, but you felt that heavy churning of guilt in your gut whenever she would impulsively huff and puff through the thin walls, as well as slam cupboards shut. Nothing went unnoticed by you, but it drove you further into the disorganised abode of unrelenting chaos. You were just glad your parents were out on a weekend trip. Sweet silence was yours.

  Escaping was all you wanted to do. Yet you were bound to your desk by a hefty chain around your ankle with the belief that if you failed, you’d have let everyone around you down. There was so much pressure riding on your back that it felt unbearably hot. Scalding tears burnt the corners of your eyes and you fought to wipe them away with two quick slaps to your cheeks.

  Oh how you missed the Boardwalk desperately! Longing for the nights out with Marko where the oceanic droplets dotted your skin when you paraded down it on his metallic steed. They seemed so far away now, so out of touch that you could barely recall what it felt like to be nestled in the musty, dusty caverns where the boy’s home sat within. Those nights were always fun, riddled with a peculiar perception of time that made them feel as though they went on forever. Frankly, you missed him and his brothers. However, even though you did, you couldn’t afford to burn out. If you could just squeeze out a little more, then maybe you could manage to get through with a hair length left of energy and patience.

  Like a precariously challenging puzzle, the pieces finally clicked into place in Marko’s nifty skull. A lightbulb dinged over his head, illuminating everything around him and he saw things with virgin eyes. Once that had occurred, the relief he experienced was knocked viciously out of the way and replaced by a worry that he never had felt before. You’d always been splendid at managing yourself in a healthy manner. Balancing and pacing yourself was a natural instinct you possessed, crafted into an art during the academic year. Marko had sat back comfortably up until this point, just taking it all for granted, because you’d always been so self-reliant.

  Yet as he stared at you from across your bedroom intently, he began to take note of the little differences surrounding you both. The space was riddled with disorganisation as its main theme, messiness spread out in all of its glory. A large pile of dirty clothes lay in the left corner of your room, making him silently plead with the universe that your socks wouldn’t start crawling out towards him with a mind of their own. Your pink bed covers he was perched upon weren’t made in their usual neat style; that stupid desk you had yourself rooted in front of was clumped together in a marinade of dirty food containers, pens, pencils and papers. A giant teetering tower of jagged books to the right looked ominous and shaky to him. The trash can beside it was overflowing with a cornucopia of crumpled bits of paper that looked as if Jason himself had hacked at them with his own chainsaw! What in the hell was going on with you?

  “You shouldn’t sweat the exams, babe.” Marko stated without much of a rational thought.

  The gratuitous comment seemed to startle you to austere stillness. Similar to a cat who’d grown enraged, frightened as its fur and tail zapped with pulsing electricity. Your aura resembled the frizzy taut hairs of said feline friend; and your head whipped to the side so viciously that it struck a literal nerve, causing your vision to blur. Paying little mind to the agony of the nauseating feeling, you pressed on.

  “What!?” You seethed through tightly gritted teeth. You were a festering beast. All the chipped pieces of fragile pottery you’d held together shattered. Patience was no longer your virtue.

  Acting on impulse, Marko’s fingerless gloved hands sprang to the sides of his head once more, eyebrows raised. You really needed to chill out.

  “Damn, hear me out!” He started, a little heat behind his words.

  He was frankly pretty tired of the onslaught you shoved onto him. You were beginning to yank him into the depths of your own anguish. He never swung that way initially, but you were spoiling his night that had started off perfectly fine, thank you very much.

  “All that I meant by that was you’re the smartest person I know, babe. You’ve passed everything so far. There’s no way you’re failin’ anything!” His words had intended to diffuse the bomb he’d set up from his previous comment.

  Reassurance was what you needed right? Wrong. It only seemed to spread the shrapnel and vibrant inferno swirling violently within you. A snort dispelled,, forcing you to drop your pencil on your notebook. Disbelief rattled your expression, the fuse to a TNT’s detonator had been slammed down staunchly and rage encompassed you over the smallest of things.

  “Yeah, like you know what it’s like to have all this pressure on your shoulders. You just bum around the Cave like you’re a damn king without a care in the world! The most you have to worry about is whether you get David the right kind of take-out when Michael’s lazing on the bed next to Star!”

  The words were haughty, sturdy ammunition pelting Marko to a mushy pulp. The worst part was that you’d turned your back on him when you’d said it. Honing in on your unreasonable point. The world didn’t just revolve around you, you know.

  There was a flicker of irritation that blossomed like a breathtakingly fiery rose in his chest. Hot electricity pulsed his eyes alight, though as soon as the burning rage had appeared, Marko settled it with a deep breath. Right, you were his girlfriend, he couldn’t kill you like some blundering drunk Surf Nazi. No matter how much of a raging bitch you were being right now.

  A few minutes sauntered by, a tense silence stretching with its thick tendrils that imbedded themselves in your throat. Realisation hit you square in the chest and you dug the heels of your hands into your sore, closed eyes harshly at the thought of how stupid you were being.

  “Shit! I’m so sorry.” There was a denseness to your tone, shame blanketing it like a sugar coated donut. If only it felt as sweet.

  “Nah, don’t sweat it, babes!” Marko released with a heavy sigh, a passive manner taking over him. It wasn’t hard to do.

  Afterall, the anger had been shaken out of every dead cell in his body. He lifted a cool hand, his fingers burying in his blond licks and pushing them out of his eyes, a simple motion that soothed him slightly.

  “No, it’s not not!” You sighed out, tipping your head back in your wooden chair till it teetered a bit. You stared dreadfully up at the ceiling with bitter contempt. “I hate this! I hate all of this studying. If I look at one more number I’m gonna commit arson on the school so I don’t have to take my exam on Monday morning!”

  “You know that can be arranged for you with the help of Paul and I? ” Marko grinned at you, the prospect of putting all this incessant studying to a grand halt really tickled his fancy; whether you were being serious or not.

  “Not funny!”

  “What? You wouldn’t be connected. Scouts honour, babes.”

  Though from the expression you were giving him, Marko was certain that attempting to pull jokes with you so soon wasn’t in anyone’s best interests just yet. Not when you were wound up so tight. However there was the beginning of a smile working on the edges of your beautiful lips. It settled the tension a little.

  “There’s my girl!” He replied proudly, patting his gloved hands on the thighs of his jeans habitually.

  Suddenly another lightbulb moment zinged its fluorescent rays above his head. Jackpot! He knew exactly what you needed to relax. He did, afterall, have magical hands that were perfect for massaging. A little TLC and you’d be well oiled enough to snuggle with him as you both watched a movie. Just a little loving was all he wanted — he missed you.

  Like a golden sleek mountain lion with prey locked in its predatory gaze, Marko crept stealthily towards you on surprisingly light feet with his paws out. Ready for the kill. Those icy digits were immediately welcomed by your clammy hot skin, and your affliction seemed to melt away in the heat of the humid air. This was precisely the reaction Marko had imagined in his wondrously gruesome noggin.

  To begin with, you seemed tense at the idea of his touch gone foreign from the lack of his familiar presence. Frustration mixed with guilt at your own pitiful past actions as a girlfriend. The stress was making you crack on so many levels. His touch was comforting despite the fact your shoulders made a subtle attempt at shaking him off. Yet he had a firm hold on you — certainly not enough to cause harm. What didn’t he understand about this entire ordeal? This was extremely important to you. His candid words rung in your ears, a gong gone off to begin the journey of relaxation and release of pent up frustrations.

  “You gotta take a break. Even just for five minutes.” He echoed your already persuaded thoughts. A wispy coo, hypnotic in nature.

  You were incapable of resistance to his powerful abilities he reserved specifically for times such as these. Sure he wasn’t David, but Marko knew how to pull someone as stubborn as you into his lane, wrestling them into a relaxed submission of chill time. Damn him and his undead powers!

  His fingers were possessed by black magic — working at the sore, aching muscles that had become strained by impeccably poor posture and a lack of necessary exercise. You lacked both the hefty bark and bite to fight him, it had disappeared with the energy and motivation to engage in anyone or anything other than what was currently going on in the present moment. Temptation wanted you to reap the rewards of Marko’s skilful ministrations. You swiftly ushered into the realm of utter selfishness, leaning into his touch wantonly the moment his pesky long appendages massaged down your shoulders in a taut yet tender fashion. A wince escaped your lips once he worked on a specific knot. You stirred and twitched in the seat like it had become unbearably hot.

  With your face bunched up, a moan entailing slight anguish fluttered past your lips, Marko eased up on said spot, focusing on another area.

  “Atta girl,” He grinned, “Relax…” an angelic whisper crept into your ear.

  He sounded hypnotic, binding you under his blissful spell of ease. Though it was that specific spot in your sore muscles that caused you irritation. Marko left it happily because he’d worked the majority of it out. Now his long, thin fingers padded at the balls of your shoulders, solace in nature before returning up the valley of your neck for the second time. He simpered subconsciously to himself in a victorious fashion the moment you went completely lax under his touch. A pleasurable surrender to his beck and call. Your arms went limp, resembling the feeling and look of overcooked spaghetti. The rear of the chair and Marko’s light, yet secure grip on you were the only two things that kept you upright. There was an immature smugness to his motions that you could practically feel engraved into you.

  “You like that?” There was audacity for him to whisper it against the soft shell of your ear. Such a seductive note.

  Your response came to him through another throaty groan of approval and a swift, gentle nod of your head. So subtle that for a moment, he wondered if he’d dreamt up the consensual physical action entirely.

  Mischief purchased him, a long lost friend. Sharp teeth nicked the delicate flesh of your earlobe, mouth finding a mind of their own to trail down the side of your neck. The feverish pulsepoint he’d grown to know well was peppered in an onslaught — each kiss and nip purposeful. Melting like the ice caps into his touch, the Devil suddenly pulled away after taking a step back. Your back was held up by the chair entirely. A pout formed your precious mouth, head tilted towards him. Your half hooded eyes unveiled a cheeky sight indeed: He was smirking with that Cheshire grin he was so renowned for. Not to mention that he’d propped himself like royalty on the edge of the bed, his head cocked to the side in amusement.

  “What? You want more?” An arrogance wafted from him, sent on the hot summer breeze.

  He knew you were hooked by the way you turned in your chair to finally acknowledge him fully. “Then c’mere.” He said simply, patting his lap.

  Rising from your chair was methodical. Lots of attention had to be put into moving your stiff limbs almost gone numb from being in the same position for god knows how long. Yet you padded over to your awaiting throne, straddling his waist boldly. Hands floated to your hips, squeezing them longingly, and as if bound under his hypnotic spell from earlier, you found his lips in a mixture of rushed passion and want. Marko was cool, hanging back and letting you explore the excitement you’d been starving for for weeks. He was just happy to go along for the ride, seeing where it took you both. This wasn’t so much about him as it was about you.

  Your tongue intruded his mouth, a sudden willingness to become as close to him as physically possible. He beckoned beneath you, chest tightening with the giddiness that felt oh so good to experience. Teeth nipped at your lower lip, a yearning to eventually get at the crimson liquid buried beneath your thin, delicate skin was intricate but controlled. Taunting and malicious hands wandered, pushing beneath fabric to clutch at the supple flesh of your breasts. You pulled apart for a breath, a gasp of alluring surprise fluttering from your mouth. Marko chuckled against the flesh of your delicate throat — not missing the sultry glow having engulfed you. It now permeated towards him. Frustration could be played out in more than one way, which he was happy to do.

  The black tee you’d been sporting came over your head in a single tug, cast to the floor with his mix-matched jacket and crop top. He admired the rise and fall of your bare breasts, highlighted in the moonlight — embarrassing you in the way he deemed was the cutest. Yet he made no move towards influencing your next moves. Instead the icy tips of his fingers tickled up your sides, ghosted along your spine to entice goosebumps. Your gaze settled on his beautiful flesh , fair and adorned with muscles beneath his strong skin. He made your mouth water, the washboard abs and the strength that came from him in more than just the physical aspect set you on fire. Your staring amused him. Were you still too shy to touch despite this having happened in times gone by? He was all yours. There was no need for meaningless delays. The inevitable was bound to occur. You might as well just meet him in the middle.

  Your warm fingertips settled upon his sturdy chest whilst you mounted him. A delicious expression of your needs being met flashed across your angelic features, but your lips twisted into such a devilish smirk. Some would title you as a promiscuous nymph, tantalisingly rocking your hips back and forth — creating much needed friction. Marko’s fingers smoothed up your sides, his own breath flustered out of his lungs. Yet he just watched you, hazel eyes deepening from the dilation of his pupils. A hunter was being fed under your seductive spell. Such a horny, pretty thing you were, rutting against him like a desperate bitch in heat. It caused amusement to tickle his senses, because he knew this wouldn’t suffice enough of your needs. Witnessed it dawn frustratingly upon your countenance. You needed more. You wanted more.

  “Atta girl.” He winked, grinning impishly up at you. A seductive golden halo flowed from his head as he laid there admiring you.

  Before long, his patience wore thin. His back arched upwards then, lips trailing along the swell of your sensitive breasts. They glistened deliciously with sweat in the moonlight, inviting his tongue to taste the salty liquid. You sighed, hips faltering, thwarting your efforts to get off. A pathetic whimper of dissatisfaction escaped you, rumbling in your chest. He felt it against his sinful tongue, sucking sweet little marks into your skin. And silently, his fingers hooked into the waistband of your shorts and panties, tugging down gently. You manuevred yourself over him, eager to get any remaining clothes off and have him take control. You never knew what to expect with him, which was all the more exciting. Yet all he did was clasp his lips around your right nipple, suckling on it firmly, though not enough to hurt. His teeth nipped at it, tugging ever so slightly in the way you always approved — all whilst  he stared up at you. Man was he a tease.

  As soon as it had started, the pleasure ceased. Gone in the blink of an eye. You stared down at your boyfriend, your hips twirling in rebellion. Already you were quivering, at his mercy whilst your fingers tangled in his beautifully curly locks.

  “What?” He inquired with an innocent tilt to his head.

  Distinct symptoms of embarrassment clouded your features — your skin felt hot. The only thing you could do was nip your swollen bottom lip and draw your eyebrows together in the centre. So cute. Why was he doing this? It was simple, he wanted to.

  “Hmmm? Use your big girl words, baby.” He added with a breathy laugh meant to mock you. His large palms smoothed against the softest parts of your body reassuringly.

  You gulped, throat dry and hoarse. Your hips rutted on his hardened cock concealed beneath the rough denim. It’s roughness dampened by your sopping cunt. You whimpered as he guided your hips, looking hungrier than ever. Silently pleading for him to touch you the way you loved it the most. However, he did not play into these silent games. You knew that, but it was always worth a try. Sometimes he was forgiving and lenient. Tonight he seemed to be holding back, admiring your handiwork until you begged him with delirium to give you what you wanted.

  “I can’t give you what you want if you don’t tell me. Hmm?” He cooed up at you.

  “I want more,” you began pitifully, eyes unable to meet his heavy gaze.

  “More of what?” He was milking this, enjoying the way you twitched.

  “More of you.” As if that could answer his blatantly insistent inquiry. Yet before he could open his mouth to prod further, you’d beaten him to the punch, “I want your mouth.”

  A diabolical sexy grin spread across his face. Sharp pearly whites glinted in the argent glow menacingly, but only for show. To intimidate you into the correct position. The air in your lungs caught in your throat at the sight, forcing you to shiver. He was going to force you into helplessness with your limbs unable to hold you up afterwards, all accompanied with a mushy mind with him at the centre of it. Duties and resilient responsibilities were a thing of the past. Well, at least for tonight. What you were asking him for was something he was more than qualified to provide. A god-like tongue that made your head spin in a volatile tornado and your thighs squeeze deliciously around his head. The thought began thawing out the embarrassment coiled in your gut and latched into your flesh like barbed coils. Marko managed to pull them out effortlessly and painlessly. Thus, fueled by a fire in his own belly, he flipped you over at the flick of a finger. The cool sheets beneath you were welcomed because of the clammy air. The wind momentarily knocked out of you due to a lustre of giddiness. You laid there, breathless and bothered, watching him slither down your body like a ravenous serpent. Attentive nips and open mouthed kisses pressed along the way. You sighed with contentment, legs parting to fit him between them.

  Gazes locked, he pressed your legs up towards your chest, spreading you open for him. There was little you could do to hide from him. His strong palms prevented such a shameful sin, the tips of his blunt nails digging into the supple backs of your thighs. The sting welcomed by you. Vulnerability was nowhere to be found — not even in your fuzzy brain. He liked it better that way. You were entirely enthralled by impulses and senses. The events of earlier ancient history he didn’t want to revisit any time soon. Wanton desire encompassed you. He’d incinerated all feelings of abashment from your being. You were tainted with a bold desperation. A one track mind that only Marko could read and satisfy.

 “Just relax…” He breathed against the tender skin of your inner thigh. You could entrust him with this.

  When he dove in, he had the enthusiasm of a starved man. The tip of his wet flickering appendage swiped your folds. Once, twice and a third time. On and on it went. The taste of you was salty yet sweet, the perfect addictive combination. You were perfect underneath him, letting his pretty gratified tongue serve blessings upon your clit. Faster and faster he adored you, suckling and nipping upon your sensitive bundle of nerves at the right intervals. It was all so perfect. Driving you further and further up the edge. You squealed under his onslaught, chest rising and falling as if possessed. Your limbs shook, eyes rolling into the rear of your frazzled skull. Yeah, you’d finally escaped. All of your inconsequential concerns fled from your body whilst you pushed Marko further into your sex. It was pathetic as you wantonly moaned his name, a repetitive mantra. So pitiful in fact that your hips rocked against his tongue, the tip of his nose catching your clit. Marko was just happy to drown in you. Your sticky essence dripping down his chin. All he could do was lap up what you offered, and none of it went to waste.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuuuuck!” You heaved into the clammy air, your eyes bleary by now.

  Just one more stripe and he was going to ruin you.

  You tumbled from heaven, rocketing down to Earth. Your descent imploring delirium. The ability to quit shaking was nowhere to be found. There was Marko, parting from your folds in a sticky and panting mess. His predator instincts lit aflame like a match in the dark, all because of your erratic heartbeat that had been palpitating under his skillful onslaught. You smelled so superbly delicious it made him delirious, rough hands settled on either side of your head to trap you in the cage he put you in. His glowing yellow eyes and slightly warbled features should have terrified you, yet they did not. You felt a love for the monster that mirrored your feelings in his own, demonic entirety. Your fingers were lazy, ghosting the tips upon his protruded brow bone. Despite his monstrosity, his features morphed back to that of a human’s with your enduring patience. A glow remaining in his perky eyes — an ardent aura surrounded the beast. Calloused fingers smoothed away the stray hairs to your face uncomfortably with sweat. Couldn’t stop the grin that came about from you looking so lost in your thoughts. You were fucked out already and he’d barely even begun. He decided then that he could’ve stared at you like this forever, because not a thought outside of him remained in your head. That’s what he appreciated the most. No competitions, just you and him. That’s all that was yearned for.

  Lips crashed together, though your fight for dominance was easily overthrown by Marko, his pesky fingers pinching and pulling on your nipples. He rolled them between his fingers. A surge of gratitude took over you, hummed right into his mouth. Teeth gnashed together, it was heated, fueled by an endless amount of passion. Oh you were driving him crazy. Your hands fiercely clutched onto his strong shoulders, nails digging into the soft cool flesh of them. You were lost fully in the reality of ecstasy. Disoriented from the notion that once you started, you didn’t want it to stop. He was the incubus that tainted you, and he too could not stop himself from damning you once again. He’d yank you straight into hell with him. You were all his.

  So his palms were strong, scrunching up the bedsheets beside your head, catching the strands of your hair within its hold. It stung, leading a pleasant hiss from you and into his mouth. Your own fingers pinging the button of his jeans before dipping into the waistband of his boxers. His lips broke apart, teeth nipping your bottom lip almost hard enough to draw blood. Yes, you were a promiscuous nymph, working him further and further until precum leaked languidly from the tip, trickling and spilling onto your knuckles. The impish smirk you gave him sealed the deal.

  “Not yet,” he whispered against your ear, a breathy chuckle expelled when you continued. “This is about you, baby. I can’t do that if I’ve busted all over you.” He grinned.

  He did have a fair point. Off the remainder of his clothes went. Now no barriers remain between the pair of you. Naked and vulnerable in an iridescent glow from the moon.

  In typical fashion of your boyfriend, he possessed an impatient roughness to him. A single hand manoeuvred your legs apart, one hiked upon his awaiting forearm and the other snug around his hip. In one swell tug down, you were spread open for him, the tip of his glistening cock pressed into your soaked folds. The minimal friction had invited your hips to buck up rebelliously. Yet the beast watched you with heavy eyes, watching the mouthwatering way he sunk barely into your cute little hole. It was enough for his senses to snap entirely. The second he pushed in fully, a grunt tumbled out and against the shell of your ear. The size of him filled you up in a way that you never thought was imaginable. The intrusion was sudden but smooth, forcing you to whimper and tuck your face into his shoulder. Your legs twitched, tensed whilst your palms instinctively reached out to press themselves against his lower abdomen. You protested, softly pushing back and he obliged, but only to sink back in slowly.

  Yet a sweetness prevailed, his mouth whispering encouragingly into your ear, “That’s it, babygirl. You take me so good.”

  The praise led to your hands smoothing up his rippled abdomen, appreciating the body that belonged to a Greek God. Closer he leaned into you, your body relaxing from the sudden intrusion he’d worked in and out of you with a gentle rocking of his hips. All of it pulled that wolfish simper from your breathless boyfriend. Your hips had a mind of their own, twitching to meet his abundantly stuttering hips in the middle. A dull ache blossomed and pulsed in your hot cunt. You wanted him so badly that it hurt. He pined for you just as violently, enough to pull back swiftly and snap his hips roughly into you. Any semblance of patience eradicated at the weathering fray in the string, crashing over into a dominant nature he was renowned for. You were all too obedient and joyous to follow. The intrusion into your cervix was unexpected, drawing out a wanton cry from your parched throat. His movements were deliberate, gaze darkening substantially in the shade of luscious ecstasy. Every cell in both of your bodies bursting to life whilst Marko did all of the work.

  “M-Marko!” You stammered and gasped. Nothing but a pathetic whimper against the edge of his mouth.

  Your foreheads were pressed together lovingly, hazel eyes finding your watery gaze easily. Tears pricked the corners. The pleasure curling you into his body.

  At this rate, if he kept up his onslaught of devotion, you’d be a mess all over again; shuddering and sighing underneath him in a pitiful fashion. It was his favourite. Watching you crumble under everything he offered you, and by god would he offer you absolutely everything. The mere thought tempting him into overdrive with his impeccable stamina and strength. You could hardly keep up.

  Yet with all of his rough ministrations and hungry motivations, there was a loving twitch to his lips — an extra devotion in the roll and smack each thrust brought. The tip of him hammering home on the delicate spot inside of you. Witnessing what each pull and push built up inside of you. It was perfect, feeling you cream all over him thickly. Your perfect moans and hazy eyes only made him love you more.

  The only response you’d acquired was a grunt gritted between clenched teeth and panting breaths. His calloused digits feathered into your hair, gathering it into his fist. Nothing about him relented. He could tell by your half lidded eyes that you were nearly there. Expression consumed by an ample amount of bliss. It seeped into the air, boasting an array of vibrant hormones and scents. You were bewitching him with your morality, your head toppling back when he tugged on your hair firmly. The notion only forced him to grow more sporadic. Your content mewls of mercy morphing into the sweaty, salty air. His cool skin warmed by yours alone. Yet deep inside, even you knew that you didn’t possess a desire for him to stop. You wanted this. Wanted it more than you had any other time, because you’d stupidly starved yourself of most of your needs.

  Toppling over the edge didn’t seem too far away. You could feel every inch of yourself under the mercy of your painfully vampiric boyfriend. He nurtured you into a quaking mess with his ragged edges, but it was all so utterly perfect. Your throbbing heart thrummed against your rib cage painfully, warping Marko’s features for a second time that night. Though it remained hidden within the cosy crook of your beautiful neck. Each pounding beat synching with his sinful thrusts until everything felt like a hot and heavy blur. Higher and higher you went, rising into cloud nine. He followed behind you, your scent driving him to weakness. He was dizzy, fingers grappling upon your flesh; grasping what he could to both pleasure you and steady himself. Your hands held onto his shoulders, fingers slithering up into his damp curly mullet. Over and over he went, but you held on.

  “Let go, babygirl…” he whispered in a strained husky fashion against your sweaty skin.

  His elongated teeth grazed the palpitating vein of your sweet spot. They glinted threateningly unbeknownst to you.

  A temptation too reckless overcame him. The ruby rushing rivers beneath the surface of fragile skin spoke to him. Sung seductively into his soulless chest. It’s sweet nectar coaxed him in until said sharp teeth grazed a little too harshly. One drop was enough for his tongue to burst to life. Inducing him to suck on the wound. A harsher one warranted more blood to ooze out, and thus you yelped in protest. Though now too delirious to feel much else than the driving force that brought you literally on the edge of your second orgasm of the night. He could barely stop himself, the edge pulling his hips more violently into that back and forth motion — just as harsh but clouded with sloppiness. All until you both spilled over the edge of the cup.

  It was a viral shock, numbing your body into intense bliss. A chorus of heightened groans poured from your mouth. Quaking limbs wrapped around his rocking body, pushing his spilled seed further into your womb. A long, husky groan buried itself into your neck — forcing his brief blood drinking to come to a halt. A heavy ’o’ shape formed your lips, throat hoarse from your incessant whimpers. The crash back down to hell was something in itself. Just as intense whilst you both hurtled, twitched and panted down in the fiery centre of the earth. Both of you left joined together from sensitivity. Gazes locked together with a dopey satisfaction. You watched his mischievous grin on his features, gone slightly pink from your blood. Your boyfriend was high on your blood — no doubt because it felt akin to taking a hit of crack. Yet you remained jelly legged, arms unable to move and your mind fuzzy. You were relaxed as he pulled out, admiring his seed trickling from you before he prized his clean crop top from your floor to clean you up.

  “You… bit me,” you pouted up at him.

  Your own pair of heavy fingertips inspected the small, messy series of puncture wounds engraved into your neck. A form of marking Marko was infamous for implementing. It stung so you winced.

  “My bad.” Was all he grinned out in a lopsided fashion.

  But it wasn’t an apology. He’d never apologised for such an act — not even in his controlled feeding on you. You were his and he was yours. Maybe he was a little too possessive. Nevermind, because the post orgasm glow only invited him in on shaky forearms. The tip of his nose skimmed your collarbone, inhaling your luxurious scent. His tongue poked out, lapping up the rich droplets you offered him of no fault of your own. It tasted sweet, yet decadent, almost like spiced mulled wine. The coolness of his appendage felt relieving against the hotness of your skin.

  “Thank you,” you mumbled sleepily, fingernails softly dragging against his scalp to hone in on the appreciation that swarmed you.

  Your gratitude was humorous. It made him chuckle as he pulled back, towering over your fully relaxed body. He tilted his head, “For fucking your brains out?”

  “Mhmmmm!” You nodded, adamant.

  More laughter propelled from his mouth, because Marko was not quite sure how else to respond. You’d never thanked him for such a thing before, and it was a warrant for teasing that’s for sure. Still, it made his still heart swell a thousand times in size, mimicking the distant feeling of a pulse of his heart. His silent lips pressed ardent kisses to the wound on your neck, running his tongue over the wound only to watch it magically heal somewhat. Then his mouth travelled to your ear, just to hear your soft giggle in time, sleepily stirring beneath him.

  “I love you, baby.” A smile evident against the shell of your ear.

  “Love you too…” you sighed with your own mirrored grin, all dopey from exhaustion.

  The tug of sleep won and you plummeted into the blackness your closed eyelids entailed. It was a warm welcome after weeks of choppy and restless sleep from rampant anxiety. Marko laid there beside you, his fingers hovering over your tired muscles to clean you up and smooth ardent circles into sore patches of skin from his rough handling. An arm of his draped underneath your head as you silently curled into him. Your relaxed breaths tickled the nape of his dewy neck. The dilemma was averted and now he had you back. A few hours was all he could spare before he’d be forced to bid you farewell. The need for the dank darkness of the cave would call to him before sunrise. Yet for now he admired your tranquility with a laboured inhale and exhale. He pulled the covers over you both, hoping that your relaxation would remain until the following night. He’d sweep you away from your work and into the exhilarating arms of a good time. Thundering down the Boardwalk and harbour, perched on the back of his metallic steed. The pair of you damned, left to unleash your sly delightful terror upon Santa Carla. Yes, your absence had been so missed by your boyfriend as he stared up at your ceiling with satisfaction.

  “Crisis averted.”

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ: 　　 :･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ✧

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#marko #marko imagines #marko headcanons #marko smut #marko x reader #the lost boys #the lost boys marko #the lost boys 1987 #the lost boys 1987 imagines #the lost boys 1987 headcanons #the lost boys 1987 x reader #the lost boys 1987 smut #the lost boys 1987 marko #the lost boys 1987 marko imagines #the lost boys 1987 marko headcanons #the lost boys 1987 marko x reader #the lost boys 1987 marko smut #hope you enjoyed it <333

[midnight-talescape]

𝑀𝒶𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓇𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉

｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡+☆+｡･ﾟ･｡

Not me having to do this twice because tumblr ate the first one

The single character are just the only character I will write for in their fandom because I only find them attractive (no I don't take question for my choice) But feel free to convince me otherwise with nice prompt

𝒟𝓇𝒶𝑔𝑜𝓃 𝐵𝒶𝓁𝓁

The Tyrant and His Pet (Yandere Frieza x Reader)

^ art to go with that story I said no oc but im also a hypocrite

Mine (Yandere King Cold x Adopted Reader) <- I will fuck his entire family excluding chill who look like a purple and orange dildo and kuriza whos a literal child

𝐵𝓁𝒶𝒸𝓀 𝐵𝓊𝓉𝓁𝑒𝓇

Contract (Alpha Sebastian x Omega Reader) I want a demon buler

𝒫𝑜𝓀𝑒𝓂𝑜𝓃 (𝐼’𝓂 𝓃𝑜𝓉 𝑒𝓍𝓅𝓁𝒶𝒾𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔 𝒶𝓃𝓎𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓃𝑔)

Trainer and Pokémon are both okay (final evolution and grown up only)

Rage (Yandere Human Gyarados x Reader) no thought mind blank

Sacrifice (Yandere Human Volcarona x Reader) why did i write lava cum

Forbidden (Yandere Greninja x Reader) i will always love forbidden ninja love

Mate (Serperior x Reader) favorite starter no regret

Virus (Various Pokémon x Reader) no comment

Worship (Arceus x Reader) go big or go home

Fire (Arcanine x Reader) dog

𝐼𝓃𝓊𝓎𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒶

Heat (Sesshomaru x Half Demon Reader) <- first anime crush

𝒟𝒮𝑀𝒫 (𝒞! 𝒪𝓃𝓁𝓎)

I’m here (C!Philza x Cat Hybrid Reader) Im so fucking sorry

𝒜𝓈𝓈𝒶𝓈𝓈𝒾𝓃𝒶𝓉𝒾𝑜𝓃 𝒞𝓁𝒶𝓈𝓈𝓇𝑜𝑜𝓂 (𝐸𝓋𝑒𝓇𝓎𝑜𝓃𝑒’𝓈 𝑔𝑜𝓃𝓃𝒶 𝒷𝑒 𝒶 𝒶𝒹𝓊𝓁𝓉)

Prey (Koro Sensei x Reader) Adult need special care

𝒪𝓃𝓂𝓎𝑜𝒿𝒾

Treasure (Yandere Tamamo no Mae x Reader) fluffy tails

𝒟𝒞

Criminal (Yandere Batman x Criminal Reader) I might have a type

Taboo (Brother Batman x Sister Reader) i was so fucking excited for this ;-;

𝐻𝒶𝓇𝓇𝓎 𝒫𝑜𝓉𝓉𝑒𝓇 (𝒜𝓁𝓁 𝒶𝑔𝑒 𝓊𝓅)

Purpose (Lucius Malfoy x Reader) I have some daddy issue

𝐻𝒶𝓏𝒷𝒾𝓃 𝐻𝑜𝓉𝑒𝓁 + 𝐻𝑒𝓁𝓁𝓊𝓋𝒶 𝐵𝑜𝓈𝓈

Deal (Alastor x Reader) not me remembering Alastor doesn't brush his teeth

Lust (Asmodeus x Succubus Reader) I love mister rooster guy

𝒞𝑜𝑜𝓀𝒾𝑒 𝑅𝓊𝓃 𝒦𝒾𝓃𝑔𝒹𝑜𝓂 (𝓈𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽𝒽)

Cookie & Cream (Yandere Dark Cacao x Reader x Yandere Pure Vanilla) It's definitely call cream, I don't take argument

𝑀𝒾𝑔𝓊𝑒𝓁 𝒪’𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶 (𝒴𝑒𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝓂𝒶𝓃 𝑔𝑒𝓉 𝒽𝒾𝓈 𝑜𝓌𝓃 𝒸𝑜𝓁𝓊𝓂𝓃)

Princesa (Miguel O’hara x Reader) I love writing hate sex

Needs (Alpha Miguel O’hara x Beta Reader) I want this man to do so many illegal shit to me

Washing Machine (Miguel O’hara x Reader) help me stepbro

Needs and Wants (Omega Miguel O’hara x Beta Reader) this man has so many things that can do so many things to me

Protection (Bodyguard Miguel O’hara x Reader) I will pay big money for this man

Aphrodisiac (Miguel O’hara x Reader) he totally gaslighted you lol

Good Boy (Hybrid Miguel O’hara x Reader) the title has little to no correlation with the story

Mi Diosa (War God Miguel O’hara x Reader) The amount of Miguel i’m writing is getting ridiculous

Secret (Best Friend Miguel O’hara x Hero Reader) I want miguel so badly

Villain (Yandere Villain Miguel O’hara x Hero Reader) I need to remember this is a smut

Hatred (Various Miguel x Reader) i love angst

Killer (Ghostface Miguel O’hara x Shy (?) Reader) very thin line between shy and psychopathic

Little Spider (Stepdad Miguel O’hara x Reader) stepdad miguel lets goooooo

𝒥𝓊𝒿𝓊𝓉𝓈𝓊 𝒦𝒶𝒾𝓈𝑒𝓃

Leash (Wolf Toji x Reader) Bark bark

Master and Slave (Toji x Reader) No thought want Toji to [bleep] me

Discipline (Proffesor Nanami x Student Reader) Look at this beautiful mature responsible man

Liar (Sukuna x Reader) I think regular people will die if they fuck him

𝒮𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓁𝑒 𝒞𝒽𝒶𝓇𝒶𝒸𝓉𝑒𝓇

Jealousy (Ice Bear x Reader) *insert How bad can I be

Despise (John Wick x Reader) <- this is favorite will recommand

Wine (Thranduil x Reader) Im into some freaky shit

Game (707 x Reader) My beloved

Love (Yandere Kururu x Reader) I dont know why I love him I just do

Captain (Levi x Reader) You can break my neck

Pet (Slenderman x Reader) daddy long leg

𝒫𝓇𝑜𝓂𝓅𝓉

Pearls (Yandere Sea Monster x Mermaid Reader) I had to cut it because I was dragging it on for too long

Intertwine (Genderbend Parallel (?) x Reader) its just a little weird okay

Don't Leave (Yandere Dragon x Reader) Dragon, my love

Obsession (Yandere Wolf x Reader) I have no thought just head hurt, also want a wolf. Doesn't have to be a man just a wolf

[weird-bookworm]

ᴍᴏᴏᴛꜱ

@silversailormoan - we actually started gossiping on ao3 in the comment section of one of her works 💀 she always has something funny to say and it really makes my day 😂 we haven't been interacting much lately, but one of the best people ever 💜

@yrhome (elle) - still surprised she followed me back tbh, was not expecting that. i haven't really interacted with her (yet, hopefully) but definitely one of the best txtenha writers on here 💕

@maeleelee (mae) - the prettiest, most lovable, very brave and the most chaotic person ever!! she makes me feel so soft and warm and loved 🥺 and her sense of humour is top class 🤌🏻 i'm really grateful she decided to message me randomly because i can't bear the thought of not knowing her ❤️

@imagine-a-life-like-this (cassi) - where do i even start? one of the first people i followed on here, the reason i'm obsessed with fake texts, and one of the sweetest souls alive 💖 she's so warm and always so funny and so so talented 😭

@mxnsxngie (kayla) - me and my awkward ass has no words tbh 😅 she's just really comforting, yknow? like, she'll listen if i randomly rant and reassure and encourage me and that's just so 🥺💕 she gives me fairy vibes— pretty, glittery, and lowkey fascinating ✨

@ylliris-hanniehae (ylli) - finally someone who's my age!! she's become a close friend very quickly and she's very sweet 🥺 i've been seeing her randomly drop in people's inbox's just asking about their day and it makes me so happy 💕so lovely and so kind 🥺 i'm glad she approached me 😅

@fairyhaos (yena) - impeccable sense of humour? check! really really efficient? check! one of the amazing people i know here? check! one of THE best svt writers? check check check! i just really love them and their work 💕 their sweetness gives me diabetes and i'm glad i have a chance to get to know them better 😚

@idubiluv (arya) - you know when you start talking to a person for the first time as if you've known them forever? yeah, that's her 🥺💕 she's such a ray of sunshine, a real bubble of joy which pops with rainbows and smiles (thanks for dming out of nowhere 😆)

@the-therapist-needs-therapy (haru) - literally so sweet omg??? we're going to be fast friends, i just know it 💕 and her writing omfg 😭 all i remember is writing the cringiest shit at her age so she's just really impressive y'know? 😍

@babyboyquokka (jess) - we've conversed a total of 2 times 😭 and she's already been so sweet 😭 hope i'll get to know her better soon!!

@cadenonlinelive (caden) - i think i know cco and ccl caden better atp honestly 😅 we're moots already so here's to hoping we'll get to talking soon ✌🏻

@slytherinshua (zanna) - see. now her? she's amazing. her writing is absolutely fire, she has the sweetest most chaotic personality, she writes for way too many fandoms (she's crazy and she knows it 😃) and is literally the most welcoming (?) person ever 🥺

@icyminghao (noelle) - current mission: get to know noelle better!! ✨

@ryuwonieebae (ryuwon) - adding another moot to the i-don't-really-know-them-properly-yet list lolol 😅

@rubywonu (nia) - HELLO? EXCUSE ME? WHEN DID SHE FOLLOW ME BACK THIS IS PRACTICALLY AN INVITE TO BE FRIENDS 😳

@mesanthropi (weiss) - i need a thorough look inside xir brain and a green sign to be xir friend (the strangest person i know in the best way possible ✨ keep twinkling my love)

@wheeboo (rania) - omg the sweetest cutest squishiest boo stan ever like i just wanna wrap her in a hug don't ask me why idk this is very random but i just really love her okay? 🥺

@hanniehaee (milani) - imma be honest, she showed up out of nowhere and just gave me so much love in such a short time that i fell Hard lmao 🤩

@aaniag (aania) - fellow indian carat who has been showering me with so much love and so much support, thank you so so much 💕

@woozvc (nora) - i never realised we're moots...btw nora this is me telling you i am stupid and you're gonna have to deal with my stupid ass, thank you!

@yeonjuns-redhair (hannie) - SDFGHJKL SUCH AN ICON?? please she's so fucking funny and we're so weirdly similar like man i love her 😭💕

@welcometomyoasis (shu) - ...will you forgive me if i tell you it took me this long to realise that we're moots and you're not just a very nice person i was following? 😅 BUT TYSM FOR ALL THE SUPPORT FR ILY 💕

@springdayysworld (kuhu) - she's been here for a couple months now but i can tag her because her blog Finally looks decent (curtsey to moi) 😌 she's my best friend and the one person who never fails to annoy me every. single. day. i love you, you bitch ❤️ (she's an irl for anyone's whos wondering 😭)

@mirxzii (roxie) - i'm hoping to get to know her better, because all i know rn is that she's a great singer ✨

@blue-jisungs (axe) - BRO SHE'S SO FREAKIN FUNNY LIKE???? full of chaos and sass and the inherent inability to be mean, axe is so full of love and boomer-ness 🤭 and now i can say that i am moots with THE axe heheh

@haecien (cien) - bro listen. this guy? right here? i like them. he's cool and very much in love with the same men i'm in love with 😍 also their smaus are fire so 😩

@aakomii (ari) - i. malfunctioned when i saw the follow notif. i'm not kidding. i just sat there staring at it for 5 minutes. LET'S BE FRIENDS SOON !!

@etherealyoungk (skye) - life is now complete 😌 THE skye is officially now my moot and i can only tell her how much of a mistake that is because i am SO annoying and while i feel like you have endless amounts of patience, uhm, uh, hehe, good luck 😃

@glosskirt (gloss) - my sister from another mother, my fellow yoongi simp, i hope we always reign with chaos and spice 🤌🏻👹

@candewlsy (mizu) - BRO WHY R U A WHOLE ASS MOOD like the jungwon obsession is too fucking real 😩 also the memes 👹 the Memes™ ✨ teach me your ways!

@kkooongie (sarah) - ah, yes, another desi moot (am i...am i a magnet? 😃 IM NOT COMPLAINING THO) ur fr the only person i've discussed my book interests with and it's been heaven lol 💕

@iwas-tooru (noya) - bbg idk why i'm adding you here but i've added kuhu so...ANYWAY this is my irl koala and my fellow gay simper 💕✨

@liveyun (yun) - when maturity meets chaos meets talent meets a shared love for bts = yun ✨

@thepoopdokyeomtouched (aznik) - another desi moot for y'all, aznik is a walking talking meme who is in love with music (and has fire choices 👀) and has a mastery in flirting because i saw you for the first time flirting with yena on main lmao 😭

@mangocustard16 (mango) - we're still getting to know each other but dayum your writing is 🔥fire🔥

@arafilez (ara) - FELLOW CHAOS MAKER ATINY SIMP why are we like this ahem— desi moot pt. idek but srsly ilysm mwah <33

@nonononranghaee (hafs) - the one person who has flustered me without actually doing anything because. well. 😅

[mrscarmenbearzatto]

nurse cupid | carmen berzatto

claire and carmen used to date. you work under claire, and are now dating carmen. what a fucked up triangle ─ 1.33k cw: fem!reader, she/her pronouns used

Ever since you were young, you knew you wanted to be a nurse. Every career day at school, your answer was the same: "I want to be a nurse and help people!" usually written in yellow crayon.

So, managing to score a job in an ER in Chicago was a dream come true. You loved Chicago and your charge nurse, Claire, was one of your closest friends. Emphasis on was. That was before you and Carmy met.

Carmen Berzatto. The boy you met through Syd, one of your oldest friends. After weeks of back and forth flirting, you and him finally asked for each other's numbers and set up a date, much to Syd's apprecation since all he talked about outside of work was you and if you were stopping in.

Claire only found out about your relationship with Carmy after he insisted taking you to work one particularly snowy morning, leaving you with a goodbye kiss.

That day, she gave you more work then usual. More charts, more patients to watch over and check on, and that was on top of your usual work load. Plus, everytime you asked her a question she gave an exhausted sounding sigh and explained it to you like you were a child, with a condescending tone in her voice.

"Claire." You walk over to her, setting the charts (filled out) down on the desk. "What the hell is your issue with me today? You've been giving me your patients and frankly, your attitude towards me is passive aggressive. If there's something I did, tell me what it is and I can fix it." You request.

Her pager beeps as she hums. "The chief wants to see you." She says, beginning to walk off, and you follow her.

──

As soon as you stepped foot into the chief’s office, you knew what was happening. One of the ladies from HR you’d met once before, the chief, and Claire. Sat around a coffee table.

“Hi Y/n. Glad you could join us.” You know that’s HR talk for “glad we summoned you, let’s tell you what you did wrong.”

You sit down, noticing the look Claire gives you. It’s almost a glare.

“Mm. Can I ask what this is about?” You question.

“Well, Claire here has a feeling that you’re trying to shove a personal relationship in her face. I understand you are dating her ex and she just feels that-”

“That you’re basically trying to remind me of what Carmen and I went through. What we once had.” Claire cuts Aileen (the woman from HR) off, tilting her head at you as she waits on a response.

You stare at her, actually letting out a mix of a scoff and a laugh. “I’m sorry? Claire, Carm and you broke up nearly a year ago. Why are you still hooked on him?”

“This isn’t about me. You knew damn well I’d be at work this morning when he dropped you off.” “It was freezing cold! He didn’t want me walking or taking a cold train, so he offered to drive me since it’s on his way to work. He gave me a kiss and I never even brought it up to you.”

“Ladies!” The chief cuts you both off. “Aileen has agreed to investigate this further. Y/n, refraining from engaging with your boyfriend for respect of Claire’s feelings would be best.” He encourages.

You actually have tears in your eyes from the frusturation, your hands shaking from where you sit. "I'm sorry, can you excuse me for a moment?" You ask softly, standing up before they answer and practically running out of the room.

You barely make it out before you hear the office door shut, not by you but by Claire. "Y/n-"

"What the hell did I do to you, huh? Is this because Carmen and you broke up, or maybe because I didn't come running to you asking for your permission before I began dating him? What is it?" You question, throwing your hands in the air before slapping your hands against your side.

"Don't blame me for this. You're the one who had to go and act like a.. like a school girl bitch and put your relationship with him near me." She scolds. The tears you had been fighting back actually start falling at that, as you wipe them quickly. You shake your head, as you push past her and the flood of doctors.

──

Cold air be damned, you cross your arms over your chest as you lean against the brick wall outside. Ambulances soar past toward the ER exit, but you don't pay them any attention. It isn't until a familiar car pulls up in front of you that you actually look up.

"Hey, pretty girl. You okay?" Carmen's comforting voice asks, getting out of his car with his coat in hands, putting it over your shoulders. His heart breaks at the sight of your tears, nose red from probably the cold and crying, a frown matching yours.

You bury your face in his neck, only moving it to speak. "Claire saw you drop me off this morning and reported me to human resources. Then called me a school-girl bitch for 'putting our relationship near her'." You answer, your voice soft.

He nods slowly, trying to keep himself calm near you. "Why don't you go get in the car, huh? I'll go grab your stuff from inside." He asks, taking your hands in his. You smile. "Thanks, Carmy. Just behave yourself, please." You request, before climbing into the passenger seat of the car.

He watches to make sure you're safe in the car before he goes inside, fists clenched at his side. Behaving himself was something Carmen had never enjoyed doing, so why would he?

He spots Claire almost immediately, walking over. "Carmen-" She begins.

"Claire. What the fuck is your problem?" He cuts her off, staring at her. "Y/n has done nothing to you. If you're pissed about how we left things, that's fine. But you have zero right to harass my girlfriend over how I’ve moved on. I suggest you do the same.”

He doesn’t wait for a reply, instead making his way up to the chief’s office. Knocking on the door and waiting for the faint "come in", Carmen steps into the office and clears his throat as his jacket hangs off one arm.

“Hi, sir. My name is Carmen Berzatto, I’m-”

“I know who you are, son.” Ed, the chief, says with a nod. “And I know why you’re here. And I’d like to only say this once, so I’d appreciate your listening. Y/n is a fantastic employee as I'm sure she's a fantastic partner. I hate to see that girl crying. So, allow this to be a warning.." Ed stands, circling the desk and sitting on the edge, arms crossed right in front of Carmen.

".. If you hurt her, and I find she comes into work again crying because of you, I will end you. Are we clear?" Ed asks, and Carmen immediately asks. "Yes, sir, thank you." He says.

Carmen made his way back to the car, finding you in the frontseat, staring at the radio. He sets your bag in the backseat, climbing into the passenger's seat. "Your radio is all weird." You mumble.

He laughs, placing a kiss on your head. "I'm sorry about Claire. I should have told you.. I promise I am gonna spend the rest of the day making it up to you." He says.

You smile at him. "As long as I've got you, I don't care, Carmy. It isn't your fault."

He grins. "Well, you've got me for as long as you'll have me."

──

It doesn't shock anyone when you're moved to a different unit a week later, this time one where your boyfriend didn't date the charge nurse that would harass you. At least if they did, Carmy would be there to comfort you.

Like he always is.

˙ ✩°˖🌸 ⋆｡˚꩜

shine on, shine on, my loves!

thank you for reading! please feel free to engage with this post by reblogging, commenting or sliding into my inbox to leave feedback! i appreciate all of you! check out my carmen berzatto masterlist here for more fanfics!

- mae

#maeberzatto #mae writes! #mae writes: the bear #carmen berzatto imagine #carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #the bear hulu #carmen berzatto fanfiction #carmy berzatto x female reader #carmy berzatto x reader #carmy the bear #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto #the bear claire #carmen berzatto x female reader #nurse!reader au #reader x character #reader insert #i hope yall love this lmfao

[sotwk]

Welcome to "Sons of the Woodland King" (SotWK)

Last updated: 4/14/24

The Elvenking and Elvenqueen: Personal SotWK commission by beelzeebub

SotWK Masterlists and Content

I've organized all my original content and other fun goodies in the pages linked below:

FanFiction Masterlist

Headcanon Masterlist

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get to know me - Want to know more about me as a writer and a person? Here are my answers to questions and tag games!

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My ASK BOX is OPEN!

I regularly update my masterlists, but please consider becoming a Follower/Mutual! I'd love to connect with you and exchange works--maybe even collaborate!

About "Sons of the Woodland King": a Tolkien AU & Fanfic Series

SotWK tells the story of Thranduil, all the way back from his childhood in Doriath to the final years of his rule over Eryn Lasgalen. There is a TON of history to cover in almost 7,000 years of the Elvenking’s life!

In this version of Thranduil’s story, he falls in love and marries a Noldorin elleth, Maereth, before he eventually inherits the throne of Greenwood the Great. Together they bear and raise five strong sons: Crown Prince Mirion, Prince Turhir, Prince Arvellas, Prince Gelir, and Prince Legolas.

SotWK chronicles their lives together, centuries filled with triumph and tragedy interwoven with the fates of many other famous figures in Middle-earth history.

The Elvenking's Five Sons: (L-R) Legolas, Arvellas, Mirion, Turhir, Gelir

Art: Personal SotWK commission by hffhifjou

About Me: SotWK the Blogger

Mae govannen, mellyn nin!

Please call me SotWK (pronounce an invisible "i" between the "w" and "k"); or you can use Nana/Naneth ("mom" in Sindarin) as some of my mutuals do, if you'd like.

I'm a fangirl in my late 30s, dividing my energy and hours among my husband, our two boys, a full-time job, and my fandom hobbies. I reside in the US (PST).

I have been an on-and-off LOTR fanfic writer since 2003. I started this blog in October 2022 after deciding to dust off and resume my writing project, "Sons of the Woodland King", a fanfiction series focusing on Thranduil Oropherion, Elvenking of the Woodland Realm.

I also write for various Tolkien canon characters alongside my own OCs and take requests for Reader Insert fics.

I reblog media from some other fandoms as well, mostly in the fantasy, period/medieval, superhero, and sci-fi genres. I use meme gifs from my favorite sitcoms a LOT.

This is a PG-13 blog (I do not post or reblog adult/explicit content), so minors are welcome. This blog is meant to be a safe space for everyone regardless of background or belief, and should be conflict and drama-free at all times.

The SotWK mission: for Mutuals, Readers, and Visitors to come together in appreciation for everything Middle-earth (esp. Thranduil and his kingdom!), relax while hanging out with friends, and feel better about the world and themselves.

In the name of the Elvenking--may you and your house always endure!

#sotwk #thranduil headcanons #thranduil oropherion #thranduil fanfiction #sons of the woodland king #the hobbit #thranduil x reader #legolas #legolas fanfiction #lotr #lotr fanfiction #tolkien #mirkwood #mirkwood elves

[doodle-pops]

Maedhros doesn't engage in touch until he truly feels comfortable with the idea of a relationship and even that would take time, months of their private teatimes and a certain slowness in getting to know another -- a sweet sense of familiarity of each other's small habits and changes in expression. Reader gifts him a book, perhaps in the dead of winter for him to read by the fire, a book that she had held dear and close to her heart, though willing to part with it in order to gift it to someone more close and more dear.

I like to think of springtime when he invites her to a walk, to see the sun against her hair and her soft gasp at the sight of the season's first butterflies. Maedhros had once anticipated a much more formal arrangement for himself, hypothetically -- a marriage of state for one reason or another, but he hadn't quite expected this, such an unexpected gentleness within his heart, from such an unassuming maiden. It's a true comfort to have Reader by his side, and he makes his intentions clear to her under the shade of an old tree.

So, uh, this was way longer than I thought it would be, and I'm not 100% happy with it… at first I had imagined a lot of short vignettes -- Reader coming out of her shell, explaining in measured, thorough fashion what had held her gaze towards him for so long… an inevitable wedding and the altar being the site of their first kiss… the distinctions between their class and how it would change after their betrothal, though Maedhros would find it endlessly charming that she continues to have the same humbleness as ever. The hard part was making that all somehow feasible. (Still, I want to know how you might have gone with it!) While I'd love an AU that ends with them having a lot of children and maybe Reader passing on (really, human!Reader is my favorite, size difference and "human/elf relations are known not to bear fruit easily, so I'll have to seed you full to be sure a child takes" aside), I also like the idea of Reader left alone after he and Maglor take the Silmarils. Maybe there'd be some leeway given to him at the Hall of Mandos? Angst with happy endings is the only good form of it in my book, no whump allowed here. Anyhow, that's it for now. I don't know if you'd be receptive to the idea, but those vignettes are stark in my mind -- I'm just terrible at describing them -- would it be possible to draw them out and send them via your submit box? I don't believe I'm able to upload images through your ask box… is all. Regardless, thanks for indulging me, even if I'm not at all familiar with writing!

Alright, first of all: I enjoyed reading the out-of touch/touch-starved journey, and what an interesting version of reader. I don't believe I've ever come across a spinster reader before, so this was interesting. I'm also into your differences you mentioned with reader having children. Then that would mean when Mae leaves Mandos, he meets only his children or descendants should one of them marry an elf to strengthen the chances of being immortal.

I can see you're not someone who enjoys the sad endings. No fault, happy endings are good for the soul. Keeps us nourished.

As for your inquiry, you are welcome to send it in as a submission (I'll turn on the submit function) or via images but you'll need to be off anonymous to send them in I believe. And no need to apologise about your writing, we all have to start from somewhere 😁.

Thank you for feeling comfortable enough to share them with me 🤗

#[ plot doodles ] #maedhros #maedhros imagine #silmarillion imagine

[looseratinthegarage]

if its not against the rules, can you do jason, bubba, thomas and michael with a gn s/o whos like flippy from happy tree friends?

S/o who is like Flippy from Happy Tree Friends

Thank you for your request!! It was so fun to write! I had never heard of Happy Tree Friends before yesterday, so I might not have written it very accurate… but I did some research and tried my best! I wanted to post last night but got too tired to finish it T^T I hope you like it!! If it’s not what you wanted then message me :3

TW: Slight gore, mild language

Jason

Attacking Him

•the first time it happened Jason panicked

•he had no idea why you were trying to kill him!?

•the best option in his mind was to knock you out, so that’s what he did

•when you came to, you were tied down to the bed, to insure both of your safety’s

•he rly doesn’t like hurting you y/n! T^T

•you were able to explain to him what happened and why

•he hugged you and ultimately understood… well kinda

•after that he tried to keep you away from your triggers and calm you down when you went berserk

•often tying you up somewhere and offering food, from a safe distance of course def doesn’t put venison on a stick

•that seems to chill you out….

Attacking campers

•now if this was your first time flipping out, and it was on campers not him, expect so many questions-

•the sight of you being near campers… well let’s just say his soul almost left his body

•He was so worried for your safety!!

•but when one of the teens throws a popper at the ground…

•well you make mortal combat look like a kids show

•the loud noise brought back some traumatic memories…

•but after the chaos and bloodlust he’ll sooth you and rock you in his arms

Bubba

Attacking Him

•Tears and distressed squeals

•he’s absolutely terrified

•he goes running to his brothers in a panic not knowing what to do

•most likely drayton will knock you out with his broom-

•once you come to, Bubba won’t be near you

•you have to explain what happened to the other brothers

•nubbins will relay the new information to bubba

•and once he feels comfortable enough he’ll come check on you

•once he sees that your normal again he’s going to be crying all over again

•though happy tears!

•he’ll hug, snuggle, and kiss the lights out of you-

•pls don’t scare him again… I don’t think he can handle more stress….

Attacking Victims

•Still scares him, but not as bad

•panics a bit

•will def grab you in a bear hug and not let you hurt others or yourself

•he tries to keep you away from triggers and things that will set you off

•to Bubbas dismay, if a victim escapes Drayton will ‘let you loose’ in his words

•often times triggering you and pushing you out of the house

•you will go feral on said escapee and handle the problem rather quickly

•when you regain control Bubba will be searching you for wounds

•even if it’s a little scrape or bruise he’ll freak out

•he’ll angrily squeal at his brother and pick you up

•he would take care of you and snuggle you in bed

Thomas

Attacking Him

•Betrayal

•instant betrayal

•would tie you to the butchers table

•he’d go running to his mamma and cry to her

•Luda Mae was actually the one to suggest you might not be able to control it

•this helped Thomas calm down a little bit…

•he left you there for the night, he rly didn’t want to T^T

•in the morning when he went to check on you, you had dried tears on your face

•you were panicked, why were you here!?!

•Thomas told you want happened and you apologized profusely

•he undid your bindings and hugged you

•he was just so relieved that you didn’t hate him

•expect him to be extra clingy for a couple of weeks

Attacking Victims

•a mixture of anxiety and arousal

•he finds it hot that you can take care of the family too

•but on the other hand he rly doesn’t want you to get hurt

•after your murderous high he’ll look you over for any injuries

•he’ll hold you close and whisper praises in your ear

•simular to Drayton, if a victim escapes Hoyt will send you out

•he calls you an animal, Thomas doesn’t like this very much…

Michael RZ

Attacking Him

•There’s no getting around it, he was pissed

•how dare you attack him? The only reason you're alive is because he lets you! def not a total lie, he love u

•he was going to stab you, but then looked into your eyes

•I’m sorry to disappoint but he didn’t not stab you because of love

•don’t get me wrong, he adores you!!!

•But he didn’t kill you because he saw the look in your eyes

•emptiness

•he could relate to the flash of murdery needs

•he figured you couldn’t control it and grabbed you

•he sat down on the floor and restrained your limbs, bringing your back to his chest

•he would sit there for as long as you needed to calm down

•once you did, he would just kinda walk off and do his own thing again

Attacking Victims

•your mans is frustrated not mad just frustrated

•that’s his jobbbb stooppp y/nnnn

•basically a whiny bastard

•yet also relieved you can kick ass if you need to, it makes him rest easy when away from you def doesn’t find it super hot or anything…

•after your PTSD flashbacks he doesn’t really think you’d need to be comforted

•I mean, he kills all the time, if anything he probably thinks your feeling good

•but if you voice that you need to be snuggled or babied then he would happily begrudgingly do so

#horror #slashers #slasher community #texas chainsaw massacre #bubba sawyer #friday the 13th #slasher x reader #thomas hewitt #halloween #jason voorhees #slashers x reader #michael myers #rob zombie michael myers #thomas brown hewitt #drayton sawyer #nubbins sawyer #predator x reader #freddy krueger #nightmare on elm street #rz michael myers #slasher #yautja x reader

[brandnewhuman]

hihiii,, i was wondering if i could request slashers with a naturally dom gn!reader??

I would love to read the dynamics of the relationships and how things would progress 👀💞💕

Omg ofc!!^^ oh god I'm so excited, this is my first request. Hope you like it!! *insert evil gremlin giggles* I had way too much fun with this

SLASHERS WITH DOM GN!READER

INCLUDES:

Michael Myers, Jesse Cromeans, Thomas Hewitt, Brahms Heelshire,

Tw: canon violence, slightly NSFW, sfw, mention of murder, injuries and all that jazz

A/N: like I said in my rules post I'm not the best at writing NSFW stuff like smut ecc so please do forgive me for this atrocious thing I've created. I've tried to go more for a soft dom thing. Hope you like it tho ^^. Also you haven't specified which slashers did you want in particular so I just chose randomly.

THOMAS HEWITT:

Thomas is not a very dominant person by nature

He being shy and self conscious doesn't help his cause

He low-key allows everyone to boss him around in a very aggressive and almost abusive way (besides luda mae ofc, but even her sometimes is really harsh with him)

So having someone who can take control while being considerate of his feelings is a nice change he's eager to welcome

Let's be honest, he's already willing of doing anything his s/o wants to make them happy so

Please use your influence to make him take care of himself. Telling him how proud you feel everytime he does

Low-key has a praise kink

Having someone so confident he considers perfect complimenting him and say he's being good or praising how he does everything you ask for perfectly makes him feel so much better about himself

letting his s/o be the one leading is a relief for him. He kinda feels like for the first time he can let someone be in charge without feeling guilty

Even if he's a big guy, this giant Teddy bear is going to be clay on his s/o hands.

He's not going to have much experience so Tommy's honestly glad his s/o tells him what to do

He's not going to be as afraid of hurting you as usual cause he knows you're always have everything under control

However, as much as he enjoys the whole being a bottom business he wants his boundaries respected

That means he's not going to be happy about punishments ecc being them the sexual ones or any other sort

It's not that he's a brat or anything

Prefers much more a gentle correction or just simply telling him when he needs to do something differently. He has enough people making feel bad for every single mistake, he does not want to feel like his s/o sees him as a failure too

Speaking of, his s/o will definitely have to defend their man honour in front of hoyt. He's going to be an ass as soon and say things to Thomas such a "man up" ecc..

Overall he just enjoys having you around to make him feel safe and loved. You're going to have so much work to do about his self esteem but in the end it's worthy cause he's ready to go to the moon and back for you

BRAHMS HEELSHIRE:

Bro has big gremlin energy I'm sorry.

At first his going to take it a challenge of seeing how long it takes for you to give up

He's not bratty for sake of being bratty, he has a purpose. he kinda senses when someone is easy to boss around and will take advantage of that

When he sees that your being dominant means having structure and receiving a healthy form of love he will eventually accept his role of sub gremlin

Mate is going to do anything it takes to please you

I feel like one of the things he likes the most about having a dom s/o is the reassurance and comfort it brings to him

He prefers having someone who knows how to handle him and keeps him in line rather than a person who's easy to push around

I mean, half of the work is already done with him having the need to follow a routine and rules

Your personality falls perfectly into place with his, your taking charge of things is almost a comfort blanket for brahms

It gives him the feeling of safety of being taken care and knowing he can rely on someone when things are difficult

The stability you give him is something he deeply appreciates

That doesn't mean he's not going to test your patience more than once

Babyboy here is not going to give a flying fuck about the stability when you happen to say no to him.

Unlike Thomas you can and should make punishment for him

Not too hard-core ones but still

Be careful cause this horny bastard might enjoy sexual punishments

Do tell him when his being good, compliment his appearance and praise him when he takes care of himself cause the reason behind the poor hygiene, not eating enough, lack of sleep ecc is due to his depression and mental problems. He has being raised to feel like a burden and to hide himself and his problems behind the wall so please do all you can to help him not only a talking about his problems but to make him feel like he's worthy of taking care of himself

AYO BIG FAT PRAISE KINK BRUV

One (1) single "good boy" and his soul is skyrocketing out of his fucking body

He finds his relationship with you so fulfilling, it feels nice to have someone who's personality allows him to be more vulnerable

I think having a dom s/o could be really healthy for brahms. He needs the unconditional love and reassurance but also needs someone capable of toning him down in a healthy way when he's getting out of control

MiCHAEL MYERS

He, like brahms, feeds on people's fear. That the whole point of being the shape, he enjoys how much power he has over someone. People who are easy to crush and break down only makes him want to kill them more

Long story short he is girlbossing through life

So probably what saved your life was your dominant nature. He has been observing how you seem to naturally take charge anywhere you go but without being pushy and forcing anyone to do anything

You had this talent of making everyone at ease and effortlessly being able to take the lead. People around you were always willing to do what you needed them to do without being manipulative or anything. You just made everyone comfortable enough to give up control

The tall bastard here was mesmerised and honestly curious

It doesn't need to be said that Michael likes to have always control over everything and associates giving up control to being treated like he was treated back in Smith's groove. He always felt the imbalance of power between him and everyone else there and feeling that weak and vulnerable again is never going to be an option for mikey

After he makes himself known ecc and your relationship starts to bloom it's not going to be fucking easy

You have come to know how much michael dispise when someone else is in charge but both of you are pretty stubborn so eventually you just learned to be more sneaky about it.

Michael dominance is based on being feared so when that doesn't work on you he's flabbergasted

He's having none of it. You mean to tell me that you don't let the shape, the boogeyman of haddonfield boss you around and tell you what to do?? Unacceptable.

He won't say but he doesn't even realise you have already got your way. You're so subtle and gentle, playing your cards well.

Michael ends up being oblivious about the fact that he's already doing what you want him to do. He's a deeply emotional damaged man and even if he doesn't want to admit the fastest way to get to his heart is just taking care of him the way he needs

"Michael, honey you must be hungry aren't you? Why don't seat and eat some dinner, how does that sound?"

Just making everything look like his the one deciding and he will do about anything.

Now here's the tricky part; while this might work as soon as he catches up on what you're doing he's going to distance himself

Maybe he tells himself he will just leave you and never come back but deep inside he can't deny how nice does it feels to be around you. He will do this until he manages to sort out his feelings and finds a way to allow himself to feel like this

He's genuinely scare deep inside. His afraid of you abusing the power you have and honestly he sometimes doesn't feel like it's worthy to put so much effort on making him feel good

He has only ever known a single way to feel good and thats killing people, so when you manage to get him to feel something nice just by being around him ecc it messes up his head a little bit.

He's never going to give you full control but he has somehow managed to meet you along the way.

One of the few things he enjoys (even if he knows you're making it looks like he's in control so he doesn't get uncomfortable) is how you praise him and you tell him all the ways only him is capable of making you feel.

That being said if you're able to get away with being dominant with Michael you're honestly impressive and you scare me.

JESSE CROMEANS:

Hear me out, he would be more than willing to let you be the dom. In fact he would even enjoy it

His having the time of his making things harder for you though

We have talked about praise kink now get ready for degrading kink

If we're talking about laid to rest 1 jesse then he's gonna be a difficult little bitch just because he likes to test you and your capabilities of finding a appropriate punishment that can put in his place

If it's laid to rest 2 ....don't. He won't say anything cause he wants to seem tough but the whole degrading thing will take a tool on him after the incident. His self esteem is not the same anymore and he's going to have a hard time trying to enjoy sex again

I feel like what makes you special to jesse is the significant difference between the way the victims he chooses behaves and how you act.

He enjoys submissiveness in victims cause it makes killing them more fun. Watching as they plead to be spared and how low they're willing to get to survive.

But with you he wants it to be different cause he knows that he's receiving as much as he's giving away. In your hands he will be everything you want

He, like Thomas, enjoys being free from responsibilities and having a space where he can just give the lead to someone else and just enjoy fooling around and being taken care of

Even more after the injuries on his face. Now more than ever jesse wants to feel loved and to let go the tough guy act. If before he liked because of the sex aspect now he truly appreciates the other parts too

Your praise, your constance reassurance of good and perfect he is, the way you incite him into being more nice to himself

Now your punishments are more caused more because of him talking bad about himself than because he's behaving bad

He generally feels a lot of pressure on him, he always has to take a lot of decisions and most of the time there are so many lives (including yours) depending on him and his lead

So coming home to someone who can take that off of him and allow him to just exist is really something he will never thank you enough for

Can and will encourage you in trying anything new you want while doing sex. He's rich so money is not a problem and honestly jesse enjoys trying new things with you cause he knows you would never do anything that could hurt him or his feelings.

Baldy is a good sub. 10/10 would recommend. Would love you and worship the ground you walk on

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