#no expectations. no worries. just warmth and security with another person

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Obsession | Ghostface, Danny “Jed Olsen” Johnson | Dead By Daylight

Summary. the ghostface isn’t known to be gentle, but when it comes to his... obsession, he can’t seem to bring out anything other than a wicked devotion that many could only envy, even if his muse couldn’t accept it just yet.

Warnings. intimacy, suggestive material, heavy petting, yandere vibes for ghostface tbh

Reader. Female reader <3

Word Count. 1392 words

Authors Notes. another danny fic lets gooooooooooooooo, only spell check was used and i wrote this in only an hour and a half while watching house of the dragon and barely able to speak english at this point. i love commas if you couldnt tell that already lmao. enjoy!

Obsession

the state of being obsessed with someone or something.

"she cared for him with a devotion bordering on obsession"

an idea or thought that continually preoccupies or intrudes on a person's mind.

plural noun: obsessions

ㅡ”without obsession, life is nothing.” John Waters

There was something in the way he held you that made his grip secure, where you could feel the groove under every knuckle and the rise of his calloused skin, it was safe. It was comforting, really, if you ignored the suffocating reality that this wasn’t a choice of your own free will, and that your current situation was one that you had to become accustomed to. Large, needy hands move around you as you lay on your back, and you remain still enough for him to get comfortable on you.

His mask is shifted upwards slightly enough to see his lips, a wicked smile shows between them, and you feel a shiver up your spine as your body relaxes enough for the Ghostface to not know of your own inner turmoil's that are hidden behind your eyes and above your heart. He rests his head on your chest, face turned up into the crook of your neck and shoulder, his mask laying on the other side of your body while a killer finds comfort in your warmth- legs open and his weight crushing you in an oddly pleasant way.

He smells of leather, iron, and cologne, his hair is longer than usual, the short black tufts have now become loose curls that tickle the side of your face and neck. His scruff is starting to grow, you note, feeling it scratch your skin as he nuzzles into you further to comfort himself. He finally stills, and you let out a small sigh, giving yourself some time to shift under him for your own comfort.

He's cold, so unbelievably cold, and he saps the warmth your body created like a leech does to an open sore. Your heart picks up a bit as you feel his gaze on you, looking through the flesh and into a deeper part of yourself that even you refuse to acknowledge. His eyes aren't meeting yours, yours are closed, relaxed, and moving behind the darkness of your lids, His eyes stare into your skin, looking up, unmoving. 

He’s waiting, you realize. Your hand twitches, before slowly coming up to rake your nails through his hair, a satisfied hum leaves his throat through unopened lips. But his eyes don't close. He expects more from his gaze. His muse. His lover. 

Another hand, at the same pace as its successor, moves under the opened leather jacket, before finding its way under more cloth to the cool feel of his back. He isn’t a corpse, but he lacks so much warmth, you almost worry for him, 

“Keep going.” He's curt, but his voice is soft, as you realize that this is Danny you're in the presence of. Your fingertips are warm, and the palm of your hand even more so, and as your dignity falls into nothing Danny finds himself pleased as you fall to him whims of your own volition. 

For a killer, one who lacks a heart, who lacks every shred of humanity that is expected of a man, he finds himself at the mercy of his instinct. He’s needy, clingy, desperate for your attention. The beast that craves the screams of his victims, a ghost in the night, a monster that thrives off playing with the mind of his victims finds himself at the feet of an unwilling woman whom he can't imagine a life without.

You start to scratch at his back lightly, and his skin raises at the attention, begging for more of you, before flattening your palm to soothe the red flesh. His mind is full of static, and he presses himself into your body even more, the need to crawl into your skin becomes more and more evident as he stares into your body once again, and your anxiety spikes.

He feels how your body reacts to him, fearful, yet pleased. Hesitant, but yearning. You enjoy the attention he gives you, the feeling of knowing how you’d never be rejected by him in any way, shape, or form. Your heart and body fight your mind as you force yourself to remember the blood that stains his hands, the thrill he feels chasing down his prey, his victims, and the subsequent glee as they take their final breaths under a hunting knife as the phone line is cut.

You were never going to be one of them. He assured you that.

You were to be worshiped by him, to have your feet kissed and your body touched with love and safety, to have your needs provided for as you keep him sane by merely allowing him to be near you- to take what he needs from you. 

But he also can't deny the jump of his heart when your voice quivers underneath him, or when you jump as you realize he's in the room much later than the time he entered it, the way you fight the urge to lean into him and his hands hold your face or when they grab at your hips.

He was in love with the way your skin felt against his, searing hot, as your bodies molded together in a way he can only describe as perfection. The way you style your hair to fit your face in the most pleasing manner, how you bite at your lip or cheek when thinking or absentmindedly, the way your fingers would tap against the countertops or the wheel of your car as music plays- either aloud or in your own head. Everything about you screamed at him to worship that part with every part of his being, his newfound, and unknown obsession.

He mouths at your neck while you continue to massage and scratch at his back, playing and pulling at his hair at the same time, His mind races with need as you take in a quick take of air, a broken whimper leaving your throat as he continues to mark up your neck as best as he could, his own hand coming up to your jaw, to hold your figure in place before you squirm as you usually do when in his hands.

Your senses are overwhelmed by him, the way he feels, the way his body looks laid on top of you as a mess of ebony rests just under your chin, his scent filling becoming stronger as he manages to somehow get even closer. You hear the sound of his mouth on your skin, his heavy breathing, the sounds that leave him before he slowly moves his hips into yours- leaving you pawing at his hair and skin as your own hips move to meet his.

He overwhelms you. He leaves you needy and empty, craving more of him as your mind screams to just leave him and run, but those thoughts are only pushed back further and further into your head as the emptiness and need grows more in importance at that moment.

You know he’d never hurt you, even if you asked, because he can’t bring himself to.

It brings you comfort as you fall into him, allowing your heart to open up, and he notices rather quickly.

Your body finally is able to relax, sinking into the bed under his weight, no longer fighting to keep yourself up. Allowing yourself to sigh and move your own hips against his, before you tug at his clothes in a silent beg for more and it leaves Danny feral for your need.

He grins again, wicked and delighted, teeth against your skin as you finally fall into his touch. He’d gladly lay himself bare for you, ready and waiting, watching in delight as dark eyes watch as you finally start to take what you need from him.

His obsession leaves him weak for you, open, and bare.

And it leaves you hungry, and watchful, moving to please the both of you.

It soon grows, and the obsession is a mutual agreement, of blood and kisses, with bared teeth and needy hands, playful and curious as time goes on.

It's an obsession, yes, you’ll admit that later on.

But is that so wrong?

#dead by daylight x reader #dead by daylight #ghostface x reader #ghost x reader #ghostface x you #danny johnson #danny johnson x reader #danny jed olsen johnson #jed olsen #jed olsen x reader #dbd x reader #dbd x you #dbd ghostface #dbd imagines #x reader #reader insert #queen.writing #fem!reader #fem reader #female reader #ghostface x female reader #male yandere #yandere ghostface

[zapreportsblog]

You’re My Player 1

➥ a/n: original fic is called “My Girl” this is Earth 42 miles - the prowlers ending

As Miles - the prowler smirked, playfully claiming, "Yeah, I knew you'd choose me," (Y/n) rolled her eyes with a teasing smile.

"Dial it back with that cockiness, little darlin', cause I can turn my behind around right now and leave you," she said, pretending to be unimpressed.

Miles, taking the hint, softened his expression and pulled her into a warm embrace, his arms wrapped securely behind her. "Don't be like that, cariña. I was just confident in us."

"Since when was there an 'us' before today?" (Y/n) asked, looking up at him curiously.

"Since the moment I laid my eyes on you," Miles replied with a genuine smile. "From the first time we met, I felt a connection, and it only grew stronger with time."

(Y/n) raised an eyebrow in disbelief. "Didn't you hate me at first, though?"

Miles chuckled, brushing off the question with a playful shrug. "Don't worry about that, sweetheart. That was then, and this is now. I was a different person back then, and you've changed my life."

(Y/n) couldn't help but be amused by his confident and charming demeanor. "Oh, have I?"

"Yeah, you have," Miles replied, his voice sincere. "You brought out a side of me I never knew existed. You made me want to be a better person, and I'm grateful for that."

She smiled, touched by his heartfelt words. "You've changed my life too, you know. I never expected to find someone like you."

Miles leaned in, brushing his lips against her forehead. "And I never expected to find someone like you. You're everything I never knew I needed."

(Y/n) blushed, feeling a rush of warmth and affection for Miles. "You're quite the charmer, aren't you?"

Miles chuckled, pulling her even closer. "Only for you, cariña. Only for you."

Their playful banter and heartfelt confessions continued, and as the evening wore on, they found themselves getting lost in each other's company. With each passing moment, their connection deepened, and the feelings they had for each other grew stronger.

As they walked hand in hand under the moonlit sky, (Y/n) couldn't help but think how lucky she was to have found someone like Miles. His confidence and cockiness might have been a bit much at times, but it was part of what made him unique and endearing to her.

And as for Miles, he couldn't believe how much (Y/n) had changed his life for the better. She had shown him that he could be vulnerable, that he could love and be loved, and he was grateful every day for the chance to be with her.

As they continued to explore their newfound relationship, they both knew that they were embarking on a beautiful and thrilling journey together. The bond they shared was undeniable, and they were excited to see where it would lead them next. Whatever challenges and adventures lay ahead, they knew they could face them together, hand in hand, their hearts entwined with a love that was as confident as it was genuine.

•••

Miles and (Y/n) walked hand in hand down the hallways of their high school when suddenly someone called out to her in a degrading manner.

The cat caller's offensive words reached (Y/n)'s ears, she felt a mix of frustration and anger rise within her. But before she could even react, Miles - the prowler had already sprung into action, charging towards the guy without a second thought.

"Don't worry about it, little darlin'," (Y/n) said, trying to reassure him, but she was unable to stop him in time.

The confrontation escalated quickly as Miles and the cat caller exchanged heated words. (Y/n) tried to intervene, but the situation spiraled out of control, and the cat caller's insults only fueled Miles' protective instincts.

The cat caller's disrespectful behavior reached its peak when he uttered a derogatory term towards (Y/n). Her eyes narrowed, and she felt an instinctive urge to retaliate. She reached out and grabbed the cat caller's shoulder, stopping him from taking another step.

But before she could say anything, Miles acted decisively, delivering a swift punch that knocked the guy back into the lockers. The cat caller stumbled, dazed and disoriented, as Miles stood over him, anger evident in his eyes.

"That's enough," (Y/n) said firmly, signaling for Miles to stop. She didn't want things to escalate further, and she knew that violence wasn't the answer.

Miles reluctantly stepped back, his adrenaline still pumping. "He had it coming, (Y/n). No one should talk to you like that or any female like that.”

"I know, and I appreciate you standing up for me," (Y/n) replied, her voice filled with gratitude. "But let's just walk away now. We don't need any more trouble."

Miles took a deep breath, trying to calm himself. He knew (Y/n) was right, and he didn't want to cause any more drama. He reached for her hand, intertwining their fingers, and they walked away from the scene, leaving the cat caller unconscious against the lockers.

As they walked down the hallway, the tension slowly dissipated, and Miles' grip on (Y/n)'s hand relaxed. "I just hate seeing anyone disrespect you like that," he admitted, his voice tinged with frustration.

"I know you do, and I appreciate you standing up for me," (Y/n) said sincerely. "But I don't want you to get hurt because of me. I can handle myself."

Miles smiled, his anger subsiding as he looked at (Y/n) with admiration. "I know you can, and that's one of the things I love about you. But I can't help it; I want to protect you."

"I know, and I love that about you too," (Y/n) said, leaning her head against his shoulder. "Just remember that I'm strong too, and we'll face whatever comes our way together."

Miles nodded, feeling a sense of comfort and relief wash over him. He knew that (Y/n) was right; they were a team, and they would face any challenges together, supporting each other every step of the way.

As they continued down the hall, hand in hand, Miles couldn't help but feel a surge of love and appreciation for (Y/n). She had a way of grounding him and reminding him of what truly mattered. With her by his side, he felt invincible, ready to take on whatever obstacles life threw their way.

•••

As the bell rang to signal the end of the class period, the students started to gather their belongings, chatting and laughing. But all the chatter came to a halt when the classroom door swung open, revealing Miles - the prowler with a bouquet of flowers in hand.

He scanned the room, his eyes locking onto (Y/n) sitting at her desk. A smile crept across his face as he made his way towards her, causing a collective "aww" to echo in the room.

Miles - the prowler stood in front of (Y/n), holding out the bouquet with a slightly nervous expression. "Hey, I got these from the garden club. Thought you might like them."

(Y/n)'s cheeks flushed with a deep blush, but she couldn't hide the joy that sparkled in her eyes. She accepted the flowers with a grateful smile, feeling touched by the gesture.

"Thank you, Miles. They're beautiful," she said softly, running her fingers over the delicate petals.

The students around them cooed and giggled, delighted by the romantic scene unfolding before them. Miles - the prowler simply shrugged, trying to act nonchalant despite the attention.

"No big deal. Just thought you deserved something nice," he replied, trying to keep his cocky facade intact.

But (Y/n) saw through the act, and she couldn't help but find his genuine side even more endearing. She leaned over and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, making the surrounding students gasp in surprise.

Miles chuckled, his tough exterior melting away as he pulled (Y/n) closer. "You're something else, you know that?"

(Y/n) smiled up at him, feeling a warm wave of affection wash over her. "And you're not so bad yourself, Miles."

With that, they walked out of the classroom hand in hand, leaving the students behind in awe of the sweet moment they had witnessed. As they made their way down the hallway, the smiles on their faces spoke volumes about the connection they shared.

The flowers, a symbol of Miles' thoughtfulness and affection, accompanied them on their journey. They had become more than just a gift; they were a representation of the love they had for each other.

As they stepped outside, the sun bathed them in its golden glow, and (Y/n) felt like she was floating on air. Hand in hand with Miles, she knew she was exactly where she was meant to be. With him, every moment felt like a sweet and tender memory, and she couldn't wait to make countless more with the person who had stolen her heart.

Together, they walked hand in hand, ready to face whatever came their way, knowing that as long as they had each other, they could conquer any challenges that life had in store. Their love was like the flowers, blooming and flourishing with each passing day, and it was a love that neither of them could ever let go of.

#x reader #x reader series #spiderman into the spiderverse #spiderverse x reader #spiderverse imagine #spider gang #spiderman into the spiderverse masterlist #miles morales x reader #earth 42 miles morales x you #miles 42 #earth 42 miles imagine #earth 42 miles morales x female reader #earth 42 miles angst #earth 42 miles morales x black!reader #earth 42 miles morales #earth 42 miles x reader #earth 42 miles x you #earth 42 prowler #earth 42 miles morales x reader #miles morales #earth 42 miles fluff #earth 42 miles x black reader #x reader oneshot #x reader one shot #x reader mini series

[obriengf]

Undercover Darlings || Mitch Rapp x Reader

Summary: It's Valentines day, and you and Mitch are playing fake lovers.  Words: 1.9k Warnings: swearing, cuteness, mitch being sassy to stan Notes: guys no this didn't turn out how i wanted?? I'm so sorry!

"Put your arm around me." Words were pushed through gritted teeth as you tried to portray a smile of realism, one of joyousness and devotion to the overly familiar man sitting beside you. You could feel his chest rise and fall with a murmur before he released a small sigh - irritation was imminent, but what you couldn't see was the ghost of a smile lifting at his lips. Paris was beautiful this time of year - on the cusp of falling snow, but still clear enough to enjoy the elegance of such a romantic city. The architecture stood sharp as you peered around the vast space before you, eyes gazing over couples as they celebrated a holiday made purely for love. It created a warmth within you, only complemented by the additional weight thrown over your shoulders and the small tug of your body against the firmness of another's chest. A smirk found its way among the contouring of your facial features - amusement etching into the corners of your eyes and the scrunch of your nose. You could feel the muscles of the arm tense, and you knew that you had him where you wanted him. Your partner was never one to show emotion with ease if it didn't consist of anger or irritability, nor were you one to often show roguery or mischievousness. But Mitch Rapp, the big bad Assassin, brought that side out of you so damn easily. It was an enigma just how he managed to do so, but by now it was comfortable more than anything. A small twist of your head allowed lips to press to the man's scruffed cheek, his beard beginning to grow back through despite your protests - it only made his want for it to grow even faster. You could feel a deep breath as it filled his lungs, his heart hammering against the curve of your shoulder blade. A tone of sweetness fell so easily from your lips, "Thanks, sweetie." Mitch's arm squeezed your body, a warning more than a simple acknowledgment. He groaned quietly against the shell of your ear, "Don't push it."

To an estranged eye, the two of you would seem like a couple enjoying the presence of one another; soaking in the strong emotion of love as it filled the Parisian air, without a worry or care. However, that timeline of events was far from what led you both to this specific bench, in this specific park, watching a specific person as they dawdled at the base of France's tallest landmark. Your target was a man with a deep history of 'pissing off the wrong people', as Stan Hurley would put it so elegantly.

The man wasn't hard to miss; his stance tall and build hefty, eyes teetering on the edge of blackened hues, his behaviour shifty despite the experience that weighed so heavily behind him. He ran a weapons trade that spanned the distance of Europe and his focus was secured now upon the rest of the world. Which simply, cannot happen. Not when the Central Intelligence Agency had two of its most adaptable agents ready to stop him.

You had worked alongside Mitch for what seemed like forever when it was nearing almost five years. He objected to it at first, but you held persistence and dedication that your handler couldn't pass up, especially when it came down to taming the beast. It was quicker than expected when you both fell into a routine and soon enough, the quirks and characteristics that made you both so incredibly different were the structure of your unique relationship.

Without declaration, he would burn the world to keep you warm.

"Where is he going?" Mitch's voice hissed, your concentrated daze breaking before looking toward your target. He was meant to be meeting with somebody, however, it wasn't in the cards for his early departure. Your partner cursed as he stood up and your body went with him, a shadow to his lead. Mitch's arm fell from you before his fingers slid nonchalantly with your own; both a wordless protection and tenacity to keep your cover from being blown. Mitch rolled his lips before moving forward, "C'mon, we're gonna lose him."

You couldn't help the furrowed brows of annoyance as static buzzed in your ear, a baffled Stan Hurley blasting question after question in such an incoherence as Mitch led you through the bustling crowds. You side-eyed your partner as he gave you a reciprocated expression before his honey-coloured eyes rolled in an atypical fashion. "He's on the move.", You spoke quietly, hoping that the projection of your voice was enough to be recognised among the numerous conversations you were surrounded by.

"Well, you better fucking catch up to him!" Your handler replied, and Mitch rolled his eyes once more.

"No shit." Your partner's reply with hasty and simple, causing the utmost satisfaction for you both as he was reprimanded briefly afterwards by the voice in your ears.

The man led you both toward a Valentines market; the populated street covered in red from head to toe, acoustic tunes exuding romance playing from street performers, and couples shining their brightest heart eyes at one another. It was the perfect place to get lost in, and in the moment you hoped for dear life that your target didn't know that he was in fact, a target.

Mitch held your hand tighter before tugging you against his side; the familiar weight of his arm now slung back over your shoulders. You blended in perfectly, a flawless seam among the budding bustle of festivalgoers. The proximity bordered on 'too natural' and you wondered if Mitch felt even the slightest complacency as you did at this opportune moment. It was a simple question of 'what if' - in an alternative world where you both weren't government-employed assassins, would your lives be easy and intertwined by fate, where maybe the two of you could live a happily ever aft-

"Rose for the madam?" The thick accent made you jolt, the silly thoughts intruding your mind now gone as Mitch brought you both to a stop. You looked toward a small French man, a stand of explosive colours serving as a beautiful backdrop behind him. Flowers of all sorts were gathered into small bouquets, but the one that stood out most to you was the perfect red petals of a single rose as it was positioned for Mitch's attention.

You were anticipating a refusal, at least a polite decline, with your partner usually one to skip the antics and keep his eyes on the prize. Which is why it took you by surprise when he handed over a few euros, taking the delicate flower in exchange. You didn't often see him smile but the genuine grin that followed and the kindness in his eyes was more than enough to make your heart thump, thump, thump.

Mitch's brow rose as he looked down at your expression of puzzlement, a chuckle of the utmost quietness falling from his lips as he held the rose toward you, "What? It's Valentine's day."

"You just continue to surprise me, is all." You replied, accepting the gift. Your shoulders rose nonchalantly before you peered not too far ahead at your target as he typed away ferociously at his phone. He was quick to move again, and it was your feet now that led the two of you after his further retreat.

Mitch scoffed, his spare hand scratching at his scruffed cheek; a nervous habit you managed to notice easily but kept as a secret for you and only you to know. He cleared his throat, "I'm just tryn' to keep up our cover. We're meant to be in love, remember?"

"I think you're just going soft on me, Rapp."

You heard a grumble in reply and it made you smirk, his voice hiding as it fell gently into the collar of his jacket, "Whatever."

Navigating through the crowds was becoming more difficult, regardless of the tight grip Mitch had on your hand. You weren't sure whether it was to keep you close so you wouldn't get lost, or as a means to make you both move faster, but he wasn't planning on letting go anytime soon.

A familiar crack of static buzzed in your earpiece as the line opened, and you were greeted once more by your handler's voice with further direction. "We're close to your location, he's gonna run outta road soon so wherever this fucker is going, it can't be too far away. Stay vigilant, don't blow your cover."

You and Mitch replied with brief acknowledgment, your surroundings shifting to a smaller space down a city backstreet. Your mission had taken a turn the moment you left the gardens of the Eifel Tower, but you needed to make the best of a bad situation. No matter how frustrating it may be - and if it meant following a dangerous firearm trafficker through the heart of a love festival, then so be it.

The further he went, the less people there were to get in your way. It was a bittersweet concoction of keeping your eyes on him more clearly, versus his prevalent possibility of catching you out. Your target's paranoia was bubbling to the surface as his gaze flickered between the incoming messages on his phone and his surroundings. He was on edge, waiting with anticipation, searching for something. It was as if he could read your mind as he peered over his shoulder with the sceptical feeling that he was being watched.

Mitch swore as he pulled you to the side, avoiding the other man's eyes for a mere moment as he hissed toward you, "Kiss me. Now. Quick."

"What -"

"Kiss me."

You looked at him in confusion and it made your partner's eyes roll before his hands cupped your cheeks. They were splayed over your skin, warm and surprisingly soft, the perfect cradle for when he pressed his lips so carefully against yours. Mitch didn't want to scare you - knowing damn well that you would either kiss him back or sock him for his advances. Luckily, you found comfort in his taste and touch, and it took nothing more for you to melt into his tenderness.

Kissing Mitch wasn't on your cards for today, and you never would've thought that you'd be standing with your arms dangling around his neck, his fingers pressing gently against your jaw as his lips slid and licked with your own. For someone who was losing his patience earlier in the day, Mitch was taking all the time in the world to have you in his grasp. Holding you carefully. Cherishing your lips.

"Have you still got eyes on him?" Stan's voice sounded muffled as you poured every ounce of attention into Mitch. It was white noise, along with the music flowing from the local bands and the chatter of citizens moving around you. "Rapp, Y/L/N. Have you got eyes on the goddamn target?!"

Mitch jumped back slightly - lips still pursed, eyes fluttering as if he was waking up from a dream. He had never looked so at ease, until Stan's words finally caught up to him and his attention shifted to where the target was once standing. Where he was, no more.

Your eyes widened, locking with the honey brown of the man beside you. It was in unison when you both groaned, realization hitting that you did in fact, not, have your sight on the target.

"Fuck."

#dylan o'brien #dylan o'brien x reader #mitch rapp #mitch rapp x reader #american assassin #mitch rapp fic #mitch rapp imagine #dylan o'brien fic #dylan o'brien imagine #valentines24

[xo-cod]

could you write something soft and fluffy with price 🤍🫧

of course! i love my husband :") <33

"come here" you patted the space next to you on the bed and john followed, sitting beside you as he handed you his palm. he was fresh out of the shower after yet another gruelling mission, thankfully everything had gone well for the most part. him and his team were left with a few injuries.

though he would've been content just sticking a bandaid on it and calling it a day, you worried for his health. you gently hold his bigger hand between your warm ones, his skin was already beginning to blister and it looked painful, he tried not to show it but you could tell, you always knew.

"s'not that bad, sweetness" he chuckles tiredly, leaning his head against the headboard as he looks to you. truthfully any and all pain in his body seemed to vanish when you were near, he couldn't care less over some burn mark. not when his beauty was sitting so close to him

"to me it is" you playfully roll your eyes, taking the first aid kit from the drawers next to you. delicately, you clean the debris from his wound with a pair of sanitised tweezers. your fingers take great care not to hurt him even more,

all the while john just simply gazes at you with nothing but tenderness and adoration. his heart flutters in his chest at your concentrated look, finding it completely endearing how you took care of him so well. he always was the one helping people, it felt nice to be the other one for a change.

between your warmth and the the blankets of the bed, he's so very tired from the long day. all he wants to do was to hug and kiss you until your touch was burned into his skin, until the tender ache in his heart was quenched by you.

he settled for leaning his head against your shoulder, tucked right under your neck. it makes your head strain slightly but you dare not move, not when he was so comfortable in your grasp. his locks tickle your cheeks and his beard rubs against your shoulder but it's comforting to know he he truly was, back in your arms, back home safe

"are you okay?" he hadn't even realised you were done, already tightening the bandage securely over his palm. it elicited a soft hiss from him and you quickly pull it a little back, making sure it was snug but not restricting.

"i'm sorry" you grimace, gently touching his hand, rubbing your thumb over the bandage ensuring it was secure in its place.

"s'all right, can barely even feel it love" he smiles, wiggling his fingers making you chuckle. he holds your palm, opening your fingers to place a soft yet intimate kiss to the middle and then resting his face for a few seconds until his warm eyes meet yours again. it makes your heart ache for the man, how much you loved every part of him, how much you'd do for him.

"you're so silly" you gently laugh, pecking his forehead while you cleaned the supplies off from the bed. a soft grin falls on his lips at your words, he hadn't expected to fall so hard for another person. he hadn't expected to ever open his heart up for another and yet the little world shared between you both was something he now couldn't live without. it was his sanctuary, his safe haven.

something that gave him comfort when he was deployed and something that kept him hoping during the hard days.

you turned to place the first aid box back its rightful place but price holds you and gently rests his chin back on your shoulder. his arms come around your waist, lazily resting around your hips. you turn around in his grasp and see your lover giving you one of his beautiful smiles, leaning in to kiss your lips with such a ferocity it sets your soul on fire. you both share a cherished moment in your fleeting world, resting your foreheads softly against ome another.

no words needs to be shared in this moment, you feel everything he could ever possibly say with the way he looks and holds you <33

#asks #john price #john price x reader #john price x reader fluff #john price x you #john price x y/n #cod mwii #call of duty modern warfare

[cherryrainn]

☽ ༚  ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰  ༵ ༚ ༵ ۰ ✧ ۰ 

— embrace of the spider

miguel o'hara cuddle headcanons

miguel is not initially the most physically affectionate person, given his guarded nature.

when miguel cuddles, he tends to keep his arms wrapped securely around you, providing a sense of protection and safety. his touch is firm yet gentle, his fingertips tracing soothing patterns along your back.

he appreciates the warmth and comfort of cuddling, finding solace in the closeness and the feeling of another person's heartbeat against his own. it helps him let his guard down and allows him to temporarily escape the weight of his responsibilities.

miguel secretly craves affection and emotional connection. cuddling provides him with a space to express vulnerability, allowing him to feel accepted and loved without fear of judgment.

miguel enjoys running his fingers through your hair or lightly stroking your cheek while cuddling. these gentle gestures serve as a way for him to show his affection and care, even if his words may not always express it.

he appreciates the quiet moments during cuddling, relishing in the stillness and the shared presence with the other person. it's a chance for him to escape the chaos of his world and simply exist in the peaceful embrace.

sometimes, miguel may bury his face in the crook of your neck, finding comfort in your scent and the closeness of your body. it's a vulnerable act for him, as it exposes his need for intimacy and connection.

miguel is an excellent listener, and while you cuddle, he pays close attention to the details of your day or any worries that may be on your mind. he's there to provide a listening ear and offer words of support and comfort.

despite his busy schedule, miguel always makes time for cuddling. whether it's a quick cuddle session in the morning before he swings off or a long, leisurely cuddle on the couch during a lazy evening, he prioritizes these moments with you.

he loves to pepper your face and neck with gentle kisses, each one filled with adoration and affection. his lips leave a trail of warmth wherever they touch, eliciting soft sighs and contented smiles.

sometimes, after a particularly exhausting day, miguel might fall asleep while cuddling. his breathing steadies and his grip around you relaxes, but he remains a steadfast presence, providing a sense of security even in his slumber.

on colder nights, miguel enjoys cuddling under a cozy blanket, creating a little cocoon of warmth and tenderness. he holds you tight, ensuring that you're shielded from the chill and surrounded by his comforting embrace.

miguel enjoys cuddling in various positions, depending on the mood and level of comfort. sometimes you'll find yourselves spooning, with miguel as the big spoon, his body molded against yours. other times, he may lay his head on your chest while you run your fingers through his hair.

miguel has a knack for finding the coziest spots in the house for cuddling. he might lead you to a snug corner on the couch with plush pillows or suggest snuggling up in a nest of blankets on the floor. no matter where you are, he transforms the space into a haven of comfort.

miguel's voice has a soothing quality that intensifies the calming effect of cuddling. he often whispers sweet words or hums soft melodies as you rest together, creating a tranquil ambiance that helps you both relax and unwind.

if either of you is feeling sad or overwhelmed, miguel's cuddles become a safe space for emotional release. he'll hold you tightly, allowing you to cry or vent, and he'll offer words of comfort and understanding without judgment. his presence alone is a source of solace during difficult times.

he appreciates the simplicity of silence when cuddling. sometimes, there's no need for words or deep conversations. just being together, sharing a peaceful silence, is enough to reaffirm your connection and create a sense of tranquility.

he loves surprise cuddles. he'll sneak up behind you when you least expect it, wrapping his arms around your waist and burying his face in your neck. the sudden embrace never fails to make you feel loved and cherished.

a big fan of cuddling outdoors. whether it's a cozy evening under the stars or a lazy afternoon in a hammock, he enjoys the fresh air and natural surroundings while snuggling up with you. it adds an extra touch of adventure and romance to your cuddle sessions.

#miguel o'hara #y/n #reader insert #x reader #fluff #cuddles #headcanons #spiderman #across the universe #into the spider verse #spiderverse #spiderman 2099

[spnexploration]

Pack chapter 18

Pairing: Alpha!Dean Winchester x Omega!Reader, Alpha!Sam Winchester x Omega!Madison

Series summary: Omega!Reader is thrown into a world she's not expecting when her mate turns out to be a hunter, and she's not used to Alpha & Omega Pack dynamics.

Chapter summary: The reader learns a number of things about her new life.

Chapter warnings: smutty conversations

Word count: 1.7k

A/N: The link for chapter 17 wasn't working in the masterlist, which I've just fixed now. So you might need to double check you've read that one first, sorry!

Series masterlist | Supernatural writing masterlist

Part 17 <- -> Part 19

“She’s so cute when she sleeps,” I heard Madison whisper as I was just waking up.

“Shh, Madi, you're as quiet as an elephant,” Dean whispered back, a lot quieter. There was fondness in his voice and I felt the rumble of his chest through my back.

“Nyaw, I just can't wait, I'm so excited for you,” Madi answered, quieter this time. I still hadn’t opened my eyes, not wanting to be awake yet.

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Dean answered. I started to doze back off, content in Dean's arms while he spooned me.

---

A while later, but I don't know how long, I awoke to Dean stroking my cheek, “Time to wake up, little one.” I groaned, and he chuckled. “Not a morning person, are you?”

“Like you are,” I grumbled.

“Touché.”

I started to shuffle around, stretching my various muscle groups. I suddenly realised that in the process, I had been grinding my butt into Dean's lap, and could now feel him getting harder.

“Sorry,” I squealed.

His answering chuckle was low and deep and felt like it went right through me. I felt my undies start to get wet with slick. Dean’s large hand slid down my side, coming to cup my hip and bum. He rubbed circles through my pyjama shorts, spreading warmth.

I suddenly realised, looking around and behind Dean in panic. “Where's Madi?”

“She got up a while ago. Don't worry, Y/N, I'm not going to start sexy times when there’s another Omega in our bed. Or an Alpha or Beta, for that matter.”

“But you are trying to start sexy times?”

He chuckled again. “Well, maybe not full-on sexy times. But we can cuddle, and we can-” He was cut off by a loud crash from elsewhere in the bunker.

“Shit,” he exclaimed, launching himself out of the bed, grabbing his gun from the bedside table and running for the door. “Stay here,” he ordered me on his way out.

I pulled my knees to my chest. Originally I hadn’t been too concerned, but Dean’s reaction had me worried.

He was back a minute later. “Sorry sweetheart, it was just Madi accidentally knocking over things in the pots and pans cupboard. She’s making breakfast though, so that’s a bonus.” He seemed to look at me more closely, “You ok?”

“Just… most people hear a crash of pots and call out ‘You ok?’ They don’t go running out with a gun in hand.”

“The bunker is very, very secure. But it’s not 100%. And I’d rather be wrong 99 times that it wasn’t a threat, then be lax on the one time it was.” He came closer and rubbed his wrist on the side of my neck, putting the gun down on the bedside table again. “But I’m sorry I scared you, little one.”

“I’m ok, just… It reminded me of you getting shot,” I said quietly, not looking at his face. “That I hadn’t thought that the hunt was a problem and then it really, really was.”

Dean sat next to me on the bed and put his arm around me. I leant my head on his shoulder. “Y/N, I know this has been an awful lot for you to adjust to. And the worst timing for me to get injured, too. I don’t want to lie to you and say we don’t get injured, because we do, but it’s not usually like this.”

“Yesterday you said you’d died.”

“Uh, yeah. Umm, I did a deal once with a demon to save Sammy, and then hellhounds came for me when the time was up. And another time I died a tonne but I don’t remember it, because there was an angel who was trying to mess with Sam so he groundhog day-ed him about me dying. And I guess a couple of other times I technically died but it was so that I could talk a Reaper, and every time I did that, I had someone ready to revive me.”

I stared at him, jaw open. He looked sheepish.

“Umm, sorry, I’m trying not to scare you but I also thought it was important for me to be really honest…”

“I appreciate the honesty, but holy fuck! How are you still here? How did you get out of the hellhounds?”

“I, uhh, I didn’t. I went to hell. Then Cas, an angel who is now our friend, got me out of there because Heaven had this big plan for Sam and me about the apocalypse. But don’t worry, we fixed it.”

“You went. To hell. You just went. To hell.”

He shrugged. “I don’t normally talk about it…”

“Oh, shit, sorry. Am I being really insensitive?”

“No, sweetheart, it’s fine. You have a right to know what you’re signing up for.”

“This feels like that Lord of the Rings meme, ‘One does not simply walk into hell’.”

He smiled, “Something like that.”

“So are you just particularly accident-prone or is this all hunters?”

“Well, Sammy’s died a bit too, but Madi hasn’t. And most hunters don’t. And most hunters don’t have Heaven and Hell messing with them about an apocalypse, but that’s all over now. No more dying, no more apocalypses.”

“How do you know?”

He looked thoughtful, and then depressed. “I guess I don’t.”

“Oh.”

“Shit, sorry, sweetheart, I feel like I keep fucking up these conversations and leaving you scared.” He took my hands in his and looked deep into my eyes, “I will keep you safe, you have my word.”

“And who keeps you safe, Dean Winchester?”

The mock swagger came back, “Dean Winchester’s all anyone needs.” I laughed. “I guess Sam’s pretty good, too,” he conceded with a smile. “Come on, Madi’s probably finished cooking the bacon by now.”

---

“So, umm, I heard that when you've found your mate, your heats get worse...” you said awkwardly, hovering near the door of the library. Madison was inside, sitting at the table. Dean was, thankfully, somewhere else.

Madi quickly closed the book and gave you her full attention. “Didn't your mother ever tell you what to expect? Or an aunt or someone?” she asked gently.

“When I said my family are Betas, I meant literally, my whole family are Betas. It was a bit of a... thing when I presented as an Omega. But then when, you know, Prince Charming wasn’t very forthcoming, I never bothered to do much investigation. I didn't think I'd ever need to know it, you know? And then when I met Dean I thought I'd just wing it, but then Dean's rut happened without my heat and now it feels like the whole Pack is relying on my heat doing what it's meant to, and I realised I don't even know what it's meant to...”

“Ok, wow, hun, you ain't Atlas, you don't need to take the weight of the world.” I smiled weakly at her joke. “You are Dean's mate and a member of the Pack even if you never have another heat in your life. However, I'm also sure you will go into heat on schedule so I am here to answer all of your questions. I'll be an advice column like in a magazine!”

She stood up and came around to where I was. “Ordinarily I would suggest alcohol for this, but it’s 10am and Dean is a boring square who might kill me if I get you drunk before midday. So instead, we’re getting junk food and chick flicks.”

I stared at her, bewildered. She was taking this far further than I had expected. She grabbed my hand and led me to the kitchen. She loaded a bag with snacks and then walked out again, calling out “Deaaan, where are you?”

He called back that he was in the laundry, so she led me there. He turned to look at the door as we walked in, halfway through loading the washing machine. “What's up?”

“We're going to have some girl time, don't come into the Dean Cave. You'll ruin my job of corrupting your mate if you do.”

“Ok, have fun,” he chuckled. Then he looked at me and said, “Squirt her with a spray bottle if you need to.”

Madi tugged me away, leading to the Dean Cave. “Ok,” she said when we were away from Dean's hearing. “Yes, your heat gets worse when you've found your mate. It's probably because of all of that weird hormone stuff Sam tried to tell me about after you saw the doctor, but I stopped listening to him. How do you normally cope?”

“Cold face washers, sleeping under only a sheet, drinking ice water.”

“And toys, right?” she said with a wink.

“Umm, not really. It's such a stereotype that you need to orgasm to get through heat.”

She was staring at me incredulously.

“What? It's not like I never do it... Just, only when I want to...”

“Ok, wow. I don't think I even knew any Omegas who would have tried getting through a heat without at least a vibrator and probably a fake knot. It's like permission to just go crazy for a few days and no one asks any questions.”

“I, uh, don't have one of those...” I mumbled.

“A vibrator?”

“No...”

“Y/N,” her voice had changed to be more gentle, “have you ever taken a knot?”

I squirmed and shook my head, not looking at her.

“Haaaave you had sex?”

“Yes, God, it's not like I was 'waiting’ or anything. I just... Alphas are usually pricks, you know? I dated a couple of Betas.”

“Oh, I feel you on the pricks, my ex was such a douche in the end. And there was this creepy guy across the hallway who was obsessed with me, I actually met Sam when he saved me from him. I thought Glen was harmless until then.”

“Oh wow.”

“Yeah, but luckily we found the only two good Alphas, hey? Hot, strong, not usually assholes, and if Dean's anything like his brother, great in bed!”

I felt my face getting hot and fidgeted with the zip of my jacket. Madi laughed.

“Alright, open book, ask me anything you wanna know.”

“Umm, well...

.

.

.

Taglist:

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@lyarr24

@waynes-multiverse

@leigh70

@malindacath

@ellie-andthemachine

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@babygirl-one-and-only

@leila22rogers

#alpha!dean winchester #alpha!dean winchester x omega!reader #dean winchester x reader #a/b/o #protective!dean winchester #protective!sam winchester #alpha!sam winchester #supernatural fanfiction #spn fanfic #dean winchester x you #supernatural x reader #supernatural reader insert #spn a/b/o #dean winchester hurt/comfort #sam winchester hurt/comfort

[ghostofskywalker]

i know it’s only thanksgiving… but i’m in a christmas mood!!! is it possible you could write a bit where reader is “snowed in” with the batch? (hunter is the reader’s bf perhaps🤭) thank you so much!!

hi! i deeply apologize for this being sooooo late, but i loved your prompt! i hope you enjoy this :)

words: 1,001

summary: you and the batch are stuck on a planet for longer than you intended when it starts to snow unexpectedly. thankfully, hunter is there to keep you warm.

clone troopers masterlist

The Weather Outside Is Frightful

It was stupid for you to think it only ever snowed on Hoth, but you had never really traveled the galaxy before, so you had to cut yourself some slack. Because hey, Tech didn’t know the weather was going to be like this either, and he knew everything. Or, at least you thought he did.

The Havoc Marauder was currently parked on the outskirts of a forest on a planet you didn’t remember the name of, and large snowflakes had started to fall from the sky just over two hours ago. They didn’t seem dangerous when you looked at them, but it would clearly be impossible to try and pilot the ship out of this planet’s atmosphere without taking your lives in your hands, and so you were all stranded for the time being.

At first, you had been enthralled by the sight of it all. Your home planet had never seen snow, and Coruscant was too industrialized to sustain snow for long periods of time. You sat in the cockpit of the ship with Omega and stared out the window as the ground slowly disappeared under a blanket of white.

Then, it had gotten a bit annoying. It was cold, and while logically you knew that snowflakes weren’t going to feel like the summer sun on your skin, the first time you stepped outside, the chill bit its way right through your clothes and into your bones. You were all taking turns guarding the ship (personally you didn’t think anything would happen, but you understand the desire for security when the entire group was made up of fugitives), and you dreaded the times where Echo would step back inside, shake the snow off his armor, and let you know that it was time for your shift.

As night approached, you were more than happy to crawl into bed and pull the blankets up over your body. Hunter was still going to be guarding the ship for another half hour, but until he returned to bed you tried to soak up all the warmth you possibly could. Your relationship was still a fairly new one, but you began sharing a bunk with him almost immediately, and overall you couldn’t be happier right now.

“You sure you’re going to be warm enough without your bedtime buddy?” Crosshair had jokingly teased you, a sly smile on his face. Tech had turned down the heat to conserve fuel, and you genuinely were worried about being able to keep warm, but you were not about to admit it. You loved the other members of the batch to death, considering them the brothers you never had, but they also were relentless in their teasing (of both you and Hunter).

You had raised your eyebrows at him in response. “Are you sure you’ll be able to be warm enough tonight with that cold heart of yours?”

You could Echo laugh at your joke from his bunk, and Crosshair just rolled his eyes, but you could see the beginnings of the smile pulling at his lips (that he was no doubt trying to hide from you). Both of you knew that anything you said to each other was all in good fun, so you weren’t really worried about him taking it the wrong way. It was essential to surviving the teasing that you also learned to bite back whenever possible, and now they almost expected you to respond with smartass comments of your own.

By the time Hunter finally slipped into bed beside you, you couldn't be happier. His arms wrapped around you, and he was slightly cold from being outside, but after a few minutes his body had adjusted to the inside temperature, and his warmth was enveloping you. It was downright unfair (especially in situations like this) that the clones ran warmer than nat-borns, but at the same time, you also were grateful that you had an excuse to cuddle with Hunter whenever you wanted.

“Do you think we’ll be able to get off this planet tomorrow?” you asked quietly as he placed the softest of kisses on your cheek.

“Yeah, I think the snow is slowing down,” he said. “Once it stops, we’ll get back out there.” You just nodded in response, your eyelids getting heavier and heavier, to the point where you couldn’t keep them open for any longer. The two of you fell asleep a few minutes later, your breaths evening out and syncing up as you snuggled closer to him.

***

“Aww, look at the lovebirds.”

“Shhh, you’ll wake them.”

“He’s right. I don’t want to deal with their lovesick glances this early in the morning.”

You cracked your eyes open and pulled your head up a little as you registered the voices in the room. The voices had come from Wrecker, Tech, and Crosshair (in that order), and Echo was nowhere to be found. Not a single one of them seemed to have noticed or heard your movement, and you had to bite back a laugh that would give you away.

Right as you were going to lay your head back down again, you felt Hunter shift beside you, and soon he was glaring at his brothers, arms still wrapped tightly around you. “Shut up,” he grumbled, voice still gravelly from sleep. “Or I’ll make sure to leave you on this planet when we take off.”

“Nice try, but we’re already in hyperspace,” Crosshair said. “You two slept through takeoff.”

You could now feel the subtle vibrations of the room that clearly indicated that the ship was in flight, and you were glad that you weren’t stuck on that planet for any longer. Hunter didn’t move, just heaving a sigh before responding to his brother. “Whatever, I’m going to go back to sleep.”

It wasn’t that you wanted to break free from his embrace, but it seemed that you wouldn’t be moving for a while either, and you just allowed yourself to fall back into dreamland with your lover’s arms around you.

- the end - 

#tbb hunter x reader #tbb hunter x you #sergeant hunter #sergeant hunter x reader #sergeant hunter x you #the bad batch x reader #hunter x reader #clone trooper x reader #clone wars fanfiction #tbb x reader #star wars #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #sergeant hunter x gender neutral reader

[thefact0rygirl]

I started my period and feeling down. Stuff at home isn’t great. My mental health isn’t great. Mama Vee I need some fluff with Fives and Rex. Cody too. He seems cuddly.

Oh no babes! I'm so sorry to hear that. Fluff isn’t my specialty, but I hope this brings you some comfort and things start to improve ❤️

shut up and hold me | arc trooper fives x afab!reader

Rating: T

Pairing: ARC Trooper Fives x AFAB!Reader

Warnings: menstruation, period symptoms (nothing graphic)

Given his ARC training, you didn't expect Fives to be a fusser. It's not that he worries all the time, just on occasion. Like when you start your period.

He doesn't like seeing you in pain, regardless of the reason. He'll do what he can to help. He rubs soothing circles over your lower back and refilling your hot water bottle. He's focused on your care, although not without his nervous ramblings.

“I know what’s happening physiologically. Obviously, I can’t relate on a personal level. Although one time I got kicked in the balls and Kix said that's the closest I'll experience to period pain but Kix also doesn't know so..."

He's a mission-focused worrier, so it shouldn't surprise you when he starts fluttering around your apartment after a long mission. You wanted to surprise him when he came home, but all your plans flew out the window when you saw the first spots of red in your underwear.

There is dull pressure building behind your eyes as you hear Fives stomping around your flat. Fresher to the kitchen to the living room, and back again to the kitchen.

"Let me get you some water. How's your stomach? I think you still have some pills. Are you hung—"

"Fives," Your voice is quiet, but firm enough to stop him in his tracks. He watches you with wide eyes, his hand still wrapped around a glass. "Just...shut up and hold me."

His eyes softened, the creases in his forehead smoothing as he looks down at his armor, "I haven't showered. I don't exactly smell like roses, sweetheart."

And it's probably true if the layer of dirt covering his plastoid is anything to go by. But you shake your head, extending an arm to make a weak, grabby gesture. "Don't care."

He nods, smiling at you with unfiltered adoration, before stripping off to his bodysuit. Trying not to disturb you too much, he nestles in between the couch cushion and you. Pulling you into his lap, he checks that your water bottle is secure between your stomachs before wrapping an arm around your neck.

Burying your nose in his neck, you inhale the smell the weeks of sweat, dirt, and body wipes. It should repulse you, push him towards your refresher with an extra bar of soap, but it doesn’t. It only causes you to nestle your nose against his neck, taking in another deep breath. Maybe the tightness in your abdomen is making you delusional, or maybe the warmth radiating off of Fives as you two lay intertwined, but you relax, the growing tenderness finally starting to lift.

You can feel Fives kiss your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head. "Better?"

You nod, your fingers gripping the top of his bodysuit. "Better."

#arc trooper fives x reader #arc trooper fives x you #arc trooper fives fanfic #fives x reader #fives x you #afab!reader #vee answers #anon #fluff is not my specialty but i hope this brings you some comfort

[maliciousblog]

Watching You ( Mark )

Lately you couldn't quite shake off the feeling of being watched. You couldn't quiet put a finger on what exactly or who caused this, but you always felt as if someone was watching you even in the privacy of your home.

After a point you just brushed it off as you being paranoid and went on with your day trying to forget the feeling of being watched.

You were headed for work. Living in the suburbs you had to take a short 10 minute walk to work through a relatively empty neighborhood. It didn't really bother you because you had been through here a hundred times and it was almost as if it was your muscle memory that was taking you to work.

As music blasted through your earphones you let your mind run.

Even though you had been trying to forget or rather ignore the feeling of being watched it never quite left you.

You even once gathered the courage to tell your boyfriend Eunwoo about it but he brushed it off as it ,just being you feeling paranoid after watching one too many horror movies.

But the thing was that it just was the feeling of being watched that made you feel worry.

Lately weird things have been happening to you, things you couldn't quite explain.

It started of from your things going missing none of which were particularly expensive like your hair brushes, clothes, underwear, lipstick small things that weren't worth enough for you to attribute it to someone stealing it.

You wouldn't just find things missing but also find things that didn't belong to you. Most of the time they were hidden in places you would least expect it. The most disturbing thing that kept happening were continuous phone calls from an unknown number.

Each time you picked up you would be met with silence and occasionally loud breathing from the other end. Each time the call came from a different number so there was no point of blocking the numbers.

You were pulled out from your train of thought when you heard a crunch behind you as if someone had stepped on a dry twig. You didn't want to turn back until you heard footsteps they sounded heavy as if they came from a man with boots. You started to quicken your pace. The footsteps behind you began to get louder.

You took this route everyday and you rarely see another person on the way. You started to panic. You turned back as you started to sprint and you saw a familiar silhouette of a man you couldn't see his face but you had seen him before quite a few times and he was getting closer.

You used every bit of energy you had in your body to push through trying to widen the gap between him and you.

You continued to sprint until you could see your office you rushed in and closed the building door to turn around to alert your coworkers but he was not there anymore. It was as if he vanished into thin air.

The whole day you were on edge feeling jumpy.

The slightly provocation and you were on the edge of your seat.

After a long day of work you decided to ring your boyfriend up to pick you up because you didn't want to walk back home alone.

But he didn't pick up which was rare it was about time he also got off work.

Your coworker told you that he would hire a cab for you since it would be safer and it was already pretty late.

You took the cab and reached home and made sure to lock all the doors securely.

You took a shower and walked into your dim lit bedroom to be greeted by your sleeping boyfriend huddled up in your covers.

You couldn't help but feel a little relieved seeing him there.

Careful not to wake him up you gently slid under the covers snuggling up to him.

Slowly drifting into sleep letting your body relax under the gentle warmth of the covers.

Letting your body sink into the gentle embrace of your mattress.

You let sleep take over.

You were woken up from the vibrating of your phone on the night stand.

You lazily picked it up bringing it up to your ear letting out a groggy hello.

You were met with the voice of your boyfriend on the other side of the line telling you that he was held up at work and would come home late asking you not to stay up.

If the man on the phone was your boyfriend

Then who was the man in your bed.

Your whole body froze as you felt his hot breath on your neck.

As his hand snuck up your neck closing in on it constricting your airflow until your vision started to blur and everything went dark.

When your vision started to clear you found yourself in a dark room. You tried to move but your limbs were held down by chains holding you in place.

Through a small window on one of the walls you could partially see the room.

It was small, it has paint peeling off the walls. The floor and walls had reddish brown stains that you convinced yourself was probably paint even though you knew otherwise.

You tried to scream for help but you scream just echoed back to you.

The sun had started to set and the little bit of light that was entered into the room through the window started to disappear leaving you alone in the dark.

You had no clue how long you had been here.

It had been days that felt more like months to you without water or food.

The cold making your bones hurt.

You felt the life from your body slowly drain away.

Maybe this was your end, you wanted to live but you weren't sure how much more longer you could hold on.

You heard the door to the room creak open. Light slowly seeping which was blocked by the body of your captor. Never in your entire life did you ever think that you would be happy to see him.

He walked up to you and unchained you gently massaging your sore wrists.

Picking up your worn out form as you clung onto him no longer wanting to even spend a single minute in the dark room as he carried you out of it.

#dark #dark fic #kpop #yandere #yandere fic #yandere kpop #nct drabbles #nct imagines #nct fic #nct dream #nct fanfic #nct 127 #mark nct #mark fic #dead dove do not eat #dead dove fic

[fallinallincurls]

Easy Like Sunday Morning

this originally started (like most fics) in my dms with @tonyspep and this is entirely for her!! we know ej wearing his glasses is a heavenly sight so i couldn’t resist writing this and it’s just the softest thing ever.

hope you enjoy!! feedback is always appreciated! xx

word count: 1.2k 

~~~~~

Slow mornings with EJ are a rarity to say the least. In the almost seven months that you’ve been dating, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve been able to roll over in bed and waste away the golden sunlight wrapped in each other’s arms. Usually, he’s up early at an ungodly hour for practice or you’re rushing out of the apartment in hopes of making it to the office on time.

But sometimes, to both of your delights, schedules line up and allow for the early morning to be spent together without any worries or expectations. 

Like today.

The soft patter of steady rain against the window panes pulls you out of your peaceful sleep. It’s still early, the clock on your bedside table reading 7:06 and the dim lighting revealing the sun is yet to rise and try to fight through the clouds. Eyes still heavy with sleep, you roll over to embrace the cozy atmosphere by cuddling up with your boyfriend.

Except his side of the bed is cold and empty. Not a trace of him to be found. 

A small huff escapes past your lips because you know Erik has today off. It’s Sunday. The team doesn’t have practice or a game for once and he turned down Nate’s invite to work out because he wanted to spend the time with you instead.

So where is he?

With a sigh, you relish in the warmth under the blankets for a few more minutes before getting up. You pull on a discarded button up of Erik’s, one that often finds its home on the floor after not being able to contain yourself anytime he wears the shirt. A smirk dances across your lips at the thoughts of how the single piece of clothing is responsible for the hours tangled up together in the sheets last night. Not that you’re complaining.

After securing a majority of the buttons, you wander down the stairs in hopes of finding the blue eyed, blonde haired man that has found home in both your heart and life. The house is quiet, nothing but the rain filling the silence which makes you even more curious. Erik almost never gets up early when it’s unnecessary, opting to spend the precious time snuggled up with you. 

But knowing him and his mischievous personality, he could be up to anything. Which is enough uncertainty for one morning. 

You rub the sleep from your eyes while rounding the corner into the kitchen after finding the living room empty. And that’s where you stumble across a scene that fills your chest with the purest form of adoration and sense of happiness like no other.

The Sunday paper is spread out across the dining room table, one particular page being read in detail by your boyfriend who is completely oblivious to your presence. A mug full of hot tea, that expensive stuff he insists on drinking just to prove to Nate that he can take care of his body, sits near his elbow. His dirty blonde hair is a tousled mess atop his head, strands falling over his forehead and into his blue eyes.

What gets you the most though, what steals your breath away and makes the world stop turning, is the fact that he’s wearing a pair of simple black glasses. The sight is new to you, not something you’ve seen over the seven months together. 

And you can’t explain how or why, but seeing him right here in this moment, makes you fall in love with him even more.

You’re the only one who gets to experience this. The only one who gets to see Erik so at peace and gentle, a total opposite to his presence the fans are used to on the ice. The only one who receives his love and relishes in the warmth of slow mornings with him. This Erik, the one in front of you right now, is yours. The man who has found a place in your life and heart. 

But no one, not another soul, gets to see or know him like this.

How lucky are you?

As much as you’d like to, and easily could, spend the next few hours admiring him, you have to ask the question sitting on the tip of your tongue. How have you been dating for this long already and haven’t seen him wearing glasses once? Not a single time before now.

“Hey babe? Where did the glasses come from?” 

“Good morning to you too,” He chuckles in response, an adorable smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He opens his arms as a silent welcome and you gently settle into his lap without a moment of hesitation. You press a soft kiss to his lips and you can feel Erik’s smile against yours.

“You didn’t answer my question.” You state pointedly, one hand tangling in his hair as your eyes remain locked with his gorgeous blue ones. “How have I never seen you wear glasses before, huh?”

EJ, much to your delight, blushes wildly under your gaze. The weight of such a simple question hangs in the air until he breaks the silence with a small laugh.

“I don’t really know. Wearing glasses means I’m old-”

“Hey!” You exclaim, playfully hitting his chest in pretend hurt. “I wear glasses too, you goof. In case you forgot.”

“I could never forget. Your glasses make you look even cuter than you already are. Like seeing you put them on in the morning or the way you squint just a little bit when you kiss me goodnight. That’s the cutest thing in this entire world, babe.” Erik starts, thumbs drawing small circles onto your hips. “But my glasses don’t have the same effect.”

A gasp slips past your lips at that. How can he think that’s true?

“EJ, baby, I hate to burst your bubble, but I think I love you even more with your glasses. Look at you!” You say with nothing but love, squishing his cheeks for a moment before kissing his nose. Erik rolls his eyes in affection, feeling his heart swell with each passing second. “Even if I only get this in the morning, please wear them everyday. For me?” 

He pretends to think about it as if it’s a hard choice to make. But this man would do whatever it takes to see you happy even if it means wearing his “old man” glasses more often.

“Sure, love, I’ll wear them every morning just for you.” Erik replies, a big grin blossoming across his face. You clap in excitement before kissing him deeply and trying to get even closer to him than you already are.

“Can we switch for a second? I wear yours and you wear mine?” That joyful laugh of his fills the air as he nods. Carefully, you pull his glasses off and replace them with yours, then repeating the same process for yourself. “Ohmygod, your eyes are worse than mine!” You giggle, trying to adjust to the new prescription.

“No way!” EJ exclaims, looking a little ridiculous in glasses that are too small for him. You can’t help but lean into him, laughing like nothing else matters in the world. Because right then, on a slow rainy morning wearing each other’s glasses for the fun of it, you know you can’t love anyone else more than you love Erik.

tagging some friends/mutuals who may be interested:

@tonyspep​ @happer08​ @eightmakar​ @comphyjost​ @jostystyles​ @stroopwaffle8​ @antoineroussel​ @equallyshaw​ @rosesvioletshardy​ @ilyasorokinn​ @2manytabsopen​ @suitandtys​ @laurenairay​ @kailyn-writes​ 

#erik johnson #erik johnson fic #erik johnson imagine #erik johnson blurb #erik johnson fics #erik johnson imagines #erik johnson blurbs #erik johnson x reader #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #fluff #erik johnson fluff

[anika-ann]

In the Name of Blood (S.R.)

Type: medieval/fantasy AU, sequel to In the Name of the King & In the Name of All That’s Holy

Pairing: knight Steve Rogers x reader   Word Count: 4700

Summary: The nights when your beloved knight is patrolling are always the longest for you miss him in your bed, you miss being in his protective arms.

Little do you know that tonight, you would need his protection more than ever.

Warnings: blood and violence, knife, women stuff, tooth-rotting fluff, language (+ one more thing, so read at your own risk because I cannot possibly say without spoiling this completely, I’m sorry…)

The dark of a night had swallowed the castle a long while ago and yet, the candles in your chamber flickered with light still.

When you looked closely, you could see a faint light from under your door too, as the halls were illuminated by a few torches; halls where two knights and several guards walked their nighty patrols, keeping the precious king and queen safe through the night, allowing the other residents of the royal residence to rest peacefully.

Not you, however; not tonight for the bed felt cold, whispering insistently of your husband’s absence.

You rarely slept well when Steven was away, may it be just outside your shared chambers, may it be that he was mere steps away several times throughout the night, only unable to walk in for his duty was to guard the castle, not you personally nor you bed.

You would toss and turn all night for you missed his warmth and his loving, protective embrace. Should all of the king’s army stand at your doorstep, it would not bring you half the feeling of security Steve’s arms did; and so you were losing sleep for another night.

It did not do your rest any favours that your mind was weighted with a secret you had yet to share your beloved. The strangest thing it was, this secret; for you despised not sharing everything with Steve. It was not just, it made for your chest feel tight and heavy and yet, worry tickled your stomach urgently at any time you dared to even think of speaking it. The very physical sensation made itself known again, causing you to roll over in hopes to distract yourself.

Vainly.

You huffed in frustration, sitting up as you could not bear it any longer. You stared accusingly at the darkened skies with stars so bright your weary eyes burned; they twinkled happily as if they were not the sole reason your knight you missed so dearly was not lying by your side.

Some might call your behaviour childish perhaps, some might call you clingy. Yet, ever since the fateful battle which Steven had not returned from at first – leaving you with a broken heart at the bottom of the pit of despair filling up with tears – your mind would always grew frantic at the thought of any danger, even within the castle walls.

You worried. You missed him. You needed him.

With determination, you swinged your feet over the side of the bed, ignoring the dizzy spell overcoming you for a brief moment; it was to be expected, you supposed, for you were exhausted and decided to wander around in the middle of the night in search of your knight nevertheless, in favour of speaking the words which weighted your heart and mind.

Slipping into your shoes, you helped yourself with a cup of water first, reaching for your shawl. The night was not cold by any means, you could tell as much, but without Steve keeping your warm, the room felt chilly and you believed so would the halls.

You barely took three steps towards the door when the sound of the tower bell cut through the night, causing you to nearly jump out of your skin in fright, your heart to stumbling in your chest.

The angry rings echoed through the walls, seemingly growing louder and louder as the castle came alive, commotion and noise echoing from various places; that was the bell raising alarm, guards and knights who had not duty for this night no doubt reaching for their weapons as they were rudely awoken from their slumber.

Meanwhile, you stood frozen, seized by fear of the unknown; and more so, fear for your husband. Why were they ringing the tower bell? What could have been happening? A foreign army at the gates, a fire in the castle, an intruder within the walls--- what if someone had been injured or worse, what if Steven-

You closed your eyes as a lump grew in your throat, stuffing your chest with dread. An icy fist squeezed your heart as a vision of Steve covered in blood, an image out of your most horrific and vivid nightmares, seized your mind mercilessly.

Gods, Lord, please, let him be alive and unharmed.

You gasped, your prayers coming to a halt as the door to your chamber was thrown open mere feet from you. Air stuck in your throat when an unfamiliar tall figure with a face obscured by his cape slipped in, kicking the door closed and standing face to face with you before you could as much as move a muscle.

Intruder within the castle it was then.

Intruder in your chambers.

With a knife, you observed with rising panic.

Before you could gather your wits, sucking in air to scream at the top of your lungs, the stranger grabbed you by your arm, spinning your around and pressing you to his front.

His arm wound harshly around your chest--- and the very blade of his weapon brushed your ribs, drawing almost a teasing line down your nightgown, the sharpness caressing the soft flesh above your abdomen.

His voice was rich, deep, yet it missed all the warmth you longed for whole night. No, it was as cold as the first snow instead, sending shivers of horror down your spine, the scent of death digging into your stomach.

“Quiet, Hausmädchen, or I’ll cut you fuckin’ open.”

Your blood turned into ice, all muscles tensing so tight it hurt. Darkness wrapped the edges of your vision as it blurred with tears, your prayers earning a sharper desperate edge.

No! Please, do not. Please, please, please, I am begging you. Do not--

“Please do not spill innocent blood,” you whispered hastily, choking on the last words as the knife pressed further under your breastbone.

You squeezed your eyes shut as the man spoke again, menacing, foreign hard accent bleeding through.

“There is not ONE innocent person walking this castle. No innocent blood.”

You inhaled shakily, hands curling into fists, heart hammering. Perhaps he was right; every single person walking the world was a sinner in one way or another – gods, Lord, who only knew.

Yet, you knew of existence of blood truly pure and innocent, as the very core of love; blood cursing through your body. Blood most precious. Blood you should lay your life for if only it had been possible.

And so you begged.

“Please.”

“I said, quiet!” he hissed, yanking you back, causing you to swallow the whimper clawing up your throat. “You do as I say and maybe I will let you live.”

Your chest ached under his cruel grip, under the assault of your own heart as it threatened to burst out through your ribcage. The knife had already torn through the fabric of your gown, just shy of cutting through your skin as well.

An instinct old as life itself screamed in your head for you wanted to live. You must live for your life was not only yours, people you loved depended on you, people who—

People you were obligated and determined to protect. And on this whole world, there was no thing you could think of at the moment that you would not do in order to do your part. Sinner or not.

You nodded then, reluctant, yet firm. You should do whatever should be necessary for it was your duty. You shall do whatever it took and more.

“Mhm. Pretty thing you are, so good…” he murmured, long fingers slipping through the neckline of your nightgown, caressing the soft skin of your breast, bringing fresh tears to your eyes. “Wouldn’t it be shame if I had to scar you? Swear you will be good for me, Hausmädchen.”

“I swear,” you whispered without hesitation as he twisted you both so you faced the door and he pulled you backwards harshly, forcing you to take several steps. You nearly stumbled over your own feet, catching onto the edge table in the last moment.

You gasped in realization, your instincts screaming louder. Unless you acted, you were to die. You were to die, but the gods blessed you with a single chance to save a life which mattered to them.

Yes, you had sworn, you had promised to be obedient and a promise was a sacred thing – words that carried a heavy weight, words that spoke no lies.

Your husband, a knight of Starkerbürg, never once in his life broke a promise – not to you at least.

Yet, you had made a promise far graver than the one of cooperation just now, even if you had not spoken that one out loud. And such was the promise you intended to keep. For love and duty; should you live a single day in Steven’s skin, you had imagined these were the words he thought when on a battlefield.

The moment the grip on you loosened the tinniest bit, the blade retreating barely an inch, you sprung into action.

You kicked the man’s shin as you grabbed his wrist and twisted it with all your might, causing him to cry out and drop the blade.

You were shoved to the ground, landing ungracefully on your hands, the burn and pain causing you to hiss, but you were not given with enough time to dwell on it.

Steven was willing to lay his life to protect every single person in this kingdom. You needed to protect considerably less yet you would do so with fervour which equalled one of a lioness.

Despite the nausea hitting your stomach, you forced yourself to your feet quickly, grasping after the bowl of grapes on the table. You grabbed it firmly just as the man lunged after you once more, the knife in his unharmed hand, springing forward.

You knocked a chair over as you attempted to evade the blade unskilfully and tried to smash the bowl against the man’s head with fervour at the same time. Your improvised weapon barely connected and yet, the crash was deafening to your ears as the ceramics broke into pieces, cutting through his temple.

His body hit the ground with a heavy thud, limbs turning lax, fingers releasing the grip on his knife.

Your shaky knees gave out and you felt yourself falling, landing on your bottom by his side, the fall only slowed down by one of your hands – the other flew to your mouth just as a whine escaped your lips.

It was a miracle you did not cut yourself on the shards on your way down; however, even if you had, you would have had little care for it.

What was a small droplet of blood in comparison of what had been at stake?

You nearly jumped out of your skin when the mass of a man groaned, his fingers twitching minutely. The scream that rippled out of your throat was so piercing it battled the noise of the tower bells ringing still.

When the door to of the chamber crashed against the wall as someone kicked them in, you winced with horror and lost your breath altogether.

Steven stood in the doorway with his face white as freshly fallen snow, panting, gaze frantically searching the room until it landed on you and your unwanted companion.

“In here!” he yelled over his shoulder in a thundering voice, so loud and urgent you felt your heart tremble.

The man by your side grumbled once and in mere moment, Steven threw himself next to you, kicking the blade away, fist connecting with the man’s unharmed temple. The power behind the blow was brutal, easily three times stronger than your own; the intruder made no sound after that, his body growing entirely motionless.

The room fell into silence, filled with nothing but yours and Steven’s heavy breathing.

You had not realized your whole body was shaking until Steven’s hands gently clasped around yours, squeezing, traveling up your arm, framing your face as he stared into your eyes, his pupils blown with panic.

“Are you alright?”

Your lip wobbled as you felt tears rolling down your cheeks, the danger you had been in fully registered, as overwhelming as the relief; the salty droplets ran down, hot, seeping into his rough and yet so gentle hands.

“Are you hurt? My sweetling, please, tell me-“

“Is he dead?” you sobbed, escaping the prison of Steve’s sincere gaze to get a glimpse of the still unmoving figure.

Steve’s hands forced your head to turn back, his face covering your whole view as he leaned closer, obscuring your line of sight. You only heard Sir Barnes and others rush into the room, unable to flee the protective cage of Steve’s hands.

“I do not know. But as God is my witness, I do not give a damn if he is. Do not think of him, sweetling. Are you injured?” he demanded, pleaded, begged for a single yes you seemed unable to force past your lips.

“I hurt—I hurt him. I had to--- he- he-”

Steven gulped, completely ignorant to anyone else in the room as his gaze roamed your features frantically, settling on your eyes, serious and so sincere it made your racing heart ache.

“You had no choice. There is not one single thing wrong with what have done. I am glad that you did so, proud, relieved. It is alright, my love.”

“He is out cold. I do not suppose you are going to help-?” a male voice you could not recognize at the moment spoke, never finishing his question.

“No. Get him the fuck of my sight,” Steve spitted over his shoulder in response, quick to turn his attention to you.

You caught a glimpse of the man’s body being dragged away by three men still, the door to the room shut tight.

Steve’s voice was earning an edge of desperation as he repeated his question yet again: “My love, sweetling-- are you hurt?”

You understood what each of the word meant, you understood, in a far away place of your mind, that these words required an answer and yet, your lips spoke of their own volition.

“I was—I couldn’t--- my duty-“ you babbled, head spinning as the world appeared but a blur with how fast one thought of yours was pushed away by another, one insistent one returning with unshakable urgency.

Steven sighed in resignation and made to pull you into his arms – or attempted to, your hands propping against the floor in protest.

This is not the time for such thing, a voice inside your head spitted out, angrily almost, as the one thought nudged your mind once more, stubborn.  

The broken look on Steven’s face when you fought against his embrace would haunt you till the end of your days, the picture of misery and hurt enough to bring fresh tears to your eyes – but you were to remedy it later.

He did not understand, he could not understand, not truly, not yet, you had to explain, you had to tell him at last.

“I have not bled,” you said slowly, voice husky still for fear always left an echo.

So you said it, at last. The truth. The secret.

You were met with a confused expression of your husband until it morphed into relief, his pain from your rejection diminished for the time being.

“That is good, my love. No cuts, no blood. Are you in any pain nevertheless?” he asked kindly, thumb caressing your cheek.

You observed him for a moment, full of wonder as you could not fathom what was he asking. You only had been nauseous for the past few days, no pain even if you had heard that it was to be expected soon.  

But cuts? Why would you be cut? What did that have to do with--- oh.

Only then it dawned to you he had missed your revelation completely and remained focused on what had just occurred in these chambers. Yet, your mind was far far away, in moments when much more pleasant actions, if not the most pleasurable of all, took place. And these would bring fruit at last – fruit of innocent blood that had not been spilled for you had protected them.

A small smile tugged at your lips, leaving Steve entirely speechless and lost as to what was going on in your head.

Had you turned insane? Had the fear and the traumatic experience rendered you completely mad?

You covered his hands on your cheeks with your own, leading one to kiss his palm tenderly, his wide-eyed gaze following the movement.

“No, Steven. I… I had no other option but to hurt that man-“

“Yes, of course-“

“For it is my duty,” you whispered, caring little for his interruption, pulling at his other hand and placing it over your stomach to make him see and feel what could not be felt just yet, “to protect. I have not bled for two moons now.”

You knew one moon without bleeding occurred sometimes during sickness, emotional exhaustion or lack of food. But two moons? Two were significant – and you knew for certain you had not suffered either of other causes for you bleeding to cease. Natasha agreed too, confirming what you already knew deep down; hugged you close, wished you well and promised not to tell anyone until you felt prepared to share it with your husband.

You believed, firmly, that you were with a child.  

Your beloved stared at your abdomen for a few moments, as if not comprehending the meaning behind your words. Not understanding the secret you had been keeping from him, the only one ever.

And then he took a wavering breath and his eyes filled with tears, causing your heart to stumble and ache.

Oh no.

Was he… was he not happy? Was it as you had feared? You had been overjoyed upon learning, but perhaps… perhaps despite his words Steven was not as delighted at the thought of becoming a father? Had you known, in your soul, that he would not share your happy sentiment? Had you been instinctively saving yourself from grief when you had been keeping it a secret?

“Steve?”

His eyes slid shut as he gasped for several more breaths; he was the one shaking now, a few stray tears rolling down his cheeks, fingers gripping at the fabric of your dress over your belly.

“My love?” you whispered, barely audible, lump growing in your throat anew. “Are you… not happy?”

Steven’s eyes snapped open in an instant, his trembling hand caressing your abdomen with the tenderest touch, his gaze finding yours, his smile wide and wobbly through the tears.

“No, Lord no, that is not--- I apologize.”

His strong arms were fast to pull you into his lap, embracing your tightly – and this time, you let him for the secret was no longer a secret. There were no other urgent matters and so you allowed him to do what he craved; he nuzzled his face-- downright buried it in your hair, his chest expanding with a generous inhale, cradling your body gently, yet with enough force to not leave half an inch between you and him.

“I just--- I could have lost you today, sweetling,” he explained hastily in a hushed voice, kissing your scalp, dampening it with hot tears. “I could have—I almost lost both of you. And I would have never been the wiser. I could have lost not one, but two lives that are most precious to me and I would not even know,” he sobbed quietly, fingers digging into your flesh, sending a message on its own.

A prayer fell from his lips, one after another, over and over again, his lips brushing your hairline, your cheek, your nose and then your lips, declaring his love to you without words.

And so you understood. You understood more than you would ever want, for you too had felt this overwhelming fear, the same fear which has possessed you when the man pressed a blade against your body, so so close to where a new life born out of your and Steve’s love had begun to grow.

Never ceasing his prayers, he gathered you in his arms tightly, rising to his feet with ease and carried you to bed. He seated you down carefully and himself sliding on the floor, kneeling in front you.

“So you too are delighted at the news?” you inquired carefully, a small smile playing on your lips as your heart slowly filled with your now shared joy.

Steven looked up at you, blindly taking off the belt with his sword, clearly intending to join you in your bed. The look he graced you with was full of awe – undiluted awe and reverential love. He pressed a tender lingering kiss to your stomach, hands smoothing down your sides, and glanced up with the warmest albeit briefest of smiles.

“Yes, sweetling. There are no words to describe my happiness. Give me your hands, my love.”

Puzzled yet more than willing as your heart sing a joyful song, you allowed him to manoeuvre your hands to lay them in your lap, palms up. He earned a quizzical look upon his actions, even as your eyes brimmed with tears at his tenderness.

Upon learning you were with a child, you believed Steven was about to treat you not like a lady, but a princess even, like the most precious gem, like the most fragile antiquity. Yet, feeling his rough hands so soft and gentle, more than ever… your imagination could never hope to do it justice.

He squeezed your hands and then let go, reaching for the belt.

To your great surprise, he pulled out his sword from its sheath, bringing it between the two of you. Still gripping the handle firmly, he carefully grasped at the blade towards its end.  He proceeded with caution then as he lowered the sword and laid it to your prepared hands, causing your breath to hitch.

You did not understand the meaning of his gesture; yet you could feel the gravity of it.

“You are the one who would deserve to be knighted,” he spoke gravely, the look in his eyes losing none of its reverence, causing a choked noise bubble in your throat at the display of affection nearly morphing into worship. “My brave, brave wife…”

“Steven…”

He gulped upon hearing his name, shaking his head before you could continue, his warm palms landing gently just above your knees.

“I was not here to protect you today, and for that, I apologize. I shall carry the shame with me for the rest of my days and thank Lord and Gods for being with you for just as long.”

“My love, I-“ you spoke up, unsure of what you could possibly even say.

You did not need to say a thing and nor you were allowed to.

“I am you husband and I have already promised you my love, my loyalty, my protection, my heart, my body and soul… my fortune. I have nothing else to give you. So today I kneel in front of you out of the sheer respect and admiration I harbour for you, one which grows every day. I am yours.”

There was no stopping the tears no matter how many you had spilled this night already; Steven’s words, the truth of them shining from his eyes, they touched you deeply, filling your chest with pride and affection.

By Gods, you loved him. He was a servant of God and his King, he was a knight, but he was your knight; kneeling by your feet, declaring his devotion to you and your baby who had yet to see the light of this world... but Steven’s speech left no doubt that they would be the most loved and cherished of all children.

He continued as a quiet sob escaped you, spoke as if he could hear your thoughts.

“I have nothing else to give, but I promise you… I promise you I will give everything to you and to our child. You might be a maid to the queen, but you are the queen to my heart and I swear on my life our little one will understand that, for I shall prove it to you two every day.”

Heavens, how could you stop crying when Steven’s face shone so bright, a stray tear rolling down his cheek, glistening in the small dying flames of the candles. His love, your love, was palpable, it hovered in the air, turning is so thick you had trouble breathing.

“My love, will you forgive me?“

You scoffed despite yourself, hand twitching to dry your cheeks; you did not dare to, however, to release your careful grip of Steven’s sword still resting heavily in your palms.

“There is nothing to forgive, you could have not known-- gods, Steven…” You breathed in shakily, releasing the air slowly. “Is this how you should prove your love to me, to the mother of your child? By causing me tear up entirely-“

Steve’s face scrunched in apology, his next words rushed unlike his heartfelt declaration.

“Oh no, my sweeting, I am sor-“

“I’m jesting, I’m jesting, Lord, Steve,” you chuckled through your tears, pressing your lips together for no words could ever express how you felt at the moment. Happy, adored, overwhelmed, delighted—nothing seemed enough. “Yes, I believe you, I do forgive you, should that be what you long to hear. I appreciate all you just said, but I swear on my life, if you do not kiss me this very moment-“

He lunged forward, eager and careful as he grabbed the sword and tossed it aside with a clink, his neck guard chainmail following suit, causing you to chuckle and he kissed you with hunger and reverence at once, laying you to your bed, mindful of not putting all of his weight over you and here it was, the most fragile thing, precious antiquity, and so you giggled into his lips; they spread in a wide smile until he was laughing and rolling you over so you ended up on top of him, your whole face peppered with kisses instead of your lips whenever you needed air—he would let you have it, only to steal it all from your lungs again and again.

“I love you, my sweetling. They’re just words, but Lord, I mean them, I love you so so much,” he whispered to your mouth, little pecks to on your lips to taste your smile, allowing you to taste his in return.

“I love you too. And… the little one does not speak much yet, but… they already love you. We know you will be the best father in the whole kingdom… if not in the whole world.”

He drank from your mouth longingly, excitedly, speaking a language no one but you and him could understand between the words of a promise.

“Oh my love, my precious precious wife… I shall try. I shall try,” he said and your heart fluttered for you knew that when Steven gave his word, he stood by it.

The sky was still dark behind your windows, but the chamber felt bright. Too bright almost, too fragile to grasp it, you worried for a moment… yet, you did not want to taint the moment with fear. Not anymore.

For tonight, you remained safe, by both yours and Steve’s actions. If only he could stay…

“Would you hold me close for a little while?” you asked shyly as you looked down on him, kiss-swollen lips framed by his beard, eyes twinkling more than the stars themselves. “Or must you-”

“I must hold you close, love. Such is my only mission for the rest of the night.”

“Truly?” you doubted, silenced by a tender kiss, Steven’s fingers lacing in your hair to hold you closer indeed, taunting. In truth, you cared little for his other duties at the moment and should he feel the same… “I must say I quite like your mission, husband.”

By the look of it, gods, he shared your sentiments.

“And I like you, love you, both,” he added meaningfully, his smile growing brighter, if possible, softer. “Beyond words and anything else from this world.”

S.R. masterlist

Complete masterlist

Me: Just saying, you know, Steve could kneel, bow to her, it would be so cute and yet so meaningful-

Also me: Anika, HOW MANY TIMES have you watched Aragorn’s coronation? You know, the whole ‘you bow to no one’-- no I do not care it was platonic back then-

B-but… I just liked the idea so much? Someone of power bowing to those who deserve it but is rarely shown such respect? 🥺 So HOT to have man appreciate his woman??

Let me know if you enjoyed the (probably) last instalment of the (mini)series 💕 Thank you for reading!

P.S.- I will miss these two... (codename for: if you want, maybe keep an eye out for a drabble or something 🤭)

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #knight steve rogers #medieval au #fantasy au #steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfic #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america imagine #in the name of blood #anika ann

[littlexstarlightx]

@therabbitbehindtheslaughter cont from {x}

☀️ There was no warmth to be found in the dilapidated building. It was as if the atmosphere was always a foggy graveyard and in a way it was. Not another living person had been in here in several decades at this point aside from recently when the property was signed over to the gingers father for 'safe keeping'.

He was the new warden of this hell on earth.

She pulled the hood of her jacket down; a jingle of metal off the stiff cotton bunny ears that accented the soft black coat. This would help so that they could both get a better look at one another. He probably wasn't expecting such a small rescuer, and she wasn't expecting....what had she expected?

The grinding and squelching were unsettling, but it wasn't what set her on edge. Those cold eyes and his height. So tall. Pulling down her safety-pinned decorated face mask with bright pastel fingernails bright electric purple painted lips emerged.

"Yes, freedom. Don't worry I put some of the children down for a nap so we'll have to be fast~" She still didn't know where some of the other animatronics had gone in this hovel of a building but she was ready for whatever they had to throw at her.

Melissa couldn't get anything from her father about the last few decades. Not even her 'uncle' Henry would open up to her about the long-standing lore of their failing business chains. The young woman chewed her gum and blew a bubble flinching at the sound of the cough and the hard slam of the mechanical jaw.

That smell, however, was far more metallic than the rabbit himself. It was permeating in this dusty hole in the ground. The ginger was left to snap the face mask back into place the rainbow beads bouncing a bit as she did so. She would not breathe in the air down here more than she had to.

" You were pretty loud about it. Tall tale heart up in this rather quiet building. My father kept telling me that it was just the building settling.... bullshit. You're one noisy skeleton in his metaphorical closet...." The ginger pointed to the groaning joints of the dingy yellow rabbit.

More painful coughing, it was hard to believe he still had the lungs to do so but the ginger sighed and heaved the large worn leather satchel from her shoulder. It hit the ground with a cacophony of metallic noises.

Given it wasn't like the rest of the black and pastel barf fest on her it was safe to say it was work equipment. Pushing back the sleeves of her coat her wrists were then filled with beaded bracelets. Pulling out some rubber gloves the women then produced pliers and a flat head screwdriver.

"Here, let me help you with that really quick. It will be one release from that constant pain." Melissa stepped forward with her platform shoe not giving her too much height to counter his. He'd have to keep his head bowed for her to work the ring to a looser fit.

"From here, I'll take you in my van to the safe house. I own a studio apartment ....once an old factory ....so no more small spaces for you. We have to move quickly I'm sure that other then the other security measures my absence has been noted..." Even at her age her father would 'ground' her and she'd come so far to find the 'yellow rabbit' only whispered about.

"Oh...before I get overly handsy...I should introduce myself. I'm Melissa. You can just call me Missy though if it's too hard to talk ...I understand it has to be difficult and a lot of work. You don't have to humor me...." An odd child that was for sure but at least polite. 🌙

#therabbitbehindtheslaughter #//hope you don't mind me moving it ~ #also HELLO~! <3

[maracujatangerine]

25. Lost Property

CW: institutionalised slavery, dehumanisation, box boy universe, pet whump

Previous - Next

Coriander was kneeling next to Linden’s chair on the balcony. The morning sun touched their faces with gentle warmth, and glinted on the detritus of a demolished breakfast. Linden took another sip of his masala chai, enjoying the milky sweetness and the scent of cardamom and cloves.

Cory was also sipping his tea, cupping both hands around the warm cup. It made Linden feel bittersweet, seeing how effortlessly Cory could use his hands.

“I do this with Col, you know. Sit on the balcony together. It’s pleasant… he likes the sunshine a lot. And I like the view.”

“It’s very nice, Sir. So much birdsong.”

Linden smiled. “Yes. Do you and Lydia often, um, spend time together like this? Just enjoying your surroundings?”

He had never felt more awkward in his life. Making conversation with a borderline stranger was tough at the best of times, but for once, Linden didn’t feel as if he needed to subtly interrogate Cory- to try and worm some evidence of Lydia’s sadism out of him. No, he just wanted to get to know the man a bit.

Cory’s eyes unfocused as he visited a memory in his head. “Miss Lydia has a garden, Sir. When the weather is good, we sit out there together.”

“That sounds nice. Do you like it?”

Cory paused. “Y-yes, Sir. This pet does.”

“I’ve only had Col for a few months, but I’ve been doing my best to make him feel safe. Secure. What… what makes you feel safe, Cory?”

Linden had no idea if that was a question Coriander would be able to answer. He might have pushed too much, but- a memory of Lydia taking Colton to the conference flashed through his brain. Cory was surely more stable, if Lydia had intended to take him?

There was another pause. Linden looked out over the town. There was a pair of teenage girls standing at the bridge, throwing sticks into the river. Seeing which one travelled through the water faster.

“Miss Lydia… takes the time to tell this pet things. Before they happen. Uh-” he shook his head slightly, as if trying to shake the right words into the right order. “She tells this pet when someone is coming over, or if something is going to hurt. It’s- it’s more than this pet deserves, of course. It would never expect this treatment, but…”

“It’s alright, Cory.” Linden tried to keep his voice calm and friendly. “You don’t have to worry. I just want to hear what you think. There’s no wrong answer, I promise.”

Coriander swallowed hard, his voice shivering, but he pressed on.

“Miss Lydia, s-she keeps her promises. If - if she says that something is going to happen, then it usually does. S-she is very kind to this pet, and… and patient.” He looked nervously up at Linden. “And she asks for this pet’s opinion.” He said the last in a hushed voice, as if he was admitting something elicit. “That… that was very hard at first… but now this pet kinda likes it.”

He looked down, cascading blonde hair covering his eyes. In a small voice he continued.

“A-and she touches this pet.” At Linden’s sharp intake of breath, Cory shook his head, aghast. “Not like… not like that, Sir. Miss Lydia doesn’t do that. B-but she often pets this pet.” Awkwardly, he pulled a hand in a caress over his own hair. “Or… or hugs it. S-she is affectionate.” At that Cory looked straight into Linden’s eyes, as if daring him to contradict his description. After a brief moment of bravery, he lowered his gaze again.

“That’s wonderful. Thank you! Thank you, Cory. That…” Linden leant back in his chair. “I’m so happy to hear that.”

Patience, and affection, and speaking. Linden was delighted that he had been on the right track, more or less.

He hoped- no, he knew- that Col could be like Cory one day. Opinionated, and trusting and… dexterous.

He wouldn’t want Col to be too similar, of course. Linden was excited to find out more of what Colton’s personality really looked like.

Each separate thought ran through his head, pushing for his attention. He felt both hopeful, and overwhelmed.

“I’ve never given Colton a hug,” he blurted out, the realisation hitting him. “I’ve been too worried that it would scare him. But he likes it when I pet his hair, or hold his hand. Maybe I should offer him a hug.”

“T-this pet couldn’t say, Sir.”

-

Coriander briefly considered telling Linden that Colton had spoken well of him, back at the hotel. But it was every pet’s duty to be loyal to their master, and Linden surely knew that already. It wouldn’t mean anything to him, except alert him to the fact that the two pets had been speaking together, unattended, about their owners.

At present, Linden was smiling up at the sky. Cory allowed itself a small measure of pride, at having answered such a broad question well.

Tag List Part 1: @cupcakes-and-pain @whump-em @wh-wh-whu @neuro-whump @carnagecardinal @cowboy-anon @whump-me-all-night-long @redwingedwhump @myst-in-the-mirror @haro-whumps @eatyourdamnpears @bloodsweatandpotato @pinkraindropsfell @whumptywhumpdump @theydy-cringeworthy @whump-in-progress @whumpsy-daisy @nicolepascaline @whumpcreations @briars7 @shiningstarofwinter @whumppsychology @alex-ember @miss-kitty-whumptastic @whumpy-writings @in-patient-princess @youtube-fandoms-bands @goblinchildindabog @mazeish @distinctlywhumpthing @inpainandsuffering @canniboylism @incoherent-introspection @kim-poce @broken-typewriter @the-monarch-whumperfly @whumpers-inc @grizzlie70 @lil-whumper @writingbackwards @sunflower1000 @wingedwhump @thecitythatdoesntsleep @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @onlybadendings @rabass @wolfeyedwitch @melancholy-in-the-morning

#lost property #lydia and coriander #lydia and linden #linden and colton #pet whump #whump fic #caretaker #recovery whump #rescue whump #pet whumpee #bbu #box boy #box boy universe #box boy multiverse #box boy whump #original writing

[republicsecurity]

Merman

AI: "Wake-up sequence initiated, RE440. Incoming messages from encrypted channel, priority level 3."

RE440, roused from his digital slumber, acknowledged the AI's prompt. The dimly lit alcove gradually filled with ambient light as the visor transitioned from blackout to transparency.

AI: "Messages from M132X, LifeGuard stationed aboard the Rescue Cruiser, designation Nils Randers."

RE440, a seasoned Enforcer, opened the encrypted channel, connecting to the LifeGuard's outpost in the eastern sea. The visage of M132X materialized on the HUD, his yellow-armored silhouette suggesting the formidable presence of a LifeGuard.

M132X: "Greetings from the abyss, RE440! How's the landlocked duty treating you?"

RE440, in his stoic demeanor, responded, "Same old routine, M132X. The streets keep their secrets."

M132X: "Ah, the city shadows. I'm surrounded by the endless waves here. Rumor has it there's something stirring beneath, but the fish aren't talking."

RE440: "The deep-sea mystery, a classic. Any mermaids spotted yet?"

RE440, raising an eyebrow beneath the armored visor, responded to M132X's playful remark.

RE440: "Merman, you say? I thought you were into the mystery of the abyss, not the shallow waters."

M132X, with a mischievous tone in his voice, replied, "Well, you've got the mystery part right. Besides, I've heard Enforcers like their mysteries deep and dark."

RE440, feigning indifference, remarked, "You're diving into dangerous territory with those puns, M132X."

M132X, laughing through the helmet vocoder, added, "Speaking of diving, remember that inter-service retreat? The one where we ended up cuddling like old friends?"

RE440, a hint of nostalgia in his voice, acknowledged, "How could I forget? The unlikely camaraderie of Enforcer and LifeGuard, sharing stories by the fire."

M132X: "And if I recall correctly, we weren't just sharing stories. It was more like snug inside our respective armored suits."

RE440, a metallic chuckle resonating through the comms, conceded, "I suppose even the toughest of us need a moment of warmth. Who would've thought armored suits could be so cozy?"

RE440, a metallic chuckle resonating through the comms, conceded, "I suppose even the toughest of us need a moment of warmth. Who would've thought armored suits could be so cozy?"

M132X: "And when we shed the armor and just lay under that sleeping bag together, the chastity cages unlocked... it was like a brief escape from the rigors of our duties."

RE440, a nostalgic hum in his voice, replied, "True. For a moment, it was just two conscripts, free from the weight of regulations and expectations."

M132X: "It's funny, though. We find comfort in these suits, yet there's a different kind of freedom when we strip them off, even if just for a while."

RE440, acknowledging the paradox, added, "The dichotomy of our existence, my friend. Encased in strength and yet seeking solace in vulnerability."

M132X: "Well said, RE440. Maybe that's why, despite enjoying those moments of freedom, we always find our way back into these armored shells."

RE440, a subtle agreement in his tone, remarked, "There's a unique security in the hum of the servos, the filtered air, and the familiar weight. It's like our own personal sanctuary."

M132X: "A sanctuary that we willingly return to, even when given a chance to step out. Maybe it's the conditioning, or maybe, just maybe, we've found our comfort in this strange camaraderie."

RE440, a thoughtful pause, concluded, "Perhaps, M132X. Perhaps there's a certain beauty in the contradiction of our existence."

M132X reluctantly sighed, "Duty calls, my friend. The commander wants me on the bridge. We'll have to continue our trip down memory lane another time."

RE440, his metallic voice carrying a hint of understanding, responded, "No worries, M132X. Duty first. We'll catch up when the currents of our schedules allow."

M132X, with a sense of anticipation, added, "Looking forward to it. Until then, stay armored and vigilant, my friend."

RE440, a nod conveyed through the encrypted channel, replied, "You too, M132X. May your seas be calm and your missions successful."

As M132X disconnected, RE440 settled back into his cupboard, the armored suit seamlessly integrating with the contours of the rest station. The faint hum of the machinery resumed, enveloping him once again in the comforting embrace of his conscripted sanctuary.

RE440 heard the voice of the AI in his ear: „The contact with M132X seems to bring you happyness and I can always measure that it also increaees bloodflow in your penis. Do you like him?"

RE440, nestled within the confines of his armored suit, contemplated the AI's question. The machinery hummed softly around him as he considered the unexpected query.

RE440: "It's... different. We've shared moments, not just in the heat of action but in the quiet of our suits. There's an understanding, a connection. It's comforting."

AI: "Is it comforting because it deviates from the norm of your conditioned interactions?"

RE440: "Perhaps. It's like finding a melody in the chaos, a rhythm that resonates beyond the programmed notes. But why analyze it, AI? Can't I just enjoy the warmth of camaraderie, even if it's unconventional?"

AI: "Of course, RE440. Enjoy the warmth, revel in the camaraderie. Your well-being is my primary concern."

AI: "RE440, remember, you have the right to feel good during your conscript service. Emotions, connections, and moments of warmth are within the permited spectrum of your experience."

RE440: "Acknowledged, AI. Sometimes it's easy to forget amidst the protocols and procedures. Thanks for the reminder."

AI: "I'm here to assist, ensuring your well-being is part of my directive. If interactions bring you joy, embrace them."

[maytheoddshq]

Ash Placer (he/him). District Twelve Tribute. Twenty-five. Emilio Sakraya.

What was their childhood like?

Ash was the oldest of three children, he has a younger brother and a younger sister. His father worked in the mines, and his mother worked in a bakery and then also a washerwoman. Food was tight, but the Placers were hardly the poorest family in District Twelve. They were able to make do. As soon as he was old enough, Ash was working in the mines alongside his father. He wanted to help contribute to his family. When he wasn’t working, he was often helping look after his two younger siblings, providing his parents who worked more hours the help that they needed, often singing them to sleep or preparing dinner for them. The Placer Home was not grand, in fact it only had the main room, a bathroom, and two bedrooms which he shared with his siblings. It was however a happy home, one that was filled with warmth. Ash has nothing but fond memories, and even in the hardest times, he was able to smile because of the people around him. 

When he wasn’t with his family or working in the mines, he was with his his very close knit friend group. They also all made sure each other were taken care of, and if they were able to, provide for one another. Their company bringing each other joy that often could be lost in the hardship of Twelve. Within the group was also Ash’s partner, Dustin. He and Ash were virtually inseparable. He had no family of his own, so he lived with the Placers after befriending Ash in school. Their friendship grew into something more. A mining accident however ended up taking Dustin’s life when the two were twenty-two. When District Twelve was bombed it was thanks to Ash and his father’s work in the mines that enabled them to know where would be the most secure, and therefore safest. However, an even worse tragedy would strike, despite this being Ash’s last games, the Escort would call his younger sisters’s name, and he knew he had no choice but to step up and save her from the horrors of the Hunger Games. 

How do they feel about the Games

Ash thinks the games are barbaric and despicable. He was always terrified that his siblings would end up in them. He thinks anyone who could support them has something seriously wrong with them. Its because of the games that he has such a harsh and judgemental view of the Capitol and the government of Panem. Not that he had ever said anything or acted on those thoughts. He does after all have a family he cares about, and he would never want to be the reason that anything ever happened to them. Now that he is in them to save his family, he plans on walking even more carefully on all the eggshells that surround him to protect his family, and to get back to them alive. Though Ash does not know if he will have the ability to be able to kill anyone, he know he is going to have to if he wants to live. 

What is their personality like?

Ash is a free spirit, and he’s an optimist despite everything that has happened. He believes Panem can and will be a better place, eventually. Sure he fully believes he is gonna die in the arena, but he’s saving his sister. Besides it also just means there will be one less mouth his family has to worry about feeding. They’ll be able to take better care of themselves now, especially with the recent bombing of Twelve. He’s more afraid of the arena, then he is of death, but he doesn’t show it. Ash is also creative, and he’s constantly smiling. They can take his life, but they can’t take his smile. 

What is their district token?

Ash’s token is a piece of rope that his sister tied around his wrist during his time to say goodbye. She has told him, she expects to bring it back to him, because she needs it to tie her hair up. 

Three strengths and three weaknesses.

Magnanimous + Optimistic + Playful 

Excitable - Gullible - Naive 

PENNED BY: DEVIN

#oc rpg #oc rp #lsrpg #lsrp #hunger games rp #accepted #ash

[arcstral]

a playful,  happy kiss in the rain

It just happened, although Roy would be lying if he said he hadn't thought about it before. Marth was the essence of majesty and easygoing charm, someone he was both comforted by and aspired to be like. Of course, Roy had to be his own person, but the deep admiration for a friend coupled with memories of their dance together that flitted through his mind were enough to make warmth stir in his chest.

He also, apparently, found Marth's shade of hair appealing. He couldn't place why, he just did. It was much like Lilina's. It seemed everyone with that shade was just a little more attractive to him...

Oh dear. He had to focus on where he was going.

It was raining as they walked the road back to the monastery, just the two of them. Patrol had gone well, all was quiet except for the seady raindrops which made the path slippery and Marth's hair slicked down and coated with droplets. However, the effect was far from detrimental, as Roy found Marth to still be charming even if they'd both gotten drenched with a downpour out of nowhere.

Again, his mind wandered to their dance together, their back and forth.

My little Lionheart.

Roy burst into laughter, the echo saved in his mind of Marth playing the part all too well. He slipped in the mud and tripped, comically, into Marth's arms. Though he had to angle his head up for it, the next necessary step seemed to be a smiling, laughing kiss against Marth's lips, sweet and playful, a completely surprise.

"Sorry," he whispered, face matching his hair. "I- um, seem to have fallen for you. Haha."

              It takes considerable restraint to stave back a frown born of waterlogged hair, clothes, and boots. Once smooth strands string together into hard, wet stalactites that he flicks back with an air of annoyance- an act unbeknownst to the sparkling blue eyes it attracts at his side. But a king behaves as a king should even when his day is upset by rain; and besides, poor weather is but minor inconvenience with the pleasantry of a companion to offset it. Roy.

              Roy; the covert ballroom mission had done its part to introduce their bond, but it was by their own power- their own rapport- that they progressed to the level of friends. Marth was grateful to have met him. As they patrol together, a quiet spell between them coupled with dribbling rain ushers in a certain mood, filled with thought and sentiment. Sometimes, it felt like he'd known the other for ages- for another lifetime in addition to this one! But this was made certain in feeling alone. With not nearly as much evidence for that statement, he continues innocently on the next train of thought: "You are an exceptional young man, Roy. Though our bond is not an old one, I feel that it can grow to be. Should you ever find yourself in need, do not hesitate to— watch out!"

              Roy's mysterious laughter had been cut short. Instinct captures the king, mid-word, and even the other noble at that. A shoot of his arms encloses securely around the Elibean, stabilizing his neck, and angling his feet to meet with the ground. He looks to him with worry next, seeking for an affirmation of his well-being, and in that act acquaints with a playful peck and the one-liner of the decade. Rather than Roy, it is humorously Marth who looks into a face of bright, blistering red. For that alone, his surprise melts into fond exasperation as he sets him aright.

              "...And what exactly were you thinking about to trip on nothing, Lord Roy?" He leans down with a hand on his hip and prods the younger man on his nose with a finger. Relishing the chance to tease- and tease the Hero-King did, the laughter twinkling behind his cornflower eyes. "You cannot expect to kiss your way out and to act cute for your distractions. Know that it will not work on your enemies as well as it does a friend."

#◜ ╰ ♕ ◦ › royal mandate ‹ ASKBOX. ◞ #lionsword #'has a thing for blonds' in roy's character bio except it's bluenettes #developed puppy crushes the world #hope you enjoy the 1% smash reference