Peachy (Minors DNI)

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[peachymilkandcream]

GOIN' ONCE, GOIN' TWICE, I'M SOLD|VERN (LOWLIFES) X READER

Prompt: Vern takes out a newspaper ad to find a wife (A/N: Saw a thing on Instagram of a guy taking out an ad in the paper for a wife and it was so Vern coded I had to do it. I left this open ended and shorter to see about making a series, if anyone likes the idea. Hope you enjoy and if you want more Vern let me know!) WARNINGS: outdated views, Vern being a caveman essentially, mentions of smut, mentions of homelessness, mentions of family/parental issues, etc. What's Playing: "Sold" ~John Michael Montgomery

"Now're you sure you wanna do this Vern? You got plenty a' chances of findin' yurself a wife if you just look hard enough." Billy watched Vern writing and formatting the text at the local newspaper office. Most people in the city would email the file directly to the company, but in this small town out in the middle of nowhere, computers were hard to come by. Besides, he always liked the old fashioned way.

"You think I can find myself a wife when half the people in this little back country hole are all kin? I don't do that cousin fuckin' shit, sure my third cousin might like real purdy when I'm desperate but there's just some lines a man won't cross y'know what I mean? We needs to get us some fresh blood in this town, and you know me with talkin' to them yuppies in the city, always ends up in a fist fight."

"That's true enough boss, but isn't this a little...extreme? Makin' an ad to find a wife?"

"Every one o' them city girls always ends up gettin' offended when I suggest comin' back with me anywhere even if it's a quick tumble in the hay. This way I know they're interested."

"Well what'chu gonna say?" Billy leans over Vern's shoulder to watch him write with the nub of a pencil.

"Simple really, I'll list all my qualities for some lucky lady." He touches the end of the pencil to his tongue before starting to write. "Thirty-two year old man seekin' a pretty woman to be his wife and live on his ranch. Must be willin' to make a few homecooked meals and tidy. No other preferences. Qualities of the man: lots of land-"

"That's a good one."

"Four shotguns, one rifle. Bought with cash. Owns a truck, and a home. No diseases, children or other women. Good loyal boy who was raised right and wants a woman to keep him company durin' the day and warm his bed at night." Vern's smirk widens at Billy's knowing giggles at the implication of his last written line. "Serious inquires only, Vern Cleary." He finishes by writing down his number. Vern slides the finished ad across the counter, pulling out a few coins with him and smiling ear to ear.

The man who ran the paper, an old soul who had been in the community for years reads over the ad before raising a brow. "You sure about this son?"

"Sure as I'll ever be sir, I've been on this green Earth too long with someone to hold close, I reckon I better fix all that. I need me a wife."

You weren't sure how long it had been since you'd stopped here in the middle of nowhere. After losing your housing and job you had nowhere else to go but to live with distant family across the country. Coming from the city the journey would take quite a few days, meaning a lot of your nights were spent in your car before you'd purchased a little tent after experiencing one too many times with a hurt back from the unforgiving seats of your car.

There was a chance your family might not even take you in, you'd never met them and since you effectively had cut off your parents they were your best option until something else came along. You'd tried to get jobs wherever you went but with no home address many businesses labelled you as "unreliable", as if incompetence had landed you in this situation.

The night was quiet after you'd set up your tent just as it was getting dark. You stayed close to the edge of the road, not wanting to take a chance in the woods unarmed figuring you could fight off a human attacker a little better than an animal one. Still the dark crept in, and you found yourself gathering wood for a fire. With the flashlight on your phone, you bunch up the newspapers you'd taken from the local shop as a fire starter. They were always cheaper than lighter fluid and if you could save even a couple pennies, you would. Two little balls of paper got nestled into the base of the wooden stack you made before an ad caught your eye.

"Opportunity for a young woman:" "Seeking a wife. Thirty-two year old man seeking a pretty woman to be his wife and live on his ranch. Must be willing to make a few homecooked meals and tidy. No other preferences. Qualities of the man: lots of land, four shotguns, one rifle. Bought with cash. Owns a truck, and a home. No diseases, children or other women. Good loyal boy who was raised right and wants a woman to keep him company during the day and warm his bed at night. " "Serious inquires only, Vern Cleary."

And a phone number was listed below. It was crazy, the dumbest thing someone could pay to put in a paper. And yet you were just as crazy for considering it. If he was serious, then it could mean a new life for you. Playing the little housewife so that you could be taken care of, not have to worry about another cent or where you were going to live or how you were going to get your next meal was insanely appealing. Besides, you doubted that he knew what a prenup was, if you did your time, you could take half of what he had and go along your separate ways. In the best case scenario, you might actually find a guy who was right for you. Either way you couldn't lose. The idea of him being a murderer crossed your mind, but there wasn't any harm in checking out the ad and the man. You'd listened to enough true crime to pinpoint behaviours of a predator, you knew how to keep yourself save. The fact of the matter was: you were desperate, and willing to try anything.

Quickly you dialed the number. After the second ring a thick Southern accent answers the phone.

"Yeah? What'chu want?"

"Is this Vern Cleary? From the ad?"

There's a long pause, like he can't believe someone actually called.

"This is Vern. What can I do for you?"

"Like I said I found your ad. And...I'd like to see about taking you up on the offer."

Again the silence stretches out, before a loud whoop comes from the other end and you hear him shout: "Billy! Boy I got myself a wife!"

You suppress a smile, the ideas of him being a murderer already seeming farfetched.

"Ahem, well missy I would be very pleased to meet you an' talk about our future, when can I come get you?"

"Why don't you tell me where you live and I'll come to you." A better chance to back out if need be.

"Well that's just fine by me darlin' I'll have you come over nice and early tomorrow mornin', sound good?"

"Sounds perfect."

He gives you the address and you type it into your Notes app.

"I can't wait to meet you missy, you're gonna make me the happiest man in the county." He makes a kissing noise into the phone like he's blowing you one before hanging up.

"What the fuck have I gotten myself into?"

[peachymilkandcream]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET|TRYST SMITH (FAKES) X READER|PART 7 (FINALE)

(A/N: I hope you liked this series lovelies! And if you want more Tryst, my requests are open for headcanon/oneshot requests, love you all!) WARNINGS: drug use/abuse, alcohol, addiction, cheating, implied domestic abuse (not by Tryst), cheating, implied smut, pining, general angst, etc. What's Playing: "expectations" ~Olivia Rodrigo

Tryst's little cash hoard had grown, but it still wasn't enough. Despite how much he worked, how much he tried to save it still wasn't enough for anything that you two could call your own. His mom had been lenient, but her fully grown son really needed to spread his wings and quit living at home, especially with his new significant other. Tensions were running high, and Tryst needed to figure a way out of this mess. Get them somewhere where they could be their own unit. The problem was Tryst wasn't exactly sure what he could do to earn more money so quickly. He'd been taking his side hustles a little bit slower for fear of winding up on the police's radar again. He didn't want to do all of this just to get arrested and have to leave you. But that meant his cash flow was severely dipping off.

"Tryst, are you even listening to me?"

His dealer had been rambling to him about something he really didn't care about, but he felt the need to tell Tryst anyway. "What? I wasn't listening at all."

"A lot going on?"

"You don't know the half of it, so, what is so important that you're making this, exchange so long."

"I was just talking about how some high level lawyer just upped his orders. It could mean more cash for everyone."

The cash and high level lawyer caught his attention. "What lawyer?"

"You know I can't give you that." It was policy, names weren't easily swapped unless it was for blackmail, and only then it stayed with the inner circle and not dealers like Tryst.

"Look, you owe me for that whole thing with Guy, humor me this one time."

"I can't give you his name, but I can tell you he's a big deal, just moved into town-"

Tryst catches on, giving him the biggest grin on his face, the golden goose so to speak dropped a gold egg in his lap. "What would it take to get the records of those transactions?"

"We don't keep those-"

"Bullshit. You know you have copies somewhere to bring your clients down with you. In case they go to the cops you have insurance they won't. So gimme."

The other man looks uncomfortable, but finally relents. "I guess I can, for a price."

"Done." A price tag wouldn't matter, he was about to be wealthy enough that it wouldn't phase him.

Tryst walks up to the fancy house he picked you up from that night with a confident stride in his step. A nice little package tucked under his arm as he rang the doorbell. He had a feeling that everything would work itself out.

The door opens and the smug bastard glares down at him. "The fuck do you want? Get off my property."

"Just a moment of your time good sir. I have something for you." He extends the envelope.

Your ex opens it, a look of pure rage coming across his face once he realizes what the contents are. "You forged these."

"So close-! They're very real, and if they weren't, they're good enough that any cop would buy it."

"I could take you down with me, out you as a dealer."

"What would be better proof than the dealer being a witness to the buying? I get a lesser sentence for my testimony, matched with the testimony of your ex-partner for domestic abuse, you could go away for a while."

He inhales, trying to keep calm. "Fine, what do you want."

"I'm so glad you asked."

"What are we doing here?" You ask as you pull up to the run down house. It was small, clearly in need of work. Maybe home to one of Tryst's friends.

"Why don't we go inside and you can see for yourself?" Tryst had been beaming with energy all week and didn't tell you why. Now he looked like a kid on Christmas, waiting to open his gifts.

You have no reason not to follow him, so you do. The place isn't horrible, but it needs some tender loving care to make it cozy.

"Are you going to tell me what this is about?"

"This. Aren't you excited?" He gestures with open arms around the space.

"I don't get it-"

Tryst looks at you in disbelief. "What's there not to get? It's ours."

Only then does it sink in, leaving you utterly shocked. "Ours-? Like- you bought us a fucking house?"

His smile is infectious. "Bought, paid for, no mortgage. Paid off."

"How-"

"Don't worry about that. It's not the big fancy place you're used to, but it's ours. If you want it."

"Are you kidding? You bought me a fucking house of course I want it!" You run into his arms, holding him tight.

Tryst holds you like you're the most important thing in the world to him, which you are.

While he'd never been able to do everything that he'd set out to do, have the big fancy career, the fancy house, looking at you, one thing was clear.

He was very rich indeed.

The End.

[peachymilkandcream]

Bitter Homecoming|Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader|Part 1

(A/N: I'm naught but just a girl and had to make this a series, this is before the oneshots and then chapters 2 and 3 will be the oneshots and after that more new content. Hope you guys enjoy!) WARNINGS: mentions of past trauma, canon typical violence, forced proximity, simon's kind of a dick, etc. What's Playing: "Rein raus" ~Rammstein

Taglist: @celleryxo

"How the hell do we know we can trust this one? Makarov isn't anything if not a paranoid bastard. He's only going to have the most loyal with him. How do we know that this isn't just some ploy to gather information of her own?" Simon was the first to bring up his doubt when this plan was proposed. All of it just seemed too good to be true for his liking. The concept of someone so close in Makarov's confidence to turn like this? It smelled fishy to him.

"We don't have a choice." Laswell is quick to dispel any concerns, they didn't have time for hesitation, for all they knew you could already have been executed for even making contact. It was a calculated risk they'd have to take. "This is our best shot at finding Makarov when there aren't any leads to speak of. If we're wrong, then Makarov still lost one of his financiers controlling the money flow. It'll hurt. We can execute her if it comes to it. but we can't afford not to at least try to use this information."

Laswell's assurance didn't do much to ease the tension in Simon's mind, but he'd have to take her word for it. She had a point, even if the risks of trusting that you weren't a rat was high. In any case, if you chose to double cross them, he'd just execute you himself. If you put any of his comrades in danger, it didn't matter how valuable you were, his mates and their safety came first. He wasn't one to shy away about collateral damage.

Price glances at Simon and notices his silent resignation to the mission. "I'll take that as your agreement then. Let's get this done then."

Gunshots rang out through the villa where you resided, Konni men dropping like flies as Soap and Ghost pushed their way to the secure room where you awaited extraction. So far, the information that you had given, however little was proving accurate and useful. Where to find the guards, their postings and routines. It had all been drip fed to keep you from being found out, but it was vital to keeping Soap and Ghost alive now. Still, it didn't change the unease about all of this from building. What had caused you to change sides? Unless you wanted to dive off a sinking ship, no one in your position would bail now. You had everything you could want, money enough to do as you pleased, your conscience dying was your only drawback.

"Johnny, does this smell off to you?" He said into his headset.

"I don't smell any gas." The voice crackles through.

"Not the bloody air, the situation. Why does a big shot in Makarov's group want to defect now? Doesn't sit right with me."

"I was thinking the same thing Lt. But I suppose we won't have the answer until we put a bit of pressure on her to tell the truth." A pause. "I'm at the door."

"Wait there for me Johnny I'm right behind you." Ghost rounds the corner to stand on the opposite side of Soap, gun drawn. "Open it."

Soap kicks the door open, and the two guards with you fall to Ghost's precise aim.

You jump at both the noise and the sudden violence. You'd known they were coming but the force and violence you'd just bore witness to was still startling. You'd worked with Makarov for a long time now, but you'd never witnessed death like this, so quick and nonchalant.

Ghost gives you a once over before speaking over his radio. "Target acquired, ready for extraction." A pause, presumably for the reply before he turns to his partner. "Heli's waiting in the woods, we need to get her out of here now, Gaz spots reinforcements coming down the road."

"Seems we don't have much time then." Soap steps over to you and gestures to the door. "After you, miss."

You'd agreed to this, wanting to put an end to the dictatorship that Makarov wanted to instill. The innocent lives that would be lost tugging at your conscience. But trusting these strangers who could very easily put you down like a rabid dog still frightened you. However you swallow your fears and follow, knowing that all of this was for a greater good.

Even if the one in the mask scared you more than you'd like to admit.

The whole helicopter ride home had been tense, a constant reminder that you weren't trusted in the slightest. Despite your agreement you were still the enemy, you didn't blame them for their hesitations about you, but you wished that you hadn't been stared at as if you were going to suddenly reveal a bomb that would kill everyone one detonation.

You paced the length of your makeshift holding cell, already restless even though you hadn't been there that long. You'd been brought straight in for questioning and interrogation, and you'd spilled every secret that you knew, trying to be as truthful as you could remember. A new life was all that you wanted, as far away from Makarov's reach as you could possibly get. However until Makarov was in custody or dead, you'd be staying here a while. Anywhere else would be far too dangerous. Now that you'd been captured it was all but assured that Makarov would be trying to find some way to kill you. You knew too much and anything that could compromise his plans was a problem that had to be taken care of. By whatever means necessary.

You noticed Ghost just staring at you, it wasn't like he was needed there, you had other soldiers guarding you. Someone so skilled just to watch you pace a cell was a bit overkill, so you glared back. "What are you staring at?"

He pushes off the wall he was leaning on to approach you, his eyes, darkened by the paint around them pierced through you. "I'm trying to figure out what your game is. What your angle is in all this."

"My angle is to stop Makarov."

"But why is the question. You were up there livin' it large, a nice fat payout to keep you on his side, why give that all up for a cell and a target on your back." He shakes his head. "Doesn't make sense."

"Is it so impossible that I realized the true extent of what Makarov was doing and wanted to stop him? That I have morals and don't want to see thousands if not millions killed by his regime?"

Ghost scoffs. "You knew what Makarov was like long before this. Let's just hope for your sake you at least can keep your stories straight."

A chill runs down your spine. "Is that a threat?"

"It is. Because if any of my mates almost died to extract your sorry ass and you purposely let Makarov get away? I'll fuckin' execute you myself."

They leave you there for days, checking your information and trying to make a plan. Despite everything you'd given them, they didn't want to drop in unprepared. You'd given them one shot to bring Makarov to justice, they weren't about to waste it.

Simon paid close attention to the debrief of how exactly his team would go about this. All he wanted was to personally put a bullet in Makarov's head so this whole mess could be over. He was tired of all this, of the fighting, being on the run and racing against the clock to stop nukes from being launched onto innocent people.

The meeting stops as soon as gunshots are and shouting start from outside the warehouse you were being held at. The whole team goes still for just a moment as the situation sinks in. Then they're all moving into action and Simon knows exactly where they're going and runs to your cell.

Simon rushes into the cell where you were being kept, your startled look not even earning a second glance as he unlocks the door and pulls you out roughly. "We have to move."

"What's going on?"

"We're under attack." Simon shields you as he carefully navigates out of the holding cell, making his way through the halls carefully and efficiently, the last thing he needed was for you to get a bullet in your head before they could even verify if you'd been telling the truth.

Fallen comrades lay in their path, only allowing Simon to have a brief mental moment of wishing them the best in the next life before he's ushering you closer to the entrance so he could throw you in a truck and get you the fuck out of here.

As he pushes you out into the sunlight, Johnny pulls up with the armored truck they'd driven here in. "Hop in Lt, we have to move, Laswell and Price'll handle it."

Simon pushes you in and gets in the back with you to return fire if they're caught on the road. Johnny quickly steps on the gas, speeding away from the warehouse as quickly as possible.

You hold onto whatever you can to keep from falling over when you dare a glance at Ghost.

"Ghost, we have a safe house for you to bring the target." Shepherd's voice comes over his radio. "Sending you the coordinates, bring the target there and wait for further instruction."

Simon hated taking Shepherd's word for anything with how greasy of a bastard he was, but there wasn't any choice, the three of you were sitting ducks. "Yes sir, heading there now sir." He meets your look. "That information better be fuckin' worth it."

You make it to the safehouse, and once Soap clears the inside from any threats, Ghost pushes you in with a rough hand.

"Get comfortable, you'll be here a while." Soap jokes, as if it's terribly funny. He presses the button on his radio. "Target secured at safehouse, waiting for further instructions."

"One of you will have to stay and guard the target. We can't lose one of you on the field when we finally bring Makarov in and escort him to the gates of hell personally. MacTavish, come back and meet back up with Price and Gaz."

"What about Lt.?"

"Since Ghost likes to complain about how I run things I think he'd be better suited watching over the target." Even over the radio the sarcasm came through.

Simon looked at Johnny and then back at you, the reality of what job he just got stuck with sinking in.

"Fuckin' hell."

[peachymilkandcream]

ALL THAT GLITTERS|PT. 2|JOE FERRERA X READER

WARNINGS: gun violence, mentions of smut, assassinations, graphic depictions of murder, lying, mentions of gangs, slight stalking/spying on, spying on intimate moments, masturbation, etc. What's playing: "Somebody Told Me" ~Motionless In White

"What are you doing here?" He repeated when you just stood there taking him in, you couldn't believe that you'd found him. He was keeping his expression guarded, and you hoped that he wouldn't take this as overstepping.

"I wanted to see you?"

Something in his eyes lights up at that and Joe steps out of the door, closing it behind him to talk to you, a good sign. "Why did you want to see me?" You could tell he was playing off his nervousness while asking, probably not used to people talking to him.

Joe panicked, if you knew where he lived, did that mean you knew more? Did you know that he was partially behind the hit on your boyfriend? He didn't see any weapons on you, but that didn't mean you didn't have one hidden, waiting for the perfect moment to strike.

"I just remembered you from the club last week, and I never said thank you for pulling me away from the glass like that."

You could see his shoulders relax slightly, but he was still on guard. "No problem at all, just consider it my good deed for the day."

"And I wanted to thank you properly, I could've gotten really hurt. I feel like I should." You put on what you hoped was your best sultry face, trying to entice him.

"It's really not necessary, just knowing you're alright is what matters."

"Please? I insist, let me take you out for drinks or something."

Something in Joe stills as he reads the situation, or at least he hopes he's reading the situation right. "Are you- are you asking me out?"

"And if I was, would you say no?"

Joe swallows, not expecting this at all. He'd rarely been approached by anyone, and usually it was just for a hook up, dumping him when they realized his financial situation. "I...I don't think I would-"

"Then why don't we meet this Saturday, the little spot just outside of the downtown area? Say...seven?"

Usually he was the one begging for dates, doing all the leg work trying to set them up only for his dates to bail on him at the last second. Here you were, not only offering but you seemed to eager to make a plan and everything.

"Sounds good to me."

"I'll see you then."

As you leave him standing there, Joe doesn't even register his dad opening the door and bombarding him with questions about who you were. He just continued to stare at you while you get in your car, unable to stop the small smile that tugged at his lips. Maybe his luck was turning around after all.

Joe had made the mistake once of not making sure he knew every detail about his targets, and it could have been disastrous. You were too close to the target, for all he knew, you were using this as a method of getting close to him, to either kill him or uncover the whole operation to report back to someone you were working for.

As shameful as it was, Joe started following you, seeing where you went, who you talked to. When you didn't show any signs of meeting with shady people or anyone he knew personally to be in a rival family or group, it made him even more suspicious. What would be a better cover than to outwardly keep your hands clean? To make sure that anyone following you had no possible way to track your contacts and therefore blow your cover. You were smart, but Joe would be smarter.

If on the street you didn't make your moves, the next logical place was in the safety of your apartment. He'd followed you there a few times over the course of a day or two, knowing exactly what he needed to do, he'd find all the dirt on you, then have you taken care of by Angelo.

"I'm here to install a home security system for 317, third floor?" Joe put on his best professional persona, dressed in a uniform he'd copied and designed from a popular home security company in the area.

"Well the tenant isn't home, we'll have to call-"

"No offence but I have lots of appointments, I can't exactly wait. If you just let me in, I can even install it with you standing there if it makes you feel better."

The apartment receptionist looks at him with a suspicious eye before finally relenting. "If you'll just follow me."

Not trusting Joe with the master key, they both go up in the elevator to your apartment where she unlocks the door and lets him inside.

Joe takes in your space, simple, cozy enough to feel like it's lived in, but still relatively clean, like you hadn't lived there long. Even more suspicious.

"I'll just be a few minutes." He sets down his bag and gets to work, doing what he said he was, but instead of routing the cameras to your devices it would display back on his. Every secret you've ever had will be his to discover to ensure his own safety.

He works quickly and efficiently, feeling the eyes of the woman who was supposed to be keeping watch over him. He'd wanted to do a quick search while he was here, but it would be impossible with this one watching him like a hawk. Another time then. Even if he couldn't search through your things, he had other ways of uncovering the truth.

Joe sits on his bed, willing you to do something interesting on the cameras. He'd been here for a few hours now, a few beers deep, a bag of chips gone and two movies watched. All you did was make yourself dinner, make a few unimportant phone calls and sent an email he couldn't see from this angle. None of which helped him in his over all goal.

At some point he must've dozed, when the sound of soft moaning woke him up. Starting awake, Joe thought that he must've left a porn tab open, but as he finally wiped the sleep from his eyes his heart started pounding. There you were, grinding desperately into a vibrator, moaning softly into the pillow you were clutching like a lifeline.

He swallowed thickly, reaching to close the camera program when he wondered if you knew you were being watched, trying to get him to click off so that you could make your move and contact your people who would kill him. It was a lame and pathetic excuse, but it was enough to keep him watching, taking in how your hips moved, your facial expressions.

In no time at all his cock pressed against his jeans, suffocated by the constricting fabric as he watched you with his mouth slightly agape. All of a sudden he felt something drip and wiped his mouth only to realize he was actually drooling over you at this moment. It took a split second decision, remembering his dad wasn't home at the moment, probably off getting lotto tickets that Joe made his decision.

Quickly he unbuttoned his pants, pulling them and his boxer down to expose his hard length, desperate to be touched. Soon he was moving his hand in rhythm with your needy thrusts against the vibrator, biting his lip to keep from gasping. As he stroked himself he couldn't help but think what might happen if he did take you up on the date, if things went well. There was a chance he wouldn't have to use his hand anymore, that he could actually get to have the real thing.

"Too far Joe, too far-" He thought, you hadn't even gone on a date with him yet, much less agreed to anything more. Thinking so far ahead would drive you off indefinitely.

But still, he couldn't deny how great it felt to cum all over his hands as you shook and finished on the screen in front of him.

Immediately, the post nut clarity hit him at full force. How could he have done something like that? He was just supposed to be there to make sure you weren't trying to kill him. The guilt sat in his gut, and he promised himself he could never tell you what he'd done.

Joe almost thought you wouldn't show up, but there you were, coming and sitting down next to him at the bar. "You made it."

"Sorry I'm late, it's good to see you."

Joe fumbled a you too and instead turned to his whiskey, trying to play it cool. His searches of you had all come back clean, you weren't involved with anyone. When that realization had hit he knew that he had to play his hand right if he wanted you to be interested in him beyond this moment. "So tell me about yourself."

You launch into the basics about yourself, what you did, your hobbies, shows or movies you'd enjoyed, all things that he mostly listened to, the rest of his mind preoccupied by not screwing up. You were the whole package, the last thing he wanted to do was fumble this great opportunity.

"And you?"

Joe gives you the basics about himself, omitting the issues with his dad and the fact he essentially worked for the mob by proxy of his uncle.

"I wash dishes at this restaurant." There, now you'd find some excuse to leave.

"But you don't actually do that, do you?"

"Of course I do-"

"No but I mean, Joe, I found you because of who my boyfriend was." You lean closer and lower your voice so only he can hear. "He had connections, who knew your connections."

The hair on the back of his neck stands straight up and a cold sweat starts to break out. He swallows nervously. "Is that so?"

"So do you like, run it or something? Using that as your cover?"

Joe bites his lip, unsure what to say without exposing too much.

You catch onto his nervousness. "Look, I'm not with those guys, and I didn't mean to scare you. I guess it's my way of saying that I know about what you really do."

"You don't seem bothered by it."

You shrug. "I always had a thing for dangerous guys."

He smiles a little, huffing out a laugh. "You're serious aren't you?"

"Deadly. So do you run it?"

He was about to say that he was just a lackey, that he didn't whatever he was told, but looking at you, looking at how far out of his league you were...

"Yeah, I do. I just use it as a cover."

Your eyes light up with interest. "Seriously? That's the coolest thing I've heard."

Joe puffs out his chest, suddenly filled with pride. "I've got a whole bunch of guys under my thumb, bunch of cops paid off too."

"So you're like invincible."

"Pretty much."

You down your own drink, feeling bold and take his hand in yours. "I think I'll like getting to know you, Joe."

In the back of his mind, Joe worried about what would come out of lying like this, but he was sure it would be harmless. If anything, he was keeping Dutch safe, and he was high enough on the chain that he could back it up with Dutch's people if he had to. Everything would be fine.

[peachymilkandcream]

WOULD YOU FALL IN LOVE WITH ME AGAIN|JOHN MURPHY X READER

(A/N: Summer's brought me back into my EPIC obsession so I had to do a fic with the vibes, and who better than a slightly angsty slightly fluffy Murphy fic? Also note that this will be heavily meatriding Murphy as I will be his number one lawyer alright. Hope you enjoy and let me know what else you'd like to see!) WARNINGS: mentions of violence, torture, attempted murder, etc. What's Playing: "Would You Fall In Love With Me Again?" ~EPIC The Musical

"John!" Your cry was anguished as you watch Bellamy throw him to the ground, still beaten and bloody from the way he'd been treated earlier for the crime he didn't even commit. You'd watched in horror as the man you loved had been strung up, tortured and treated like a murderer for a crime he didn't commit. You'd been his alibi, but Murphy never wanted to implicate that the two of you were a thing. With how soft Bellamy had been getting, Murphy feared that the power structure was going to start shifting, his position on the top might fall. With the loss of control would come an increase of danger, people who were already pissed off at him for all the shit he'd pulled. Anything that put you in danger was instantly vetoed, that included revealing the relationship you'd developed, even at the potential cost to his life.

But now you weren't going to let him possibly be taken from you again.

You rush to his side, trying to help him sit up. Murphy brushes you off, pretending like you were like just another one one of these people, beneath him. Yet you could feel the tenderness in his actions as he pushes you away.

"Get off of me, I'm fine."

"Murphy. You're banished." Bellamy's words were final, leaving no room for argument.

That didn't stop you. "You're going to throw him out just like that? Just because she jumped? You hung him for a crime he didn't commit, now he's the villain?"

"My decision is final, if you can't stand the thought of being away from him then why don't you join him, huh? There's plenty enough woods out there for you two to kill each other in them."

"Fine, I will go with him then, see if I care about staying with you lot."

Murphy shakes his head. "No, you're staying here."

"John, I'm coming with you."

"I don't know what's out there, there's grounders, there's everything out there that could kill me, I'm not letting you get into that danger. Not you."

Tears start to prick at the edge of your vision. "Please, John I can't be without you."

He shakes his head. "I need you to survive, I couldn't live with myself if you went out with me and starved to death or got taken by grounders."

"It seems John Murphy does have a heart after all, who knew." Bellamy mocked, but just as you turned your face to return the biting remark, John turns your face back to him.

"Hey, I want you to survive, okay? Stay with them, kiss their asses if you have to, so long as you survive. That's all I care about."

You shake your head, the tears falling now. "I can't let you go. Please don't leave me."

Murphy swallows and you can see the emotion he's trying hard to fight down, trying not to seem weak. "I'll come back for you then, okay? I promise you now, just keep holding on for me until I can come back for you."

You nod, trying to hold back a sob and make this harder for the both of you. It was clear that he was right, None of them knew what existed beyond the borders of their camp, he could walk half a mile and up dead. He wanted you to live on, for him, the promise to come back most likely an empty one, enough to bring you comfort when the reality of it was near impossible.

"I'll wait for you."

All this time trying to keep your relationship a secret came crashing down the moment Murphy takes your face in his hands and kisses you with as much love as he can muster. Everything he felt for you in that moment, the possibility of never seeing you again coming out in that one kiss.

All too soon you part, and with a solemn nod, Murphy heads out into the forest away from the group, leaving you with them. Without the entertainment, everyone trudges their way back to the camp, but you stay watching for a long while, until he's out of sight and even after that. It was as if you were willing him to turn around and come back to you. But it never happened. Instead all you could do was hold onto the promise he'd made you, and hope that you'd see him again.

Whispers rippled throughout the camp, Murphy had returned, without thinking, you dropped the firewood you'd been collecting, desperate to go and see him again. However the moment you get to the tent, you're stopped.

"The hell is this, John's in there I have to see him-"

"You can't, he's sick. Clarke's orders, anyone who goes in there will get sick."

"I don't care about getting sick-"

"We don't know if it's deadly."

"That's not going to stop me."

"Stay out there." Murphy's voice calls from the ruined shuttle. "You promised me you were going to survive, and that means staying away for now. Please."

"You said you'd come back for me-"

"And it's not yet, I just need you to wait a little longer. That's all I ask. Let me keep you safe."

Reluctantly, you back up, picking up your scattered firewood again, knowing that if Murphy didn't want to see you he had a good reason. You could keep waiting, you'd have to.

Murphy never told you when he got better, never told you when he was pardoned, the many times he came back, the many times he left. He was a shadow, in and out many times to avoid being pinned down. Once he would've given anything to see you again, but after he started staining his hands with more blood, seeing you became too daunting a task. He'd done too much, killed, stolen, tainted himself until he was no longer a man, but a monster. You didn't deserve to see him like that, you deserved a man who was better than him. As much as Murphy wanted to take you into his arms, bring you back with him, what did he have to offer? A life of suspicion and distrust, just when it seemed like Clarke's group was starting to let you in again, give you a second chance after aligning with the murderer. He couldn't risk that for you. You needed more, more than he was.

The promise he made weighed heavily on him, knowing that he could never fulfill it. He could never go back for you. He hoped you would just forget about him.

Terror fills Murphy's senses as he runs through the woods to the waiting truck, collar strapped to him like a dog. All these years of fighting, of running, would he ever truly be free? Ever find that life of peace and safety? It seemed so distant now, so impossible to achieve. Even now his apparent freedom came at the sacrifice of another, because he was the one who got to survive when so many died. A survivor, but at what cost?

"We have to get out of here-" He barks at the little hobbit driving before from the back a quiet.

"John?"

His head whips around to see you, you hadn't changed from the person he remembered all that time ago. You'd survived, one of the lucky ones in the bunker, the bunker where he'd avoided you at all costs, slipped out to find Raven before you could find him. Now here you were, the situation not allowing much more emotion than a simple hopeful glance.

One he shuts down. "Great, you survived." Despite wanting nothing more than to hop in the backseat and kiss you, Murphy knew that he was even less worthy of your affection now. His hands were so stained with blood he couldn't even find his own flesh anymore.

You immediately stiffen towards him, the clear tension in the air making a wall go up then and there. After all this time, longing, hoping, now Murphy was here, and he didn't care about you anymore. Your chest ached at the realization.

You'd been a fool to wait.

The vehicle skidded to a stop as John got out, not wanting to endanger you further with the tracker attached to him. Besides, distance was needed between you now, you still cared for him, that much he could tell. And he'd have to end that here and now. For your sake.

What he didn't expect was for you to be waiting for him on the other side of the truck as it pulled away.

"What are you doing here? Are you insane? They're probably coming for me-"

"I've watched you walk away too many times John, it's not going to happen again."

"You're throwing your life away, I'm a dead man."

"Then I guess I'm dead right along with you."

"I'm not going to let you do that, you have to try and catch up to them."

You shake your head. "I can't. Even if you don't care about me anymore, that's not going to stop how I feel."

"I do still care for you that's why I'm telling you to leave, to protect you!"

"Then why, John!? Why have you left me time and time again, kept me from you. All this time passed, you don't even look the same, I can see the pain in your eyes, pain and burdens I could've helped you bear. I've dreamed about this day for years, is it even you anymore?"

This was the worst place to talk about this, your enemies threatening to close in at any moment, but you both knew this couldn't wait a moment longer.

"I stayed away because it's not me anymore, I'm not the man you once adored. I've changed, I've hardened to the world. I've done terrible things, things I can't change. You've been waiting, but there's nothing worth waiting for."

"What could you have done that was so bad?"

"Killed, stolen, traded lives and betrayed everyone close to me, just to survive, just to keep myself alive, I've been so selfish, I'm a monster. Not worth breathing the same air as you. You couldn't fall in love with me again if you knew what I've turned into."

"If that's the case." You take out a knife and hold it to your throat. Instantly, Murphy rushes towards you.

"What the hell are you doing!?"

"If all I've lived for, if everything that I've been fighting for, waiting for, is worthless, then I have no point in going on."

"Stop- okay-? Just put the knife down, you have so much to live for, so much to keep going for, please-"

"It's nothing without you by my side. It's always been about you, John. Everything I've done is just in the hopes to see you again. But if you're not the man you claim to be anymore, then I have no reason to keep fighting."

Before you can do anything, Murphy closes the distance, grabbing your wrist with enough force that it hurts, wrenching the blade away from your neck and holding it a safe distance away.

"Please, just- fuck- please don't. I can't watch you die, I can't. All I care about is your surviving, I'm begging you, you have to stay alive."

"If you're not the same man, then why has your goal never changed? You told me the day you left that all you wanted was for me to stay alive. Yet here you are, still caring about me more than anyone else."

He pauses, words failing him as he takes you in, still as precious to him as the day he left.

"I will fall in love with you, no matter what, no matter you say or do, no matter how long it's been. I've been waiting, for so long, fighting for so long, just to see you, for you to keep your promise. Are you going to keep your promise, John?"

The question hangs heavy in the air, waiting for his response.

Murphy swallows, then finally speaks. "I'm going to keep my promise."

You wrap your arms around him, pressing your lips to his, all the lost time, the longing, the love that you both had felt for years finally having an outlet. It was everything that you had missed. Even now with the world possibly ending, nothing mattering more than finally being reunited after all this time.

"It's been too long." He mutters against your lips.

"It's just the start of forever John, a forever I get to spend with you."

"I'd say it was worth the wait."

[peachymilkandcream]

Hi! I really like your writing, I really do. If I may request, I would like to see a Michael Konner fanfic with the main format of Angst and maybe slight NSFW?? I was inspired by the nsfw alphabet of michael that you previously made, he is a bad person, really. Imagine the reader is just an inexperienced girl who is taken advantage of by michael but maybe one day michael feels sorry for the reader's innocence and starts to treat her a little.... better???, that's all thank you, have a nice day!! ><.

Srry my english is so bad, English is not my first language, Hope u can understand what i says ^^.

TENDER & SWEET|MICHAEL KONNER (EVANGELINE) X READER

(A/N: No worries at all lovely! To keep with blog rules, slightly NSFW is how we'll go it, leaning on more suggestive. Full blown smutshots I save for commissions or just when I feel like it. Thank you for the request lovely and I hope you enjoy it! Also for the user who said they wanted to put Michael in a blender after the NSFW alphabet? After this one I'll help you put him into blender sized pieces.) WARNINGS: corruption, possessive and toxic behaviours, mentions of violence, mentions of domestic violence, mentions of smut, mentions of murder, unhealthy relationships, unhealthy behvarious, y'all love a freak ong, etc. What's Playing: "Run Rabbit" ~Mollie Elizabeth

Michael had spotted you at one of his infamous parties, there were tons of people there trying to get his attention, wanting to get in with the rich boy who they thought could get them anything. But another face in the sea wasn't what drew him in, it was the way you sputtered with your first shot, acting like you'd never had anything stronger than apple juice in your life. His eyes locked on you, and he had to know if the innocence was an act or if you were really as naïve as he thought.

"Not having a good time?" Michael put on his best charming persona as he slid up to you.

"Oh, I'm having a great time, actually. Just didn't plan on drinking gasoline tonight is all."

"Not much a drinker then?"

You shake your head. "Isn't my scene, all of this, it's not like me."

"Then why are you here?"

A shrug on your end. "I was asked to go. Make sure my friends don't get into too much trouble."

"Just some right?" His grin widens in an attempt to coax one from you.

It works and you find yourself relaxing slightly, despite the uncomfortable nature of being in a place that wasn't really your style, you at least felt a bit better about being here.

"I'm Michael by the way."

"I know who you are."

"My reputation proceeds me then?"

"Something like that."

Michael circles you, the gears turning in his head about what he could do with you. It would depend on how much of a fighter you were. He didn't like to chase unless it was one of his victims through the forest. When it came to people he was interested in beyond his bloodlust, he wanted them to come to him willingly, easily. He was far too busy and important to beg. "You got a boyfriend or something? A guy you're seeing?"

You shake your head. "Not yet."

"Yet? That means you're looking then, doesn't it?"

You flush slightly, realizing how that sounds and how true it is.

"That tells me everything I want to know, I'm right aren't I?"

"I guess you could say that."

"And what about someone like me? Do you think I could be worth a second look?" He knew he was moving fast, but it was how he always worked, overwhelming and love bombing, he wanted to fill your senses with him and the love he could offer if you would just give in.

And they always gave in.

"Depends if you play your cards right." You were trying to be coy, to not give yourself away too quickly. Michael knew the truth, you were into him, it was clear with your body language, with the way your eyes raked over him. If he snapped his fingers you'd probably jump into bed with him right, eager to please as always.

"I'll have you know I'm an excellent poker player, and that means I know when someone's bluffing. And I can tell that you are right now."

"How am I bluffing?"

"You're putting up this front that you want to play hard to get, when I know that you're just wondering how long you have to hold out until you throw yourself at me."

The heat in your cheeks spreads to all over your body. "And if I told you you were right?"

"Then I would say we should stop beating around the bush and get out of here." He turns from you before stopping and looking back. "Are you coming?" His hand is held out, waiting.

You take it. "Of course I am."

"What do you love about me Michael?"

"What don't I love about you?"

"You know what I mean, be specific."

"I love your spirit, you're so full of life, so vibrant. Like you have this thirst for living, it's intoxicating. But all of you is perfect to me."

"I'm sure you can show yourself out." He comments over his shoulder, tugging on his pants.

You sit up in his bed, fingers tenderly brushing the marks on your neck from where he'd choked you. Michael always said that it was just a thing he was into, a kink and nothing more, but lately he'd been doing it more and more, too long, making the edges of your vision go black before he finally let go. Your wrists too held bruises, memories of his aggression in the moment. Tender love making had turned rather sinister and sadistic.

You and Michael had officially been dating little more than a month. The night of the party he'd taken your virginity, the whole time whispering sweet nothings in your ear, telling you how much you meant to him, how special you were. Right then and there you'd started to fall for him, he was just so sweet.

"What's so funny Michael, why are you laughing?" You'd asked when he was done.

"I'm just so happy to have met someone like you, it's like everything is right in the world finally."

Now you wondered if his laughter was due to the fact you were naïve enough to trust him. He'd asked you to be his girlfriend, to which you'd readily agreed, flattered and head over heels.

This past week everything had changed. The tender lover had vanished, more of what you did seemed to irritate him, and his sweet nothings turned into degrading comments phrased as jokes and just "harmless fun".

"Stop being so sensitive, we're just having fun." Even when his jokes made you feel like shit. But that was just how Michael was, that's what you told yourself.

"Michael? What do you love about me?"

"What?" He turned from where he was shrugging on his jacket.

"Just answer the question."

"What does it matter?'

"Can you just answer, please?"

He looks you over, contemplating. "How loyal you are. It's the only good thing about you. Even you're smart enough to know that I'm the best you're going to get."

You swallow. "Is that it?"

Michael acts like he's thinking a long moment before finally answering. "That's it."

You sniffle, the hurt getting to you.

"Are you really going to cry? Grow up. If you're going to be such a pussy about this then I might have to find someone else that can handle me."

You shake your head. "It's alright, I won't cry."

"Now if you can get out, I have some shit to do."

You do as you're asked, as always, silently wondering how you got yourself into this mess, and how you could even get yourself out of it.

But you knew that wasn't possible.

"Is everything alright with your girlfriend, man?" One of his buddies asked him.

"Of course she is, why wouldn't she be?"

"She just seems really out of it and sad. Did you do something?"

"She's just being dramatic."

"All I'm saying, if you don't treat her better, she might dump your ass."

Michael's first thought was to laugh it off about how he could find someone else, but then he really considered it. Out of all the girls he'd been with, anyone he would've considered elevating to the position you were in, you were the only one who'd made it this far. Most were dead in a ditch somewhere. None were this blindly loyal. There was something special in the way you followed him, maybe he should hang onto that more closely, even if it meant reigning in his tendencies.

Maybe you were worth that sacrifice.

Michael had brought you out on a date, and it was the first time in a bit that he'd really noticed you. How much of a shell you'd become. His moral compass was fucked beyond belief, but even he felt a twinge of guilt at the person you'd become under his care. You were his loyal little lapdog, maybe some tender loving care is what you needed to stay on your leash.

"You look pretty tonight."

You bloomed at his compliment. "Really?"

"Mm, I mean it. You're so gorgeous, I'm the luckiest guy."

Just as anticipated, you eat it up, pressing closer to him. "You're so sweet."

"I just love the way it compliments your shape, and it brings out your eyes, I don't even want to go to dinner, just take you back home and kiss you senseless." He laughs it off like a joke, but waits for you to say you'd be perfectly fine with that arrangement, it would save him some money and get him laid.

You don't take the bait. "Maybe after."

He'd have to work you a bit harder for that trick to work again. "I'll be on my best behaviour then. But." He stops, making you look at him. "I do need one kiss."

You dutifully hold up your face, and his kiss is soft this time, not aggressive with bit lips and teeth crashing together, tongue invading your mouth. It was a kiss that you'd missed, like one of the ones Michael gave you in the beginning.

He gives you a look that's supposed to be full of love, but there's a glint of something else beneath the charming façade, something darker. "I'm so happy to have you."

"I'm happy to have you too..."

That night, Michael reminds you why you'd fallen for him originally, making love to you with the worship he told you was deserved. It was contradictory to how he'd been the last while, but you weren't about to question it. You accepted this night of life in paradise, your love falling deeper as you began to question why you'd even considered he was a bad person in the first place. Surely it was all in your head.

Or so you thought until his hands wrapped around your neck, squeezing until you passed into the subconscious. But that didn't stop him from continuing to fuck you, knowing that if he just loosened the leash a little now and again, you'd be eating out of his hand always. Part of him was close to choking you all the way, but restraint had kept him at bay.

You were too valuable to slip through his fingers.

[peachymilkandcream]

Feeling ill remembering Kili never got to keep his promise to Dis

[peachymilkandcream]

DIRTY LITTLE SECRET|TRYST SMITH (FAKES) X READER|PART 6

WARNINGS: drug use/abuse, alcohol, addiction, cheating, implied domestic abuse (not by Tryst), cheating, implied smut, pining, general angst, etc. What's Playing: "Safe & Sound" ~Taylor Swift

Tryst didn't hesitate to come pick you up. You'd been standing at the end of the driveway, hugging yourself and looking dejected by all that had happened. His heart ached to see you like this, but at the same time he was entirely relieved. This meant that you were free of him, free to be with Tryst and away from the abuse you were clearly being subjected to. He couldn't help but pump his fists in his car, celebrating his victory just a little. But he did feel for your situation, it was just that his relief was felt more.

You don't say much as you hop in the car and during the short drive back to his place. Tryst had given his mom a basic rundown of what was going on, worried that she'd be upset at yet another problem. He was still technically on an uneasy probation for his drug dealing ways, promising that he'd quit that line of work, even though that was a total lie. He was still trying to save money, but with a much smaller range of clients, and his big money maker: the IDs was out of the picture now that Guy had moved Zoe and Becca to Ontario to keep them off the radar. He was back to square one. But at least his mom was so relieved he actually had someone who cared about him aside from her that she'd let the intrusion of another person slide.

The pressure of this being more than a hookup, of this being where you were going to be staying indefinitely, at least for now, made the chaotic state of his room more embarrassing. You had some money saved separately, you'd probably ditch him, start over in another town. Ditch both losers in your life.

"Mi casa es su casa." He offers, but immediately bites back his nervous smile when he sees your unimpressed expression at the term. "Sorry, that was stupid."

Your roll you eyes and give him one of the first lighthearted laughs you've had in a while. "You're cute, so I'll let it slide."

As you continue to look over your new surroundings, Tryst can't help but feel nervous about your reaction to it all. Would you hate it? Hate him for getting you into this mess? Regret everything, the moments shared?

He feels the need to break the silence. "I know it's not much, but I hope you'll at least be happy here. Feel safe."

The continued silence on your end does nothing to ease his anxiety, making him fill it again.

"Not to push or anything, and you don't have to tell me, but uh, what happened? First he didn't want you going anywhere and now he's kicking you out-" You give him a look and immediately he backs off. "Forget I asked, you can tell me when you're ready, or not at all, if that's how you're feeling."

"No, it's okay. I'll tell you." You sit slowly on the bed, trying to will composure into your body. "I tried to break it off, many times. I didn't tell him about us because I knew this would happen. I tried to tell him that I wasn't happy, that I wanted to leave. Placate his feelings as much as possible. But he didn't like that, he'd get angry, aggressive, telling me I wasn't shit and I wasn't anyone without him. Threatened my job. Finally tonight, he was waiting for me when I got back. He started screaming and shouting and I just couldn't take it anymore. I told him about us. He flipped out, then kicked me out."

Tryst didn't ask if he'd hurt you, didn't have to based on a forming mark on your cheek. "You want to press charges?"

"I can't. He knows about what you do, he told me as a means to scare me away from you. If I try and charge him he's digging it all up and getting you arrested."

Damn it. So they were stuck. "If it...if it will make you feel safer, you can still press charges. I'll be fine."

"No, no I'm not going to do that to you."

"But if it'll help-"

"I'm not doing it Tryst, I want you here, with me. He can get away with all his bullshit if it means that I get to stay with you."

"Then I'll do whatever I can to make things better for you. To try and give you even close to the life that you deserve."

"So long as you're here with me." You rest your head on his shoulder. "That's enough."

"You sure you want more shifts Trystan? You're already working full time as it is-" His manager had asked him, looking over the schedule that Tryst took up most of.

"Family emergency, I just need more money."

"I can do my best but I have to give you time off."

Tryst sighs. "Yeah I get it. But can you help a guy out?"

"I said I'll do what I can. You're a smart person Tryst, if you applied yourself, you could do great things."

"Right thank you for that, see you tomorrow." He rolled his eyes once he'd turned around. As if he hadn't heard that a million times before. He couldn't maintain this type of life for much longer. You deserved more than his little bedroom, hiding in it only to spend time with his mom and take care of his jellyfish. That wasn't any kind of life, especially when yours had consisted of fancy parties and everything you could dream of there ready for you.

Your ex had managed to get you to lose your job, some kind of flimsy excuse of plagiarism or something else that wasn't enough to land you in jail but enough to make you have to start over. Unfortunately with that big ugly stain against your resume and your recently tanked self-confidence, a job hadn't been easy to find, and Tryst wasn't going to push you either. You needed time to heal first, even if it came at the cost of his work schedule. It was enough to have someone to come home to at the end of the day, if he just had that, it was all he needed to get out of bed the next morning. Having someone there to hold onto in the night, to kiss, to love, it gave him a boost that he'd never had before. Having someone depending on you, it gave him purpose, a reason for all this.

Still, that didn't stop the fears from mounting. Tryst was trying his best, getting up, working all day, only to collapse again at the end of the day. Anything to make your dreams come true. And yet, he feared that you were still unimpressed with him. You'd attested to the opposite but he wasn't sure if he could believe you. How could you? He was a loser who lived with his mom? Anyone would think that you were being dragged down with him, a sinking ship. Better to abandon it before it sunk.

Maybe that was the other reason he was working so much. He didn't want to see you disappointment when he walked in the door. It was easier to face your disappointment when you were already asleep. Tryst could cope with it easier that way.

One night he'd come home early, one of his parties getting raided by the cops earlier than expected. And while Tryst had been let go, the weariness still lingered. He was so tired, so fed up with everything. He wished he could disappear.

"Yeah, he's out working." Your voice carries from the bedroom, and as he peeks through the crack, he can see you're on the phone.

Normally Tryst would've announced his presence, but something in him, the part that longed for self-destruction wanted to hear the cruel words he knew you were about to say. He needed to know each angry thought you had about him, as proof that he really was worthless and had ruined your life.

"No, he's doing great. Honestly. Wait did I tell you this? He comes home, kisses my forehead every night. Doesn't matter how late it is, he still does it. He thinks I'm asleep, but I just pretend."

Tryst smiled to himself, it was the bare minimum, but at least you acknowledged it before the coming verbal onslaught.

"Tryst's working so hard, I wish he'd take it easy. But he's just the sweetest man. It's always been like him to protect, I shouldn't be surprised." A pause. "That's what I love about him."

Tryst had to press his hand over his mouth to muffle the sound of emotion that threatened to give him away. Where were the complaints? The expressed hatred of him that he was waiting for?

"I'm so lucky to have him. He's the only person who's made me feel so loved. Allowed me to be myself. He's just this ray of sunshine that I feel I don't deserve."

Tears filled Tryst's eyes, the rest of your conversation switched to something else, leaving him with the words you'd said replaying over and over. You didn't hate him. You still loved him, thought you were lucky to have him when it was clearly the opposite.

Maybe there was some hope that he could make you happy.

[peachymilkandcream]

YOU WISHED FOR THIS|ALEX WRIGHT X READER|GRAVE ENCOUNTERS X OBSESSION

(A/N: I love the concept of loser Alex, so what if we decided to have the same vibes as Obsession but with Alex? Hope you enjoy and let me know what else you'd like to see!) WARNINGS: obsessive behaviour, ghosts, stalking, dubcon kissing, dubcon touching, possession, self harm, all the shit you saw in obsession, etc. What's Playing: "The Red Means I Love You" ~Madds Buckley

Debris and broken glass crunched and cracked under your footsteps as you and Alex walked through the bathroom of the hospital. For the longest time, he'd dreamed of something like this, bringing you into his world, into his life of making films and the enjoyment of horror. You'd never shown much interest in it, or in him for that matter. The same didn't go for Alex, all he wanted was to show you how much he loved you. The crush that had consumed him for over a year wasn't fizzling out in the slightest, yet he still didn't have the balls to ask you out. Trevor had teased and made fun of him over and over that no matter what, the basic concept of asking out a girl was far too much. Like it was some fucking joke to him. It wasn't to Alex, this had consumed his life all the this time, and his strategy of waiting to see if you'd make the first move wasn't working. Nothing was working. His attempts to hang out with you met with casual dismissals, it was like he was invisible.

You'd agreed to go on this trip because Trevor had practically begged you, saying it would be a fun time. You hated creepy things, but to appease the group asking so nicely that you join them, if anything, to be a pretty model for the camera, as Trevor so kindly put it, you came along. While the spooky atmosphere wasn't exactly romantic, for the first time Alex had you entirely alone, and maybe, with the tension in the air you might be more inclined to look on a protector like him more favorably.

"Hey, can I talk to you a second? It's kind of important."

You don't turn, keeping your flashlight pointed at the walls for any haunted writing or some shit. "Right now? Is this really the best time?"

"Not really, not in the slightest actually, but I need to say it before I chicken out."

"Alright, spit it out." You sigh and turn to look at him.

Alex stares into your face a moment, your perfect face that he'd fallen in love with. Unable to hold it back anymore, it all comes out in a rush. "I like you, I've had a thing for you for like, a year, and I know this isn't the best place to confess that, but I can't help it. I just like you so much, I had to get it out." He should say more, convey his feelings better, but his throat closes up, unable to say more, only capable of awaiting your response.

You cross your arms, suddenly awkward and uncomfortable with how you're supposed to say this. You'd had a feeling that Alex had a crush on you, but had hoped you were wrong, or that he would get over it. Now he'd confessed, you had to address it. "Look Alex, you're a nice guy, but I just see you as a friend, I'm sorry."

His hopeful expression falls. "Right, of course, just friends, got it."

"Now you're mad at me."

"I'm fine, it's part of life. Let's just get back to the others, okay?" He turns away before you can respond, muttering under his breath. "I just wished you loved me more than anyone else in the world like I love you."

As you both head to the door a cold chill rushes over him, and something rustles through his hair and clothes, but the windows are boarded up, and it feels more like a sinister presence.

"Fucking creepy-" He spits out before turning to you, yet you stand there, facing away from him, stark still. "You okay?"

A pause before. "Yeah, hey. Uhm, I'm sorry about how I said that. About what I said." You turn to him now, something different in your expression. Something off.

"You can reject me, it's fine."

"But I shouldn't have, I wasn't thinking clearly." You step closer, the sinister presence following you.

Alex steps back. "You just rejected me like thirty seconds ago, I'd say it was pretty clear."

"Clearer than this?"

You close the distance, grabbing his face and kissing him deeply, he's caught off guard at first. But then reality crashes in, how you'd just rejected him, so then Alex pushes you away gently, despite how much he wants this.

"What's gotten into you? This isn't like you."

"Do you not want it?"

"I do-"

"Then shut up." You dive in again, kissing him harder, hand dipping to the front of his jeans, palming him there. For a man who'd never felt the touch of someone in that way, it doesn't take much to feel him straining against the zipper. Only then does he push you away again.

"C'mon, you just rejected me, you're starting to freak me out."

You stop instantly. "I'm so sorry about all that, you're right, we should get back to the others."

The switch up makes him blink, but Alex doesn't question it. "After you then-"

You head for the bathroom door, and as you leave, Alex notices a dark presence lingering over your shoulder through the bathroom mirror. Must be a trick of the light.

"There you two are, are you seriously going to fuck in the psycho hospital bathrooms?" Trevor's attempt to be perverted would've normally made you wince in disgust, instead you laugh loud, forced. So much so that it catches everyone off guard and makes them look at you. Especially after you get ahold of yourself and send your fist into your own forehead.

"Are you okay-?" Tessa asks, clearly weirded out by your behaviour.

"She's just y'know, stressed." Alex answered for you, not wanting to alarm everyone with your strange behaviour just yet.

"I don't blame her, we have to get the fuck out of here Alex." Jennifer grabs onto his arm, and Alex can see the way your eyes snap to the gesture, staying there. The laughter on your face slowly melts into a deep frown, before you step closer, grabbing Jennifer's hand digging your nails into her skin until she's writhing and crying out, wrenching it off of Alex.

The group stares at you in disbelief, unsure if they're really seeing one of the calmer ones in the group act so aggressively. It was unnatural, out of character.

"The hell is your problem?" Jennifer demanded.

"Hm? Nothing, just wanted to be close to Alex is all." You're suddenly sweet as pie, cuddling up to him, holding his hand with both of yours, smiling tenderly at him and even nuzzling his face with your nose.

"Are you two...a thing now?" Trevor phrased it like a joke, but you beamed at the implication.

"I hope so, Alex told me how much he loves me, so I think we're going to be together forever, right Alex?"

He swallows, wanting to explain exactly what had happened in that bathroom, the sickening feeling he has. But no words come out. He can't manage to say anything. And part of him, the part that so desperately wanted this for so long, relishes at the thought of finally having everything he dreamed of.

"Yeah, forever."

"He's gone, it just sucked him up."

You'd managed to be one of the few who'd survived this fucked up place. And while the others had been terrified out of their minds, including Alex, you couldn't have cared less about what was going on around you. Content and happy just to be by Alex's side, that's all that mattered. It's all you wanted.

"What do we do now?" Jennifer still refused to let him go, to quit clinging to him. It should've been you that held onto him when he was almost sucked up himself. Not her. It couldn't be her. Not anymore.

"We finish the movie." He comments with a soft laugh. "They want an audience."

The camera pans to her, exhausted, tired, but in Alex's eyes you just see a mirror of your own, empty, hollow. You knew that finally you could get what you wanted. You and Alex, alone, just the two of you, forever. You could almost read his thoughts, knew what he was planning with that camera, the first two swings brought her to the ground, blood spurting out. But before he could land anymore blows, you're there. You grab Jennifer by the hair, turning her over and slamming her face into the concrete floor over and over, mercilessly. Despite his murderous resolve, Alex is stunned, but he doesn't stop filming, watching as you smash her face into a bloody pulp, until it no longer looks human, like a person. Long after she's dead you still don't stop, continuing your assault until your murderous rage is satisfied, until you're satisfied that nothing could replace yourself in Alex's heart. That you're the only one.

Once you finish, you smile, covered in blood, laughing and looking at him in pure joy. "Now there's nothing between us, tell me you love me Alex." You take a broken camera shard and stab it into your shoulder. "Tell me you love me." You laugh louder. "Tell me you love me!"

"I love you, so much. So very much." He says to placate you, he'd planned to murder Jennifer himself, but the violence with which you did it....he secretly hoped that he'd be the only one permitted to leave this place.

You smile wider, so happy to be with him, so happy to be in love with the perfect man. Nothing would separate you now.

Alex walks the side of the road, trying to get back to civilization. He would've been overjoyed to be free, should've been, but it was impossible. The weight of his friends dying wasn't what weighed heavy on his shoulders, it was the knowledge of what he was bringing back with him. He looks behind him at where you walk, smiling and covered in more blood than he was. He'd hoped that you'd been left in the hospital, where you needed to be, where he could be safe from you.

It seemed fate had other plans.

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Y'all are gonna hate me for the sheer amount of Richard character oneshots coming, we've got three lined up for this week: Murphy, Alex and Michael, stay tuned babes. Plus the next chapter of Dirty Little Secret comes out tomorrow, keep an eye out ;)

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Quick question for you guys, out of all the characters I write for, is there any you'd really like to see as a Yandere? I'm writing for some Yandere Levi right now and it got me thinking what other characters would be good with the trope. Let me know and I might start writing some oneshots or series with your fav as a Yandere ;)

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Next Series?

Erik Campbell x Reader

Thorin x Reader (Arranged Marriage Trope)

Kidnapper Levi x Evelyn

Thorin x Reader (Second chance trope)

Simon "Ghost" Riley x Reader

Bucky Barnes x Reader (College AU)

Hawks x Reader (Fraud Sequel)

Bodyguard Levi x Actress Evelyn

Voting ended onAug 4

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Deadly Competition|Part 7 (Finale)|Levi x Evelyn AU

WARNINGS: noncon, dubcon, yandere themes/behaviors, misogyny, etc.

It should have been over right then and there. Levi should've fallen right into the beast's mouth and his story would've come to an end. A fallen hero dying in battle to save humanity. He would be remembered for generations to come, children named after him, and pretty tears wept at his funeral. While Evelyn silently faded to the background and tried to forget all the damage that he had done. Her plan had been fool-proof, the end of Humanity's Strongest Solider.

She hadn't anticipated just how unstoppable Levi was.

Just as the jaws closed around his body, a surge of blood mixed with an animal like cry rang through the forest over the roar of the Titan. The blood spray was enough to mask what had happened for just a moment, just enough that Evelyn didn't see Levi slicing through the nape from within. It was true what they said about dying animals, they were far more dangerous since they had nothing to lose.

Instincts kicked in and Evelyn started to flee, if he had lived, who knew what he would do to her now. It was best to put as much distance as possible from him, maybe even fake her own death. Disappear outside the Walls and sneak back in later.

Wind whipped through her hair as she fled, the whirr of the ODM gear drowning out all other sound.

She was sure that she'd been able to get away, that Levi wouldn't get to her when a thud and the screech of metal on metal rang in her ears. Her engine misfiring on her back as she started hurtling to the ground. Behind her, Levi's blade had sunk into the vulnerable components of the system, rendering it useless. He was going to let her die for that mistake, for crossing him. How stupid could she have been to even try and take down Humanity's Strongest Soldier.

Right before she hit the ground, a strong arm wrapped itself around her waist, pulling her up. Levi's stoic face not betraying anything as they flew in the direction of their squad.

"That was a nasty little trick there, Evelyn. I didn't like it. If I were you, I would think long and hard about how you treat me."

The tension was unbearable as the squad returned to the Walls. Neither Evelyn nor Levi mentioned what had transpired in the woods. Whatever his reasoning, it was freaking Evelyn out. Why couldn't he just come out and say it? Expose her to the squad? They could leave her here for dead and then she wouldn't have to live with this dread of what would happen once the gates of Wall Rose behind them. Once Levi got ahold of her. She shivered in fear as the city gates shut behind them, cutting the Titans off from the rest of humanity. Whatever happened now, she wouldn't be able to escape it.

As they brought their horses to the stables Levi was right behind her as she dismounted. "I'll give you the end of the week to live in your fear, then you can come to my office Monday morning."

Evelyn was about to defend herself, but the expression on Levi's face made the protests die in her throat. "Yes sir."

Levi was a master of intimidation, and it was certainly working. It was going to be a sleepless weekend.

Evelyn was sure that it was stress which kept her monthly cycle at bay. But, she was still paranoid, fear of both what this could mean and Levi keeping her awake at night. What if the unthinkable had happened? Should she tell Levi? He would find out anyway, especially if she had to leave the Scouts due to a pregnancy.

Evelyn shivered at the thought. Who knows what Levi would do to her if she had hidden something from him. More than likely it would be nothing, like she thought, just delayed from stress. Best case scenario Levi would be the piece of shit she thought he was and quietly send her away from his squad so that he wouldn't have to deal with his consequences. Maybe there was another way out of her predicament.

"Glad you're on time for once." Levi comments as she sits in front of his desk.

Evelyn lets the snarky remark brush off her, focusing on the task at hand. "I'm late. I thought you should know."

If Levi feels surprise, anger, or disbelief he doesn't let it show. His face is a carefully crafted mask of neutrality. "Is that so?"

"It's most likely nothing. Still."

"Still-" He interjects. "Still it could be something. Something that I have to deal with."

"You really don't have to. Everything has been really stressful for me, so that's probably it."

"No no no..." Levi stands, rounding the desk and putting his hands on her shoulders, rubbing them affectionately. "I can't do that, what kind of man would I be if I ruined you?"

Evelyn tried not to comment considering she knew that he had no problem ruining lives, so long as it didn't hurt his reputation.

Taking in her silence, Levi continues. "I have to take responsibility."

"Really Levi? Why would you damage your precious reputation to claim a baby that is most likely non-existent?"

"I won't do something as foolish as that. That would be disastrous. Now if we married and a child naturally occurredand if not, no harm done."

Dread filled her. "Oh no- we can't- I mean you don't have to-"

"Oh please, no need to thank me. You're lucky I like you so much."

"I don't want to-"

He cuts her off, leaning close and whispering in her ear. "Unless you'd like me to let it slip to the Military Police that you tried to murder your superior officer. How well do you think that would go?"

Evelyn doesn't have a retort for that. All that's left is the sickening feeling in her gut as she realizes there's no choice.

In the end, the delay was just that. A delay. Everything continued regularly, however she was stuck in the marriage with a man she didn't love. Did Evelyn deserve it for trying to kill Levi? She liked to think not, but what she thought didn't matter. All that mattered is what she was told. And that was whatever the hell Levi told her did.

For once, Evelyn conceded victory to him.

The End

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ALL THAT GLITTERS|PT. 1|JOE FERRERA X READER

(A/N: Since the poll got a tie I decided to go with the Joe minific, but don't worry, the next series ends tomorrow and there will be another poll! So this idea came from a blurb of @lovelessdren going feral in the Richard Harmon server I'm in, and while it was going to be a oneshot, I got too much of an idea and had to make it a full series. Hope you enjoy!) WARNINGS: gun violence, mentions of smut, assassinations, graphic depictions of murder, lying, mentions of gangs, etc. What's playing: "Just Dance" ~Sable

Joe sat at the bar of some sleazy little club in the middle of the city. It was more on the underground side, where all the those who didn't want to pay an outrageous door fee came to get drunk and high without consequence. It was also the place where his target would be, a low level thug who they'd gotten word that he was going to spill to the cops everything he knew about the operation Dutch was running. If one guy was threatening to bring down the whole operation? He had to go.

Joe had planned all of this, practically stalked this guy's every step, learned his patterns, his habits, anything that would give Angelo the upper hand in this hit. Finally, after spending too long just washing dishes Joe could finally step it up in the business, make a name for himself, make his dad eat his words. If he showed his skill and ability to follow through on this, then finally he'd be given real jobs, show he could be trusted.

"How's it looking in there, Joe?" Angelo's voice came through the wire in his ear.

"Target hasn't shown up yet, but he should be here any minute." He checked his watch just to be sure. "You're in position?"

"If he goes to his regular table like you said. Your information better right on this Joe, we only have one shot before we're all screwed."

"Trust me, I'm right." Joe couldn't help the smug pride that snuck into his words. Angelo was always doubting him, he was going to prove him wrong.

Angelo falls silent on the other end and Joe keeps glancing at the door. A smirk slowly spreads his face as their target steps into the club, following the exact pattern that Joe had anticipated.

Until you trail in after him.

His brows furrow, he hadn't seen anything about a significant other or anything close. You were either new or your partner had been hiding something about himself to you. Either way, you couldn't be here, leaning in for a kiss, an embrace, anything that could suddenly change the angle of the target's head could make Angelo miss his shot.

"What the hell is going on Joe who's that other one at the table?"

"I- I don't know-"

"It's your job to know-!"

"I've got it handled, okay? Just leave it to me." There's no confirmation of that on the other end, Joe could feel Angelo's fury at his lack of preparation.

He wasn't about to let this whole set up go to waste, he'd worked too hard for this. He had something to prove, he wasn't about to go down like this. If Dutch heard that on his first mission Joe had failed so horribly then he'd be stuck in the dish pit for the rest of his life.

"You're a lazy sack of shit Joe, thirty-five years old and yet you're still living with your parents scrubbing filth for your uncle. No prospects, no girls, nothin', you're useless Joe." His dad's words still rang in his ears, a constant reminder of the shame he had waiting for him at home.

However this time it only sealed his determination to make up for this.

Joe quickly slid up to you, putting on every ounce of charm he could muster. "Excuse me, we're just having an issue with your ID, if you could come with me."

You look up at him in surprise, you'd never had this issue before. "I'm over twenty-one-"

"I just need to double check that it's not fake, now you can either stand over here with me while I check or I'll have to ask you to leave." To his own ears he sounded so fake, and he waited for you to laugh in his face and tell him to fuck off.

But you don't, you sigh with slight annoyance and grab your purse, standing a short distance from Angelo's line of sight as Joe takes his time unlatching your purse and taking out your wallet, carefully inspecting your ID. Up close, a pang of attraction shot through him, but he quickly shook it off, not about to get distracted by something so unimportant.

You don't argue, or tell him to hurry up, just wanting this to be done and over with so that you can get on with your night. You knew that the bouncers here could be fickle, so you weren't about to test the waters and make a fool out of yourself. While you waited, your eyes trailed over Joe appreciatively. Mostly you were here with your date as a last ditch effort to save your failing relationship. Even now you noticed him checking out a few girls, even with you standing there. If he wanted to look, then so were you, at the handsome man in front of you. You always went weak for a man who dressed up like this. Although he was taking an unnaturally long time.

Just as you were about to question if everything was alright, a gunshot rings out and the glass you were just sitting near shatters. Shock kicks in and you freeze, but Joe grabs you as shards would've sliced your face, pulling you close to him and away from the window, holding you tight against him.

After a moment you can collect yourself, only to see your boyfriend slumped over with a gunshot wound in his forehead. Your breath caught in shock, but surprisingly you felt no horror or sadness, merely a faint sense of loss that was numbed by the fear that there was an active shooter and you might be next.

"It's okay- it's okay-" Joe's voice calms you even though you weren't hysterical or emotional. But you appreciated the effort nonetheless, you took it as an opportunity to enjoy the smell of his cologne, the feeling of his body against yours. His quick thinking had saved you an injury, and while he'd been attractive before, you were even more warmed to him now.

"Are you alright?" He asked when he finally pulled away.

"I'm just fine-"

"Get out of here, it's not safe." Joe pushes you away, disappearing into the panicking crowd.

"Wait-!" But he was already gone, leaving you with this strange feeling in your chest and questions that went unanswered.

"You were supposed to account for that fact that he would've had someone with him. Did you do any research at all?" Angelo was already lecturing Joe the moment that they met up after the hit.

"It went well I don't know why you're so upset."

"This one might have, but if you don't do your job correctly the next time it might not go so well."

"Look I get it I'll be more careful in the future."

"You better be, if we fail because of you? I'll put a bullet in your skull next time." He hurries on up ahead.

Joe sighs. "I'm sorry, is that what you want to hear?" He stops following Angelo, standing there and thinking over everything that happened. This wouldn't look good to Dutch, he'd still be put on probation for this, made to trail behind and beg to be put on another hit. If only you hadn't been there, if only-

His mind wanders to you, thinking again how you clung to him after the kill, the way you'd felt against him like you were always meant to be there. He couldn't help but daydream what it would be like to ask you out, maybe even just hook up with you for the night. But it was a ridiculous idea, considering he was a hitman, and he couldn't let you get too close and figure out their operation. Then Dutch would really have his head.

It was a stupid and dangerous idea, better for him to banish it now.

You really tried to forget about Joe, considering you knew nothing about him beyond what he looked like. A normal person would have been mourning the loss of their significant other, but you didn't even shed a tear, if anything you were relieved he was gone, then that hidden fear of the violence that seemed to simmer beneath the surface was gone too. You didn't even go to the funeral.

Instead, you decided to be delusional and start asking people if they'd seen anyone who matched his description. Starting with the club he apparently worked at.

Or not.

"We don't have anyone who looks like that on staff, but I do have his name. Why, you think he was involved in that shooting the other day?"

"Something like that." Was your only reply.

They would only give you his first name, thinking you'd leave it at that, but they had no idea how invested you were in meeting this guy. You had to see him again, see if he felt the same spark that you did. And knowing the people you knew due to your dead boyfriend, those dangerous circles quickly found out exactly who he was.

You might be a fool for going through with this, but you found yourself standing at Joe's front door. The trail leading you here at long last.

He might send you away, even call the cops, but at least then you would have your answer, know that you had been wrong about all of this and you could move on. But until that moment you just wouldn't be able to get him out of your head.

Taking a deep breath for courage you knock, but instead of Joe and older man answers.

"Yeah? Who are you?"

"I'm here to see Joe."

He seems surprised at that, you wondered if Joe had many visitors. "Ay Joe-! Someone here for ya." He gives you a look over with an gaze that made your skin crawl, and the seconds it took for Joe to appear felt like the longest ones you'd ever experienced.

Finally, he shows his face, and Joe gives you a surprised and confused look. "What are you doing here?"

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JOHN MURPHY NSFW ALPHABET (S5-7)

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex) He's cuddling up to you, basking in the fact that there's someone who actually cares for him, someone he can trust. You have to push him out of bed to get him to get something to clean you up since he doesn't want to leave your side. But he won't admit that, make some kind of joke about how you look better this way or something.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) On himself, he doesn't think there's a part of him that's all that special, he's not strong like Bellamy or particularly clever like Raven, he's just John. On you? Any imperfections you have or perceive as imperfections. A scar, a birthmark, a mutation due to radiation, anything that sets you apart from everyone else. It shows you're a survivor, something he deeply admires.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) There's no method to really being safe, and with the state of the world he's pulling out and finishing on you. He'll ask you where you want it, choosing his hand if that's not your thing.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) He wants you to take care of him, he wants to lay there and do nothing while you whisper in his ear that you love him and that everything will be okay. That he can rest now and doesn't have to fight to survive. But that would go against his tough guy sardonic personality, so he's not going to admit it to you.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) After being imprisoned and then basically isolated, he's either a virgin or slept with one or two people at best.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Classic missionary, he likes to look you in the eyes, hold your hand during it, as much skin contact as possible.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Being Murphy, he's one to crack a few jokes, especially at first, but usually the gravity of someone choosing to look past his flaws enough to be with him switches the mood to more intimate and romantic.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Carpet matches the drapes, with everything going on in the world he's been lucky to keep his hair cut, much less anything else.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) He tries to be romantic, but it comes across very forced, when he actually gets into the moment he becomes much more romantic organically, he just has to stop trying so hard to make it that way.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon) Usually a necessity if you're off hunting or scavenging, or if for some reason you're separated. If not, he's waiting for you every time.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks) Body worship, praise, light marking, he wants you both to have hickies, a way to show you both belong to someone.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do) Wherever there's a bit of privacy, he's never picky and when the mood strikes he's one to take advantage of it.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going) Near death experiences are a big motivator, if not then simply implying you're in the mood is enough to get him going.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) Degradation, sharing, knife play, gun play.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) He's a big eater, but to get him to melt is by giving him a blowjob. Someone willing to service him of all people just makes him absolutely weak.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Slow and sensual unless you both have to hurry before getting caught.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)An unfortunate necessity with how their world works, but he does like taking his time with you.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) If there's something you want to try, he's down, but most of the risk comes in the form of not trying to get caught with some of the crazy places you two get it on.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) He doesn't last super long but he's good to go again fairly quickly and can do two or three rounds, unless he's exhausted.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) With the lack of technology, definitely not, food and water are more important than toys.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) He can be the biggest tease, he wants you to tell him how much you want it first. Not only to just be a cheeky bastard but also because he likes hearing you say that you want him more than anyone.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) He can be quiet if the situation demands it, but if you're actually alone lots of gasps and sighs.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Your first time together he asked you maybe a dozen times if this is what you really wanted, it was almost like he couldn't believe that there was someone as perfect as you that would want someone as terrible as him.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) 6 inches, curved.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) High stakes, high adrenaline on the daily, it's pretty high. He wants to take every moment available with you because it might be your last.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) He likes to bask in the glow of being with you, he's up for a while stroking your hair, tracing your skin with his fingers before falling into a blissful sleep.

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FATED|THORIN OAKENSHIELD X READER|SOULMATE TROPE

(A/N: Technically a Dwarves One isn't supposed to be a soulmate as far as canon goes, but if fanfiction has taught me enough it means I can do what I want :DDD So enjoy soulmate Thorin x reader teehee. Let me know if you want me to do more <3)

WARNINGS: Thorin's bad at feelings, soulmates, arguments, a little angst, making up lots and lots of lore around Dwarvish "Ones", mentions of smut, etc. What's Playing: "Caribbean Blue" ~Enya

The crumbled streets of Dale are hardly when Thorin remembered from his days as a prince. Once vibrant markets turned to ruin and debris, not only from the dragon's decimation but the Orcs that had sacked his land and almost claimed his life. The just healed wound on his chest a constant reminder of that battle, the scar would remain for the rest of his days.

As King under the Mountain, Thorin had an obligation to see how his gift was being put to use. Once the dragon sickness had been freed from his mind, Thorin had spared no expense to see the people he'd put in danger twice have their homes rebuilt. A small consolation for the damage caused and lives lost. Still, the weight of it all rested heavy on him when he saw the destruction in person, even with construction underway. Until the place was rebuilt he didn't think he would ever be able to let go of the guilt in his soul.

His reign hadn't been long and yet he was a true and utter failure in all ways. He'd watered the ground with the blood of hundreds of innocents because he couldn't be the master of his own mind. He'd nearly cost the lives of his closest friends and kin. He would die a childless and lonely king, the one basic requirement of a royal to secure the line lost to him now. Had his life truly been nothing of a failure? He'd pass this crown onto his nephews, to fade into nothingness, a memory to be forgotten within a few generations.

It was a sad truth, but a truth nonetheless. At his age, with all he'd done, his reputation, the chances of finding a woman to court, much less marry and have a child with seemed impossible. A complete and utter waste of a Dwarf he was, and nothing could comfort him now.

Still, the people he wronged regarded him respect, politely clearing the way and allowing him by with a simple nod or acknowledgement. It felt wrong to have their respect with everything that had transpired.

As he walked he felt a stirring within his soul far beyond guilt or shame, something electric, fiery that made his head turn. What could have caused such a reaction within him? Thorin looked at all the faces, the spark crackling and alive like a thunderbolt on a stormy night, a wild thing he sought to understand.

It was then that he laid eyes on you, and the feeling that shot through him was as sudden and powerful as a war hammer to his heart. To the very fiber of his bones he felt it, clear and true: this was his One. The perfect match that Mahal had crafted for him. A reward for a weary soul and wearier warrior. His pulse raced, freezing him in place as you passed by, completely unaware of the weight you held over him. Everything about you was perfect to Thorin's eyes, everything he could have ever dreamt of. After all these years, finally finding the one meant for him.

"By my beard..." He whispered with reverence and awe. It takes a moment to snap out of his gawking before Thorin finally approaches you, resisting the urge to bow before your feet and worship you like the goddess you clearly were in human form.

You turn upon seeing the King approach, dropping to a respectful curtsy. "Your grace."

"My lady," Thorin starts, trying to find the words that wouldn't frighten you, but so far only "you will be a fine Queen" and "Our sons will be the most fierce of warriors and our daughters the most beautiful princesses", neither of which he assumed would win your favor. "Such a divine creature such as yourself should be worshiped in temples rather than toiling among the common folk. Mahal has truly blessed this weary soul with the respite that comes upon beholding such a face."

You were put off immediately. Was he trying to charm you? After all that had transpired, your house burnt and sacked twice. All because of the greed of such a king. You'd been surviving enough in Laketown, not rich by any means, but enough to call your existence comfortable. Greed had ruined your life, and now this arrogant bastard sought to find another jewel in his crown. "Your flattery is considerate, but misplaced, your grace."

"Please, just Thorin, it is I who should be using such honorifics for a lady such as yourself."

"I'd rather not, your grace, for it insinuates we are acquainted when we are not."

"Then perhaps that is the first thing we must remedy." Thorin steps closer into your space, the very air between you crackling with the sudden devotion his soul had for yours.

You step back instead. He was charming, and very smooth, but that didn't erase the burns you were still recovering from, the taste of ash and death in your mouth and the smell of smoke in your lungs. "I must get back to work if I'm to have shelter by nightfall."

"I can see that." He remarks, looking around. "Such a hovel isn't befitting a woman such as yourself. Erebor has many rooms and halls that might be filled. A little cluttered and full of dust, but nothing that can't be cleaned and made suitable."

"Forgive my bluntness, your grace. But what are you intentions in speaking to me."

"To get to know a lovely woman better."

"You and I both know that's not the full truth."

"Ah, you see past my charms. Very well, the truth then. I, Thorin, son of Thrain and king under the mountain wish to court you, with the intention of becoming Queen of Erebor."

"Me? You don't even know my name."

"What is a name when you deserve to be called all the precious names in Khuzdul that describe your worth and beauty, but very well, tell me so that I might commit it to memory."

You tell him your name, figuring that was the least you could do.

"A lovely name for a lovely creature. Now that I know it, when can I see you again?"

"Never. Your greed ruined my home, my dreams. I refuse to entertain someone who took everything from me."

You can see the slight sting of hurt in Thorin's eyes, a reminder of all that he'd done and caused. "And for that, there is no apology I can give that would soothe the wounds I've inflicted in my own pride and greed. But I seek to change myself, to become worthy of a heart so precious as yours. If you will but give me a chance."

"I don't see the point, since nothing will change my mind."

Thorin smirks at your defiance, he liked a woman with a little fire. If he could endure against dragon fire, he'd endure against yours. "We will see about that sweet one. I will charm you yet. Until then, I will leave you be." He takes your hand before you can react, placing a kiss on the knuckles as he leaves you to stew in your thoughts.

If he thought you'd change your mind, he was clearly still mad.

"Here I see you return, but without the lady I had summoned in tow." Thorin questioned Bofur and Bifur, the two that he'd sent to deliver you his formal summons. It was a bit of fanfare, he would admit, but Thorin would pull all the stops to make sure that you felt like the royalty you would become as his wife. Besides, he wanted to see you, to have you see his kingdom and what could be offered. He'd already picked out a golden trinket for you, something to officially declare his proposal. The clasps for your braids was already being designed and created.

"Well? Where is she?" He prompted when the two stood there, dumbly, unable to say anything.

"You see-" Bofur started. "We talked to the lass, but she- refused-"

Thorin blinked in surprise. "She refused a king's summons? What did you say to her to scare her off?"

"Exactly as you instructed, but she still said no."

"And what reason did she give?"

"That she, didn't want to see you."

He let out a low curse in Khuzdul. "Infuriating woman. Very well, I'll go see her myself."

"Are you sure that's such a great idea?"

"She's my One, like it or not, she'll have to at least stomach being near me."

You aren't hard to find, the stirring in his soul enough to give you away in the small group of survivors. You were completely unbothered by the fact that you'd just rejected the king, that his delight in you went without so much as a thankful word.

"You, you would refuse the king?" He says upon marching up to you.

You turn with unbothered grace, as if his annoyance was of little importance to you. "I don't see why you're so surprised your grace, I already told you that your interest is not returned."

"It's not about interest, it's about bonds, duty. You're asking a Dwarf to live without his One? That is like asking him to shave his beard-!"

"I don't know what you mean."

"His One, the match that Mahal the Creator put on this Middle Earth to be a perfect mate. The one that every Dwarf dreams of finding, that matches up with their soul perfectly. I have found mine."

You scoff. "You must still be mad."

"You would refuse the bond, the ties between us?"

"I don't believe there's such a thing, so in that case, yes, I reject it."

Suddenly a searing pain shoots through you both, more painful than any dragon fire, something crushing and terrible. Once the pain subsides, Thorin hisses through gritted teeth.

"See what happens when you throw away what you've been given? Dwarrow or not, you've been chosen for me. To separate...it's like ripping out our very hearts."

If you didn't believe him before, the pain in your chest made you believe him now. He was deadly serious, there was nothing about him that would suggest a lie or trick. Besides, why else would the king want you? Marriages in royal families were too precious to be thrown aside for a peasant such as yourself.

"You're not joking."

"I swear on my fathers, I do not lie."

"Then what does this mean?"

Thorin steps closer, taking your hands in his before kneeling before you as if you're some great lady instead of a nobody with no dowry or titles. "It means, my jewel, that we are meant to be wed."

The whole weight of this is a lot, and it takes you a moment to let it process, but looking into his clear blue eyes, you know that tells the truth, and your whole world was about to change.

"The we will be wed."