Jeremy is extremely over-protective of his loved one, especially the one he devotes his heart to. Heâs constantly in your space, fussing and worrying over you.
His possessive streak can get annoying and often suffocating.
He doesnât trust any males around you, Jeremy doesnât trust any of your girl-friends either.
With male friends, it kinda depends of who it is. If youâre friends with any of the heathens, he trusts them and allows you to hang by their side without getting jealous. If itâs an elite prick, he hates them all (Bran is an exception), Jeremy wonât hide his distaste.
With female friends, he remains on neutral terms with them. Though if they annoy him, Jeremy wonât hesitate to take you away from their presence.
When you guys argue, Jeremy will apologise first even when heâs right.
He hates when youâre mad at him and wonât risk the relationship over an argument.
Though if he believes heâs in the right, heâll say something petty as âkarmaâ but still apologises first.
Jeremy Volkov spoils you.
If you evenâjust for a secondâglance at something, heâll go in and buy it immediately.
Every birthday, he buys something that youâd usually tell him not to.
Perhaps an entire island if you asked.
Jeremy Volkov is the type of lover thatâd mark you with jewellery.
Specifically a necklace (or ring).
Heâll buy a necklace with his initials and make you wear it all the time.
It reminds people who you truely belong to.
Jeremy canât help but get all worked up whenever he sees you in, once or twice heâs pulls you aside and fucks your brains out.
If you have any younger siblings, Jeremy gladly helps you look after them.
Your parents even trust him with babysitting duty.
Though he will get annoyed if they suddenly tag along during date nights.
Jeremy Volkov doesnât use social media a lot so if you ever pull a TikTok prank on him, the chances he falls for them is high.
You and Annika love teaming up to annoy him.
Annika loves using you to calm Jeremy down whenever heâs upset, itâs the fastest way to get herself out of trouble.
He doesnât cook often, but for you? Heâll cook as much as he need to.
If you know how to cook, he loves getting lunches made from you. Jeremy gloats to all his friends about what his s/o has packed for him and is smug whenever people compliment your cooking.
If you donât know how to cook, he packs lunches for you. He chooses the most exquisite dishes just to impress you. Jeremy hides his blush when you compliment his cooking.
Jeremy Volkov is the type of boyfriend that takes you out on motorcycle dates.
His motorcycle is his therapy and he happily enjoys it with you.
Rides include driving for hours before stopping at a small picnic area, where you guys just talk about your days together and future.
You guys go on the these rides so much, you begin to reconigse the sounds of his motorcycle engines in your neighbourhood.
Jeremy gifts you a personalised helment for an anniversary.
If you also enjoy riding motorcycles, heâll gift you a custom motorcycle.
Jeremy Volkov would prefer having one kid in the future, the gender doesnât matter.
But the decision lays in your hands.
If you want more than one kid? Sure.
If you want to adopt? Jeremy prepares papers
If you want no kids? Jeremy doesnât mind.
All he wants is you to be his future. He doesnât mind the children, financial situation, or living situation. As long as youâre by his side, Jeremy has the future he wants.
âWould you still love me I was a worm?â PRANK
AVA NASH
âOH MY SWEET TUNE!â
Ava Nash is the type of girlfriend to show you off.
She fucking adores you and she makes everyone aware of it! She gloats about all your achievements and consistently hypes you up to everyone she meets.
Let your girlfriend be proud of you.
When youâre insecure, sheâs not having it! How can her amazing, terrific partner ever feel like theyâre anything below?
Ava comforts you using words of affirmation, and gifts if she needs to.
Ava gets jealous easily and she sucks at hiding it.
If anyone is taking up too much of your time, her lips form a pout, arms crossed and a dark aura surrounds her.
In public, she simply says something snarky and pulls you away.
In private, Ava finds the person and threatens them to stay away from you. Adds sprinkles of insults so they get the hint.
Ava Nash is not afraid to get into a fight for you.
She was raised by THE Silver Queens. Sheâs not the type to kneel to defeat.
Ava Nash gets real possessive when feeling threatened, so tread careful with who you associate with.
If you play an instrument, Ava will expect you to play a song for her.
Sheâll sit silently and close her eyes as she feels the music inside. You catch her smiling when you hit a certain beat she likes.
This might come as a surprise, but Ava Nash is the type to create a Spotify playlist for you.
Sheâll add songs that she believes relates to your relationship, sheâll title the playlist with your initials and hers combined.
Ava Nash secretly listens to the playlist when sheâs stressed or tired.
As much as she enjoys spoiling her partner, Ava would love to be spoiled back.
She loves it when you unexpectedly buy her flowers or other gifts.
Sheâll wear all the jewellery you give her.
If you gift her a lingerie, sheâll want to âtestâ it out immediately.
Ava Nash is the type of girlfriend that steals all your clothes.
If youâre missing a hoodie or shirt, sheâs probably got it shoved in her side of the closet and wonât give it back for atleast a few months.
She loves putting her scent on you.
Whether boy, girl, or nonbinary, Ava Nash will put perfume on all your clothes.
She just loves smelling herself on you.
âŚand it also signals to other people that you have a loyal girlfriend waiting for you back home.
Sheâs marking her territory. Donât judge.
Ava Nash can get insecure which roots from her diagnosis.
Moments like those are when she needs you to help carry the burden, she appreciates words of affirmation and physical touch.
Enjoys it when you cuddle up real close and let her be little spoon in bed.
Ava worries about even the smallest of injuries. If you get a paper cut, she scolds you for being careless whilst staring at you with big, glassy eyes.
She hates it when you get injured.
During parties, Ava expects you to be by her side so then you can protect her or she with you. Though that doesnât mean you guys canât have fun!
Ava Nash will drag you to the dance floor and party the night away, even if you donât know how to dance. Her smile is wide and her excitement is rubbing off on you.
Whilst in the middle of the dance floor, sheâll pull you close and kiss you gently. Her arms wrapping around you and body inching closer.
At some point, she may whisk you away to have some more private fun ;)
Ava Nash is a TikTok girly and thatâs a fact everyone knows.
Every single couple trend, you guys will do it.
Her favourite was the one where she left lipstick stains all over your face.
Instead of you pranking her, itâs the opposite.
She absolutely adores your reactions and always posts them, often finds herself giggling anytime you use memes to express yourself.
âThanks for the flowers!â PRANK
BRANDON KING
âYOUR PERFECTION IS EVERY ARTISTS DREAMâ
Brandon king is the type of boyfriend to draw inspiration from you in every single one of his art pieces.
Every piece he makes, thereâs a reflection of you hiding somewhere inside.
Itâs not his fault he canât stop thinking about you.
Brandon has a strict routine but heâs not afraid to break out of routine whenever you need his help. You always come first.
He tells people that heâs not clingy but no one believes him.
From the moment he wakes up, his hands find themselves touching every part of you. Often giving you back hugs and snuggling his face into your neck.
He finds that your warmth and scent relaxes him almost immediately.
Brandon King is the type of boyfriend to hide his envy with a kind smile.
He gets jealous quickly and struggles to keep it cool.
Whoever keeps taking your attention finds themselves being a victim to Brandonâs death glare and snarky comments. Heâs terrifying when he snaps.
Brandon enjoys quiet dates the most.
Cuddling under a mountain of blankets and pillows, feeling the warmth of your body radiating around him as the two of you watch Poirot.
Brandon king would make you write your signature on his lacrosse uniform before every game. He believes it brings him good luck.
He loves it when you cheer him on in the stands despite pretending to cringe at it. It makes him feel all fuzzy inside that someone is actually taking interest in what he does.
If you paint his jersey number on your face, Bran would go feral. Heâd be all over you, kissing every single inch of your face until you have to psychically pull him off. In private, of course.
Brandon isnât a public affection type person, preferring to keep all of it privately.
Youâre one of the few people, Bran feels comfortable enough to be affectionate with. Youâre quite a special person ;)
If you play tomodachi life and you make miiâs of the two of you, Bran would be so touched.
Literally eyes sparkling and all.
Heâs a gamer when he has free time, so matching characters when playing is something he finds adorable. Itâs one of the unique ways he shows his love.
When playing horror games, Bran is the type of go first if youâre someone who gets scared easily.
Brandon King is the type of boyfriend to take extra care of you when youâre sick.
He makes you all comfy in bed, calls in sick for you if you work, tests your temperature every hour, makes you hot soup and tea to soothe you.
He secretly enjoys it when you depend on him, it gives him a strong sense of control.
Brandon loves it when you take care of him as well.
Such as helping with his skin-care routine, cooking him a meal, picking him up from work and preparing him a warm bath before bed.
It stops insecurity that you donât truly love him from sweeping in and hitting old wounds.
Brandon King hates it when you get into physical altercations, he finds himself tearing up every time he has to clean your wounds.
Those tears are the ones that convince you to stop fighting.
Since taking therapy, Bran communicates more often about his feelings. Whenever he feels overwhelmed, youâre the first person he approaches to seek comfort.
You're the only one who can stop him from spiralling.
When birthdays come up, Bran prefers giving and receiving home-made gifts than material gifts.
He learnt how to crochet so he could make you a plushie of your favourite character.
Brandon shows his love through words of affirmation, quality time and acts of service. His love is deeper than sex and wants to communicate that with you, preferring affections to be kept to kisses and cuddles.
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Yulian sat on the couch at the back of the mansion, legs spread wide open and cigarette in hand, smoke leaving his soft lips slowly as his eyes burned into the couple a few meters away from him.
There, in the midst of the chaotic party, sat his Mishka with his arms around his partner of four months Name. The two were all over each other. Vaughn left bright red marks all over Nameâs neck, one of his hands tightly squeezing their ass while the other pulled them close by the waist.
If he was sharing this level of affection in public, Yulian could easily guess that his Mishka was extremely drunk or on the verge of it.
Yulian should be furious.
He had made a fantastic plan to get with Vaughn, a plan he had been working for since their first kiss in the cave. He even went as far to sleep with Danika and make a huge show about it, hoping to catch Vaughnâs attention.
Which it did but not for long because three months later apparently Vaughn had sudden eyes for some cutie from REU. Their romance blossomed after an accidental meeting at some niche cat cafĂŠ.
He heard whispers that Vaughn was absolutely obsessed with Name since locking eyes with them. Yulian didnât believe it until he caught Vaughn openly stalking the poor soul at a nightclub.
He should be fucking pissed that his MishkaâHis obsession was prancing around like a love sick fool for some random posh kid.
But he wasnât.
Because as he sat there all by his lonesome, watching as the dear couple hungrily make out, Yulian felt his pants tightening and blood rushing to his cheeks. He licked his lips to stop salvia from dripping down.
God. He felt like such a pervert. Yulian adjusted his position, grabbing a pillow and placing it over his lap.
The scene was addicting, a porn-like imagination flooding his head like a tsunami.
Just imagining Vaughnâs lips on Yulians as Nameâthe poor sweetlingâstuck between the two on all fours. One end with Vaughn pounding inside and the other with Yulian face-fucking them.
Yulian almost let out a moan at the thought.
He continued to stare at the couple, face flushed and sweat dripping down his neck. Yulian rubbed his bulge under the pillow, soft huffs leaving his lips. He watched as Name pulled away from the kiss and move to attack Vaughnâs neck, licking and sucking like a deranged beast.
Yulian wished it was his neck Name was sucking on like that. Yulian paused as the thought came in and out his head. He raised his eyebrows, a tiny chuckle escaping him.
Oh?
When did he start thinking like that?
Yulian tilted his head to the side, getting a better look at Name. Their hair was gorgeously styled, the colour glistening as the lights reflected upon them. The outfit they wore fit their aesthetic perfectly, just hugging in all the right spots.
Name was attractive.
A little too attractive one would say.
At that moment, the brunette had an awakening. That the jealousy he felt deep inside was not aimed towards the fact that his Mishka was with someone elseâbut from the fact that he wasnât included in their relationship.
âWell that changes things..â Yulian muttered to himself, interest lacing his voice. âName is rather enchanting.â
He bit his lips to stop a moan, his erection growing harder as images of Name poured into his mind.
The sly sweetling had somehow attracted Vaughn and now Yulian was falling for the same little tricks. âSly foxâ Yulian chuckled to himself, perhaps he did have room in his twisted heart for one more.
Yulianâs attention went back to the scene in front of him. Vaughn was getting up from his spot, one arm still settled on Nameâs backside. The two were walking up stairs with matching grins. It was clear what they were going to explore up there.
Specks of jealousy appeared once more. âWhat I wouldnât give to joinââ Yulianâs thoughts paused as he felt a buzz in his pocket, he quickly grabbed his phone out.
His eyes widened at the message.
Mishka
Name saw you peeking.
Mishka
Join us before I regret asking.
He looked up to see the couple staring right back at him, Vaughnâs expression was cold but the way his lips twitched upwards gave away his true feelings. Name had a warm smile, they held out their hand and made a âcome hereâ motion.
That was all it took for Yulian to sprint towards them with an excited smile.
Saw u were writing for Rina Kent so I want to request jealousy headcannons for Landon King, Remington Astor and Brandon pls đđ
JEALOUS MUCH?
Summary: Jealousy Headcannons for Brandon King, Landon King and Remington Astor.
Warnings: swearing//jealousy//suggestive content//smut is there but not fully detailed/described//possessive behaviour//obsessive behaviour//violence//pervy side character//insecurity//implied unhealthy habits
Reader: GN!Reader
Notes: Itâs hard writing for Remington considering he doesnât have a book and I donât want to write him like a carbon copy of his father 𫩠but Iâll deal with what I have.
Laughter was heard all around as the party roared to life, stressed college kids having the time of their lives, forgetting about any assessments they had prior to the gathering. Water splashed as someone jumped in the pool, music blasting through the speakers, and public orgies being performed to the entertainment of others.
It was a typical Royal Elite University party.
No one would remember the events of the night before, which made it easier to forget any mistakes made but for one unfortunate person, theyâd remember that night for the rest of their lives.
âOh câmon on sweets, just one night. You, me, together in bed?â The drunk stranger giggled feverishly, his hands shamelessly rubbing your back, nails just barely leaving marks.
You groaned in annoyance, eyes twitching. âGet off asshole!â, but even then the stranger laughed as if he was getting off on your annoyance alone.
The man was persistent. He couldnât seem to take ânoâ for an answer which was exactly why you felt bad for him because from the way your boyfriend was approaching rapidly, it was clear he wasnât about to leave freely.
LANDON KING:
âAnd what do we have here?â
Landonâs jealousy is easy detect.
From the way his fists tighten, from the way his eyes darken furiously and from the way his words bite like venom.
Heâs crazy for you and he doesnât try to hide it.
And if this guy keeps bothering you, thereâs no telling what heâll do to him.
Landon uses his ego and mere presence to scare this guy off but if that doesnât work? Landon is going straight to violence.
So violent that the on-lookers can feel the bone crushing hits themselves despite never being apart of it.
âTheyâre mine. Touch them and Iâll ruin you for life.â
No one sees that guy again.
No one bothers you again.
Trust youâll be dealt with as well.
Mainly just so he can feel that control again. He needs to know that he still has you. Just to ease that insecurity he still claims he doesnât have.
Your night spent together is rougher than usual, a handprint on your gorgeous neck and hickeys seen openly all over your body.
Donât try to hide them.
Heâll redo them until theyâre perfectly drawn all over your body.
He wantsâno needs everyone to see them, so they know exactly who you belong to.
In secret, Landon will probably be softer than usual. He tries to hide it but ultimately fails.
All his life people have treated him like he was a monster, he needs to know you donât see him like that after his jealous outburst.
JEALOUSY RATING : 10/10
BRANDON KING:
âBack. Off.â
Brandon claims he isnât as possessive as his brother but thatâs simply a fat lie.
His eyes flash with pure hatred, teeth grinding against one another and his breathing slightly unstable.
His hands find their way around your waist, pulling you closer to him.
His grip was definitely gonna leave marks after.
âDonât touch my partner like that ever again, you fucking hear me?â
Brandon would get violent, possibly just a shove or two (maybe more if the guy is persistent) but he prefers to use his venomous words instead.
Blasting him insult after insult until he leaves.
Depends on how angry he is, Brandon may even use his connections to punish the pervy stranger.
Possibly calling in Landon and his cousins to deal with him.
You donât need to know the details.
He doesnât like you seeing that part of him.
After the incident, heâll cling onto you desperately.
Holding you closely that night. Kissing every inch of your body until thereâs nothing he hasnât claimed. Whispering sweet nothings in your ear as he inserts himself.
Brandon âjealous so I gain a lot of staminaâ King
First round is soft. Second round not so much. Third..fourth..you lose count but you know the sun rose a few minutes ago.
Reassure him before, during and after sex. Itâs the only way heâll feel better.
Brandon tends to get insecure fast which leads to unhealthier habits, heâs in a bad mental state for a bit and he needs you to be there for him.
JEALOUSLY RATING: 10/10
REMINGTON ASTOR:
âYou sure are comfortable, huh?â
Itâs sometimes hard to tell the exact moment Remington is jealous. He hides it well under that jester smile of his.
But itâs there. You just need to look closer.
Look at the way his eye twitches, look at the tight smile on his face, look at the way his aura darkens significantly.
His Jealousy can be deadly.
Remington disguises his insults as jokes. But everyone can hear the truth in his words and thatâs probably what makes the pervy stranger uncomfortable enough to leave.
âOh! If you need the exit, itâs right there. Make yourself comfortable.â
He doesnât get insecure because he feels secure enough in his relationship with you but often at times, it does strike a nerve.
#2 to probably get his friends to deal with the issue if he canât.
Would somehow find a way to get that guy into those fighting rings just for the fun of it.
Remington still also decides to be rough that night (not like he isnât every night but still)
He loves insulting the âmanâ whilst heâs pounding it deep inside, chuckling every now and then. He enjoys the feeling it evokes in him.
Also a marker.
Gosh. Every inch of you was marked in some type of way. Some marks difficult to hide cause you canât even reach em and he refuses to help.
He makes sure youâre with him at every party now and if he canât, he would probably make Creighton stalk you around to ensure your safety.
And the icing on the cakeâŚHeâd post a picture of you in his bed, marks visible, sex hair all out and blanket just barely covering you on his insta feed.
Remington makes sure that picture is sent to that pervy guy.
He laughs out loud when he realises the guy blocked him.
âGET OUT THE WAY WHORE! THATâS MY PARTNER!!â
Nikolai is the most supportive ever
He would buy all your merchandise, seriously. A water bottle to a gigantic billboard with your face one it. He doesnât stop.
Knowing his possessive behaviour he would probably fight with your fans all the time.
Anytime any fan on TikTok professes their love for you, just know heâs going to end up doxxing them.
Heâll only stop if he notices it does damage to your reputation (he couldnât care about his own)
God. Your fans would either hate or love him. Thereâs no inbetween.
The type to keep promoting you on all his social media platforms.
Every single concert, he attends. Every single one. Even on days he has exams.
He screams at the top of his lungs and is basically the leader for your chants. People near him have to block their ears. Even security canât stop him from cheering on his love.
Nikolai absolutely loves all your concert outfits. Makes sure to do a quickie before you leave.
Yeah people know.
âPlease! Just one hickey! Theyâll totally eat it up!â
Gets jealous when tv hosts flirt with you on tv.
Posts hate comments under hate videos of you.
Keyboard warrior number 1
A secret he wonât ever spill is that he reads fanfics of youâŚand gets extremely horny reading them sometimes.
No scratch that. All the damn time.
Thatâs the reason yaâll have been fucking around like bunnies since heâs met ya.
But overall, he loves you a lot and treasures your talent.
Heâll definitely play your music at your wedding.
Thatâs just law.
JEREMY VOLKOV
âWRITE A SONG ABOUT ME, DARLINGâ
oh heâs absolutely obsessed with you.
Your voice, your beautyâŚyouâre perfect for him.
If you write a song about him. God. Heâd propose to you on spot or fuck the shit outta you. 50/50 chance of it both happening as well.
Promise you, Jeremy would get tattoos of your album song titles and show it off to everyone.
Whenever heathens car pool, he plays your songs like itâs religious music.
Glares at them when they try to turn it off. Possibly even kicks them out.
Jeremy does not play about you. Which is why he finds a way to hunt down your haters and either sue them or beat them to pulp.
Everyone notices that your hate is basically nonexistent.
Watches all your shows, Interviews, TikTok, instagram, and even Facebook videos.
Not ashamed to post himself post-work out to your music.
âRemember you belong to me.â
Can get possessive fast whenever thereâs a fan hanging around too long.
As much as he appreciates their support, he cannot and will not tolerate their flirty nature towards you.
Has gotten cancelled online for his..problematic behaviour.
Like everyone collectively just talks about how you deserve better.
He crashes out and yall fuckâŚagain and again and again.
Youâre never escaping him.
CREIGHTON KING
âNEED ANY HELP?â
surprisingly very supportive.
He doesnât use his words a lot but his actions mean everything.
Creighton buys all your merchandise and hangs them around your shared home like their prized possessions (they are)
He separates you and your singer persona so then you never feel as though he only loves you for your place in the music world.
Despite the fact that the music you produce may not be his kind of vibe, he still actively listens to it in private.
Calls it his âmotivationalâ music.
If you ever feel burn out, Creighton is by your side every step of the way. Helps you find motivation, takes you to unexpected trips, spoils you around the mall or simply just listens to you rant. Heâs there until the end.
Gets jealous very easily.
Itâs probably why youâve asked your fans on multiple occasions to leave you alone when your out with friends (cough crieghton)
Itâs safer that way (for them ofc)
Creighton enjoys his privacy just as much as he enjoys comfortable silence, so sometimes if you run into a chatty fan whilst on a date. Just know that he WILL do something about it.
Possibly gets into a fight with them. Verbal or physical, their choice.
âTheyâre spamming me againâŚâ
Creighton is a private person as discussed before. He doesnât post much about your relationship aside from the occasional hands holding, Faces covered inspired pics.
Fans harass him a lot to post.
Youâre gonna have to make a statement soon.
Loves going to your concerts, as long as he stays backstage and away from everyone.
Takes pictures and itâs the only way he spams his socials.
Helps the security have close eyes on any suspicious âfanâ
Which leads to another thing. He always, and I mean ALWAYS checks the gifts you receive from fans.
He is all about your safety and your comfortability.
GARETH CARSON
âSING FOR ME, JUST ONCE. PLEASE.â
your fans fucking love him.
They make edits of the two of you constantly, mostly just yall âlookmaxxingâ together.
They view him as the picture perfect boyfriend, gushing about him on posts and overall very supportive of the relationship.
He is the picture perfect boyfriendâŚbut sometimes Gareth reaches his limit.
Despite their love for him, he on the other hand cannot stand them.
He hates their possessive behaviour over you. I mean, you belong to him.
Gareth couldnât care less about their opinion about him.
But for you, heâll pretend every day.
Gareth is very supportive of your career, seeing as he was the one who paid for all your singing classes back when you were a niche artist.
That was his favourite era.
A little fanbase that doesnât harass you every day? Him still getting to see you? Him being âallowedâ to be affectionate with you in public without worrying about a fan stalking them?. Yeah he loved it.
Donât get him wrong, he loves that youâre finally popular and doing well but Gareth just wants you to himself more often.
Also those fans back then were much more tolerable.
âI love you so much. Donât let me lose you to that worldâ
Gareth worries about your mental health, heâs seen and heard about what happened to celebrities and he doesnât want that for you. Ever.
He makes sure you attend therapy every week, makes sure you eat regularly and makes sure to constantly profess his love for you.
Gareth is obsessed with your voice.
He has several secret recordings of you singing at home. He plays them when youâve gone on tour and he misses you
Probably touches himself to them as well but you donât need to know that.
Gareth has sued some âfanâ/haters for their inappropriate behaviour on multiple occasions.
Doesnât play about you fr
Donât flirt with fans. He will not handle that well. Would most likely spam you if he saw those live. Be expecting punishment when you come back to him.
Overall, Gareth is a protective boyfriend who only wants the best for you, he loves you so much that heâs willing to do anything for you.
Just make sure he doesnât end up doxxing your fans when you guys argue.
You sat across from one of your classmates in your dorm, going over the class materials. You had been assigned as his tutor since he was failing his classes.
Quite horribly youâd add.
It didnât help that he didnât seem focused on the homework at all. His eyes were stuck onto you like glue. It had been like this for hours. Youâd help him but heâd purposely get it wrong so youâd lean in closer.
âHey..â he began, âthereâs this cafĂŠ Iâve been wanting to try. Wanna come with?â
The door creaked. The two of you turned to face your boyfriend, whose eyes burned into your classmate.
He focused on the space between the two of you, which was almost closed as the boy leaned in closer.
ELI KING
âGET THE FUCK AWAY FROM THEMâ
Eli doesnât hide how he feels. He shows them.
The glare directed onto your classmates would send him to the depths of hell if he could do that.
He doesnât take lightly to those who try to steal his obsession away from him.
Eli marches right towards you, pulling you away from your classmate and holding you tightly against his chest.
His grip is suffocating.
âIf you donât leave rightââ
He doesn't need to finish his sentence before your classmates rushes out the dorm, his footsteps thundering in the halls.
Eliâs just scary like that.
Eli has a habit of pretending like he doesnât get jealous. Heâll brush the situation off but the way his posture is tense, itâs easy to see the truth.
Heâs angry. Very angry is all heâll say. He wonât take it out on you!
Who am I lying to?? He definitely is going to.
Heâs rough that same night, marking you in all the places you didnât even know could be marked. His pace is hard and fast, he doesnât intend to stop any time soon.
Despite claiming not to be jealous, all he talks about is his classmate. Insulting his cock size, his intelligence and his financial situation. Honestly complains about everything.
Itâs just so he knows that you know how much better he is than anyone else that tries to take you away.
If your classmate stops talking to you, ignore it.
If he shows up to classes, ignore it.
And if he just so happens to completely stop showing up to class, try your best to ignore it.
Because Eli King will not tell you what has happened to the unfortunate being.
Itâs only a month later you hear that your ex-classmate moved all the way to Australia with no hope heâll ever move back.
It doesnât take a genius to figure out who did it.
Kings donât bend to those beneath them and Eli King takes that very seriously.
JEREMY VOLKOV
âGET ANY CLOSER AND ITâS YOUR BLOOD ON THAT WALLâ
He doesnât hesitate to push your classmate away, fisting his collar and practically growling at the man.
He wouldâve punched him if Jeremy wasnât so afraid of accidentally hitting you in the process.
Jeremy doesnât hide his jealousy, he wouldnât be able to even if he tried.
His eyes are darker than usual, fists tight and his breathing a little unstable.
It almost scares you
It does scare your classmate.
âLeave. Now.â
No need to say anymore. He sprints away. You could hear him trip over at some point.
Jeremyâs next target is you.
doesnât hesitate to throw you over his shoulder and storms into your bedroom.
Donât think youâre getting out of that room with working legs.
Your body aches everywhere. You can still feel his lips exploring. You can still hear his harsh words just as you remember his sweet words.
He was intoxicating.
Jeremy watches closer than usual, making sure no one else tries to approach you. He follows you around your uni, your friends giggle at his protectiveness.
Even alone in your bedroom you can feel someone watching. It might be the teddy bear Jeremy got you a few nights prior.
You pretend like you donât notice the shadow watching you when you sleep.
Your classmate doesnât talk to you anymore. He ignores you completely, even going as far to change his subjects.
When you tell Jeremy, he only smirks and leans down to kiss you.
Softly demanding you to âstop askingâ
When you accidentally see your classmates with bruises all over his body.
You say nothing once more.
Thereâs no point in asking Jeremy or any of his friends, he and them wonât spill anything.
But your eyes wonder at Nikolai's bruised knuckles and Killianâs dangerous smiles.
You notice that Jeremyâs signature weapon has stained blood all over.
Guess thatâs what happens to people who mess with the wrong person.
KILLIAN CARSON
âWHATâS THIS NOW?â
A tiny smirk is painted on his face, almost mockingly.
He steps inside and carefully stands you up from your seated position, hand caressing your back gently.
Heâs calm or well others would think he is but you see it.
The murderous glint sparkling in his eyes.
He takes your previous spot, sitting close to your classmate who is already sweating. Killian leans in close, a humourless chuckle escaping his lips.
âFlirting with whatâs mine? A dangerous game.â
Killian treats it like a joke but everyone senses the disturbing aura radiating off of it.
Your classmate can only nervously laugh, his eyes already searching for an escape.
KIllian notices. He laughs.
All of this is like a game to him.
He continues to humiliate the poor boy, poking at his cheeks, telling jokes that hold threats and pointing out all his flaws.
Killian wonât stop until you tell him too.
Your classmate sprints away the moment Killian looks away.
The second heâs gone, Killianâs attention is immediately on you.
His signature smirk plastered all over his face.
Youâre not escaping his wrath anytime soon.
He enjoys playing with you roughly, tying you to the bed frame as he does whatever he wants.
By the end, once he believes your clean of your classmates filth, will he touch you gently then.
Building you back up, applying wet kisses on the hickeys lingering on your body.
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Omg u can't just drop the fact that Krueger knows about niktos girl and not elaborate on it đ like did this guy just break in the house and found out /jj
Yes Iâm so glad you noticed!! I try to make it a common theme throughout all my Nikto fics that Krueger knows about her, and Nikto absolutely hates it. They might be kind of/sort of friends, but Krueger is a different breed of crazy. I got a little carried away and wrote for this because I love the break in ideaâ
TW: attempted sexual assault (which was stopped) and Krueger. A continuation of the Nikto fics I've been posting on here recently. Unedited, as always
Kruegerâs known about Niktoâs âpetâ for a while now. It wasn't really hard to figure out, since he knew where to look. And Krueger was nothing if not a nosy bastard.
The first giveaway was Niktoâs phone. They were standard issue at KorTac, everyone was required to have one in case of emergency. Never once had Nikto opened it, nor had he bothered to learn how to use it. So, when he suddenly seemed to check it more often, of course Krueger grew suspicious.
He attempted to snatch the phone on multiple occasions. Nikto kept it unlocked, since he had no clue how to enable the password feature. The only picture on his camera roll was blurry, taken by an unsteady hand that clearly didn't know what it was doing. It was of you, your face tilted to the side as you were doing... something. He couldn't really tell. And the more he tried to decipher the photo, the more he believed that it had just been a fluke. A picture taken completely by accident.
From what little Krueger could see, he still knew you could do better than Nikto's deformed face. Not to mention his personality, which was just as horrid. Another poor, unfortunate soul that fell into bloody hands.
Normally, he would have left it at that. Nikto finally had a good whore to go back to, good for him. He would have assumed Nikto killed the girl immediately after.
But then there were the texts. At least once a day, the annoying, standard ringtone blared from the little black phone. Then Nikto would stop everything just to reply.
It was weird.
So Krueger formed a plan. It was flawless. Next time Nikto checked his phone, he'd snatch it and flip through the chats. Surely, if he had a toy stashed away Nikto would have told him. They were partners, after all.
But, as soon as Krueger tried, Nikto quickly threw his phone to the ground and smashed it under his heel. The big baby was always so dramatic.
Now, Krueger was more curious than ever. Nikto had a secret, and he'd stop at nothing to unearth it.
Flash forward to Thursday night. There was yet another long debrief. Krueger didn't care to listen. As long as he'd get to kill, he wouldn't complain about their next mission. And if they did well, they would retain the freedom of having a life outside of KorTac. An absolutely terrible idea on management's part, but he wasn't about to complain. Not when it gave him the perfect opportunity to sneak out a few moments before Nikto and scope out his home. Simple recon, that was all.
Nikto was taken aside with Konig while the rest of the operatives were dismissed. That meeting would no doubt end with Nikto blowing up at the Austrian man, most likely bashing his face in again. He never could stand Konig. But that gave Krueger a headstart.
Finding Nikto's house was far easier than breaking in. It was a surprisingly nice cottage far out from everything else, just within the parameters of where he was allowed to live. Surrounded by trees, there was enough covering for this place to go unnoticed. Entering through the front door was not an option, Krueger knew that Nikto had definitely installed a stupid amount of locks, and probably rigged some sort of trap or two.
So, he went through the back window. It was a challenge to get in, and fuck, if Krueger didn't love a challenge. It simply meant that the treat locked away had to be worth the effort. You had to be so sweet if Nikto kept you hidden like this.
After shimmying inside, Krueger took his time walking around the house. It was nice, he had to admit. KorTac's salary was unrivaled, especially considering the missions they gave to their operatives. It seemed Nikto's paycheck went to this place, Russian books and tiny knick-knacks decorating the shelves. There was no way in hell Nikto bought the latter for himself, confirming his suspicions. Someone else lived here.
Unlike in his stealth missions, Krueger touched everything, acquainting himself with his partner's living space. He missed the days when Nikto lived on base with him, locked away in a small cell across the way from his. Nikto could pretend all he wanted, but this âhomeâ he created would never be real. It was all a sad, desperate facade for a life he would never have. Krueger didn't care to play house, even if he had his own toy locked away, he was only using Lucas for sex. Nikto clearly gave you a higher role.
He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't notice that he was in the living room until it was too late. Soft breathing lured him in, a lullaby whispering to him to suffocate the breath for good. Krueger never could keep his hands to himself.
You were curled up, asleep on the couch, waiting for Nikto like a well-behaved pet. The blurry photograph Krueger had seen did not do you justice. He'd have to show Nikto how to get the good angles, making sure to spread your legs for the camera so he could see the perfect moment when he thrusted in. Yeah, Nikto was due for a good lesson. And with a thing as pretty as you, why wouldn't he want to keep your pussy in his pocket at all times?
Krueger circled, stopping right infront of you before crouching down to your height. It was truly a shame you were rotting away with such an ugly man. While he was here, he might as well give you a taste of what you were missing.
"Wakey wakey!" The loud, accented chirp echoed through the room.
You shot straight up, eyes bleary and hair a mess. You looked around the room wildly before your gaze finally landed on him.
"You're not Nik..." The realization came slow. Then, all at once. You kicked yourself back, scrambling over the back of the couch in an attempt to flee.
Only for Krueger to catch you by the ankle and pull you back to the cushions. âOh, you're smart,â he mocked.
"Let go of me!" You screeched as you thrashed wildly. "Nikto will kill you! Get away!"
He laughed at your struggle, the sound airy as if he were with a friend rather than scaring the shit out of you. Nikto always preferred obedience, acceptable, but Krueger? He favored the girls who fought.
"I'm sure he will," Krueger hummed. "But why don't we have a little fun beforehand, ja?"
Tears were already starting to fall down your cheeks. Why hadn't Nikto told him he had such a pretty crier locked away? It was so unfair. Krueger would have been more than willing to offer his partner on the field a taste of his toy, Lucas, at home. They were supposed to be a team, the two resident psychos of KorTac. Hiding secrets was never a part of the deal.
"I want you to leave," you said quietly, but coherently. So you were using your words. Nikto truly did train you well.
"Well, that doesn't really matter, now does it?" Keeping one hand on your stomach so you'd stay pushed down, he used the other to push the heel of your foot against the bulge in his pants. It had been there since he was shown the footage of his last kill at KorTac. Nothing quite did the trick like gore. "Nikto, you see, he is like a brother to me. Does it not seem right for him to share his toys?"
You attempted to kick his balls, which he blocked, moving your foot away from his cock. He continued with a tut, "Nein, nein. None of that. Just giving a quick inspection."
As he tried to pry your legs apart to see what Nikto had been so desperate to protect, you wouldn't stop fighting. You were surprisingly strong, most likely from the times you fought off Nikto when he first stole you away. Krueger had thought Nikto would have beaten all the fight out of you by now. Surely you didn't think you belonged to him alone, did you?
You were screaming now, too. Nearly making Krueger's ears bleed. "Quiet, bitch."
"He'll kill you!" you spat in his face, hair mussed by the couch cushions. "Nikto will fucking kill you if you don't get off me!"
Krueger laughed. "You truly think you mean that much to him? You're just a toy, Schatz."
You started to shake as more tears fell. Shit. Krueger recognized what happened in an instant. You were going hysterical. This place, your situation, had caused you to teeter to the the edge. And Krueger had accidentally given you the final shove. Nikto was totally going to kill him.
As if on cue, the door swung open. And out came the man you kept whining so insistently about.
Krueger let go of you, allowing you to scramble to close your legs as he gave Nikto a shit-eating grin. "There you are, big guy. We were just talking about youââ
Nikto was on him in a second, grabbing him by the throat and throwing him against the nearest wall. A method of killing they both shared. The brutal asphyxiation made Krueger hornier, if that was even possible. He really should check in with a doctor or psychologist about a way to fix the 'compulsive sexual disorder' his last shrink diagnosed him with.
When Nikto finally spoke, it was a single word.
"Leave."
He didn't bother sugarcoating, he never had and he never will. Nikto was the same overly competitive, overly territorial man Krueger knew on the field. A mirror image of himself. It was intoxicating.
The pressure on his throat made it hard to respond, but that didn't stop Krueger from trying. "No way to... welcome guests... to your home."
Nikto would have been content to kill him and they both knew it. They had been in this situation various times before, just on opposite ends of the knife. They were brothers in arms, fellow psychos. Even if they were the same, they would not hesitate to kill each other. That had been clear since they had first been partnered up.
And oh, hadn't Nikto been so close to killing Krueger. They were the same in so many ways, lacking boundaries and sanity. But they showed it in very different ways.
It may have been another spirit that possessed Nikto at that moment, or perhaps your terrified expression, because he dropped Krueger, who didn't so much as flinch during the whole interaction.
"Why did you come here?" Nikto asked, crossing his arms and standing directly infront of you, blocking you from Krueger's line of sight. You were still on the couch, confused by the man in your home, and terrified of what he almost did to you.
"Why'd you hide such a pretty toy from me?" Krueger countered, shooting you a wink you didn't even seem to register.
Nikto did not return the playful tone. There were many reasons he could give, but the answer was pretty simple. Nikto didn't like Krueger knowing about you. Not because he didn't trust you, but because he didn't trust Krueger. He's watched the man jerk off to dead bodies on the field, he knew Krueger kept pictures of the bloody corpses of women he bedded. So yeah, Nikto tried to keep you under wraps. Nikto may be a violent nutjob, but Krueger would tear you apart and leave nothing left. At least Nikto took care of his pets.
Nikto had to look up at Krueger to meet his eye. He muttered a single, sharp insult. "You are filth. You do not deserve her.â
Krueger scoffed. "A little hypocritical, don't you think?"
Things were quickly turning ugly. Neither man had enough impulse control to back down from a fight. Neither had ever *lost* a fight to begin with. And Nikto had no qualms beating a man to a bloody pulp infront of you, especially after what he walked in on. You had seen him do much worse.
Surprisingly, it was Krueger who conceded, leaning against the wall like he owned the place. "Alright, I'll back off. For you, Bruder."
That was most likely a lie. Krueger was never content with his own toys, he wanted to take others, too. Break them until they were unusable. He was greedy and sadistic, which is what made him such a good killer.
For all the shit Nikto put you through, somehow, he was still better than Krueger. You were still curled in on yourself, not yet coming to terms with the mindfuck of what happened in a matter of minutes, or how Krueger was casually walking to the window without a care in the world. Apparently, once you got used to one psycho, another, worse one appeared in his place.
âCome over for tea sometime,â Krueger said, throwing a sleazy smile over his shoulder, offering a wave as he jumped out the back window. âIâm sure my Lucas would love to have a little playdate."
You prayed to whatever god would listen that you never saw that man again. If he was the alternative to Nikto, you were happy to stay in your little prison, picking up the scraps of comfort you were offered.
Or perhaps that had been Krueger's plan all along. Youâd spend the whole night in Niktoâs arms, crying and clinging to him. He was doing his friend a favor, strengthening your dependence so you would never feel enticed to leave. It was the least he could do for Nikto, after all, they had been partners for so long.
If you took one of the boys home, and you had a big ol' dog, I think that...
John would do the thing where instead of petting the dog, he just lovingly pats it's side..."The dad pat". And he's definitely sharing whatever he eats with the dog, too (as long as it's safe for the dog, ofc...he wants to spoil the dog, not make it sick).
Kyle would be on his best behavior with the dog...Until you're not looking. As soon as you leave those two alone, he riles the dog up. You'll be on an important call when there's just a cacophony of barking, play-growling, and stomping from a few rooms over.
Since Johnny doesn't like dogs all that much, he would try to stick close to your side...Or wherever the dog will leave him alone. But alas, the dog definitely decides that he's their new best friend, father, playmate, and everything else that involves Soap being as close as possible. Wherever the Scot goes, the big puppy isn't far behind.
Simon is on the opposite end of the spectrum when compared to Johnny. Simon LOVES dogs, and he comes prepared. Every time Simon comes through your door, expect a gift for you...And one for the dog. Suddenly your dog has a skull bandana to match Ghost, and looks almost disappointed when you come home without him sometimes.
The Shadows already have some German Shepard's and Belgian Malinois on the team...So when Phillip sees that you have a dog that's bigger than the ones he's used to working with, he's excited. Phillip is high-energy, your dog has a lot of pent up energy...Take them to the park, and just watch them both run, play frisbee, fetch...They could do this for hours. And when you get home and the dog is sound asleep, Phillip will still have enough energy for you.
KĂśnig would IMMEDIATELY try picking the dog up like a baby. As soon as he knows the dog won't try to rip his face off, he just scoops it up into his arms. Half as a show of strength ("Look, Schatzi...They weigh nothing to me!"), and half because I can't help but see him as an animal lover. And if you're watching a movie, or cuddling, or doing anything together, nine out of ten times he'll want the dog to come. Sorry, but that's his baby now, too.
This can be unrelated to the nikto series you have but how would nikto fair well in a relationship where he has kids 0,o?
My ask got sent before I finished it đ okay same anon that asked the kid thing, I just wanna add some ideasâLike I imagine nikto isn't really the best dad, I personally see him as someone that can be rlly distant
Also i can definitely see him trying to raise his kids with a 'tough love' act
Okok I have wanted to yap about this since forever. My thoughts on this one are all over the place so we're skimming the surface to cover a large amount of time. It's mainly jumbled ideas but I have the vision. I'm keeping it roughly in the pet timeline because I want the situation to be the same, just a different ending.
-
To put it bluntly, Nikto would be a terrible father. In fact, he never even wanted to be one. Knowing what traits and mental disorders he would pass down to his children, he did not want to risk having them around that or inheriting it. Besides, he can't even be in the room with an adult. Kids are far more unpredictable, and he is not a safe person to be around, whether he cares about you or not.
So, when you got pregnant, it was completely on accident. Neither of you realized what was going on at first, chalking the morning sickness up to your post kidnapping depression, but eventually, the pieces fell into place. You hadn't been on birth control since you had been taken, and Nikto obviously hadn't been using a condom.
Immediately, you suggested an abortion. You didn't want a child to have to live the life you had been for months. And Nikto agreed. He didn't want a kid, it was too risky in his line of work if somebody found out, and he didn't want you to go through the pain of giving birth.
But then he picked apart the plan. He didn't want to take you to a doctor in case you tried to run, and he didn't trust himself or anyone at KorTac to perform an abortion safely. And he remembered the way his mother used to talk about him and his brothers. She called his birth, "ŃĐ°ĐźŃĐš ŃŃĐ°ŃŃНивŃĐš Đ´ĐľĐ˝Ń Đ˛ ПОоК МиСни."
Was there a small chance that growing his family would make him happier? Kidnapping you certainly had. And a baby... perhaps it would give you something to do while he was at work. You had made it clear that you needed more than him to keep from falling back into a depressive spiral.
Nikto told you how he changed his mind, probably the only time he had. You looked hesitant to agree, but you didn't argue.
And since that night, you've seen him less and less. He'll be by your side two seconds flat if you need help, but other than that, you rarely see him. He even took to sleeping on the couch just to avoid you in bed. Being alone made the pregnancy even more unbearable.
But Nikto, as much as he wanted to hold you and your pretty round belly in his arms, could never bring himself to see you.
And the truth behind it? He was terrified.
Having kids was the most terrifying thing he had ever done. Yes, even counting the torture. He was legitimately scared that they would end up like him, that he would break them like he had done to you. And he was scared to be around you. One wrong word, one trigger, and he could snap. It wasn't just your life on the line anymore; it was the baby's, too. So, he thought it was better if he minimized contact.
But you couldn't stand it. He had broken you down and built you up again from scratch just to rely on him. And running to Nikto, crying in his arms, was always a risk. But hey, your hormones definitely made you even more attached to him. At least he wouldn't have to worry about you trying to escape after this. You were finally relying on him the way he wanted you to.
The pregnancy was obviously long and difficult. Stress made carrying the baby incredibly painful at times and the chance of a miscarriage was high.
Babies in Nikto's family always come late and fat, but healthy. Which proved true once again with his.
Contrary to the pregnancy, the birth itself was surprisingly easy, as far births can be. Nikto was by your side the entire time, trying so desperately to separate your pained screams from the ones he had heard on the field. The voices were somehow yelling louder, telling him what a mistake this all was, that he had led his precious pet to their death. The only way he could stay by your side was if he zoned out completely, letting you hold onto him while he shut down, only coming back to life when it was over and he needed to cut the umbilical cord.
Nikto let out a sigh of relief when he saw that the disgusting, squirming thing beside you was a girl. He had been secretly hoping for a daughter. He remembered how awful he and his brothers had been growing up, and did not want you to have to raise a mini version of him. No, this was a mini version of you, so soft and sweet, grabbing out to the only father she would ever know.
The baby opened her eyes almost immediately. And they were just as blue as his. As Nikto grabbed her in one hand and placed her on your chest, all he could do was pray that was the only similarity the two of them shared.
He expected you to be fine and able to take care of the baby by the next day. That did not happen.
As much as he didn't trust himself around the kid, he was pretty much single-dadding it for the first couple weeks because you were still recovering from both the pain and the mental side of everything.
Post partum hit you like a truck, forcing Nikto to help take care of the baby more than he would like. He didn't want this innocent, pure little thing to be in his hands. He held her only as much as he had to, scowled whenever he had to change her diaper, and decided letting her run around in a diaper opposed to a onesie would be easier for everyone involved. Children were much more annoying than he thought they would be. If she was crying, he took her outside and let her keep going until she couldn't anymore. He could handle the screaming since he was used to the noise on the battlefield, but it didn't make it any less of a pain.
He didn't give the kid a name, either. Instead, he called her, "ŃонОк" to match you. His pet and his pup. It had a nice ring to it.
When you finally were able to get out of bed again, you couldn't even try to change the name, because she was already responding to it. It made you burst into tears to see how your she had already bonded to her father more than you. Well, that and the fact that your daughter was a living, breathing reminder of the hell you failed to escape. It hurt to see your baby like that, but you couldn't help it. When you looked at her, all you could see was him. You wanted so badly to love her, and you knew it wasn't her fault, but whenever you looked into her eyes you could only lose hope. You'd be stuck here forever, because even if you had the opportunity to escape, you wouldn't be able to leave her behind.
You hoped that the Stockholm syndrome would hurry up and set in because your daughter deserved at least one parent that could love her.
...
As life continued, Nikto kept trying to raise his child from afar. Holding her for only a moment, before deferring her to you. He even started wearing the mask around his now-turned toddler, worried he would scare her like he did the new KorTac recruits.
But the moment he came home from a mission, and his daughter ran out of your bedroom and straight to him, giggling and hugging his leg tight, he let himself soften a little.
That day, when you finally woke up from your nap and realized your daughter was missing, you had dashed down the halls only to find Nikto on the floor with her. They were playing some sort of game as he spoke softly in Russian. She babbled along with him, the nonsense syllables far more coherent than the ones you had tried to teach her in English.
She was always a little traitor. A daddy's girl despite everything. It made you feel insane to question Nikto anymore, when your daughter clearly loved him so much. And perhaps he finally loved something enough not to hurt them. A girl could dream, right?
But when it came to serious matters, Nikto did not spare any kindness. Especially because whenever his daughter acted out it was in similar ways to how he used to. Small, sociopathic tendencies you couldn't see, but he could. Stomping on bugs, destroying things, hitting you during a tantrum. It's not like children didn't occasionally do these things, but to paranoid bastards like him, everything was a sign that she would turn out like him. And he took it upon himself to deal with.
His punishments for his child were nowhere near as bad as yours were, but CPS would certainly not approve. Withholding the small affections he gave her, locking her in the dark with nothing until she calmed down, hurting her enough to force her to learn a lesson. People couldn't understand the pain they put others through unless they were put through that same pain. It was best his daughter learned this early
He tried as hard as he could to be a father. And for a while, he could fall into the domestic fantasy. But eventually, things always come to an end
And lastly, Iâd like to say that once Nikto eventually kills you, he would not kill his daughter. Instead, he'd take her to that nice old couple in town (fuck the foster system and fuck everyone he knew personally) and abandon her at the doorstep, not leaving a trace of himself behind.
You were his impulse control. And now that you were gone, he knew if he stayed with his child, she would end up just as dead as you were.
ââşâ⧠Simon "Ghost" Riley | ساŰŮ ŮŮ "شبŘ" عاŰŮŰ
There's a stark, painful limerence coiling tightly between his bones whenever he opens the apartment door and sees you lingering across the void. Your smile reminds him of bullet wounds scabbing over, all so tender yet agonizing to endure. He mumbles his hellos and everts his eyes lest he lose control. Lest he gives in and digs his fingers into your tender body, marring you with his lips and teeth, and tongue. Breaking open your bones as he ravishes the marrow, binding you to him carnally.
He's spitting blood into the bathroom sink, lungs burning from the RPG-7 jabbed into his chest this morning. He can see the bruises blooming across his ribs, swallowing his curses so they don't fall upon your innocent ears. "Ghost?" There's a gentle rap on the bathroom door, your voice feels like honey leaking over his heart. You push open the door, standing chest to chest. "What?" he grumbles, trying to steady his tremoring heart. "I got you this," you chirp, that ethereal smile glowing as you hand him a fluffy toy dog. Simon squeezes the toy, bringing it to his nose and inhaling your scent, high off your essence. There's a click before the war is lost. Simon dips his head, pushing his lips onto yours, his blood seeping past his lips down your throat, drowning you in his aether, claiming you in the rawest way he can imagine.
-`âĄÂ´- John "Soap" Mactavish | ؏ا٠"ؾابŮŮ" ٠اڊتاŮŰŘ´
"I figured you'd miss home so I bought you this" Soap will never understand your obsessions, this rooted topophilia. He'd be lying if he said he wasn't homesick, he'd also be lying if he said he'd really thought about anything other than you for far too long. The highland cow you present to him is fluffy and plump with a sweet smile sewn onto his muzzle. It reminds him of your darling smileâŚ
Then again everything reminds him of you.
Johnny can't help but run his fingers up your spine and your arms. Trailing fleeting chaste kisses to your cheeks and neck, even when your face morphs into worry. He needs to keep you close always in arm's reach; you belong to him in ways that transcend simply being "friends". You've started to notice the highland cow on his desk more often; he seems to lug it around everywhere. Even Ghost and Gaz have started to notice, pointing it out with knowing looks. âReminds me o' ma bonnie lass. Canât bear tae part wiâ it.â You're not sure if you were meant to hear that, meant to see that possessive spark shimmering in his soft blue eyes. He's been dropping more hints lately, practically begging you to come over, âThe wee coo misses ye somethinâ fierce. How âbout ye swing by sometime, eh? It sounds all so innocent, it could even pass as gregarious. If it wasn't for the vice grip he has around your hand, nails digging into your flesh.
It had started with that pond, that damned, perfect pond, a minute's walk from the base. Sergent Garric hadn't thought much of it at first, it's hard to focus on the atmosphere, the bustling of the outside when you're so desperate to get away from the inside. To flee from the overcrowded rooms and suffocating loom of war always drumming in his ear. He'd only noticed the ducks and the pond and the strange girl sitting beside it when, on one of his worst days, he'd tried to envision the whole park bombarded, strained to imagine it after a mushroom cloud. It's only then that he really notices you.
He hadn't meant to get so attached, but you'd made it nearly impossible not to. Something about the vision of your mangled corpse along the water's edge had reminded him of that one John Everett Millais painting he'd seen in the museum between deployments. Something about the frightful vision had him sitting next to you, trying to push out the right words to make you look his way. It's been months now, the pond, that perfect, wonderful pond, had glazed over, and yet he still finds you sitting by the water staring as if nothing ever really changed. You had slid him a knitted duck the other day, the same color as dandelions. And Gaz couldn't help the desperate hammering of his heart as he imagined, for the first time, what it'd be like to kiss you instead of standing over your cold body.
٠࣪âđŚšŮ ࣪â Keegan P Russ | ÚŠŰÚŻŘ§Ů ŮžŰ ŘąŘ§Řł
He's found he likes sitting on the floor with you, sprawled out on the mohair carpets. Elbows digging into his knees as he watches you thread a needle through polychromy fabrics. Keegan finds it morbidly hilarious how he can feel the same needle threading through his skin, pulling at his dermis, and stitching through his veins whenever you smile at him, whenever your soft fingers trace over his scarred skin. So gentle, so soft, little needles trying to puncture military-grade steel.
He pulls you onto his lap, fingers running up and down your hips. Strumming lovelorn melodies upon your ribs. He ignores the way you grimace, excuses the way you flinch away from his touch. "Sweetheart" he whispers, lips sucking tenderly along your neck, trying to hold you still as you reach behind you. "Here," you say voice utterly monotone, stripped of its usual joy and radiance. You thrust a freshly sewn shark plush into his face. Keegan simply brings his lips to the toy with a wicked smirk. "Do I scare you that much?" he asks, hurt and haughty. When you don't answer, he pulls you closer, hugging you so tightly he swears he hears your bones crack.
There's a sharp ache between his bones a treacherous agony every time you walk past him. The hall permeated with your sweet perfume. Alejandro can't help his lingering glance, the way his eyes stare at the places you've passed, at your ghost wavering in time. He'd do anything to kiss you, to hold you, to deprive the world of your existence, and selfishly harbor it only for himself.
There's a fox on his desk one morning, a tiny little doll with a bushy tail and beady eyes. "Why a fox muĂąeca?" he asks as you type away his latest mission briefing. "Oh, just cause you remind me of El Zorro." Alejandro laughs. He'd give anything to be the bandit that steals you away in the light of a full moon, the tarnished hero you cling to as the world burns. He leans down, lips brushing your temples in a chaste, fragile kiss. He can't help but look down at you, reveling in your beauty. Oh, how he wished he were a fox and you the lovely little rabbit trapped between his teeth. His perfect darling seĂąorita.
You remind him of Malibu Barbies lying halfheartedly along the golden sands. Ethereal and unreal, plastic shaped into perfection. But you're not Barbie not really, you refuse to emit that pink saccharine sweetness that most dolls do. Refuse to let him thread his fingers through your silky hair, pulling off his hand from your shoulder and pushing him away when he tries to kiss your cheek. Barbie would never he thinks, hollow, miserable laughter spilling from his lips as your glare tries to penetrate his skin and dig into his organs. You hate him, it's palpable enough, and yet he still harbors your hatred on this tongue like licorice, sweet and bitter, misplaced romance in every way.
The Eagle you hand him is a threat. Only you would know how to threaten someone with a gift, a little plushie of his favorite animal. A death threat wrapped in cotton and fleece. He sleeps with the pathetic thing to his chest, dreaming it was you, praying one day somehow someway you'd let him tuck you between his arms, high off your sweet aroma, nuzzling between your shoulder blades. "You're too Americana, you make me want to gag." Your voice hums in his head lyrical sermon. His grip grows tight around the little bird. He'll have you someday, he swears it.
ŕ¨ŕ§ Vladimir Makarov | ŮŮادŰŮ ŰŘą ٠اڊاعŮŮ
You're so naive, bright-eyed little dolly desperately clinging to his every word as if it were sacred commandments from above. Precious little fool, devoting yourself to a dangerous man such as he. You're usefulness and eerie desperation are so malleable, he has you eating out of his palm like a well-trained puppy. He can give you martyrdom at his hand, he's sure you wouldn't protest.
Vlad doesn't bother with celebrations, doesn't wholly keep track of dates outside his agenda. Maybe that's why he's so surprised when you present him with a wrapped box one snowy afternoon. A birthday gift you had said, while he rolled his gorgeous mismatched eyes. Inside is a plush toy of a black wolf, Makarove can't help but scuff. Leave it to you to pick out such a childish thing. "It matches your tattoo," you gush, enthusiasm leaking from every word. Big innocent eyes desperately searching his face for a lick of approval and gratitude. "You've more important things to do than play with toys, ПиНŃĐš" he scolds, watching as you wilt tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Makarove leans closer, brushing your hair from your face as he whispers in your ear. "Although there is something else you could give me for my birthday, ПаНонŃĐşĐ°Ń ĐşŃкОНка."
đŠâđŞ KĂśnig | ÚŠŮŮŰÚŻ
He follows you like a second shadow, masked goliath tailing you through the halls and the training fields. He finds it funny in a dry morbid kind of way, the same way dragons find little princesses so humorous before snatching them away. You certainly could pass for a princess, with your pretty face and sparkling doe eyes, your sweet smile that outshines the sun. Oh, how KÜnig could marvel at you for hours, memorizing every perfect detail about you.
"Here," you mutter one day, it's the first time you've ever talked to him. Stopping and turning to him in an empty hall, pushing a stuffed rabbit into his chest. KÜnig freezes a cold sweat erupting across his spine. You're looking at him with a stern, annoyed look in your eyes, he can't help but blush under his mask. You look so pretty just like the little bunny you're holding. "D-danke Lie-liebling" the words jab at his throat he can't spit them out correctly, not when you're looking at him, actually looking at him. You don't care what he does with the rabbit, hoping that by giving him something anything to remember you by, the giant may just leave you alone and stop stalking you through the base. It's a misplaced hope, you've only managed to amplify his longing, made him think you love him too.
ŕżâŽŕż Sebastian Krueger | سباستŰŮ ÚŠŘąŮÚŻŘą
He's taken to watching you through the day, following you wherever you go, just out of sight so you'd never catch an inkling. He leaves you handwritten notes describing how beautiful you look in your new dress, how pretty your new hairstyle is. He doodles little hearts and kisses all in a suspicious red ink. Leaves you voice messages enunciating how much he loves you, how he wishes he could carve out his heart and leave it between your ribs. The funny part? You have no idea your haunting admirer is really your dear teammate Sebastian Krueger.
He notices the eyebags one day as he bullies his way to you through the mess hall. "You look tired, schätzchen." You jolt awake, eyes scanning your surroundings in fear, when they finally land on his masked face, you relax. "Yeah, just...just haven't been sleeping well." Krueger has to bite his tongue to suppress his chuckle. He sees you pacing around your apartment at night, trying to find any clue as to who keeps breaking in, who is stalking you so acutely. You reach into your bag and hand him something fluffy. "Here I got you a present." He studies the plush cougar toy you've given him. Funny he thinks, Krueger, cougar, how did he not see you buying this?
"You knew they mean different things, right?" You can't see the eyebrow he has raised, but you giggle -such a heavenly sound to his ears- "Yeah but they sound the same," you lament, looking up at him with those pretty doe eyes. "I love it (y/n), danke." Oh, how he's going to treasure this little toy, it even smells like you, how thoughtful. Is this your way of saying you like him too? Have all his nights of stalking and all his letters penned with his own blood finally paid off?
.âż. Nikto | ŮŰÚŠŘŞŮ
There's a permanent lassitude tucked away inside him. There's not much left in the world that can make your heart skip a beat when you've seen every terror, felt every torture. No, Nikto had grown all too used to the permanent numbness, wearing it like a second skin. Until you showed up, Kortech had called you emotional support or something equally as degrading. Or maybe they hadn't meant anything by, maybe it's Nikto who refuses to hear you addressed as anything less than divinity, less than purity in its rawest form. The little ĐşŃкНа that had smiled at himâŚat them told him honeyed jokes and whispered girlhood secrets in his ear in hopes of earning a chuckle. Instead, Nikto had clawed out his heart and presented it to you with a desperate smile.
"I want you to have this " You're sitting on his cot, legs tucked under you, and he's trying not to blush at the heavenly feeling of your knees touching his. Your arms are outstretched, presenting him with a plush lamb tied pretty with a pink bow. It reminds Nikto of one of those pastoral portraits he'd see in the churches back home. It fits he thinks, he'd always thought of you as nothing less than holy. He cradles your gift with a tenderness he didn't know he had. "It looks a lot like you, ПиНŃĐš" he tries to compliment. "Really? I thought it looked a lot like you."
Sorry for any errors in the other languages, I used Google Translate for them all. đ đ
stalker!simon riley who breaks into your house, but it's clear he underestimated you because the next thing he knows, he's on the ground with a knife to his neck.
how was simon supposed to know a delicate thing such as yourself could make a grown fall to the ground and wield a knife while still looking so pretty and soft? not to mention, it's pitch black because the lights are out for the night.
and he'd be lying if he said he wasn't hard as fuck.
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You don't fully understand where his fascination with them comes from. Every time you see him he finds a moment to take your hand in his, inspecting your fresh manicure.
The nail salon has his card on file, leaving you free to experiment however you wish. Most days, you'll get the top notch set, sending him a picture as you leave the salon. If you're mad at him, you'll get something he'll especially love, not sending a photo until you receive at least a few apology texts.
You thought maybe he just enjoyed pampering you, knowing that with your crazy schedule he could ensure you would sit down and be forced to relax for an hour every week.
It's only once he's stepping out of the shower, towel wrapped around his waist, do you notice the bright red lines on his back.
"Sylus? Why haven't you healed those?" You ask, gently tracing one with the pad of your thumb.
He looks at you over his shoulder, smirking in that way that makes you feel like you've stepped into a trap.
"Heal them? Why would I, kitten? I like wearing your claws."
âSiâ you munch on a chocolate bar as you stare up at him with wide eyes,suddenly confused by his stare of why heâs looking at you like heâs about to jump on you.
âyouâre too fuckinâ adorable babyâ simon grumbles out loud,sitting down on the couch next to you,ânudging your legs towards his own lap,caressing your thighs.
âthat was suddenâ you murmur but shift towards his lap,straddling his large thighs,and poking his stomach,which simon grabbed your handâand you hesitated,maybe he didnât like being touched at all.
but then he brought it to his lips,pressing a gentle kiss on your palmâyour heart squeezed,then watched him moving forward up and up on your arm
you let out an involuntary giggle,his subtle tickling your skin,but i guess that did a number on himâbecause he launched over and flipped you over his shoulder.
âhey! what was that for?â
âi just need you in my bed.â
âItâs not even 6 pm-â
âBed.â
giggling all the way to the room,you snuggled up in his arms feeling the warmth of his skin against yours.
Š snoozbun Est.2025 please donât copy my work
Bubuâs notes: thank chu for readingâplease show love by liking and reblogging.á˘đŠ
thinking of simon riley who really lives up to his title as âghostâ
just imagine it like this. youâre just making some tea in the quiet of the evening, the stirring of your spoon in the mug the only sound besides the occasional car passing your flat. you turn around to find sugar because thereâs none in the jar and boom. there he isâabsolute tank of a man right behind you, sturdier than bricks. six foot four or somewhere round there of simon, and youâre hardly even able to see his eyes because of how dim the kitchen lights are.
which fact is more shockingâthe fact he came because he heard you making tea, or the fact you didnât hear him coming?
HAVE YOU EVER DONE AN MC WITH A FATASS CAT BEFORE?!??!! I think they're so cute (yes I know it can be unhealthy but stil!!) And I can just imagine tge boys being like "why is it fat?" And MC being like "HE'S NIT FAT HE'S FLUFFY!!!" I hope you enjoyed my 2 am shower thoughts đđđťdon't judge
Are you perhaps the same person that requested this under a post of mine? đ
CHONKY
âHeâs soâŚâ Rafayel trailed off as he curled up on his ladder.
âFluffy?â You smile holding your tabby up towards him. The ladder wobbled underneath him from how hard he jumped.
âSure.â His voice pitched higher than it should. As he watched the cat look at him with his eyes in different directions.
âUgh heâs such cutie. Tell him how cute you are.â You coo pushing him closer to Rafayel whoâs nearly out of his skin.
âYeah whatever you say just keep him near you!â He shouted trying to steady the wobbling ladder. Little did he know it was more his body wobbling than the ladder.
âHeâs like a plushieâŚâ Xavier said in astonishment. He held the cat up to his eye level.
âRight? I could just eat him up!â You squealed trying not to smother the poor thing.
âHeâs hefty too.â Xavier commented as he weighed him in his arms. You huff in irritation at his comment.
âHeâs just plush!â You argue back snatching him from Xavier and walking away. You mumbled how he just didnât understand him.
âI never said he wasnât cuteâŚâ Xavier mumbled to himself as he trailed behind you.
Zayne was caressing the cat while you both watched Chicago Med. You cooed at your cat as she snuggled into Zayne. He was so content with his night right now.
âYouâre so cute with all your fluff, my love.â You coo scratching under her chin. Zayne looked down at the cat and pressed his lips together.
âSheâs a bit overweight.â He said softly as the cat purred.
âNo sheâs not!â You said in offense. You pouted but Zayneâs expression didnât change.
âItâs unhealthy for herâŚâ He pouted. It was so slight you almost missed it.
âZayneâ!â You went to take her away but he moved her away from you. âHowever, I never said she wasnât cute.â He ended the conversation there not like your cat minded she loved her dad.
âYouâre a fat little thing.â Caleb joked holding your cat. The cat just purred into his arms.
The footsteps grew louder, sounding like a herd of elephants coming down the hall. Caleb turned towards the sound. You slid into the kitchen scrambling to get up. When you do your panting.
âSheâs not fat!â You scream before bending over your knees. He just blinks at you.
âShe definitely is but if you say sheâs notâŚâ Caleb trailed off in a teasing manner before you hit his arm causing him to cackle.
âYou are absolutely round.â Sylus tells your cat as he looks at him with narrowed eyes.
You go to speak but youâre interrupted by Sylus finishing his sentence. âPerfect.â His tone menacing.
âWhat ever you plan to do with him. End it now.â You said sternly your body stiff in suspicion.
âShe sure is fat.â Luke said as Kieran slapped his hand over his twins mouth.
You slowly turned around to face them as they run out the door with you hot on their heels. Sylus chuckled as he continued to pet the chunky cat.
Leaving you guys with something since Iâm busy this week đŤŠ
You're heavily pregnant when it hits you just how outrageously spoiled sylus' daughter is going to be
sylus x pregnant reader ⥠fluff ⥠1.3k words
Youâre 8 months pregnant with Sylusâ child, and it is no easy feat. But what did you expect? The man is huge. His towering figure and sharp features exude dominance and power, though his soul held nothing of the sort. At least not with you.Â
You're lying on the egregiously expensive leather couch, hand rested on the underside of your belly. You canât do much these days, not that youâre incapable; youâre just too tired. You swear this baby is sucking all the energy out of you.Â
Sylus has been away on some type of âbusiness tripâ for the last week. He has texted you at least 4 times a day, constantly checking on your comfort. He even orders the chef to make you specific foods you mention in passing from halfway across the world.Â
Luke and Kieran (surprisingly) arenât here. They had tagged along on the so-called business trip. You guess that whatever business Sylus was doing was more serious than he let on. He spared the details, not wanting to alarm you. These past months, the twins have been your shadows, ensuring your safety and comfort everywhere you went. Â
Sylus dreaded leaving you. You had become more clingy since getting pregnant; just his scent would bring you comfort. You had no shame about it either, embracing him in the doorway when he returned home, nuzzling his chest to breathe in his scent as deeply as humanly possible. Sylus loved it, petting your hair and saying, âI missed you too, sweetie.â You often found yourself burying your nose into his pillow while he was away.Â
Unfortunately, Sylus had to be away even more often now. With the impending birth of his daughter, he wanted to settle things in the N109 quickly. He needed to make sure his daughter would grow in a safe, stable environment. She would never question her dad's return home or worry if he was injured.Â
You sit up on the couch, rubbing your lower back. God, your back hurts. Just as you were about to grab your phone and text Sylus, you heard the door leading to the garage open. Sylus is finally home. You breathe out a sigh of relief. You slowly lift yourself from the plush couch, eager to greet your husband. You make it not even two steps when the twins come rushing into the living roomÂ
Luke and Kieran, clad in their black uniforms and crow masks, are carrying bags. Shopping bags. Lots of shopping bags. Easily six massive bags hooked onto each arm, with a few of Sylusâ men trailing behind them with even more. âBosslady!â Luke said excitedly, dropping an armful of bags onto the floor. âWe missed you!â Kieran nodded at his brotherâs words, âYeah, and Bossman missed you too. He wouldnât shut up about it.â
You nodded, staring at the mountain of shopping bags that was now invading your living room. âYeah⌠I missed you guys too,â you said, taking a step towards the bags. They're all from baby stores, luxury children's boutiques, maternity wear stores, you name it. âWhereâs Sylus?â you ask, wanting to speak to the true perpetrator.Â
As soon as you mention his name, in he walks, looking as effortlessly gorgeous as usual. For a split second, the idea of dragging him to your bed consumes your thoughts, but you swiftly suppress it. Then you notice his hands. He has more bags. He drops them the moment he sets his eyes on you.Â
He takes two long strides towards you. âSweetie,â he says, pulling you into his chest. âI missed you so, so much.â You pull back and look up into his eyes. His hands quickly come up to cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing your cheekbones. âWe missed you too,â you say, looking down at your swollen belly. He leans down to kiss you, chaste and gentle, but you do the unthinkable. You deny him.
You push against his chest and take a step back. He drops his hands to his side in shock. Did you really just deny him the otherworldly pleasure of kissing his wife? He canât remember the last time you did that, if ever. What could he have done wrong?
You stare directly into his wide, shocked eyes, crossing your arms. âSylus,â you say, long and drawn out, âplease enlighten me as to why there are, like, a hundred shopping bags in our living room.â You gesture to the room.Â
He chuckles and adjusts his watch. âI just thought I would get a few things for you and the baby, kitten,â he says nonchalantly, stepping toward you again and settling his arm around your waist, dropping his head towards your ear. âAs an apology for being away so long,â he whispers.
âSylus,â you grab at his arm, âwe do not need all this. We already have a fully stocked nursery.âÂ
âSo?â
âSo? So we donât need all this unnecessary stuff, Sylus!â
âDonât you want our baby to have the best?âÂ
âYes, but this is too much! Sheâs going to be spoiled!âÂ
âWhatâs wrong with that?â he asks, cocking his head to the side like a curious cat.Â
It hits you then. You had never really thought about it before. This baby was going to be spoiled, and her father saw absolutely nothing wrong with it. What did you expect from the man that had the entire N109 zone shaking in their boots?
Luke, Kieran, and the rest of Sylusâ men have slowly filed out of the room, leaving you and Sylus alone with the mountain of shopping bags.Â
You peel his arm off your body, grabbing the first tissue paper-filled shopping bag that you see. You hold it up towards Sylus and pull out the contents. âSee? Why does our baby need aâŚâ you actually take a good look at whatâs in your hand: âA Swarovski crystal-encrusted onesie! Really, Sylus?â You give him a deadpan look and drop the onesie back into the bag.Â
 âItâs cute, kitten. Do I need another reason?â He crosses his arms and shrugs his shoulders, as casual as ever.Â
You pick up another bag. âA-and this, a Louboutin baby shoe? She wonât even be able to walk.âÂ
âFashion doesnât always mean practicality, sweetie.âÂ
âA pure silk blanket? That's not even useful.âÂ
âIt matches our robes.â
âFour different types of breast pumps? These are like $400 each.âÂ
âI want to make sure you find whatâs best for you.â
âOkay, thatâs actually very sweet. Thank you, honey.â You sigh, defeated. Your husband practically worships the ground that you walk on. You canât even begin to imagine the lengths that he would go to for your children.
He slinks back over to you, placing one hand on your belly and the other around your back to pull you close. You succumb to his embrace, unable to resist your husband's affections any longer. You drop your head onto his chest, wrapping your arms around him. âOur daughter is going to be spoiled, isnât she?â you ask. âYes,â he answers, almost too quickly. âThereâs nothing I can do about it, is there?â he sighs into your hair. âNo, my love, no, there is not.âÂ
You look up at him, getting on your tippy toes, urging him to lean closer. He leans down, your lips inch closer to his, nearly touching. âJust try not to spoil her rotten. Okay, Sy?â His breath fans over your nose.
 âWith a mother like you?â he says, voice dripping with devotion. âShe could never be rotten.â You smile at him.
Finally, after a whole week of being deprived of him, you kiss your husband. It was long, and gentle, and perfect.
Of course your daughter is going to be spoiled. You suppose you are spoiled too. Â
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Description: Rafayel wants to mate, but first he has to get you in the mood...
Content/Warnings: Lemurian Rafayel x lemurian reader, established relationship, probably inaccurate depictions of lemurian biology and courting rituals, mating dances, sex in mermaid form (no protection), biting, dubcon elements
WC: 4.4k
Plop!
Your ears twitched at the quiet sound, a frown appearing between your brows as you dozed on your side.
Ears straining for a moment, you searched for a repeat of the annoying noise, but nothing came.
Your frown eased as you relaxed into the soft, warm sand beneath you once more.
Plop, Plop!
Your eyes snapped open, teeth grinding together, but you still didnât turn to the source of the sound, even when a quiet whisper accompanied it.
âBeloved.â
âIâm trying to rest, Rafayel,â you sounded, frustrated. The last rays of sunlight were disappearing over the horizon and you wanted to bathe in their glow a little longer.
A small sound escaped the back of his throat in response, a little desperate and a little cajoling. You heard movement behind you and felt him sit on the sand, close enough for him to lean over and nuzzle your head with his tenderly, persuasively, begging you,
Pay attention to meeeeee
Salty water drops dripped onto your skin from his hair and you sighed irritably, wiping them away and finally turning to face your eager lover, unsurprised by the array of small gifts dropped in front of you.
Small, pretty stones, an array of shells, some carefully cradling iridescent pearls, even some cute bright orange starfish clinging to seaweed.
You looked upon them, unimpressed. When your gaze lifted to Rafayelâs face, he sat up straighter, an earnest, hopeful expression gracing his features.
âNo,â you said simply, flipping over again to face away from him.
You couldnât see him, but you knew he was making that crestfallen expression that resembled a kicked puppy. Still, you sensed him stand up and plod away and thought you had finally shaken him off- for a short while, at least.
You settled once more.
Most of the people had left the beach, save for a few stragglers that were all packed up and calling their young children out the water. The sky shone a beautiful purplish-pink, the last dot of bright yellow disappearing as the first few stars began to glitter above. The seagulls were quiet, preparing to rest for the night in the safety of their flocks.
The soothing lull of waves lapping against the shore accompanied you to slumber, eyelashes fluttering against your cheekbones as you enjoyed the smell of the fresh sea breeze, completely at peace.
Plop!
Oh, for fuckâs sake.
You turned quickly and smacked Rafayelâs nose before hopping up and trudging into the waves, diving into them and disappearing into the water below.
âŚ
âHe is so annoying,â you communicated to a small red octopus, grumbling.
You were laying on your belly on the sandy seafloor, playing with a baby octopus who was having fun darting in and out of different coral, daring you to catch it.
âI know itâs almost ebb time, but I just wanted to have fun and relax today. We donât get to go on vacation often, you know?â But all day Rafayel had been cuddled up to you, clinging to your skin like a barnacle to a ship. Whenever he wasnât stuck to you, it was only because he was out in the reefs and tide pools searching for little courtship gifts to entice you into mating.
You were fed up. You werenât in the mood yet he still kept trying.
Your dark blue tail swished against the sand irritably, chin propped in one hand as you frowned. âOur ebb times have been synced for a long time now, so why is it only him who is acting so needy?â
You squished the little octopusâ head and it stretched out a tentacle from the yellow coral, wrapping around your finger.
You sighed and shook the annoyance from your mind, focusing on the creature.
âYou know, up there they have a hundred different delicious ways to cook you.â
The octopus froze before quickly darting back into a hole.
You chuckled. âItâs okay, come out, I wonât eat youâŚâ
An eye peeked through one of the tiny holes in the coral, suspicious.
You sobered your expression, trying not to laugh. âI swear to the god of tides. You wouldnât be a satisfying meal, in the first place.â
It tentatively emerged once more, slowly sticking to your palm and peering up at you.
âWhat should we name youâŚâ you murmured. âRaf and I already have a fish named Reddie. Hmm⌠should we name you âcalamariâ?â
Calamari blew bubbles at you unhappily, wrapping its thin tentacles around your wrist tightly and suctioning. It felt like a small bug landing on you.
You laughed at its expression. It was too cute. It almost reminded you of Rafayel when he was pouting.
âHahahahaha-â
Your laughter abruptly halted as you sensed him enter the water. The octopus jittered, clearly also sensing the shift in the water as the god of the sea transformed beneath the waves.
You turned away, muttering âthis horny fishâ under your breath.
It didnât take long for Rafayel to find you.
He swam through the reefs, gliding between coral branches and giant clams, finding you rested beside a yellow diploria on the seafloor. Your gazes met and you scowled up at him, delicate ear fins fluttering in warning. Sending signalled vibrations through the water. He could almost hear your voice.
Donât even try it.
Yeah, he was sure if he tried to get close to you the best he would receive was a scratch from your sharp claws.
He thought for a moment- as much as he could with how itchy his blood felt beneath his skin. His scales twitching felt unbearable, his head hot and heavy even submerged in the cool water.
An idea formed in his mind. It had been a while since he had done this for you- not since your first mating- but it was what his body was designed for, afterall. Why his tail was brighter and glossier than yours, a stunning mix of blue and silver created to attract his lifemate. His fins large and fanning his sides, the fluke of his tail expansive as it caressed the water.
You were turned away from him, but upon feeling strange waves emanating in pulses through the water, you turned back with a frown, unadmittedly curious as to what he was up to now.
Above the bright coral reefs, the pale moon casted its glow through the waterâs surface, shining upon the beautiful merman whose arms were arched above his head, smooth silvery scales shimmering down his body in ripples.
His lean body seemed to gleam as his long, sinewy tail gracefully moved in slow, rhythmic pulses, every scale all the way up to his ribcage and collarbones catching the moonâs light.
As he began his mating dance, even the little octopus wrapped around the tip of your webbed finger was blushing.
You shook it off, irritated. Quickly swimming past Rafayel, you blew a bubble at him and swished your tail in his face.
As if you were going to give in that easily.
He didnât move from his place even after being rejected. He knew you too well. Eventually, you wouldnât be able to help yourself and youâd return to look. You just had your pride.
It had been a while, but instinct guided him in the dance.
His body twisted through the water, arms gracefully accompanying each movement, each motion an attempt to convince your attention and put on a display for you. He knew, wherever you were hiding amongst the coral, you could feel the vibrations of him carrying through the water. He could imagine you shivering as each pulse glided over your sensitive scales, every movement a call to your instincts to return to him and tangle with him endlessly. Telling you,
Beloved, Iâm here. Accept me.
Come, let me hold you.
Come, dance with me.
Sure enough, he soon felt your eyes on him again, peering through branches of coral in the same way hordes of fish and sea creatures were, dozens of pairs of eyes locked on the ethereal merman.
Spurred by his mateâs attention, Rafayelâs side fins fluttered, creating eruptions of bubbles and small whirlpools around him. He swept through the water, strong tail swaying. He twirled as he arced upwards, back arching for rays of moonlight to kiss the pale expanse of his stomach.
You watched him carefully from your hiding place, searching for any small mistake in his courtship dance, but as usual, he was perfect. A true work of art in his every movement.
When his tail swished, your lower belly tightened. When his wrists twisted in an intricate movement above his head, fingerpads slowly touching, your heart jittered. Pride was slowly and unwittingly leaking from you.
Chin held high, he was every inch the god of the sea. Resplendent and majestic, he knew how beautiful he looked. How irresistible and alluring.
Every motion was smooth, designed perfectly to impress you. You felt the rhythm of the sea in his dance, how intense his love and desire was for you, as endless as the sky littered with stars above.
His scales rippled, tail undulating as powerful hips rolled. Little mating clicks came from his throat, punctuating the intentions of his movements.
A low, humming sound rumbled from your chest, involuntary and quiet, but carrying straight to Rafayel, alerting him to your position. His eyes immediately locked on you, hidden low between the coral and seagrass.
His pink lips tilted in a soft smile. A patient, serenely divine smile that hid the lava bubbling in his veins.
But his eyes⌠they couldnât hide it.
Long lashes lowering, they framed eyes glowing a bright purple-blue hue, irises snapping with intensity as his own rumbles echoed from his chest in response to you, urging you to come to him and let him take you.
Swallowing hard, a slight sound of distress left you. Without even touching you, his gestures were wrapping around your body and mind, immersing you in scalding memories of how it felt to become one with him. As a last-ditch effort, your head turned away, gills quivering.
But you were helpless. How could you face away when there was something so entrancing before you? Your eyes were soon drawn back to him as if an invisible hand was pulling your chin.
Watching you from below heavy lids, he immediately recognised when your expression shifted from disciplined to sultry and inviting. Haloed by the moon, he subtly moved forward, sharp eyes watching your every movement. How even that small action had your throat stuttering, chin dipping inadvertently in submission before your mind had completely warmed.
Your fins trembled as you whimpered, blood rushing to your fingertips and head. Your lower stomach knotted in response to his sounds, how low and animalistic they were. They shot straight through you to your most private parts.
Defeated, a slow leak of pheromones floated through the water from you to him, a clear and familiar signal to him that you were ready for mating.
The chemicals sunk through his skin and his fins fluttered even faster, heartbeat quickening, instincts excited. Enough of the back and forth. He quickly swam to you, immediately wrapping you in a tight hug.
Tone tender and husky for such a fierce grip, he whispered against your lips,
"BushiaÄen."
You groaned, hating how much you loved how warm he was as he cradled you to him, one strong arm wrapped tightly around your shoulders as the other slithered around your waist, head buried in your neck to smell you.
A long whining sound left his throat as your heady scent completely engulfed him, desperate, open-mouthed kisses placed to the column of your neck as the two of your twirled upwards, tails naturally entangling, his longer and thicker than your own.
The two of you embraced one another, not yet mating, but hugging and nuzzling- a new dance, meant for intimacy and foreplay rather than showing off. Your heads rubbed together, little sounds reverberating from both of you, responding to one another in a perfect duet. Your eyes shut as he kissed your forehead, ears and chin, licking and sucking the delicate flesh.
Any sea creatures looking upon this sight would have seen two halves of a whole- the sea god cradling his bride close, whispering words of soft, sensual encouragement to her. Words only meant to be shared between the two of them. There was no room for anything between them, bodies tightly entwined as he held her protectively, possessively.
The sounds erupting from your chest steadily grew louder and higher, distressed as if you couldnât stand another moment without being joined to him in the most intimate of ways.
Rubbing against him more, you signalled what you needed, that you were ready. His side fins stuck to your tail tighter, wrapping around you to protect you and keep you close. The sigh you released was dreamy, pleased with his affection. Resting to him, you let him carry your full weight. Your bodies curved up, his sturdier one wrapping around you completely to ensure you felt safe, hums of reassurance cascading from him as he stroked the small, firm scales on your back.
You didnât want to let go, but you both felt too exposed to any dangers lurking- not to mention you didnât want to be interrupted. It was a male lemurianâs role to find a suitable place for breeding, so Rafayel took your hand.
You easily followed, intrigued. Your own blood felt itchy now, want surging stronger whenever the two of you were separated by rows of tall coral and rock as you swam through pure blue waters, reuniting to nuzzle like two magnets unable to part.
A large, intricate orange sea fan separated the two of you, your eyes locking through it. The scales on the sides of your breasts shivered. His eyes were glowing blue, instincts completely taken over. Quickly swimming past the sea fan, he circled beneath you to nuzzle your belly.
He led you further out into the ocean, to cooler waters where coral couldnât grow. But you didnât feel cold. Even when you met a drop-off and he led you downward- far, far, down until the blue water darkened completely. With the sun asleep for the night, the water was almost black, but both of you could see and sense each other, right by each otherâs sides.
Flesh and blood hot, your scales were turning a darker, midnight blue, your own desire rising with it. You made a little noise, impatient and wanting his touch all over you again.
He responded instantly with reassurance, clicking his tongue at you, letting your hand go to wrap an arm around your waist.
Finally, he led you to a cave etched deep into the side of the underwater rock cliff, nudging you inside quickly. Flicking the tip of your tail against his chin, he was met with a flirtatious beckoning smile before you disappeared inside.
He followed, both of you swimming as deep as the cave went, sensing the snug rock walls surrounding you. If eggs were nurtured from your union, you would carry them until you found a place like this. Deep, dark, quiet, safe. You would lay them there, taking turns with Rafayel to watch them until the hatching.
In the depths of the ocean, all was quiet. So deep you could no longer hear the waves above.
It was perfect.
You made a noise of approval, happy with the place he had chosen, and he latched onto you from behind, large palms splayed to your belly as your tails wrapped around each other once more.
Tilting your head back, your lips met in a sweet kiss, just touching to express affection. It was only when his hands started stroking your sides, deepening the mood again, that you turned in his embrace to kiss him deeper, sliding your tongue between his lips to meet his own. Your saliva mixed, sharp teeth lightly scraping each otherâs lips.
He allowed you to kiss him as you liked, reciprocating easily and not fighting for a more dominant position, hoping it soothed you as his hand rubbed lower.
He found the place where your scales had softened as your arousal grew, the slit-like opening exposed.
You moaned softly, trembling as he rubbed the entrance. It was a different kind of wet- more slippery, allowing two of his fingers to immediately sink in.
The whimpers in the cave grew louder, swallowed in Rafayelâs mouth as your hands tangled in his soft hair. He prodded your entrance, slowly retracting and inserting his fingers, testing your wetness, how deep you would allow him.
You were warm and wet inside, your natural slick gooey and inviting. Soft, encouraging sounds left your throat, growing whinier when you felt his own sex rub against you. Hard and exposed from his slit, it was large and the same silver-blue as his tail, growing darker at the tip that was rubbing against your opening. You smelled him, too. Natural lubricant was leaking from the tip of his penis, sticky and musky with a hint of the same scent that emanated from the blood running beneath his skin.
It didnât help your impatience, only heightening your arousal until your entire body buzzed, slit squeezing tight around his fingers.
Cradling his head in your arms, you held him close, nibbling and gnawing on his shimmering purple ear fins. You wanted to beg him to hurry up, to press his chest to yours and fill you completely. But he didnât make you wait long, just as desperate as you. You had made him wait the whole day, after all, ignoring every one of his courtship offerings. It wasnât possible to tease or delay any longer. Now, he just wanted to bury himself in your warmth and thrust until his seed spilled inside you over and over. Until you smelled completely of him and him of you.
You lost the ability to speak as his tip pushed in, the first few inches unbearably thick as they stretched your entrance.
Whining, you pushed on his chest. It was always so much when you were in your lemurian forms. He was more elegantly built as a human, and the two of you had spent most of your time as humans recently, so you needed time to adjust again.
But it wasnât an adjustment he was willing to be patient for. A sound rippled through the water from deep in his chest. Somewhere between a growl and a hiss- sternly warning you to stay still, more animalistic and hostile than he was in human form- just as he bit into the shell of your ear and pushed inside you completely.
Lemurians had always been a race that relied on strength, intelligence, creativity and deep bonds regardless of gender, but when it came to mating, particularly around heat times, males were typically more aggressive and dominant, needing their partner latched to them without hesitation.
Your body quickly gave up any resistance, swallowing him whole, the fronts of your tails pressed tightly to each otherâs.
You both moaned at the feeling, burying into each otherâs necks. The connection felt wonderful. Overwhelming as it was, it also sated the bottomless, primal craving gripping your centre. He allowed you that small moment of reprieve, a mere whisper of a moment, before he began grinding against you.
Sturdy arms wrapped around your torso, enveloping you completely as Rafayel kissed the side of your face, biting your earlobe and jaw, stuttered moans escaping him as he rubbed inside you. Your arousal coated him completely, every crease and fold of your insides dragging along his length as he moved.
The feeling was unbearable for you. Incredibly sensitive, all you could do was hold him tight and lick long stripes across the gills on his neck, tangling the tip of your tail around him securely.
âIs it good? Tell me Iâm making you feel good. Youâre so wet inside, so perfect- you liked my dance, didnât you? Iâll dance for you whenever you desire, belovedâŚâ Â
You were surprised he could still communicate. He looked far gone, eyes dark and pupils dilated, his chest rumbling against yours. He was holding you so tightly it felt as though he wanted to merge you into him.
You twitched around him, nodding helplessly as you buried your head in his bicep, nuzzling the skin there.
It was good. So, so good. You couldnât stop licking his skin, every inch from his arms to his face. Your insides pulsed around him, the stretch now welcomed as your bodies continued to join.
Shockwaves of pleasure rippled through Rafayelâs body, making him more aggressive. His strokes became quicker, rougher. Clouds of water swirled around the two of you. Â
Everything was still outside the cave, so dark and quiet time seemed to stand still. But within, every inch of you was on fire. Tails entangled, the two of you refused to part. He whispered lemurian words into you, sweet words in rough tones, groaning gutturally when you scratched down his muscular back, nails digging into skin.
You were so pretty. So, so pretty. His female. He couldnât hold onto an ounce of sanity, not with you slick and dripping, surrounding him and entirely engulfed by him.
He was so deep, your tight sex welcoming his cock, eating him alive as the urge to claim you, to mark you, sent insistent aches through his gums. Then, everyone would know who you belonged to. Who satisfied you. Who you allowed into your body over and over again. The only male that could touch you, mate you and spill inside you.
So deep beneath the waves, there was no room for ridiculous human logic. That was an entirely different world that didnât exist in the cave. There was only the sounds of bodies coming together, doting and anguished all at once. The heady scent of male and female pheromones swirling together in an intoxicating concoction that spurred piercing, brutal thrusts.
Hissing, you clawed at his chest, upset at a particularly puncturing thrust. He met your dark, slitted eyes with his own unforgiveable pair, blue glowing in the caveâs blackness. Instead of easing on you, his arms tightened, squishing you to his chest.
There was no getting away. You werenât sure if you wanted to. The instincts pounding beneath your flesh had your tail squeezing his tighter, closer. Wild, agonising moans poured from your mouth as sharp teeth latched onto your shoulder and bit down hard.
Rafayel felt your entire body freeze up, rigid for one moment before you went completely limp for him to do as he pleased. Slurred moans flowed from you, head swimming with pleasure at his show of claiming. The stinging pain coursing through you swirling with desire, heightening the emotions, the attraction, the mind-numbing instinctual surges of bodies crashing together like waves upon the shore.
Ah, it was bliss. Your insides clung to him, sticking to him and refusing to let go. His spine felt like it had been stung, his entire body trembling and sensitive as his muscles tightened with the need for release.
You knew he was close when his movements grew even more frenzied. You pushed your hips forward to meet his quicker.
He cupped your neck, groaning âbelovedâ before sweeping your lips into a kiss that made your scales flutter. The tears that sprung in your eyes quickly floated away and merged with the swirling dark water surrounding the two of you.
The grinds of him inside you stuttered in their pace, lips breaking away at the overwhelming pleasure as he came. Spurts of hot seed poured deep inside you, gushing into your womb. His hips gave small, uncontrollable thrusts as you tightened around him, milking every drop of the thick liquid he gave you.
You moaned and held him to you tighter, every female instinct within you completely satisfied at the feeling of him filling you. You were sated- for now, at least.
But he wasnât.
You floated for a while together, letting the water carry the two bodies that were curled around each other, but it wasnât long before he was using his stronger body to manoeuvre you to the sandy cave floor, your insides still twitching and sensitive with every movement.
But he didnât seem to care about that. He always lost a bit of finesse around ebb time. As soon as you touched the floor, his hips were moving again, stroking deep, telling you everything you needed to know.
Weâre not done yet.
You made me wait so long⌠itâll also be a long time before weâre finished.
I want to stay down here with you forever. Just us. Do you like that?
I love you, I love you, I love you, I want to give you everything. Take it all. Take everything I give you.
Lemurians typically spent days mating around ebb time, little need for food or sustenance, the only thought piercing through pleasure-dazed, cloudy minds the constant urge to join with their mate and breed until the maleâs seed took.
For hours, the two of you stayed like that in the cave, the ocean the only witness to your love. You didnât part for the entire night, staying closely locked in intimacy, a mess of tails and limbs, heated kisses and powerful thrusts.
Neither of you were willing to part, even falling asleep with your tails tangled in the brief moments of rest he allowed. His tail would be securely wrapped around yours, his cock still buried deep, enjoying the feel of how velvety you felt inside with so much of his silky cum filling you.
He would wake you with little kisses and bites to your neck, silently telling you,
Itâs time to open your eyes, beloved⌠letâs make love again.
It was only when the sun awakened once more, and the first rays of golden light pierced the dark waters outside the cave, that you two slowly swam out. He guided you back towards the light, swimming straight up to where bright light broke through the surface of the ocean.
He stopped at the top of the drop-off, just before the reef area where sea creatures bustled.
You tilted your head curiously, smiling when he cupped your cheeks to press one last kiss to your lips, gently touching your foreheads together once more, reaffirming your bond sweetly after a night of frenzied passion.
The deep sound you loved rumbled from his chest, conveying everything he wanted you to know. You nuzzled into his neck in response, his own chin dipping to nuzzle you back affectionately.
If anyone was on the beach so early in the morning, they would have seen two long tails in the shallows, slowly retracting into two pairs of legs as frothy waves crashed upon them. Two people, still holding each other close.
I love your husband/dad version of the love and deepspace boys!
I was wondering if you could do like headcanons or something of them picking out outfits for the baby or babies?
Maybe add Caleb only if you want to or are comfortable with it, I don't see much with him and since he's a new love interest i wonder what it would be like for him?
Love your work!!!
Picking Out Baby Clothes With Them- The Love And DeepSpace Men
parings in order: Xavier x Reader, Zayne x Reader, Rafayel x Reader, Sylus x Reader, Caleb x Reader
genre/ tags: fluff fluff
a/n: hihi my lovely ! â¸(ď˝ĄË áľ Ë )â¸âĄ MWAH thank you so much my angel for reading my works !! i love writing them as dads or soon to be dads so much so this was a rlly cute headcanon to write (ŕˇËáľËŕˇ)⥠hopefully i did this justice pls lmk but if not ill try to add more later ( âĄĚ_âĄĚ)ᤠi hope you enjoy reading ! p.s i love ur banner (âŠËoËâŠ)âĄ
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Xavier:
Xavier was in complete awe the moment he stepped into the store with you. Everything looked so small and the thought of your future baby would eventually fit into all these tiny clothes hit him hard. He couldnât shake the feeling in his chest that his child was already growing so fast and he wanted to savor every moment of it.
Shopping for baby essentials was easy enough but shopping for clothes were a different story. Xavier stood beside you in the baby clothing aisle, looking at the tags with a confused expression. He was unsure if he should show you the 0-3 month size one or the 3-6 month one, so heâll just grab both sizes and explain to you later that your little one would grow into them eventually. Plus it would look cute to look back on and compare from how much they've grown.
But what really got Xavier were the onesies. He kinda blacked out and picked out so many without even realizing it. Each one made him imagine how adorable your baby would look in it, tiny with their squishy little cheeks as if they were a little plushie.
Zayne:
Zayne would start off with a basket in his hand as you both strolled through the store so you can keep your arms linked together, just in case you started feeling tired, even if you were still in your early stages of pregnancy. But heâll quickly swap it out with a cart after noticing how much energy and time you were putting into picking out baby clothes.
Youâd catch the softest smile on his face whenever he picked up the smallest items. Tiny socks that were meant for a three month old that could barely stretch over his thumb or the little beanies that shrunk when he compared them to his hands. The clothes were tinier than heâd ever imagined and he couldnât help but imagine how quickly your little one would soon arrive and would be growing into them soon.
Zayne would let you be in charge on picking out the ones that caught your eye whether it were bright colors or playful patterns, heâll give you the space to choose whatever style you liked best for the baby. Every now and then, heâll hold up a piece, showing you the ones he thought would be perfect for your future baby. His choices would always be thoughtful, carefully deciding the style and material that would keep them warm on chilly days or nights or light, breathable materials for warmer months.
Rafayel:
You two would spend HOURS in that store, completely immersed in picking out clothes for your little children that are due in a few more months. Each piece would vary on the color for the seasons. Every outfit and piece sparked a conversation, discussing why each piece would be cute on your babies and why they need it. It didn't take long to persuade him and it would immediately be in the cart
But before you knew it, wandering further into the store were toddler sized outfits and Rafayel was already imagining your babies growing up, they werenât even born yet.
Heâd get ahead of himself, picking out swimwear for your babies, picturing their first dip into the water with him and then later on, their first swim together. Heâd also start choosing adorable outfits that would match or compliment each other's outfits for the perfect family photos youâd take together in the future.
Sylus:
You both already did your fair share of online shopping together with him, filling up the online cart with baby clothes you liked and loved. Sylus would make sure to select the express delivery even though your baby wasnât due for a couple months, plus it's not like it'll hurt his card anyway. But if you ever felt like that wasnât enough and you wanted to see more in person, he won't hesitate to take you out to shop.
This would already be your third cart in the store while Luke and Kieran wrap up the other two carts that were filled with baby supplies and toys you both might need. Now, the current cart was almost overflowing with baby clothes you thought would be perfect for your little one in a few months.
Sylus would let you roam around the aisles, admiring how focused you were while he pushed the cart around. He'd also throw in a few suggestions of matching outfits with your baby. Some could be for an event or just some casual wear that you could match with them at home. He would also have to remind you that the adorable little pieces you showed him were already ordered online, a little smirk tugging on his lips as he watched you fall in awe with the clothes all over again.
Caleb:
Shopping with Caleb would be filled with excitement and nostalgia. Heâd pick out baby clothes that reminded him of what you wore when you were younger, he just wants his little baby to look just as cute as their mama. Heâd also gravitate towards anything with adorable apple designs, which also means getting cute little baby bibs for them when they're ready for feeding
The entire time you two are shopping, heâll frequently hold up a tiny outfit, his eyes lighting up as he explains to you how it reminded him of you when you were younger, no matter how embarrassing the story was, he'll manage to convince you to add it to the cart. Heâd imagine how adorable it would be if a mini version of you wore it. He'll also add in a toddler apron so they can cook beside him in the kitchen in the future
Heâs already planning ahead and imagining recreating those precious childhood photos of you and wanting to capture those same moments with your little one soon.
