#Unless there’s some other game that’s slipping my mind | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

hwaflms · 12 days

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wicked games! ★ [ l.jn ]

{💭} jeno : let’s play a game. you like games, right?

[☆] pairing. perv!jeno x f!reader, mentions of bf!chenle x gf!reader

[☆] genre. smut | dubcon + cheating au

[☆] wc. 4.1k

[☆] warnings. explicit content (mdni), heavy dubcon elements (don’t like it, don’t read.), infidelity, jeno is a perv, manhandling, voyeurism, dacryphilia, forced kissing, harddom!jeno, fingering, pussy slapping, dirty talk, degradation, oral (m. receiving), throat fucking, use of words like ‘slut’ and ‘whore’, slapping, lots of spit, hair pulling, forced submission, implied sex, implied breeding, i think that’s it but pls lmk if i forgot smth!

[☆] notes. i don’t condone any of this, if you don’t like it, just don’t read it! a little darker than my usual work, but happy (late) jeno day!! not super proofread but this was meant to be a drabble and i got a little carried away…but i’m also thinking of a part 2? idk ‼️ anyways pls don’t interact with my work unless ur 18+ thank u!!!

from the second your closed fist meets the door, you know this was a mistake.

this is not to say that you thought it was a fantastic idea before, spending over an hour just tossing and turning in bed in utter turmoil over the thoughts in your head. turning over to your left, you were greeted with the sight of your boyfriend chenle, sleeping soundlessly with slightly parted lips, arm wrapped around an extra pillow tightly. he wears a plain, white shirt along with a pair of checkered boxers, an outfit he slipped on after getting out of the shower and into bed.

you don't know where it went sour. you don't know when watching a show and cuddling you to sleep became him sleeping right after his shower with an arm wrapped around a pillow. you don’t know when the last time he touched you was. and you don’t remember when you started noticing jeno.

and you’ve noticed the looks, too. he’s not particularly shy about it either, so it’s some kinda of a miracle that chenle hasn’t seen him yet. when chenle first introduced you to his friends, you immediately liked every one of them except jeno. you couldn’t explain it at all, he hadn’t done anything outright bad but something about him just didn’t sit right with you. maybe it was the lingering glances, the way he shamelessly checked you out, the cleverly hidden but distinctly predatory look in his eyes when he surveyed you, even in front of other people.

jeno was chenle’s roommate, which meant you were around him a lot. you didn’t mind at all, initially, even seeking him out at home to strike up a conversation, or offer him a bit of something you had just baked for chenle. it was when you started becoming aware of the looks, of how his hand lingered on the small of your back when passing you by in the kitchen, of how his eyes scanned your legs when you wore shorts. you think the final straw was when you accidentally walked in on him watching some pretty rough porn in his room, which you only entered to return a pair of socks that got mixed up with yours and chenle’s laundry. in your defense, the door was ajar while he knew you were home, but what really got to you was the fact that he never even paused the video or tried to hide the tent in his pants when you walked in, just nonchalantly thanking you for giving his socks back. you didn’t miss the way his eyes roamed the expanse of your body for a couple seconds before you left the room awkwardly, making sure to shut the door.

at first, you were uncomfortable. you debated telling chenle in your head numerous times, but your lack of concrete evidence made you think twice. was it fair to try and turn chenle against one of his best friend over a simple feeling you got? maybe not, you thought. but that feeling never went away. jeno made sure that it was persistent, made you feel like you needed to constantly look over your shoulder, until that uncomfortable feeling kind of morphed into a defeated one. you realised that at this stage, jeno wasn’t going to ever do anything. he had his chances too, so you figured that if he was ever planning to cross a line, he would have done it by now.

so you accepted that he was nothing more than a pervert and there was nothing you could do about it. that was up until a week or two ago, before you found yourself looking at jeno in a different light for the first time. it was no secret that your relationship with chenle was souring, diminishing before your eyes yet neither of you ever brought it up. instead you both sank into your miserable routine of tolerating each other, choosing to coexist peacefully instead of talking it out like you would have initially.

maybe you started hating chenle. maybe it was the empty space between your bodies, or how cold your hands felt nowadays that filled your heart with such bitterness, or maybe it was the fact that your body was throbbing, just aching and begging to be touched, that made you think all these thoughts that would have never crossed your mind before. like the animosity you felt towards chenle. and the curiosity you felt about jeno.

forcing yourself to tear your eyes away from chenle’s sleeping figure, you find yourself in front of jeno’s door, hand raised and closed in a fist like you had just knocked. your heart is pounding throughout your body, in disbelief over what you were doing. it takes him maybe ten seconds to open the door but it feels like an eternity, an undeniable feeling of dread pooling in your stomach over a situation you put yourself in. his eyebrow is raised when he opens it, one hand on his door handle and the other resting against its frame, towering over you in a way that already makes you feel small.

“can i help you?”

can he? you don’t answer, mouth opening in an attempt to speak but no sound leaves it. he inclines his head as if to urge you to say something, a bored expression on his face. jeno is attractive. you can’t even deny that. he wears a black tank top that stretches over his wide chest, a pair of loose sweatpants paired with it. the muscles of the arm holding on to the doorframe bulge, a gulp going down your throat as you look at it and look away.

he releases an annoyed sigh to snap you out of your thoughts, hand coming down to grip your forearm, all but yanking you into his room. you don’t even have time to react, already shoved near his bed when he turns around, arms crossed as he stands in front of the door in a way that could block your exit. you should have known he wasn’t going to pass up a moment with you alone.

but still, you try and explain the situation away. “t-the wi-fi password…”, you explain with a nervous chuckle, feigning indifference as you remain near his bed, a good amount of distance between your bodies. “i need the um, wi-fi password.”

you don’t even have your phone. the realisation hits the both of you at the same time, your mouth falling open a little while he looks incredulous, a disbelieving smirk on his lips. “the wi-fi password. you didn’t already have it?”, he counters, taking a step towards you. “from all the times you been in this house?”

you take a step back along with him, a blush coating your cheeks at how stupid he’s making you feel. “there must be something wrong with my p-phone”, you hate the way you stutter, wincing as you poorly argued back.

“you couldn’t ask chenle?”

“he’s asleep…”. it’s weak, but you have to try.

he finds this amusing apparently, because he repeats your statement after you, and your body freezes when she shuts his door. “he’s asleep…”

all you can offer him is a quick nod, but he sees right through you.

“you didn’t even bring your phone, doll”, he snickers, mockery just dripping from his tone and leaves you feeling vulnerable. “come on, cut the shit, what did you really want?”

at the present moment, you want nothing more than to leave, but your body is unmoving. “i…”, you start but you almost run out of breath when he takes a couple more firm steps in your direction. “what?”, he’s mocking you, and you feel that in order to be a comfortable distance away from him, you need to be sitting on his bed– a decision you immediately regret.

he’s in front of you in an instance, but makes no move to touch you. you’re face-to-face with his crotch from your position on the bed, and you have to look away to the side, heart pumping in your ears. “we both know why you’re really here, y/n.”

it’s a statement, but he looks like he’s expecting an answer, one that you can’t give him. you do look up at him though, and the look that crosses over his face makes your blood run cold. it’s all too intense for you, and you look back down, but what you see makes you blanch, not knowing which direction to look now. how is he so hard?

it should disgust you, the sight of his hand reaching down to grip his thick cock right in front of your face, but it doesn’t. your heart is still pounding as fast as ever, but your eyes flick back to his when he practically moans your name, leaning away from him a little. “at least pretend you’re not enjoying this”, he practically spits and it’s so demeaning, him looking at you like you’re the dirty one. you start to shake your head and he mockingly mimics you, scoffing when your eyes turn pleading.

much to your surprise, he takes a step, albeit small, away from you, arms folding across his chest again. your first instinct is to get up and just make a run for it, but your body is in no mood to comply. maybe it’s the fear, but a part of you think it’s from that funny feeling in your stomach, one that used to make you recoil but appears to not work now. you also don’t fully believe that he’ll just let you walk out now. it seems like he recognises this, speaking up when your eyes dart from the door to his body.

“stand up.”

your eyes glance between his like they’re searching for something behind the crazed look. your body follows that demand however, nervously picking yourself up from your safe spot on the bed. he motions with his finger for you to come closer, but when you hesitate, his hand closes around your neck faster than you can react. you’re now directly in front of his face, close enough to see every mole, every eyelash. when he reaches his arms out to you, you’re quick to move away but he’s even quicker, grabbing ahold of your waist tightly anyway, holding you in place.

noticing the tears pricking your eyes, jeno lips curve into a fake pout, leaning down to kiss at the corners of your eyes. “i bet you look so pretty when you cry.”

of course this is what was always going to happen, of course. but you knew that. why else did you come here? the countless number of nights you lay awake next to chenle, just wishing he would touch you like he used to instead of falling asleep silently. that unnerving feeling jeno always used to give you, like he was just waiting patiently for his chance to strike. this was an ugly situation that you had gotten yourself into knowingly, and jeno looked like he was getting bored of giving you chances.

with the knowledge that he was finally alone with you away from prying eyes, he smashes his lips on to yours, not stopping even when you cry out weakly against his lips, caging you in with his body as you try and fail to push him away.

you do this because it hits you that you are actively cheating on your boyfriend, even though you didn’t exactly initiate it. with the situation looking as compromising as it does, your mind gets cloudy as you try to think of how you could appear completely faultless. jeno is relentless still, using every gasp and whimper as an opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, knowing he’s won when he finally feels your arms relax a little against his chest.

when he pinches the skin of your ass tightly between his fingers as a kind of warning, you kiss him back somewhat reluctantly, but no one asks you to slip your tongue over his. he groans into your mouth when he feels your fingers digging into the bare skin of his arm, the hand that wasn’t holding you in place coming up to roughly grope one of your breasts. this makes you cry out feebly into the kiss, arching a little into his touch against your will when he slips the hand under your (technically, chenle’s) shirt to continue his ministrations.

the thought of chenle makes your eyes snap open immediately, freeing yourself of the heated kiss now that your head wasn’t being held in place. this is wrong. it’s like you have now come to your senses, but the look of determination in jeno’s eyes tells you that you’ve come to that realisation much too late. “jeno, we- i can’t, chenle-”

it’s clear that he doesn’t appreciate you breaking the kiss, pinching your nipple harshly before removing his hand from under your shirt to instead grip your jaw tightly. “oh, now you wanna think about chenle?”, he seethes, forcing your face in front of his, tongue darting out of his mouth to lick at your bottom lip. “when you came in here this late at night, practically begging me to fuck you?”

he’s sick, he’s twisted, you think, because you were certainly not begging him to fuck you, but you can’t deny that you came here searching for some kind of trouble. and now you got it.

this feels like it’s some kind of dream, though nightmare would be more fitting, one of those paralysing dreams where it takes immense effort to control your body.

you shake your head ‘no’ and jeno tuts in faux sympathy, an action that you hate to admit causes some heat to pool in your stomach. “let’s play a game. you like games, right?”

you’re sure you don’t want to play whatever game he has in mind, but you understand that he’s specking rhetorically, your opinion on the matter has no place in this world. “if i put my hand in your panties, and they’re in perfect condition, you can leave and forget this even happened”, he quips like you’re ever going to be able to forget this, smiling at you with no light in his eyes. “but…”

you were expecting the ‘but’ yet it still gives you chills, standing frozen in place when he runs his hand up and down your front lightly.

“if i find that someone’s ruined her panties for me…”, he trails off, stopping his hand at the waistband of your shorts, smirking when he feels your body tense. the heat of your body is basically radiating off you, and you know there’s no stopping him now when he looks up at you with a knowing smile. “i think i know what i’m gonna find.”

the next thing you know, you’re crying out against his chest, his arms holding your slackening body up as his fingers slip in and out of you easily. you knew you had lost this battle from the moment you knocked on his door, and jeno basks in his victory when he feels you clench around his fingers, licking and biting his away around your neck. “no marks, jeno, please”, you plead with him, eyes widening in fear at the thought of chenle seeing the evidence of your pathetic behaviour. “shut up and take what i’m giving you”, is the clear answer you receive along with a sharp slap to your exposed ass, your pants and underwear long gone as jeno works his fingers in you.

he bunches your shirt up above your breasts, releasing a whistle when he sees that you aren’t wearing a bra. “you were just waiting for me, weren’t you, you fucking whore”, jeno growls, and you think he’s truly deluded himself into believing everything he says, and it’s starting to seep on to you. your body jolts when he slaps your bare cunt three times in a row, like he’s punishing you for making him do this. “coming here with no bra on, just so fucking tight and ready to take me.”

he’s talking to himself at this point, because none of the sounds coming out of your mouth are coherent. jeno’s hand is forceful and quick, lips attached to your nipple and drilling two fingers into you at an angle that has you dropping your head into the crook of his neck to muffle the sinful noises you’re releasing. he sucks harshly at your nipple, letting his teeth graze against the sensitive tip, and you’re in tears, the sensation proving to be too much.

he’s pulling his fingers out of you and forcing you to your knees in a flash, but you’re just happy to be relieved of the torture administered to you by his hands and mouth, that made you cry out into his shoulder out of pain and pleasure. your joy is short lived however, when your eyes shoot open at the sensation of something warm and hard tapping against your cheek. and there it is, jeno’s impossibly hard cock mere centimetres away from your lips. “just made for sucking cock”, he notes, slapping his leaking dick against your teary face in a degrading manner.

he’s smoothing a hand down your head of hair, the action so heavily contradictory to his otherwise rough manhandling. “you’re gonna take me so well, aren’t you, baby?”. you think this scares you even more, because you have no idea what to expect, but he proves to be himself when he grips a handful of hair in each hand, using them like handlebars. when you let out a surprised yelp at the acute ache that results from him pulling on your hair with force, he enters your mouth fully, pulling back out when you gag. his eyes marvel at the string of saliva connecting the tip of his dick to your lips, rubbing the tears that slip from your eyes around your face with his leaking cock. “my dirty fucking cockslut, i knew you’d be like this.”

you’ve never felt dirtier, yet you can’t explain why you’re wet enough to feel the cold breeze that enters from jeno’s open window against your pussy, making you clench around nothing. gagging around his shaft for the third time because of how deep he sinks his cock down your throat, you bring a hand up to wrap around his base so as to try and control the pace of his motions. “there we go”, he hisses at the feeling of your hand wrapped around him and allows you to pump him a couple times, slipping only the tip of his dick in and out past your lips.

you keep up this pace, swirling your tongue around the tip and jerking off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. though he lets you take charge for a short amount of time, he grows bored of your pace, opting to thrust his cock into your mouth, chuckling at your wide eyes. “i’m gonna fuck your mouth, and you’re gonna take it”, he chides, slapping your cheek once making you whine around his dick, tears mixing in with the spit and cum coating your face. “so, tell me baby, chenle doesn’t fuck you good enough?”

if he’s actually expecting an answer, you can’t give him one, mouth so full of cock that your jaw hurts, trying your best to breathe through your nose. feigning boredom, he slips out of your mouth with a sound of annoyance for a moment, and sighs in disbelief when you unknowingly chase after if with you mouth, leaning down to grip your cheeks and squeeze them together.

“i used to listen to you getting fucked by him at night. but i haven’t heard you moan in ages, pretty”, your cheeks are squished together and you feel stupid, jeno’s gaze piercing. “always knew i could make better use of you. isn’t that right?”

you sniffle, attempting to clear your throat and blink, vision blurred by tears. he thinks he’s funny when he uses his grip on your jaw to move your head up and down like you’re nodding, but your body feels so fucked out that your head keeps going when he lets go, a shocked kind of laugh escaping his lips. “fuck…you really are a slut. do you ever think about anything that isn’t cock?”

more tears leak from your watery eyes when his degrading words do nothing but send shivers straight to your core, mouth falling open when he presses his tip against your puffy lips again. he moans uncharacteristically at the feeling and sight of his cock in your mouth, fucking into your mouth and treating it like your pussy. your throat grows tired of swallowing around it but he looks drunk off the sensation, so you lay your tongue flat against the underside of his hard cock and let him rut against it.

he’s absolutely brutal and relentless with his tempo, but nothing shocks you nor makes your pussy throb as much than when he leans down and squishes your cheeks together again, letting spit dribble from his mouth and fall where his cock and your mouth meet. everything about the action is filthy, but you’re wetter than you’ve ever been before, hollowing your cheeks as his thrusts become more erratic.

you know jeno’s close when he starts muttering profanities under his breath, the hands gripping your hair controlling your movements and forcing your head to bob up and down on his cock. “dirty little bitch”, he starts off breathlessly, seeing the drool running off your chin bringing him so close to the edge. “sucking my cock while nothing but a wall separates your boyfriend from us.”

your knees hurt and his words sting, but he pulls out, quickly wrapping his hand around his cock and jerking it off right over your face. your mouth is still open and you’re sure you look insanely vulgar but it only encourages jeno, tapping his cock against your tongue repeatedly. “tell me”, he demands, spitting into his hand so he can spread the substance around your lips as you try and evade it. “tell me how much you love my cock.”

you’re repeating after him like a broken record, and broken you are, so fucked out and cock drunk that you need him to do your talking for you. “love your cock- need you-”, you’re babbling but he accepts it, groaning when he works his hand around himself while hovering over your mouth, finally thrusting it back between your lips. the way you readily go back to sucking him off makes his cock twitch, and within seconds, he’s spilling his seed down your throat.

as his dick softens, he slips it out of your mouth and for the umpteenth time, forces your lips open with his hand. he spits into your mouth, but you aren’t even surprised anymore, accepting it with hooded eyes. “swallow”, he orders you and you comply, sticking your tongue out to show him how well you’ve done. “that’s a good whore.”

you were maybe even about to reply when you both hear the unmistakeable sound of a toilet flushing, and your heart sinks– chenle is awake. you’re quick to attempt to scramble to your feet, but your legs have fallen asleep from being in that position for so long that they almost give out, not that it matters anyway; jeno has no intentions of letting you stand up. his hand is back in your hair again, making you hiss out of pain and doing a good job of holding you down, but you turn to look at him desperately, trying in vain to shake your head free. “please jeno- chenle can’t see, please-”

you’re a blubbering mess but jeno doesn’t care, simply wiping your tears from your face and cooing softly and before you know it, that unsettling feeling returns, your ears thudding with the sound of your heart. “chenle’s gonna see, baby”, he agrees in a sympathetic tone, thought nothing about him is soft or caring. “chenle’s gonna see his girlfriend getting stuffed full of his best friend’s cum, and he’s gonna see her enjoying it.”

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themissinghand · 3 months

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Solo Leveling: Tease

Requested by: @666veiniklaas

Summary: In which Jinwoo likes every part of you, and he hates to share what’s his.

Or, you finally take revenge on Jinwoo for teasing you a little too much.

Pairing: Sung Jinwoo x M! Reader

Note: For some reason I lost your request in my inbox, but luckily I already started working on it in my drafts.

Anyways, not a bother at all! The cat drawing was so cute! Love how you showed my dark eye circles so accurately XD

This inspired me to write a....sexier version of Jinwoo. Hope you enjoy it!

Warnings: Some sexual tension and sensual touching, suggestive themes! Nothing beyond that, unless your imagination takes you there-

★・・・・・・★

Jinwoo is an asshole, and he knows because his boyfriend tells him too many times.

“Hey (Y/N).” Jinwoo called out, before noticing you hunched over your laptop in his hoodie, that was clearly too big for you. He smirks before walking behind you and tapping you on the shoulder.

“What? I’m in the middle of a game right now!” He leans down and lets his wet hair touch your skin. He feels you flinch before finally turning your attention to him.

“Do you know where my boxers-”

“What the f-it’s in the drawer!” Like a cat, Jinwoo watches his boyfriend malfunction (checking him out) with red cheeks, before screeching and dashing out of their shared bedroom.

It’s adorable, seeing you throwing random items at him to cover himself up, or when you run away anytime you see him naked.

But he knows you like what you see. Maybe, you’re just too shy or prideful to admit it.

(Jinwoo knows it, after all, he remembers you giving ideas to his Shadow Soldiers when building sculptures of him in his Shadow Realm - he’ll never let you live that down)

You’re like a cat.

A cat thief that likes to steal his hoodies, and wear comfy clothes. Jinwoo didn’t mind it, after all, everytime he hugged you, he felt like he was hugging a big marshmallow cat.

Sometimes, Jinwoo would come by and scoop you up in princess carry, and like a cat, you would fight him and try to get out. But that never works, as Jinwoo was a S-Class hunter for God’s sake!

“Beru! Help me!” You cried for Beru, who sheepishly looked back and forth between Jinwoo and you. But could only disappear in Jinwoo’s shadow when His Liege gave him a “I dare you” look.

In the end, his kitty would give up and grumpily cuddle in his arms until Jinwoo decided to let him go.

It’s fun teasing you and watching you run away from him. It’s also a great way to get your attention.

For example, Jinwoo found a great way to wake you up.

“Jinwoo…? What time is it?” Jinwoo watches his little kitty do a little stretch in his arms, clearly not awake yet.

“It’s time to get up.” He pressed a kiss to your palms, before cheekily bringing your hand to his bare chest.

“Wha-” In the next second, you broke out of his hold and slammed your back to the wall.

“Like what you see?” Jinwoo leans on his arm, purposefully showing off his toned body, but by then you were already out of the room and screaming profanities at him.

“I swear to God Jinwoo! I will get back at you for this!”

Jinwoo laughed as he saw his marshmallow cat angrily stomp to the bathroom.

“Oh yea? I like to see you try!”

Jinwoo regrets challenging you.

It was like any other day in the Shadow Realm, Jinwoo was training with his Shadow Soldiers until he heard a call from Beru.

“My Liege! His Highness is-” Without another moment of hesitation, Jinwoo teleported back to his house and worriedly rushed to the bedroom where Beru was at.

“(Y/N)! Are you okay-” Jinwoo froze when he saw your figure. His oversized hoodie no longer to be seen.

“Oh hey Jinwoo.”

Your quiet seductive voice sent a wave through him and Jinwoo even let Beru quickly slip away despite being part of the whole farce. But Jinwoo couldn’t be angry at you, as he was too smitten with your appearance.

His shadows' excited clammer was ignored.

A slim fitted black top with fishnet sleeves and matching black tights. Your collarbone, flat stomach, and even hip bone was exposed, making him unconsciously gulp.

The fabric was almost transparent, as if teasing Jinwoo and letting his imagination to go wild.

You looked so good right now, and Jinwoo feels himself slowly losing control-

“I’m going out.”

“Where? Looking like that?” Jinwoo flinched when he felt that he sounded a little too aggressive, but he really can’t let anyone see you looking so good.

You had the audacity to look confused.

“Nightclub, Liu Zhigang invited me out.” A cheeky little smirk rose to your lips before playing with the collar on your neck.

“How do I look?”

In the next moment, you were swept off your feet and slammed onto the bed, but this time, you weren’t backing off.

“(Y/N), is this what you mean by getting back at me?”

“I don’t know what you mean-” Jinwoo dived for the side of your neck and felt you squirm.

“‘Cause it working. Your plan.” Inhaling deeply, Jinwoo feels dizzy, did you even put on cologne?

Even though he knows that this was all part of your plan to get back at him for teasing you so often, the fact that you mentioned another man’s name makes him mad.

What if you actually did it for someone else?

Just imagining you with Liu Zhigang and other men-

“Hey Jinwoo, calm down-”

“Do you know what you’re doing to me?”

Jinwoo pressed a couple of kisses to your neck, and then left a trail of marks down to your shoulders. He peaks up, seeing your face bright red, but looking directly at him.

Even more surprising, Jinwoo felt your fingers in his hair, before cupping his face and kissing him.

“I know.” You licked your lips, and tugged on your top, revealing more skin.

“So hurry up and take me, My Liege.”

That was all you had to say to make him lose control, and devour.

Let’s just say that the shadows smartly decided to not interfere and watch the premise far, far away from the bedroom.

Beru on the other hand was just happy that he wasn’t the one being peppered with kisses this time.

The next morning was a mess. Jinwoo went back to being an asshole, not because he wanted to tease you, but also because he didn’t mind being an asshole for you to dress up like that again.

Also, Jinwoo eventually figured out that it was not just Beru in this, but Bellion and Igris too. Apparently, it was their chance to show off their knowledge of their master’s preferences, and also give you some armour…though Jinwoo doubts you would wear it ever again.

Not if he had anything to say to that though.

#manhwa #solo leveling spoilers #solo leveling fic #solo leveling headcanons #solo leveling #sung jin woo x reader #sung jin woo #sung jin woo x male reader #x male reader #male reader #bellion #beru #shadow soldiers #sung jinwoo #sung jinwoo x reader

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onyxmilk · 5 months

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yooo! could u do Wallace wells x masc reader (he/him) headcanons where Wallace walks up to him at a party and they start talking and the readers nerdy and awkwardness charms Wallace and he absolutely falls head over heels? Thank you!! :D

notes; shout out to Wallace for not stealing my bf (yet) also just realized you wanted HEADCANONS not A FANFICTION!!! tw; Reader uses He/Him pronouns!, implied sex, wc; 1.2k

Another weekend, another party that Wallace managed to find himself invited to. Not like he complained that much, he quite enjoyed socializing and finding a weekend boyfriend before going on to the next fellow the following weekend. He just hadn't expected to find someone he didn't quite want to get rid of, someone who would probably slip through his fingers fast if he didn't act in time.

[YourName] was friends with a friend who was also friends with those friends who invited him as a plus one. He didn't get out much which is why when the idea of a plus one came to mind of [YourName]'s friend, they immediately tricked him into joining. At first the poor man had thought they were going to a movie store, then they turned into a neighborhood and [YourName] realized he had been tricked.

Like a dog who was tricked into the vet, [YourName] deflated in the back seat. "I don't want to!" he groaned, "You'll like it! Don't worry, man, you'll enjoy it." [YourName]'s friend mentioned. Before the two knew it, they parked and [YourName] was being dragged into the house with loud music, alcoholic drinks, and food.

After [YourName]'s friend showed him where the bathroom was, [YourName] went to ask a question but his friend was gone. With a sigh, [YourName] shuffled into different rooms before finding the kitchen. This is where he typically hung out since no one came in here unless they needed to refill their solo cup or wanted to dig for food. [YourName] poured himself a drink before sitting on the counter and looking down at his feet.

"You seem lonely." A voice spoke, making the man jump in his space "And jumpy." the voice chuckled. [YourName] looked to his left and smiled when he saw someone. "Just a little, I'm out of my comfort zone." [YourName] says, looking into his cup before sipping it. "Out of your comfort zone? How about we make it comfortable?" The mystery man questioned, "We don't even know each other's names." [YourName] chuckled.

The stranger just smiled "I'm Wallace, you're...?" Wallace says "I'm [YourName]." [YourName] replies. Then silence struck between them, "You know, hiding in the kitchen the entire time wont exactly get you out of your comfort zone." Wallace advised, [YourName] scoffed "I don't even want to be here," he chuckled making Wallace smile. Wallace sucked at his teeth before sighing "Well, I guess I'll keep you company." he sighed.

"You hardly know me." [YourName] reminds, "Let's change that." Wallace smirked. [YourName]'s face felt hot when he said that and he looked away just in case his cheeks reflected the way he felt. That reaction made Wallace feel proud of himself, either it be because Wallace had eyes on his next victim or some other reason.

[YourName] sighed before finishing his drink though and hopping off the counter to refill it and find something to snack on, "Well, I'm in college to become a game designer." [YourName] mentioned as he dug through the cabinet. Wallace nods his head respectively "Nice, nice," he replied showing he was listening to [YourName] speak.

It only took a few more sips of his drink, but [YourName] had relaxed and the edge was finally off. Wallace was starting to go crazy though, the kitchen becoming such a boring scenery. "We should change rooms." Wallace suggested, with hesitation- but wanting to keep conversation with him, [YourName] nodded his head.

So they headed to another room that wasn't too crowded. They took their seats and [YourName] gasped, going into a quick ramble about coding. The entire time Wallace listened, like.. actually listened to the rambling. Typically he just found his weekend buddy and would act like he's listening but [YourName] had charmed him in some way or another.

After a bit, Wallace had taken the lead of the conversation about some book he read the back of once. But then silence dawned on them once more and it was becoming more obvious that [YourName] was growing uncomfortable with the noise around them- but Wallace refused to revisit the kitchen and let [YourName] sulk in there for the rest of the night. So, with a smile, Wallace took [YourName]'s hand and led him up the steps into some unsuspecting bedroom.

[YourName] felt his face get hot once more, but was unsure if his face was actually blushing or not. "Just relax," Wallace suggested as he patted the bed as he passed by it to admire some decoration in the room. It was hard to relax when he had some dude might be totally hitting on him now and then.

Sometimes, [YourName] would open his mouth to speak but nothing would come out and even though he hoped Wallace hadn't noticed- he did. And Wallace found it adorable. Eventually he spun around and [YourName] straightened up and smiled awkwardly toward Wallace, without hesitation, Wallace made his way over and put his hands on his thighs and leaned close to his face.

"You're quite the looker, [YourName]" Wallace said softly, "Re...Really now?" [YourName] asked making Wallace chuckle before leaning in more brushing his lips over [YourName]'s. Before [YourName] could say anything along the lines of 'is this okay?', Wallace had leaned in fully. Now, neither one of them knew if it was the alcohol they had consumed- but there most definitely were sparks.

[YourName] had melted into the kiss, it was a little weird at first since he hadn't kissed anyone in quite sometime so their teeth did clash now and then. [YourName] wrapped his arms around Wallace's neck before he had leaned back against the bed. Before anything could get too heated there was a knock on the door and another man had entered "This isn't the upstairs bathroom." the stranger said groaning "Scott what the fuck, man?" Wallace asks.

"It's like you just know when shit happens!" Wallace complained, Scott shrugged. "You know each other?" [YourName] asked, tilting his head slightly, his arms still draped over Wallace's shoulders. "He's my homeless roommate." Wallace grumbled, his hands delicately sitting on [YourName]'s waist. Without questioning anything, [YourName] nodded his head, acting like he understood what 'homeless roommate' meant. "Just get out, Scott!" Wallace yelled.

Scott threw his hands up in defense before exiting the room, shutting the door behind him. The moment was ultimately ruined, so the two men fixed each other up. Wallace sat next to [YourName] before going to suggest something. "We could head back to.. my place, you know, before Scott gets there." Wallace said, with a little thinking [YourName] smiled and nodded.

After a walk, the two made it to Wallace's place and things picked up from where they left off. It was nice and sparks absolutely flew with each kiss, touch, and feeling. It was a nice night, even more so when Scott hadn't come home after the party- he must have found someone else to bother in that case.

While [YourName] rested beside Wallace, he laid on his side and gently admired his partner. Maybe, for once, Wallace didn't want to move on from [YourName]. Sure, he didn't exactly believe in sparks, but he will not deny there was something in the air tonight and he was in.. deep regard for [YourName]. To summarize it, he felt the sparks, just refused to acknowledge it.

Wallace gently leaned over and pressed a kiss to [YourName]'s forehead, making the man cuddle deeper into the pillow. Wallace smiled before heading to get some sleep himself.

#Wallace Wells x Reader #scott pilgrim takes off x reader #scott pilgrim x reader #anime x reader #x reader

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halcyone-of-the-sea · 8 months

Text

A NOOSE TO HANG ONTO (III)

NAVIGATION || RAVISHING ALLURE MASTERLIST || NEXT: CHAPTER IV

PAIRING: Nikto x F!Reader (Soulmate AU)

WORDCOUNT: 7.3k

WARNINGS: Angst, mentions of stalking & stalking behavior, talks of death, weapons, violence, suggestive thoughts/comments, toxic modeling standards, food issues, etc. (Series 18+)

*I do not give others permission to translate and/or re-publish my works on this or any other platform*

Sometimes you wonder if meeting your soulmate would even matter—it would never fix the void in your heart, you know. It would be foolish to think that it would.

But there is such a drug attached to being loved as you are, despite your flaws and failings, destined to be tied in a game of commitment. Yet the simple fact showed that, while soulmates were able to bring you color, that didn’t change people's nature.

Even among those tied pairs, divorce was rampant; assaults, and murders as well.

Soulmate Psychosis, it was called. When your mind broke from having it all figured out, or even when you knew it was falling apart.

It happened to your father and it happened to millions of other spouses too. When your entire life is already decided when you look at someone, it can be…a lot.

So, part of you was happy that you’d never know who yours was unless they told you themselves—you can hope and pray that they stay their tongue and give you a chance to fall for them naturally. Because it scared you, truly, becoming like all of the rest. A statistic.

Lord, don’t let yourself become a statistic.

Nikto silently walks at your heels as you push through the front doors of your penthouse, taking off your ball cap and stuffing it into your jacket pocket.

The man at the front desk calls to you, and you raise a hand in greeting, sliding a soft smile his way.

“Seraph!” Isaak has been working at this building for as long as you can remember—the man with grayish hair and dark eyes. A face that was sharp and a nose crooked; like a chocolate-chip cookie, dark splotches along his face led to the impression of freckles.

The man was slightly older than you, lanky, and always dressed luxuriously.

“Having a good day, Isaak? Has that girl come back and given you her number yet?” You slow your pace to the elevator, digging into your pocket and peeling out one of the keys from your lanyard for your floor. You nearly drop the thing before you snap and catch onto the metal quickly. Nikto lets off something like an annoyed growl behind you at the interruption from the man across the room.

He’s impatient, you hum and send him a little glance over your shoulder. Light eyes dig with a warning. You only chuckle and shake your head calmly. One would think that for a PMC he would have all the patience in the world.

“You know I keep trying to get her to go away,” Isaak smiles at you. “The only woman I’d accept a number from is you, my Little Angel.”

Where the flirtatious comments had gotten you into bed with the man before, now they just didn’t strike you as they had before. Not…anymore.

You clear your throat and blink away for a moment before you school your expression back to an easy malleability.

“Good try.” Your focus goes back to the keys, fingers jerkily sifting through them.

Isaak’s brows furrow at your form, perhaps a bit of offense making his face twist—dark eyes slip down your body; pupils dilating.

A black form steps slightly forward, a large shoulder blocking you from view in one firm movement. Like some wolf with its neck fur standing on end, Nikto’s head is lightly bent down; eyes so intense that they render Isaak frozen in a sense of internal instincts warring with one another.

Nikto doesn’t speak, doesn’t make a sound—only stares and doesn't blink, immobile as a stone.

The soft music of the lobby blurs to the sound of a heart pounding.

You don’t even notice, humming when you find the correctly marked key from its slate mass and moving forward to press the illuminated button of the elevator.

“Oh!” Your mind pulls itself back to the present and away from letters and fire. “Isaak, this is Nikto—he’ll be…” A pause, eyes narrowed in confusion. “Are you okay?”

The man looks like he’s about to piss himself.

Without another word, Isaak scurries into the backroom, the door hitting so hard closed behind him that you flinch slightly and blink in shock. Standing for a moment, you tilt your head slowly right before the elevator dings, signaling you can enter.

Nikto suddenly grabs the meat of your arm and moves you inside.

“Woah!” You call, huffing. “Careful!”

“Inside,” the PMC grumbles, eyes tight and beady.

Your feet stumble when he lets you go, having to steady yourself on the back railing so you don’t fall over and hit your face on the floor. A sharp look is leveled at Nikto as he drops his duffel bag to the ground and hooks his arms at the collar of his rig, grunting and shifting his legs to set himself.

Blinking rapidly, you sigh out a fast breath.

“You know,” you begin, slotting your key into the plaque that says your floor number, twisting, and then taking a step back. Eyes darting to your side, you ease out slyly. “I’m sure people would like you more if you had the ability to articulate what you’re feeling. I’m getting the sense that you carry your emotions around like you’re trying to choke someone out.”

Nikto glares ahead, a brick wall of nothing but a harsh breath.

You smile softly and chuckle.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll get you into shape in no time.” Pale eyes slowly slide to your face and Nikto’s dead gaze stays there—brows in such a straight line it’s like looking at a statue. “I always do.”

While being around your mom led you to a subdued state, you had no trouble easing back into your usual route of subtle flirting; it was natural to you, even after traumatic events. A cushion, if you will. It felt good to still be able to regulate yourself and have some level of control over your life.

The three bodies and the Stalker, that senseless shadow, still haunt the back of your eyelids but having a distraction in the light was helping. Something new to focus on.

“We need copy,” Nikto glares at you, ignoring your soft tone.

As the elevator rises incredibly high, you hum in question, smile flicking to a confused frown. He grits his teeth under his mask.

“The key, Whelp, да?” Your eyes spark.

“Oh, sure,” you shrug. “I don’t have one.”

Nikto’s shoulders move back, blinking at you quickly. “You…” he trails off into a snarl of Russian. A hand comes up from his side to harshly dig into the bridge of his hidden nose.

You have to restrain a wide smile, the muscles in your face twitching.

When the doors open, you’re led into the sight of your safe place—an entire world away from the one outside the half-closed blinds of an opposite wall of all windows.

“I’ll order you one,” you try to reassure Nikto, sending him a side glance as you let all of the tension leak out of you as you step inside. “No worries.”

The man follows, jaw tense, as he stoops down and swipes up his bag.

“How is it that you do not have a second key?” Nikto’s eyes dart around the living room, not showing the slight way he’s taken aback by the size of everything and the design choice.

It was certainly…unique.

High mass, there were knickknacks on nearly every surface—a far-off ceiling due to the open second level where the rooms must be. There were hanging beads from the stairs, and plants that grew large and verdant; Nitko blinked at paintings on nearly every surface of the visible wall. A hanging chandelier that emits light over the antique-looking furniture of wood and velvet.

Even a taxidermy deer head, with its antlers holding jewelry that glints rich and luxurious. Books and painted bits of the walls that were near sheer fabric draped as an accessory from the top of bookshelves.

“Sorry for the mess,” you utter, sincerely, “if I’d been told that you were going to be staying here, I would have gotten the spare room ready.”

The kitchen is simple and mixed in with the living room in the form of a large island piled with magazines and notebooks.

You sigh and look around, wrapping your arms around your waist as you glance around the space. Not a stranger to the confused looks you’d get from your style.

Aly described it as a fairy tale. A hut in the woods holding secrets and magic. So different than what AMA had you displayed as—a cold angel of white and sharp feathers.

A product of some great lust machine.

“Just wait until he sees the loft,” you murmur, thinking about all of the various fabrics and tailored clothes you’d had in the open space directly when you walk up the stairs. The Dress Form torso mannequins wearing dresses you’d made with pricked fingers and shaky nerves.

You hoped he hadn’t met his Soulmate, because you’re sure it’s a hideous mess of colors up there. The thought makes you pause, and you realize you haven’t asked that question to yourself yet.

Did Nikto see color?

“No need,” Nikto immediately returns to his stoic monotone at your concern over the state of things. “I make do. Step aside.”

Slipping off your shoes, you place them in the old claw foot parlor table you’d made into your entryway storage, glancing at the void as he walks around your creaky wooden floors with his heavy boots.

“Shoes,” you remind, voice light.

The beast halts, his back to you halfway onto your handmade Persian rugs. You watch his fingers twitch around his duffel bag straps, as you go to close your secondary door; hiding the gaping wound in the building as the elevator leaves. A soft click emanates just as the man grunts lowly and lets his bag slam to the floor.

In one movement, the Russian bends down and unlaces his boots in firm and quick motions, grabbing them and turning like a puppet on a string. He plants them next to yours on the parlor table and sends you a tight look with hard eyes.

Nikto’s accent flares in his quick comment. “You are strange, Girl.”

You hum and shift out of your jacket, folding it and placing it atop the shoes.

“Oh, so I’m strange because I don’t want you tracking dirt on my clean rugs? The people you live around must be slobs.”

“We do not live around others.”

You blink, staring into his eyes as your skin pulls lightly. “Then I’m sorry. That must be very lonely.”

Nikto’s muscles tense under his gear, great thighs hardening. He growls low after a moment of stiffly watching you. “I do not need pity, certainly not from you,” and then stalks off, leaving his bag in the foyer.

Lips slightly parted, you let him walk away and snoop, taking account of the rooms and the layout for his own needs. Sighing, you rub at the back of your head before letting your hand drop back down, pulling at the fabric of your turtle neck.

You couldn’t deny that you found Nikto physically attractive—the large stature and built frame made your neurons fire, how he loped along with his bulky gear. Sure, that was natural, and despite the attitude, you did feel secure around him. He had an extensive record for a reason, and your mother would only include the best in her decisions.

It also attested to the fact that you didn’t find his aggression at all fear-inducing if that made any sense at all. To everyone else, he would be the pinnacle of an axe murderer, but, for some reason, he didn’t feel like that to you. A bit loose, sure, but the knowledge that this man was entirely mission-driven sat well with you.

It confused you—why did you not entirely mind having him around?

I can live with this, you tell yourself, brushing off your sweatpants and telling yourself not to think of the bakery or about Sergi, Yefim, or Petya; Aleksandr.

But when all that’s moved away like a curtain in front of the window, the view still remains.

The Stalker.

You still couldn’t rationalize it. How could someone do that? Be so bold and brute-like? And it was all over you.

Never had you been overconfident in yourself—you knew you had the looks and the money, the ability to do what few people could, but that had never gotten into your head. It was common knowledge that every model had a shelf-life and yours would probably end sooner than later if this kept up.

Any damage to your flesh that left long-term scarring was an instant dismissal. No negative press for AMA, either.

In all of this, you were walking a very thin path of horror and reality, like a show at a circus. And you of all people know you can’t walk in a straight line.

The overwhelming feeling of being hunted was setting in and you were entirely in the woods with blood poured over your body; weighing down a dress of linen and calling the beasts to feast upon your flesh with a ravaging appetite.

Swallowing the bile in your throat, you quickly go to find where Nikto had slinked off to, suddenly very cold and not liking the silence. On the way, you flick at your record player, and the old rusty thing spits out Clair De Lune as the glass sun catchers shaped like stars glimmer from the loft’s beams.

“Nikto?” You call in question, looking around before you murmur to yourself. “Where did you get to?”

Carefully grabbing the railing to the stairs, you watch your feet as you slowly ascend, piano music in the background; fingers tight and hard as you slide it up one at a time. You only knock your foot once, two steps from the top, but quickly recover with only a huff and a tiny chuckle.

Nikto walks through the top seating area filled with your materials and fabric, glancing at every book and measuring device that you have; the half-finished pieces. You blink and watch, wondering what he’s thinking as he clicks his tongue before walking to the first door and pushing it open. Your eyes slightly widen at that.

“Well, you sure do like making yourself at home,” your voice calls to the dark figure, and you shake your head. You begin following as if he is showing you around your place and not the other way around.

“I am doing my job.” Nikto’s voice spits out from the opening as you shuffle in. He glances around the small guest bedroom quickly. “Your home is cluttered.” The Russian mutters. “Messy.”

“I call it controlled chaos.” You ease, hands slipping into your pockets beside your phone and wallet. “You’ll find I’m fond of shiny things.”

“We can tell.” Head tilting, you restrain yourself from asking why he keeps referring to himself in the first person like that.

“You’re free to take this room if you want.” There are three doors that make up the separate walls—the one you’d both just walked through, one to the adjoining library and joint bathroom, and the other to your master bedroom with a respective master bath.

All connected to one another like a train car.

Nikto grunts and slips his eyes to the bits of personalization you’d left, though not as much as the rest of the penthouse. The bed was a Full size, there was a desk with bits of lush greenery coming off from a planter, and storage for clothes in the form of a large wardrobe you’d found in an antique store.

Classy, you thought, however, your standards for decoration weren’t the pinnacle of design. A set of Russian nesting dolls from your mother was put onto shelves, and in one of the corners, a hanging oil lamp sat above a nightstand.

Gray plush duvet and a fluffy rug you were told was purple when Alyona stayed over, with large pillows that looked like bear fur.

“Again,” you send a glance to the blank stare that Nikto keeps on you. “I didn’t know you were staying over.”

“It is… sufficient.” Gruff and final, though with an air of annoyed disgust, the Russian goes into the library second to last and then heads into your room with his broad back expanding; leaving a trail of authority in his wake.

Under your breath, you quietly mock him before rolling your eyes and following. For all this, you ended up being correct. Nikto was a good distraction.

The first thing that he notices is the stuffed animals.

They take up most of the window nook, some incredibly large and fluffy while others are small and could be crushed in his palm, even sitting atop one another if the space allowed. Nikto blinks at the sight of a very large bear plushie with a small bird on the head—little felt feet sticking out in front of it.

You clear your throat, the hot embarrassment flooding your face as your smile turns sheepish.

“Just…uhm…it’s just a little bit of an addiction.” Like the rest of the house, that fairy tale feeling emanates here as well—fancy curtain holders, old tea cups holding palm-sized pewter statues, paintings, and stained-glass lamps from the nineteen hundreds.

Pale eyes tilt their gaze down to you, silent as always.

“But at least it’s not drugs!” You push out quickly, awkwardly chuckling and shrugging your shoulders.

Your feet shift from under you, the large room that you call your own not something you planned on having to describe today. There was something incredibly intimate about letting someone into your house—someone you didn’t know especially.

Nikto puffs a bit of air in something akin to a scoff, turning his head away from you but not after a slight quirk of his brow.

“Are you sure you are not on drugs?” You snap up to stare at him, falling silent for a moment as he turns and leaves.

Gaping, you stutter, slightly amused, “W-was that a joke, Nikto?” He doesn’t answer and a slow smile grows on your lips. “Hey! C’mon did you just make a joke? Awe,” you coo, “I really am good at this!”

“Stop talking.” Nikto snarls, glaring as he goes down to the ground level. “You are making my ears hurt.”

You hurry to the stairs, following after with a steady mood, chuckling.

“If you’re going to be my glorified roommate, I think talking is part of the—” A sharp gasp rips from you as your leg hits on the banister, your foot locked through the metal as you yelp loudly at the sudden pain. In a quick tilt your vision slides, a swift sensation of gravity taking over as your body takes you tumbling backwards.

You tense mid-air, mind already made up about the incoming pain of your head knocking off the hard material, your skull rattling and splitting open; blood and brain matter spilling out to coat the—

Arms snap around your waist, legs still on the top half of the stairs and back hitting a large chest as you grunt in surprise; eyes blinking wildly.

Heart hammering, your head quickly looks up only to find the piercing eyes of Nikto burning down into you. Your nose brushes his face mask, the harsh fabric of the lover half pressing into yours.

You both stay there for a moment, Nikto’s blazing gaze unphased, it seemed, by the close contact. Inside of your gut, your stomach flips, and a tightness flares in your lungs.

Upon the air, your voice stutters out, tiny, “M-my bad.” You accent it with a helpless chuckle.

Nikto’s breath brushes over your forehead, and with a quick jerk of his arms you’re set back up on top of the stares. Even here, you meet the man’s height perfectly—him a few steps below you yet still a giant.

“This will be a problem, yes?” Nikto barks out. You steady yourself on the railing and take a deep breath. “You. You are…” His eyes twitch as if trying to find the correct word in English. He grunts to himself, fingers twitching.

You tilt your head, still calming down. Your throat is tight at the heat that still emanates from where Nikto’s hands had wrapped around you.

“...Shaky?”

“Hm,” Nikto doesn’t seem like that word fits best, but he nods once firmly, folding his arms over his chest and never once releasing you from his stare. Studying you as a monster does a maiden. “Да.”

You jerkily shrug, rubbing at your neck with one hand.

“Well, I guess brain damage will do that to you,” your lips tilt in an amiable smile—trying to play off what you say as you continue. Nikto’s body goes still, yet his attention never leaves. His eyes narrow. “I should have told you when we met, but you were, eh,” you chuckle, looking away for a moment. “Pretty quick with wanting to leave.”

A strained silence falls; an unknown emotion in the air.

“I—” Your voice is cut off by your phone vibrating from inside of your pocket, and with your hand snapping to that general area, you blink in surprise. “Oh.”

Fishing it out with awkward fingers, you find the illuminated screen and a text from Alyona calling up to you.

‘Video call w AMA & managers. 5 min. Be ready!’

“Shit,” you mutter, immediately going into your professional headspace.

But before you can rush off to grab your computer and slap makeup on your face, Nikto’s hand yanks your phone from your grasp. Blinking at your empty palm, your face darts up with a swift offense growing.

“Nikto!”

“Quiet.” The man taps into your contacts and you watch helplessly as he begins slashing in his own number with his digits firmly pressing in hard intervals to the keypad.

Huffing, you shake your head and leave him there to do what he needs to do, not overprotective of a device and more concerned with the time constraint that was leveled like a noose around your neck.

You had to look somewhat good for the call, after all, they could be waiting to tell you you’re fired.

They wouldn’t do that with Alyona there, you reason as you narrowly dodge running onto a side table before you enter your room again, though this time from the main door. Not the managers either.

Your lips pull straight.

But if the CEO was on call, then you’d have to worry. He had no problem being ruthless about policy and public image, always so pretentious with his power over all of the men and women employed at Allurement.

But then again, he had always seemed to take an interest in you, anyway.

You slip out of your turtleneck and pull on a silk top that seems either white or a very very pale color—either way, they always put you in something near to white, so it didn’t matter. Since it was a video call, there was no need to show your bottom half; the sweatpants stayed.

Makeup was the hard part.

With your nerve spasms always showing up at inopportune times, it took a long time if someone else wasn’t doing it for you. You had ways to combat it, sure, but none you could get ready in five minutes.

Three, you tell yourself.

An idea hits your head like a rock.

“Nikto!” You call, rushing to your vanity and pushing aside a plush raccoon to snag your mascara. There wasn’t time for anything else. “I have a favor!”

“No,” the man materializes in the opening of your door, the backdrop of your fabric mess in the loft behind him; the clashing of shades momentarily confuses you, blinking quickly, but you recover with a huff and a plea.

“I need you to put my mascara on—my hands are too unpredictable right now.” He’s growling in the way you’re already accustomed to. This must be one hell of a day for him. “Your job is to protect me right? I need you to protect me from public humiliation.”

“Then humiliate yourself.” Nikto’s narrowed eyes lower even farther, face turned sharply to you as you walk over and hold out the stick. “This is not my job.”

You dig hard into his eyes, serious if not a bit willing. “I’d owe you.” Your tone is hard but true.

The Russian bear’s shoulders roll slightly, getting higher and more irritated. He grunts at you. After a long and heartstopping moment, he grabs onto your pocket and slips your phone back inside, jostling your body into his as you make a noise in surprise.

In that same movement, the mascara stick is yanked from your hand and fingers grapple onto your chin.

Your eyes go wide; body instantaneously tensing, as the unyielding grip moves your chin to the side and one hand unscrews the mascara with a slight pop of the seal.

“You are dependent,” Nikto’s digits are tight, but you don’t blink or pull away as the stick spreads pigment. “I do not like it, Girl. Like child running with a knife.”

“Aren’t you such a ray of sunshine?” You grumble but stay deathly still. Nikto’s body is tight against yours, leaning over you.

The guy certainly didn’t mind getting handsy if he needed to. Thinking like that makes your feet shuffle tinily under you, a heat emanating from your cheeks and your thighs momentarily becoming stiff.

His body warmth bleeds through his bulk; the grating press of his chest plate to your upper body.

“Stop breathing,” Nikto hisses and your cheek is moved to the side, knee knocking into his leg.

You feel and see the stick descend and move your lashes delicately, quite adverse to the attitude you’re getting. The Russian is attentive and set on getting his task done, even if he despises it.

“What kind of a request is that?!”

“Hush!” He barks and you both try to glare at each other as the last of the mascara is bushed on. “Get out.”

You pull back and frown up at him.

“I’m sorry you think that your attitude is appropriate, Nikto.” With your nose in the air, your hands grapple for your laptop on the way out of your room and sit at the desk out in your loft. Tossing a stack of fabric to the floor and brushing down the surface.

Behind you, there’s a plain-colored sheet hung to the wall for conferences—and you make sure it’s in place as you plop down to your seat.

Nikto’s angry eyes bore into you from the doorway, which he slowly leans against and crosses his arms heavily.

He mutters under his breath in fast Russian, shaking his head as you unlock your laptop and log in, easily clicking where you need to go and pulling up your video call with twenty seconds to spare.

Alyona’s face appears first, looking to the side, and you send a soft smile before you unmute yourself.

“Feeling better?” The woman perks up, eyes coming to you. She beams.

“Солнышко!” You laugh, tilting your head. “No, no, forget about me, how are you?” Aly gives you her full attention. “I need to come over and visit, yes? We should have a girl’s night again. Just us.”

“I’m…alright,” you simply say, fast to reassure her of her worries. There was no need to burden the model with your fears. Not when she’s still living with her own. “And that might be a bit difficult on the ‘just us’ part, unfortunately.”

She sighs but is serious in her concern.

“New bodyguard, Seraph?” Nikto listens to everything from across the loft, and you glance up at him before you open your mouth to speak in the affirmative.

“Live-in.” Alyona thins her lips, but, surprisingly, doesn’t seem off-put.

“Perhaps that is good, hm? If it’s to keep you safe, I would be willing to deal with it.” Before you can admit that it’s not the worst idea in the world, though draining, three others pop into the call.

Yours and Alyona’s managers, and, of course, the CEO of AMA.

You have to hide your curse before it sneaks out of your mouth. Everyone greets one another, and you send polite smiles and hellos in return. Corporate professionalism a virus that sweeps your features into a mask of compliance and brain-dead agreements.

Kliment Fedorov, CEO of Allurement Modeling Agency, shows his large and round face in the very center of the screen; with tiny eyes like a fly and a bald head. He’s in his office.

The man calls your name and smiles wide, pure white teeth leaning more towards fake looking than just the results of frequent brushing.

“It is good to see both of my best girls getting along. No lasting marks, I hope?” You and Aly dart look.

“None, Sir.” You both answer, still smiling and falling in line. They only speak in English for your comfort—in your manager’s box, you see his translator lean into his ear and relay the words being let out.

“Good, good! This is great news. Seraph,” you perk up, Nikto from the back shuffling while looking around his surroundings. He picks at a piece of reflective fabric on a side table with his brutish fingers, twisting it before huffing and tossing it away. He snoops as if put off by the high-mass areas, used to order and cleanliness.

Not that it wasn’t clean, but outwardly it gave off a certain impression of clutter.

“How soon can you be back? We have had even more propositions offered because of this event.” Your lungs stutter. “Mrs. Solovyova and yourself are very profitable for the company at the current time; this only made your popularity better!”

Your manager, Kostya, spits off into his native tongue with its harsh edges. Nikto’s head shifts back your way but says nothing.

Profitable? Wanted? You can’t say you’re overly thrilled at the comments. Just like you can’t say you want to get back to work when the Stalker knows exactly where you’ll be.

Who could say when he would strike again? A day? A week? Going back to AMA would make the target on your back as large as a damn elephant.

Kliment waves a hand and your manager falls silent at the sheen of anger in his fly-eyes. He continues.

“Of course, AMA had to take precautions, Ladies.” Alyona shifts in her box on the screen, glancing to the side. “We were very close to having to terminate your deal with us. Such events are…ah, dangerous for our image.”

It’s like a punch to the gut you knew was coming. The only reason you were still employed was because of companies trying to profit off of the girls who beat the odds and survived a direct attack on one of their own.

You could already see the headlines—had seen the headlines.

Aly and you know the response you need to give.

“Thank you, Sir.” Smiles are stiff, but a sheet of pleasure washes Kliment’s face.

“Well, of course, my girls! I would never get rid of such beauties, no, no. This agency is your home—I love my women like my own.” His eyes stay on you, and your body shivers even miles away. “But lovely Seraph, again, when can we have you back? Everyone has been asking, yes? Photographers lining up! But of course, you’ll keep your assigned one.”

Everyone? You swallow down saliva thinking about crowds and the peering eyes.

“Uhm,” Nikto openly stares, and you glance up at him. He offers no help above a tilt of his head; arms over his chest. “W-when would you need me back, Sir. My calendar is always free for you.”

“Good! Tomorrow, then. Mrs. Solovyova?”

“...That works for me, Sir.”

“Perfect!” You sigh and close your eyes for a moment before the CEO jumps into business—your managers taking notes in preparation for scheduling and locations. “I will send the details over to your departments and good wishes to the companies, I’ll expect to hear of you both being in tomorrow.”

He leaves the call, but not without a smirk forming on his face.

The managers talk for a few moments, getting almost everything in order before they too leave.

Aly and you release a deep breath, both sagging. The other woman is first to speak.

“Bastard.” Nikto scoffs from across the room. You peek before you rub your head and nod in turn.

“A creep, one hundred percent.” Alyona sighs, and her palm acts as a headrest as she lays her chin on it. She licks her lips, face going hard.

“You don’t think that he…” Your brows tilt in confusion before you catch what she’s trying to say.

“No, Aly, it can’t be him.” She frowns. “T-that would be,” you force a laugh, hands beginning to spasm. Swiftly you move them under the desk. “That would be insane.”

Nikto takes his phone out of his pocket and taps something into the screen, feet spacing themselves in a display of a perfect soldier.

“I wouldn’t be surprised if it was, Солнышко.” You turn away for a moment. “Anyone could be at this point.”

“My mother said there was a break-in at the bakery before the explosion. Someone planted that bomb because they guessed on an off chance that we would go out.” You breathe sharply. “Do you know how insane that is? Anyone could have,” swiftly stopping your sentence, you shake your head to clear it. “It’s…the person who’s doing this can’t blend into normal life. It has to be obvious, and everyone’s missing it.”

“Easy, Little Seraph,” Alyona eases, showing you a hand to get you to come back to her. “We will figure this out, yes?”

A hand rubs along your face and you whisper out, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you and the new man tomorrow—you know you can call me with anything. Nikifor and I worry about you. Yekaterinburg is a dangerous place, regardless.” You have to smile at that, lightly chuckling. Aly tilts her head as her hair brushes her shoulders after a moment of quiet thinking. A lighter air spreads out like her voice from the speakers. “...Who did your makeup in so little time?”

“See you tomorrow!” You grab the end of the laptop and slam it closed as the woman yells out to you.

“Don’t fuck him on the first day!” Wanting to shrivel up and die, you avoid Nikto’s suddenly brutal gaze and quickly push a smile to your lips.

“S…she’s joking.” His pale eyes aren’t amused.

Nighttime is a strange affair between the two of you.

You jump at every strange noise—like Nikto rearranging his room better to his standards—as you think of dinner for two. Laying on the couch, back in your turtle neck, it’s hard to focus above the scrape of hardwood and the low grunts from above; the distant rhythmic stomp of feet.

You rub your eyes and groan low. This was going to be a task, even for your usually placid attitude.

“What the hell does a monster eat?” The comment is directed at the taxidermy deer on your wall as you move to stand. “Liver? The souls of my enemies?” You blink, pausing before you mumble. “Maybe that’s not so bad, now that I think about it.”

Your pantry was already sparse at best.

Tapping the cupboard, you settle on something that Alyona had taught you to make with her mother. Cabbage Soup—Schi or щи—low overall in calories but still filling when you know your limits; healthy as well as hardy. You mess with the bag of potatoes and peel out a few, turning and setting them down on the island.

With the dark night soon setting in, you push the automatic button on your wall and watch the curtains close the rest of the way with a soft buzzing sound. Sighing, you flick on the lights and get to work as the gray blobs of potatoes fall apart under your knife, set to the side.

Cooking, while you still had a complicated relationship with food, did truly make you calm down. The tremors eased up, your feet stopped moving so much—you even felt yourself getting hungry as the ingredients were roughly chopped and dropped into a pot to boil.

If you allowed yourself it, you wouldn’t have minded growing up to be a cook instead of some form of greed and envy. But the thought of that now made you lose your appetite entirely.

When you’re half done with your tiny bowl, water on the side with nothing else, Nikto stalks down the stairs.

He takes one look at your bowl and speaks lowly.

“Щи.” You hum, recognizing the word that Aly’s mother had said. He grunts, chest jerking as he comes around the island to the boiling pot; his back now to you. “You will starve with that small of a portion, Whelp.”

Blinking, you sip down some of the broth from your spoon and furrow your brow. That nickname still makes your eyelids narrow in slight disapproval, but you let it go.

“I don’t think so, Nikto. It’s the last bit of calories I need for the day.” Pale eyes watch over his shoulder, pulling smaller.

“I find that insulting.” His hand grabs the ladle, bringing it up to stare. The Russian’s shoulder blades pull out at the motion, the line of his spine most likely showing through his skin under all that gear. You should tell him it’s okay to take it off, but you highly doubt he ever does outside of sleep. “Pointless.”

“You try being a model,” you remark. “You’ve got the body for it, at least. I know a few people that would swoon over the height alone.”

Nikto’s visible skin pulls, biceps tense. “Swoon, Girl?” The accent makes it sound like a bark from a dog.

You take your last spoonful, covering your mouth with your hand as you speak.

“Like,” pausing, you swallow, “actually I don’t know what that means. Become emotionally affected, I guess?”

“I do not care if people become ‘emotionally affected’ by my height.” Nikto pulls a bowl from the cupboard—a large one. “Such things are below me. All that matters is the mission.”

“Sounds boring,” you huff. “Sour cream is in the fridge.”

The light from the machine greets you as the condiment is taken out and emptied into a nearly overflowing bowl of cabbage soup. Blinking at the amount of food that would burst your stomach if you ate it, you shrug and clean out the last of the broth by bringing the lip of the bowl to your mouth.

Nikto huffs, looking down at the soup. He pauses.

“Where is баранины?” Your confusion must be plainly stated on your face because he seems to clench his jaw and say through his teeth. “Lamb.”

“Alyona never made it with meat,” you answer, hopping off your stool and moving to put your dirty dishes in the sink. “But I’ve heard everyone makes it differently depending on where you grew up. Was that how your parents made it?”

When you turn back around he’s already walking away from you. Watching, wide-eyed at how silently he cleared the room, you make a small sound in the back of your throat as he disappears upstairs.

The silence wafts back in, only the small noise from the record player dancing in your ears.

You lick your lips for the remaining taste of food and clean up with a still-growling stomach, shaking your head at the strange character living with you. Hoping this doesn’t drag out any longer than it has to and you’re able to find the stalker soon, you hear your phone go off on the counter as you mull over your predicament.

After you put the last of the leftovers away, you pat your hands on your pants and reach for your device, flipping over the screen and reading what will probably be a text from Aly for tomorrow.

You pause.

UNKNOWN NUMBER:

‘Why won’t you let me love you?’

Staring, whatever sense of normalcy you had from cooking was snatched away. The blood in your veins halts with a blockage of iron and fear. Instantaneously, adrenaline spikes, making your pupils go small and your jaw clench.

Hands shake. You almost drop your phone.

With a quick punch of your fingers, you delete the text and block the number—tossing your device back to the counter and moving away from it until your back hits the cupboards.

Spasming palms slap to the stone countertop, grip tight.

You stare at the phone for a very long time, hearing nothing but the dull drone of the piano, the sounds of the city outside, and the pulse of your veins. Static was in your ears.

Gasping for a sudden deep breath, you clear your throat and turn away to finish cleaning, your body unable to stay still.

That night, like the ones previous, you find trouble sleeping.

The room was only illuminated by the fairy lights you’d strung from the ceiling, a soft fade and reentry like twinkling stars hanging in a black sky. You stare at them with open eyes, laying on your back surrounded by a multitude of quilts and blankets—pillows that crowd with doughy insides.

Nikto was turning in his bed, and the movement was setting you on edge.

The PMC had ordered you to keep the door between your rooms open at night, in case something was happening he would hear you better. You held your tongue on the fact that if this creep managed to get into your penthouse then it was already over for you. Regardless, now you could hear every shift and grunt—every huff of annoyed air.

No doubt the Full bed in the spare room was too tiny for him, nothing compared to your King.

Sighing and covering your eyes with your forearm, you call out sleepily.

“Are you sleeping alright?” The shifting stops. You wait for a response but get none. “Nikto?” Nothing.

Sitting up, your large silk pajamas hang off one shoulder as you yawn; covering your mouth you stand and steady yourself on the oak bed frame. Standing so you can get your bearings, you decide to do what you normally do when you can’t sleep.

Grabbing your phone’s flashlight, you flick it on and head to the kitchen—being extra careful and taking the stairs at half the speed you normally would. In the kitchen you grab at the stacked teacups and pick one with flowers on the sides; giggling to yourself at the thought.

Magnolia Tea.

Its smell burns into your nostrils as you prepare it in near-darkness, like a beacon of light the liquid shimmers. You remember your mother making it for you after the accident—helping you to sleep and stave off the nightmares; the insomnia.

You finish your cup in the kitchen but bring the second back up with you. Spilling only a little onto the tea plate, you go through the main door to your room and then turn to the blackened opening of Nitko’s doorway.

“I made tea,” your voice echoes. But no sound.

Maybe he was already asleep now.

“No need to drink it, but it helps me when I can’t sleep. Magnolia, if you’re curious.” You chuckle, fairy lights illuminating your face. “Sorry, I’m keeping you up. I’ll leave it in the doorway, okay?”

Silence, but perhaps a tiny huff from inside the lion's den. Good or bad, you have no clue. Slipping back into bed, you try not to think about what you’re sleeping above—the letters from the Stalker’s gifts.

You’d never opened them, and you never would. Inside that lockbox is where they would stay.

Your phone vibrates on your nightstand, and even with the tea in your stomach, it is a long, long, time before your eyes flutter closed.

Yefim’s body dances like a puppet on a string, a shadowy figure pulling the cords and letting his decimated corpse sway; jewelry stapled into his burnt neck like a collar. A noose that your desperate fingers try to hang onto.

How long could you keep this game up?

TAGS:

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benedictscanvas · 11 months

Text

filling an empty vase - roy kent x reader

pairing: roy kent x reader

word count: 3.4k (genuinely don't know how that happened)

warnings: language (duh) and some suggestive themes. the word shagging, which is too british not to include i'm afraid

a/n: this was an anonymous request that i'm not going to put here because it kinda ruins the whole plot! but it was such a fabulous request, so thank you anon, for giving me so much space to play. if you're not sure this is your request, you mentioned "Mr I Never Smile Kent" which funnily enough, made me smile!! enjoy sunflowers <3

---

You were such a professional in so many ways, but yet again you found your focus drifting during your meeting with the rest of the coaches. Your eyes find Roy’s face with such ease, lingering on the newly thicker beard he’s been sporting recently, then travelling down to broad shoulders, ones that fill out the door frame so nicely when he folds his arms. You’re so lucky he’s always folding his arms.

Before you can move onto admiring those arms, you see his head turn towards you and you look away before you can be caught. Instead of glancing at his face to see if he’s still looking at you, you decide it’s easier to join the conversation. As the goalkeeping coach, there isn’t always much you can contribute to these discussions, but they’re very insistent on including you.

“The only thing you need to be careful of is their counter-press,” you chime in, “Mind that the boys don’t get complacent in possession or my guy will be a sitting duck out there.”

“Good thinkin, Abe Lincoln. Why don’t we add that to our pre-game talk, coach, make sure someone’s watchin’ Zoreaux’s back at all times?”

“Already writing it down, coach,” Beard replied, gaining a double thumbs up from Ted who then continued talking. Even though you’d hardly been listening, you knew to do enough research beforehand so that you were free to let your mind wander and only speak up with a few key points.

You tune back in when you recognise the gruff tone of the very man you’re trying not to admire again.

“No. Y/N stole my fucking thing. I’ve gone over the rest in training,” he says dryly, and you duck your head to your lap to hide your smirk. Of course the two of you were on the same page about strategy, you always were. Usually he got to say it before you though, “Can we go now?”

“Unless anyone’s got anythin’ they want to add?” Ted looks around at everyone’s blank and frankly, very tired faces, “Not even somethin’ personal? Deep dark secret? Scandalous love affair, that kinda thing? Higgins, you look like there’s somethin’ right on the tip of that tongue.”

“I’m leaving,” Roy announced, walking into his office and shutting the door, even going so far as to shut the blinds on both windows before he presumably sat at his desk. You sighed and got up from your perch on the desk to take a step towards the dressing room.

“Afraid I’ve got some work to get done before I go home too,” you say, trying to be at least slightly nicer than Roy about it, “We can get personal tomorrow, alright Ted?”

He agrees with a happy grin on his face and you say goodbye to him, Beard and Trent collectively with a salute before turning on your heel and waving a goodbye to any of the team still around as you leave. You don’t go far. Unable to help yourself, you knock on Roy’s office door from the other side and shuffle your weight between your feet as you wait.

“Fuck off,” comes the greeting, so you open the door and slip inside.

“Even if it’s me?”

His head turns at the sound of your voice and suddenly his features look a special kind of soft, even in the harsh overhead lighting. He swivels his chair fully to face you, but makes no other move.

“Especially if it’s you,” he confirms, folding his arms again like he knew the effect he had on you, “You’re a fucking pervert.”

You gasp, clutching at the door handle behind you in a show of shock.

“I’m a what?”

“You heard me. Staring at me like you do in meetings wasn’t in your job description when we hired you, last I checked.”

“Last I checked, shagging your goalkeeping coach wasn’t in your job description, but you made pretty quick work of it.”

That was enough to get him moving. He’s quick out of his chair for a man with a bad knee, quick to crowd you against the wall just next to the door. Someone would have to really peer in to see the two of you, something he’d probably calculated even though your mind was already blank at the new proximity.

“You’re right,” he says, voice sinfully low, hands either side of your hips but not touching you yet, “And I was staring at you the whole fucking meeting anyway, so I’m a pervert and a hypocrite.”

“Well, I don’t know if I can keep on with you if you’re both. One of them, maybe I can look past it, but both?”

Finally, one hand comes off the wall to stroke a line down your side with the backs of his knuckles. You try not to give him the satisfaction of shivering, but fail miserably.

“Think you can brave it?” he murmurs, that same hand brushing along your cheekbone, still all rough knuckles instead of his palm, “I’ll take you to Big Tesco later.”

Your whole face brightens despite the heavy tension that had settled like a mist in the room. You reach up to gently hold his wrist, stroking a thumb back and forth over the pulse that jumped there.

“Shit, you know the way to a girl’s heart, Kent,” you whisper, syrupy and cloying, “I take it all back. We can go as long as you like.”

The innuendo drew the growl from him that you’d been hoping for. The hand at your cheek was quick to turn until he was cupping your face and pulling you into him, kissing you deep and slow and longingly. Each kiss with him was better than the last. Yes, it had started hot and desperate after a month of unbearable electricity between you, a rushed encounter at a hotel after a particularly adrenaline-filled away game.

Ever since, Roy had slowed things down. Not in the way you’d perhaps expected - he was still hot and heavy whenever the two of you got the chance, but he was taking his time with you. Teasing and learning. Nobody had ever treated you like this before, like you were something to be revered. Worshipped.

It was the same now, as he anchored himself with a hand on your back, pulling you further in, kissing you with genuine hunger.

“Roy? Can I come and get my stuff.”

Trent. It was always Trent. You liked the man so much, spent a lot of time with him, in fact, but if he interrupted you and Roy one more time, you had half a mind to hide his manuscript or something.

Roy did his special silent groan that he did whenever he couldn’t groan aloud, where he glared at the ceiling as he broke away from you and then clenched his fists in front of him. It was adorable, not that you would tell him that.

“All good,” you whisper, despite it definitely not being all good. It was entirely a joint decision not to tell the team about the two of you yet, but sometimes you wished you could announce it to the whole fucking world if it would get you some alone time.

You squeeze his hand and slip away to the adjoining door between his and Ted’s office. You hear Roy grunt for Ted to come in behind you, but you squeeze through into the other room before you hear any more of their inevitably one-sided conversation. Ted turns to you brightly as you enter.

“Decided you wanted to get personal sooner, Y/N?” he grins, and you can tell he isn’t really serious.

“Just forgot my keys,” you said sheepishly, retrieving them from the desk where you’d left them completely on purpose. It was always good to have a back-up plan and Roy wasn’t the only quick thinker between you, “See you tomorrow, Coach.”

“Can’t wait, coach!”

As you exit for real this time, glancing into Roy’s office as you pass, you take out your phone to shoot him a text. You’re saved under an unassuming name in his phone, so even if Trent sees it, he’ll be none the wiser.

We’re still on for tonight, right? The way I navigate a Big Tesco will blow your mind x

You press send with a smile to yourself, continuing on towards your office to pack up for the evening. Your phone buzzes before you even get there.

You blow my mind every fucking day. See you soon x

God, you could clutch your phone to your chest and squeal in the corridor, but instead, you speed up your walk to get home as quickly as possible. There was no harm in getting all dressed up to go to the supermarket when you were going with an insanely fit professional footballer, you reasoned.

---

Big Tesco. The place dreams are made of, or at least it was when you were younger and felt like you could get lost in the aisles and never return. Nowadays, it was likely nostalgia that kept you coming back, but it still felt like your first Big Tesco trip with Roy was a pretty big deal.

Mainly you needed snacks for movie night, but Roy was happy to indulge you and drive twenty minutes away for this if that’s what you wanted.

“If we’re doing Julia Roberts, we have to do Pretty Woman, obviously.”

“And Erin fucking Brockovich,” Roy agreed, “But if we do Sandra Bullock, we get the modern day masterpiece that is Miss Congeniality.”

“Oh, I still need to see that one!”

Roy stops, Pringles tube hovering above the trolley. He looks at you like he’s seeing you for the first time and he doesn’t like what he sees.

“Right, we’re doing Bullock then, if I have to fucking culture you as well as buy your snacks.”

“We’re splitting the snacks-”

“The fuck we are,” he cut in, already contradicting himself, “I was fucking joking, please can we not get into another snack debate. You bought them last time.”

“Fine. And I’m happy with Sandy, too, so you win twice, buddy,” you grin at him, not expecting him to grin back but ecstatic when he does. You have half a mind to press him up against the Doritos and finish what you’d started earlier, but you have plenty of time for that in appropriate places later.

You had all night, in fact, post-Sandra Bullock marathon. The thought brings a particular movie to mind.

“As long as we throw Two Weeks Notice in there too.”

“Hugh Grant? No.”

“Oh come on, he’s a national treasure,” you argue, sliding your arm through his as the two of you continue your journey through the aisles.

“He’s a fucking idiot, is what he is,” Roy bites back, as he picks up the chocolate he knows you love, “I’ll allow The Proposal.”

“You know what, that’s a better choice anyway. We have a deal if we can make a stop in the homeware section after this?” you say hopefully, excited when he sighs and nods. You kiss his shoulder as you continue walking, “We’re so fucking good at this compromising shit!”

You lean away from him enough to hold your hand up for a high five. He indulges you reluctantly with a light slap from his own.

“We are. It’s cause I’m so fucking nice.”

“To me,” you add, staring up at him as he slows the trolley to a stop beside the biscuits. He takes your face in his hands after a moment.

“To you, yeah,” he agrees, voice all soft like it had been earlier. You’re not going to kiss him senseless in a supermarket, the two of you had some shame and a lot of love for privacy, but it was nice to indulge in something like this, a sweet moment shared without fear of anyone seeing the two of you. You turn your head to kiss his palm, “You’ve sent me all fucking soft.”

“You love it.”

“Love you, more like,” he says, for the first fucking time, in a Big Tesco. You’d found out you were getting a party bus for your 10th birthday here too, so it was a location for big occasions. You kiss his palm; once, twice, three times.

“You have to say the I or it doesn’t mean anything,” you tease, but you’re beaming up at him as he strokes the skin underneath your eyes and you almost let them flutter shut.

“Who fucking told you that? Sounds like shit Jamie would say.”

“Jan Maas.”

“Fucking prick,” he says, then a moment later, “I love you, then, if you fucking insist.”

“I do insist,” you giggle, leaning forward until your face is in his chest so you can safely say: “I love you too.”

Its a little muffled, but thankfully he doesn’t ask you to repeat it again like you think he will. He just wraps his arms around your shoulders and keeps you close to him for a long while.

“Roy? Hey boyo!!”

You freeze in place, face still hidden. If anything, Roy’s arms tighten around you rather than letting go as he turns to see Colin waving at him, alongside Sam, Isaac, Jamie and the aforementioned Jan Maas. They all pile over towards him and you know its a matter of time before they realise its you. Jamie’s already bounding over as if he’s won the lottery.

“Roy’s got a girl! A real woman, like!” Jamie exclaims as he reaches them and you decide to get this over with sooner than later, lifting your head to stare at him wearily. He frowns, “Oh. Y/N, hiya.”

Of course he isn’t connecting any dots. He isn’t quite the connecting type, however much you love him to little pieces. Sam is staring at you a lot more knowingly, Isaac stuck with his mouth open. They’ve all caught on a little quicker than Jamie.

“The two of you together,” Jan muses, “I do not believe this is a pairing made to last.”

“Oi, Jan Maas,” Isaac pipes up, especially as Roy’s already stepped forward to threaten him, “Not cool.”

“I am just telling you the truth. You are both a little grumpy, you will not have the needed balance.”

“We’re balancing perfectly fucking well, thank you,” Roy says, and you can hear that he’s gritting his teeth, “As a team. Of coaches. Because that’s what we fucking are.”

Oh, he was going to play the ‘it wasn’t what it looked like’ card? You weren’t expecting it, but you’d happily back him up if he wanted you to.

“You are telling me that was a friend hug?” Sam asks, voice full of disbelief. You look up at Roy to see what he’ll say to that, but he’s already looking down at you with an untraceable look on his face. When he finally looks back at the boys, he takes your hand in his.

“No. It was a fucking boyfriend-girlfriend hug, alright? Any of you tell anyone before we do and I’ll feed you to a fucking monitor lizard.”

You’d watched a documentary about them last night that had likely led to that threat. Jamie’s snickering but tries to sober up when Roy immediately turns to him. He holds his hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry mate, I am, I’ve jus’ never heard a grown man say ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ before,” he says, back to giggling by the end of his sentence and Jan Maas is quick to dissolve into full blown laughter. You bring a hand up to your mouth to hide your own amusement, lest Roy feel betrayed by it.

“Right, fuck off and leave us alone then. We’re on a tight fucking movie night schedule and I won’t have you twats throwing us off.”

“Hey! That’s why we’re here! If we’re all doing movie night, why don’t you join us?” Sam asks, and you can see he’s teasing even if Roy can’t tell. Still, you take it as an opportunity to stake your claim as you wrap an arm around Roy’s bicep and cling to him.

“Look, you lot hog this man all day every day. I’m taking him home and we’ll see you tomorrow, alright?”

It was very Roy of you, just with the addition of a wink at the end that told the boys you were half-joking. Jamie seemed almost impressed, while Sam was trying not to laugh at you. That man never took you seriously, and you loved it.

“We’ll leave you to it then,” Isaac decided, dragging Jamie backwards a little by the collar when he opened his mouth to tease Roy one final time, “Enjoy your night, yeah? See you tomorrow.”

Roy grunted his goodbye, but you waved back at them when they waved, mostly at you. Jamie mouthed something at Roy but, luckily for you both, Roy couldn’t work it out.

“Pricks,” he mutters once they’re far away enough not to hear him and you let out a little snort.

“They were very nice about that, you know? I was expecting a lot worse,” you said, pleasantly surprised at the lack of proper teasing. You knew there was likely more to come once they’d had a while to process it, but still. There was a certain weight lifted knowing that someone had finally been told.

“Do people not say boyfriend-girlfriend anymore?” he asks abruptly, looking down at you from where you’re still clinging to him. You grin at up at him.

“We should bring it back. I love boyfriend-girlfriend. I think that’s how we should introduce ourselves to people from now on.”

He rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice, but tugged you into a quick, public appropriate kiss nonetheless.

“Let’s get you some fucking hobnobs and then we can go and look at fancy glassware, yeah?,” he announces, shaking his head with such obvious fondness when you cheer and turn to the biscuits. He stays close, a hand hovering near your back, and you’re a little worried movie night might be forgotten when you get home given how handsy the two of you have been all day. You resume your shopping tucked into his side, and only bump into the boys twice more on your trip around the wonders of Big Tesco.

Later, when you’re eventually curled into Roy’s side during a movie night that started way later than intended, your phone buzzes a few too many times in a row to ignore. You glance at Roy quizzically as you grab it, seeing a bunch of texts coming in from Sam.

Couldn’t resist. Don’t let Roy hate me. I’ve deleted them on my phone now, so they’re just yours. Lunch tomorrow?

Roy grumbled a little beside you as he read over your shoulder, but really he should have gotten used to your occasional lunch plans with Sam by now, even if he liked having you all to himself for at least one hour during the day. You settle into him even more as you scroll through a bunch of photos Sam’s attached with wide eyes.

You staring up at Roy. Roy kissing you. The grins on both your faces when you part. Then one that has you reeling, where you’re facing the biscuits with your hands on your hips and Roy is looking at you. Enthralled. You’re not even fucking doing anything.

“That little shit,” Roy breathes, squeezing your thigh where his hand was already resting.

“I love them,” you say instead of responding, tilting your head back to look at Roy, “Our first proper photos together.”

“They look like a fucking pap took them,” he complains, but he's still studying them and you can tell he likes them really.

“Look how happy we look," you’re stuck on how he looks at you when you’re not even looking at him. When there’s nothing to be gained from it. You glance at the new vase sitting on your coffee table, with fresh flowers Roy had insisted on because 'if we're getting a fucking vase we have to fucking fill it'. Here he was, filling your life with so many little pieces of joy.

“Well we are fucking happy, aren’t we?”

There's a little bit of vulnerability in his question, like he needs confirmation. You lock your phone and toss it to the side, knowing you can reply to Sam in a bit. For now, you pause the movie and clamber to straddle Roy’s lap, seeing that look on his face again as he stares up at you. It only spurs you on.

“We’re very fucking happy, Roy.”

He grins, which is rare, but then he kisses you and that’s not rare at all.

(roy makes a mental note to thank sam for the pictures tomorrow, even if he tells him to do extra laps in the same sentence to maintain the balance)

#hahhahahaa have another fic in one night!!! because i love you <3 <3 #roy kent x reader #roy kent #ted lasso x reader #ted lasso #roy kent fanfiction #roy kent imagine #roy kent x you #roy kent fluff #roy kent oneshot

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lucy90712 · 1 month

Text

Bad Timing- Ruben Dias

WC: 3.4k My eyes opened slowly when I felt a hand gently rubbing my cheek and as I was coming to my senses a kiss was pressed to my nose which made me smile slightly. As my eyes adjusted I saw my lovely husband Ruben stood on my side of the bed ready to go to his training session. Since I entered the last few weeks of pregnancy this has been our routine as I have found it increasingly difficult to get out of bed. I was hoping we wouldn't need to be doing this for this long as my due date was nearly a week ago but here I am still very much pregnant and struggling with pretty much everything.

"I'm sorry to wake you love but I need to leave in a minute and I didn't want to leave you here until I got back" Ruben said softly

"It's ok I need to get up anyway my back is killing me" I said

"I'm sorry amor let me help you get settled downstairs and maybe when I get back I can see what I can do to help you" he said

"Thanks Rubes but it's ok I don't think there is anything you can do it's just pregnancy pain" I said

He didn't say anything else instead he just helped me up and then down the stairs and to my usual spot on the sofa which has everything I need. Being the amazing husband he is Ruben filled up my water bottle for me and got me some breakfast before giving me one last kiss and heading out the house. I always hate when Ruben leaves but I know he has to go to training and I'm certainly not going to stop him unless I really have to. We were both hoping that the baby would be here by now as Ruben had a few days off not too long ago which would've been perfect timing but instead our little one wanted to wait until there is a long run of games.

Usually once I get out of bed some of my back pain subsides but today it only seemed to be getting worse which made any way I tried to sit very uncomfortable. It seems that today everything hurts my back, my feet, my ribs just everything is sore which is a horrible feeling but it's only going to get worse when I actually go into labour. For the last week I have done nothing but sit on this sofa which has been driving me mad but I just can't do anything else no matter how much I try it's just too exhausting.

After sitting down for a while I had to get up to use the bathroom which was difficult but I got myself up and to the bathroom eventually. As I was walking back I felt liquid gush down my legs which a few minutes ago I would've thought was something else but at this time it's very clear that my waters have just broken. At some point I knew this would happen but it still really shocked me and I didn't know what to do, do I call Ruben or do I wait as it could still be a long time before this baby arrives. Our hospital bag isn't even fully packed yet because we have had other things going on and it has just slipped my mind. There is so much to do but I can't do it all by myself or at least not all at once so I need to think clearly.

First I got changed as my clothes were wet and while I was upstairs I finished packing the hospital bag which made me feel a lot more relaxed. After I got back downstairs I cleaned the floor and then went to sit back down so I could grab my home and text Ruben. While doing other things I decided that just texting Ruben would be best that way he could decide what he wanted to do whenever he read the message and if I need him before he has chance to read it I can call someone at the training ground to go and get him.

You: my waters have just broken. Don't feel like you need to come home it could be hours yet. Enjoy training x

It's not everyday you send a text saying you are in labour so I didn't really know what to say I just know I wanted to sound as calm as possible so I tried to not make it seem like a big deal even though it kind of is.

As time progressed on I could start to feel proper contractions which were still very far apart but they were definitely more painful than I had anticipated. The first few I managed to breathe through on my own but then the pain almost started to accumulate and I was really struggling on my own. I thought of calling Ruben a few times but I stopped myself as I knew he has to work and I'm not far enough into labour to bother him yet. As a compromise I decide to send a few more texts just in case he happens to glance at his phone as then he'll see a few messages from me and maybe he'll read them.

You: what time does your training finish?

You: please tell me you don't need to stay late today

You: these contractions hurt more than I thought they would

You: why did we decide to have a baby this is awful and it's not even nearly as bad as it will be

Ruben's POV

After leaving home this morning I haven't felt good about leaving y/n but I know she will be fine. If anything happens she will call me or get someone to tell me so I know I don't need to worry but it's difficult as any minute now she could go into labour and I want to be there when that happens. She keeps promising me that she will be fine on her own even when she first goes into labour but I don't want her to have to go through that on her own this is our baby and I want to be there for her the entire time.

When I arrived at the training ground I had to do an interview first but I was running a bit late so I just dropped off all my things in the locker room and ran off to go to my interview. As soon as I got to the interview I realised I didn't have my phone but the interview wasn't supposed to be long and I was already late so I couldn't go back and get it for just incase. The interview actually ran over by quite a bit so I didn't have long until we actually started training so I had to run back to the locker room in order to be ready in time.

"Hey mate I'm guessing your interview ran over" Jack said

"Yeah it's partly my fault I was a bit late" I said

"You might want to check your phone before we go out man it's been going crazy the last few minutes" John told me

"Ok I'll check it in a second thanks" I replied

I picked my phone up to see I had a few texts from y/n. As I read them one by one I could feel my eyes getting wider and my jaw dropping further. She's actually in labour and in pain and I'm not there to support her. I know she won't want me missing training but I need to be there for her especially when she says it's already more painful than she expected. I was in two minds as I know y/n will be mad if I come home early but I also think she needs me even if she won't admit it. There is also the fact that we have a lot of games coming up but honestly that doesn't really matter to me right now what matters is my wife and baby.

"Is everything ok you look like you've just seen a ghost" John stated

"Y/n's in labour I've got to go" I said gathering all my things which I shoved down earlier

"I need to tell someone I'm going where are all the coaches" I spoke mostly to myself

"Don't worry about that you go we will tell everyone they will understand just go be with y/n" Bernardo said

"Thanks guys I guess I'll see you tomorrow" I said running out

Ruben: I'm coming home I'll be there soon love don't worry ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~

Your POV

Ruben seemingly made it home in no time at all after I got his text as it felt like just 5 minutes later he was by my side and checking if I needed anything. He stayed by my side from the second he got home holding my hand and timing my contractions as thats what the doctor told us to do. I felt bad dragging Ruben away from training especially with all the important games coming up but he kept telling me that him being here is more important than any game and that pep would understand when he found out.

My labour progressed much quicker than I was expecting. With this being my first child I was told that it was highly likely I would be in labour for a long time but within just two hours my contractions were less than 5 minutes apart and we were heading to the hospital. Ruben put the hospital bag in the car first before then coming back to help me walk to the car which took us a while as I had a contraction halfway to the car. Riding in the car was so incredibly painful especially when we went over bumps in the road but with Ruben's support and a bit of swearing we made it to the hospital and they gave us a delivery room straight away.

By this point I was in a lot of pain and although I didn't plan to get an epidural I asked the nurse as soon as she came in if I could have one. Ruben and I talked about a birth plan a few weeks before my due date and when I told him I didn't want an epidural he told me it was completely my decision but now that I've just completely thrown my decision out the window I feel awful. I mean I barely lasted a few hours before I gave up and took the painkillers the second I could which is so pathetic.

"What's on your mind love I can tell you are thinking about something" Ruben said

"Just the fact that the second we got here I asked for the epidural I just feel stupid that I couldn't manage the pain even though my body is built to do this" I sniffled trying not to cry

"Hey its ok there is no shame in needing something to help with the pain if this whole thing was a breeze they would never have invented the epidural and it doesn't make you any less of a hero in my eyes" he said

"Thank you I needed that" I said

In that moment the nurse came in and checked how dilated I was which I know is pretty standard but the look on her face and how quickly she called for a doctor scared the life out of me. Even Ruben looked worried and he's usually the calm one in moments like this which only made me more stressed which could very easily be seen on the monitors I was hooked up to.

"What's going on is everything ok?" I asked

"Yes everything's fine its just I can't give you that epidural as you are already 10cm dilated so its time for you to push" the nurse explained

After pushing for 15 minutes I finally heard the best sound I've ever heard our little baby crying for the first time and the nurses announced that it was a girl (Ruben gives off such girl dad vibes to me). Straight away the nurses placed the baby on my chest and I couldn't help but breakdown into tears as she was just so small and cute. Ruben then let go of my hand for the first time in ages and leant down to kiss my forehead which is when I noticed that he had tears in his eyes too. It was such a special moment that will definitely live in my memory forever but sadly it had to end as the nurses had to take the baby to do all the necessary tests on her.

Once we got our little girl back she didn't leave our arms until we were discharged and we had to put her in the car seat so we could go home. When we got home I had to put her down as neither of us have eaten since this morning which isn't great. Just as Ruben was going to order us food as neither of us wanted to cook his phone started ringing with a call from pep so he got up to answer it as he didn't want to wake the sleeping baby. The call brought be back to reality though as even though we've just welcomed our little girl into the world Ruben is needed with the team so he's not going to be around to help as much as I would like.

Weirdly Ruben came back with a big smile on his face which I thought might just be because of the events of today but he seemed a bit too happy especially after getting a call from his boss so I was suspicious as to what they were talking about.

"Pep has given me some time off this week so I get to stay home with the two of you" Ruben said

"Wait really how long?" I asked

"The rest of this week and then next Monday as well so I don't need to leave you until Tuesday oh and also he says congratulations" Ruben said

"You have no idea how relived I am that you're going to be here for a few days while we get into a routine" I said

~~~~~~~~~~

The week Ruben had off flew by and now it's Tuesday morning and he's back to training. We had an amazing week just being in our little newborn bubble though we worked out a good routine that works for us and we got to have plenty of cuddles with our little girl while shes still so tiny. Sadly our little bubble had to be burst at some point and today is the day as Ruben had to get back to work at some point although I wish he could be here for a bit longer as I know things are going to be hard once he leaves me on my own. I know Ruben feels bad about leaving as he wants to spend more time with our daughter while she's still little but he has to get back to the team and plus it will show our little girl that you have be dedicated to get what you want.

Luckily I don't have to do everything on my own straight away as Ruben wants his teammates to meet our baby so I am going to training with him today so everyone can meet her. I haven't left the house since she was born so I'm excited to get out and see some people plus it will be nice to not be completely alone on Ruben's first day back at training. Being the first time I'm leaving the house I had to get up early and wash my hair as I can't lie I haven't washed it since giving birth as I just haven't had the time. It felt good to have some time to myself and to be able to put on some nicer clothes that are mine and not Ruben's as I've been wearing a lot of his clothes postpartum. I would've liked to have put on a bit of makeup to hide my dark circles but I didn't have time as Ruben needed to get ready so I had to take over baby duties again.

After a few trips back and forth to the house we finally made it out the house only a few minutes late but we arrived to the training centre a bit later as Ruben drove really carefully because he wants to make sure both me and our daughter are safe. When we arrived Ruben helped me out of the car before grabbing the car seat holding it in his other hand that wasn't holding mine. We had to walk a little bit slower as I still can't move as well without a bit of pain. Thankfully Ruben is really patient and despite already being late he was happy to go at my pace and told me not to rush although I did try and walk a bit quicker.

When we made it to the locker room Ruben went in quickly to make sure all the guys were decent before coming back out and opening the door for me. As we went in all the boys were looking at us which made me feel a little bit awkward but I know they won't judge me for how tired I look.

"How are you guys?" John asked as he came over to greet us both

"We're good very happy but very tired" Ruben laughed

"What about you y/n is Ruben helping you?" Bernardo asked

"I'm ok getting better each day and Ruben's been great I couldn't ask for more" I said

We all spoke for a bit longer before the baby started crying not because she wanted anything but just to get some attention as she likes to be held pretty much 24/7. I picked her up and rocked her in my arms for a few seconds which stopped the crying and replaced it with satisfied baby noises. Since little one was content and falling asleep I asked if any of the boys wanted to hold her and of course they all did but I handed her to Bernardo first as him and his wife have been really helpful since she was born dropping off food for us when we first came home from the hospital.

She got passed around all of the players who were all doting over which made me so happy to see as it means Ruben and I have a great support system around us. Just as I finally got my baby back in my arms pep and the other coaches came in to see what their players were up to a they should all be out on the field by now. Just before they were about to be lectured pep saw me stood with Ruben and stopped his rant he was about to go on and instead came over to say hello. Again I was asked how I was doing before we were able to introduce our daughter to the staff who were just as excited as the rest of the guys to meet her. As this was the first time I had seen pep since giving birth I wanted to thank him for letting Ruben have some time off.

"Thank you so much for letting Ruben have the week off it's been so helpful having him home I don't know what I'd have done with him" I said when I got a minute with pep

"You don't need to thank me family is important and having a newborn is difficult so I was more than happy to give him the time off" he said

"Well thank you it's truly been a blessing" I said

After a few more quick conversations the boys had to go and train so Ruben gave me one last kiss after helping me take everything to the stands so I could sit and watch the training session. It was weird not having him by my side like he has been the past week but I know I need to get used to not having him around as much as that's the way it will be from now on.

#ruben dias x reader #ruben dias imagines #ruben dias imagine #ruben dias #football imagine

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eldritch-spouse · 2 months

Note

HI AGAIN. Ever since I found your blog and also sent a totally normal ramble abt cannibalism I've been just. Gently tossing your guys back and forth in my head. You're a wonderful writer and I'm always excited to see you on my dash!!

Gonna throw my hat in as asking an actual question- How would your guys fare if their obsession had a particularly weird or morbid interest? I get the vibes that some of them would most certainly encourage it but I also feel like Vinnel would hit me with a hammer if I panic infodumped about ebola-

[Hellow, glad to see you again! Also, I know you probably just forgot, but "your guys" encompasses way too many characters to talk about at once, so I'll assume you were going for TCE staff.]

Morell especially likes hearing about your cannibalism infodumps. They're actually useful to him, since he's going to be living with you, and he needs to know what he can and can't feed you, as well as a possible child between you. It's actually interesting stuff, he'd like it if you talked about it to his family too, you're a smart piggy. Any other topics are usually met with less enthusiasm (unless kitchen/food related), and he'll ask you to quit it if you start talking too much about mushrooms. Overall, it's nice background noise to work to.

Patches is all about infodumping. In fact, you're subjected to it often too, even if he doesn't always stop to explain basic concepts you'd need to understand his rambling. He'll give you a recorder he has, so he can keep the sound of that boundless enthusiasm in your voice forever. He's much more participative than the others, asking various questions and tossing random scenarios at you that'll prompt you to learn even more. There's a potential he'll get distracted and stop working to just research this with you the whole day.

Gallon loves a weirdo -No offense- Feel free to dump all that morbidity on him, he soaks it up like a sponge (so does Martin, be careful). Although he prefers to let you speak unhindered, only egging you on when it seems you're getting passionately angry about things, there's a chance Gallon may begin his own little tidbit sharing regarding a variety of poisons and toxins. He's selective with what he lets slip, but figures it could interest you.

Santi likes listening to you. Doesn't matter what it's about. There's only one thing he doesn't want you to morbidly talk to him about, anything featuring kids. Other than that, you think a rant about the intricacies of cannibalism's effects will kill his mood? Hah, nice try. He usually doesn't have anything smart to say, but may actually pitch in with some first hand details if you mention something sexual and morbid.

Let's face it, this is going in one of Grimbly's eardrums and out the other. Unless, you can talk like you're in a true crime podcast, then he's all ears. Grimbly typically responds to these interests by bragging to others about how his Mommy's "so smart" and "cultured" and he learns so much with you! You should start a YouTube channel!

Nebul likes to hear what you think is morbid. He'll let you ramble when you've been good enough to earn his attention, or if it allows you to keep obeying him. He has his own morbidities to share with you, as a wraith who has seen the darkest parts of many a mind. Surely, you of all people would be fascinated to know how the brain reacts to very invasive types of trauma only some monsters can inflict...

Vinnel will use this to his advantage during shows. You're placed in dangerous games where the whole goal is for you to explain said morbid concepts to the audience while Vinnel or Jingles try to destabilize you so you'll fall into painful contraptions or get cut/bruised/undressed. Sometimes Vinnel pays attention to your infodumps, other times he openly doesn't, it's a coin toss.

Belo sincerely discourages you from seeking such dark information in your brain. A lesser's mind is like a canvas, and it shouldn't be furnished with such desolate knowledge... If your morbid interests somehow can shine a glimmer of positivity or utility, the angel will be a little more inclined to letting you keep pursuing these topics. Otherwise, Belo actively attempts to distract you.

Sybastian doesn't understand about 80% of what you're about to tell him, but he has all the time in the world to sit and listen to his favorite person spit words. He's not verbally communicative during these episodes, but he may clap depending on how impressive the information is, and he remembers things you say enough to sometimes present you with paraphernalia vaguely related to the topics of your morbid interests.

Fank-e is a good bet because he can add onto your information in real time, or correct small detail you may get them wrong. He's generally happy to give you links to more information sources and try to match your level of knowledge, uncaring of how dark the subject theme may be.

If there's one thing you can infodump to Krulu about, it would be diseases. Plagues and ailments of several types are his specialty, the chances of him imparting bits of knowledge you absolutely should not possess on this matter are high. Another thing you may infodump to him about is corvids. It gets him in very favorable moods, surprisingly.

#Morell oc #Gallon oc #Belo oc #Patches oc #Nebul oc #Sybastian oc #Vinnel oc #Santi oc #Grimbly oc #Fank-e oc #Krulu oc #hi-im-lugh

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katz-chow · 8 months

Note

Coming from puff puffs blog 🤧🤥 hope you don't mind 😝🙈🙉 ur also totally gaining a new follower..

WHAT ARE YOUR HEADCANONS ON SOAP? 🥰🥰🥰 unless you've already done this before then I am so sorry 😓

relationship with soap headcanons

warnings: sfw, fluff, some angst, relationship arguments, family trauma mentioned, religious trauma, homophobia, bad dad

a/n: my fav cod man is soap so this took my top priority!!! i think about this man a lot, 09 and reboot version. reboot is my fav though, realistically, he's who i would actually get with. here’s all the things i’ve thought about him, there’s probably more tbh… OK OK HERE :))

childhood hcs

johnny soap mactavish comes from a large family of 5 siblings, he's the second oldest. it's elsie, him, blair, callum, and olivia.

growing up in a family of mainly girls got him on that respect women juice. he would always have to make sure his younger siblings are ok and aren't you know, being bullied. his parents were adamant on 2 year age gaps between them all.

his cousin, jack, was an sas operator and that was what made him want to join. they had to call security forces to arrest him out at some point because he kept sneaking in to watch them do stuff lol

elsie left for uni with her bf to live in soho when johnny was 16, the same year he would talk to recruiters around his hometown, driving hours and then getting rejected the same day due to his age

9th grade (year 10) chemistry got him obsessed with stem and its *explosive* results. he aced chemistry and then took advanced chemistry and physics just because he loved it so much

after this, as soon as he turned 18, he went to sign his papers THEN graduated school (he's just like me fr). his mom was so worried for him, especially when her sister told her about the danger that jack would get himself into. in the end, he promised he'll always call her and his siblings

his dad's an ass, hes an alcoholic, a cheater, a *bitch*... he would always take the kids to church on sundays and twisted the religion into a reason for his behavior. claiming that johnny's mom being at home was just "their culture"

she makes a killer shepherd's pie though

always had had some sort of love-hate relationship with the catholic faith. on one hand, it was nice to know there's always at least someone watching out for him, but after hearing the constant belittlement from his father, claiming he wasn't "manly enough" for not willing to give his life up in the service, he started to resent the “all merciful”.

he ended up blaming god for all his faults, letting him take accountability. this especially happened when he got diagnosed with adhd when he was 17, his dad didn’t believe in mental health. his mom was only a bit better about it, they both refused meds for him.

he's bisexual, leans towards women though. found this out after a truth or dare game in junior year (year 12) and some beers in a closet

at one point, callum acccidently let it slip at dinner when johnny had first moved out that he had met a cute guy and their dad screamed and yelled at the whole family, especially their mom, about "raising a fucking whore of a son, dragging the family down to shite"

blair called and told johnny a few days later and johnny rushed his work as quickly as possible and begged his chain of command for a few days off to go back home to his family

his family gets loud…like really loud. there’s 7 people what do you expect?

it gets especially bad when it’s sunday morning and you gotta get 7 people awake and looking their church best for an hour and a half 😔

johnny is the quickest everything there is, which has its downsides too. he could run and swim the fastest in the family, but he was also the quickest eater…meaning he’s on dish washing duty. he’s quick at that too so by the time everyone’s finished, he’s washed all the other dishes that took to make dinner

broke his arm chasing a cat through someone’s yard (he was 14)

had a goat scream and kicked him because he wanted to give it a hug

he got a part time job at a local bakery in 10th grade (year 11). the pay wasn’t much but neither was the work really. olivia, who was 9 at the time, made him promise that he’ll get her a doll to have tea with. her tea set had 4 cups but only one of her, so she must get another one to join her! he kept his promise; he ended up getting three dolls for her

he can make amazing soda bread and brioche loafs now too, still keeps a starter from the owner of the bakery to this day

he had a mountain bicycle that he would take everywhere. had room behind his seat for packages and his backpack, which he would tie down. that thing had such a loud bell too, would ring constantly to “let people know hes coming and get ready”

was terrified of selkies for some reason, always had the window closed and made callum sleep by it while he slept by the door

wasn’t much of a troublemaker, but would get into trouble with his adventurous heart.

got lost in the woods once and after a while of fake courage, he sat down and cried until elsie found him. he was 20 yards (13 meters) away from the clearing 😭😭

laugh at that guys, mf was 15

personality & relationship hcs

johnny is such a fun lover. he’s handsome yeah, but what makes ppl flaunt over him is his humor. he’s what jessica rabbit said “he makes me laugh”

such a charismatic and charming person, gets it from his dad. he could talk about just about anything, also the type to strike up a conversation with a stranger at the grocery store. then end up with their number and a date or helping them dog sit

this isn’t always a good thing though, one time before he was medicated, he would talk on and on, his story becoming incoherent due to the amount of self-interruptions he made, that a group of guys got so annoyed at that pub, they punched him.

he was young, 19, and couldn’t fight, so he didn’t win and came back to the barracks with a nasty black eye

he likes to be the big spoon, has to hold something in order to sleep

feel like he’s the type to wrap his arms around a pillow and lay on his stomach to sleep

speaking of sleeping, he HATES sleeping with socks on. he tried it one day and he just shivered at the feel of it, woke up and his socks were missing (he found them under the bed)

i also feel like he sleeps like a log, unmoving once he finds his comfort, i also think it's because he had to sleep in the same bed as his siblings at one point and he didn't want to wake them by moving, so he got accustomed to being a still sleeper

one time he accidentally got into a fight at a bar when a guy kept being misogynistic and was arrested and kept in jail for the whole night until one of his civilian friends bailed him out

johnny's the type to race you in the rain to the car. again, he's quick so he's always ahead of you but then he slips from the rain and ends up all wet and muddy and in the car.

his favorite thing to do is hear you laugh. he'll do anything to hear you laugh.

whenever you're sad, he'll purposely stub his toe or trip down the stairs or make you kiss his "owie" (a papercut) to get you to cheer up. like yeah it hurts like a fucking bitch but seeing you sad hurts more than a silly tumble

number one date event is city exploring and hopping. like cafe hopping, pub hopping, museum hopping, restaurant hopping, anything that makes you get up and get going with time to sit and chill at the same time.

feels like he can eat a lot, he's the type to eat your food if you end up not liking it or being too full

when he gets home from missions and the initial excitement of seeing you dies down, he also dies down and nap for hours until it's the middle of the night and he gets up to eat something.

he loves naps. feels like he needs a nap time every day if it was possible

he's a very kind lover, he's easy going so its not hard that sometimes people take advantage of this and push his buttons until he can't take it anymore

causes a huge blowup because he can have a nasty temper whenever he bottles stuff up and pushes things aside

not a physical manifestation of anger, but definitely a verbal anger, will say things he doesn't really mean just to say it and realize right after the words leave his lips that he fucked up

but he'll stake out in front of the guest bedroom in which you've locked yourself in until you come out and he gets the chance to forgive you

the type to stand in the rain and hold a sign saying sorry right outside your window, a very cheesy romcom style (gaz made him watch them)

he loves you more than anything and loves you even more than you can keep up with him and laugh at his jokes, no matter how awful they are

he wants 4 kids by the way

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starrylothcat · 10 months

Note

1 from the spicy prompts with hunter?

YOU GOT IT, ANON! Say no more!

“Are you wearing my shirt…and only my shirt?” with Hunter x Fem!Reader (hope that's ok!)

Dangerous Game

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Cunnilingus Word Count: 700ish

Enjoy~ 😊

Spicy Prompts

You fidgeted in anticipation, sitting in The Marauder’s pilot seat. Hunter was finishing up in the refresher, and was taking his sweet time. You wanted to join him, or tell him to hurry up, but that would ruin the surprise.

The rest of the boys were gone on a supply run, leaving the two of you alone for the foreseeable future, so it was the perfect opportunity to have some fun.

Hunter had slyly offered for you to join him in the shower, but you nicely turned him down, the plan already formulating in your mind. You could see a slight look of disappointment in his face before he went to clean up, grabbing a fresh pair of clothes and closing the refresher door.

Surprisingly, you were able to slip in and out of the refresher without him noticing, the sound of the water masking your presence as you grabbed his clean shirt and made your quick, quiet exit.

You stripped yourself of all your clothes, pulling on his shirt. Even though it was clean, it smelled like him. The shirt barely covered your nether regions and you could feel your arousal growing just imagining what he was going to do with you once he found you.

You (not so) patiently waited in the pilot's seat, rubbing your thighs together to spread the slick that was already forming between your legs.

You heard the water shut off, and a few moments later, the door clicked open.

“Mesh’la, have you seen my shirt?” You heard him somewhere behind you, but you didn’t turn around.

“Hmm I don’t think so. Didn’t you grab it before you got in the shower?”

“Thought so. I must have left it on my bunk.” You heard some rustling and you pretended to look busy in the cockpit, seeing how long it’ll take for him to come over to you and see what you were wearing.

“Unless a naughty minx stole it from me…” You couldn’t help the startled gasp that left your lips, Hunter’s lips right at your ear, his voice smoky and laden with desire. How did he get to you so fast?

Hunter came to your side, looking down at you with a predatory look, seeing you in the pilot's chair, adorned in just his shirt.

Hunter spun the chair to face him. He was just wearing loose fitting lounge pants, and you could already see a bulge forming in the front. His hair was damp and water was still beaded on his tanned, taut muscles.

You bit your lip, blinking up at him, trying to hide the coy smile on your lips. “Maybe…” You whispered, as Hunter gazed down, drinking in your appearance.

“Are you wearing my shirt…and only my shirt?” His eyes locked on yours, feeling the hunger radiate off him as he leaned down. Hunter placed his hands on the seat’s armrests, caging you in. There was something about you in his shirt...your arousal overwhelming his senses as his eyes followed your legs up to where his shirt just barely covered your pussy. He could see your nipples hard through the fabric, your chest heaving. Oh, you were in trouble.

“Why don’t you find out?” You breathed, slightly lifting the hem of his shirt to show him your unclothed cunt.

Hunter let out a growl and slowly lowered himself to his knees before you, his hands moving from the armrests to your thighs, pulling you to the edge of the seat.

You opened your legs, giving him a full view of your now soaking pussy. Hunter’s eyes darkened, his large hands squeezing your legs, slowly massaging up to your core.

“Mesh’la…you’re playing a dangerous game…teasing me like this…” Hunter began kissing up your thigh, stopping every other kiss to nibble and suck, causing you to lean your head back against the seat, your eyes closing as you let out an airy sigh.

Hunter reached to grope your breasts through his shirt as his mouth inched closer to your apex, your body now quivering with anticipation.

Hunter nudged his nose against your cunt, causing you to jerk at the sudden pressure and jolt of pleasure that ran up your spine.

Hunter breathed in, and let out his own low, shaky sigh. “You really are a naughty minx…” He looked up at you from between your legs as his tongue began slowly licking up and down your folds.

You cried out, your back arching toward him as he began his meal, slow and deliberate. “Hunter…please…more…” You gasped, your hands now gripping his head, intertwining with his damp, curly locks. Hunter chuckled, feeling the reverberation against your pussy before he pulled away momentarily.

“I told you, you're playing a dangerous game." Hunter's hands were now on your hips, holding you in place. "How many times do you think I can get you to cum on my tongue before the others return?” You didn’t have a chance to answer before Hunter dove back in, completely and utterly devouring you.

Your last thought before your mind went blank with pleasure was that you should steal his clothes more often.

A/N: Hunter does things to me. 🫡

#Hunter x reader #hunter x you #the bad batch #Hunter tbb #Hunter tbb x reader #tbb Hunter #the bad batch smut #starrycatwrites #sergeant Hunter #the bad batch fanfiction

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2chopsticks2eyes · 9 months

Note

Don't mind tho, just watched that skz code when they have to solve puzzles in a haunted school, and during hyunjin's turn to go alone, both han and minho go there to scare him . and i've been recently on my dark hours..

so my mind came up with a scenario where MC is in a haunted house with her friends, she's not a scary cat...unless she's alone there. that's when she's the most vulnerable.and minsung have the wonderful idea to put on some masks and play a game of cat-and-mouse with her inside the house, purposedly getting her lost and far from the group. they corner her in empty rooms, sneak behind her, come out of dark corners, but their favourite is definitely making her run while they chase her and she can't see them

the chase, her fear, the adrenaline of it, they enjoy it more than they should, making them consider if they perhaps have a predator kink they didn't know about.

i leave the rest up to you, my friend~

Oh Baby, How You Haunt Me So...

They feel alive when they see her cowered in the corner of the empty room, the sound effects of the haunted house drowning out the noise in the background.

Once they are satisfied that they have her trapped, they remove their masks to show off their predatory glares, eyes drinking in her body in pure carnal hunger.

You are surprised it's them, but you can't shake the feeling of self-preservation with those expressions they directed at you. "M-Minho? Jisung? Wha--"

"No." Minho cut you off. They both slowly narrowed in on you and you suddenly felt extremely small.

"Look how scared she is, poor baby." Jisung cooed condescendingly.

"What do you think we should do with her, jagi?" Minho said to his boyfriend, speaking as if you weren't even there.

Jisung grinned from ear to ear in a frightening display of pure threat. "What shouldn't we do with her?" He said with a voice an octave lower than usual and your core stirred.

"I-" You couldn't even get two words out before Jisung pulled you forward and was attacking your mouth viciously. You felt Minho circle around the back of you and immediately slipped his hand up your shirt and bra to roughly grope your breast while sloppily kissing and biting your neck.

You felt your panties quickly becoming useless as they soaked up your juices. You arched your back and wrapped your arms around Jisung before he began vehemently clawing your jeans off of you and throwing them in the corner. "Fuck, hyung, she's so fucking wet..." Jisung growled against your lips as he rubbed your clit over your soiled underwear.

You suddenly felt a hand between your legs from behind you and felt another finger rubbing your panties just over your entrance. You whined at the combined feeling and Minho twisted your nipple hard. "Be quiet or we will stuff your pretty throat." Minho hissed against your ear.

That was when they simultaneously slipped your panties to the side and ran their fingers through your folds, Jisung instantly going at your clit rapidly as Minho plunged two fingers in and began pumping in you. "Fuck yes!" You gasped and threw your head back at the delectable feeling.

You abruptly felt yourself being knocked to your knees as Jisung quickly pulled his rock-hard cock out of his pants and sat on the ground in front of you. You felt a hard body press against your backside and grab your jaw. "You were warned." Minho said as he turned your head to messily kiss you and then pushed you down to have Jisung gain purchase of your head.

"I have other uses for that mouth, darling." Jisung growled with a cocky grin. That was when you were being pulled down to wrap your lips around his fat cock.

When you started bobbing your head, you whined when you felt Minho rub the head of his throbbing dick through your folds before slamming himself against your cervix, causing you to gag on his cock.

While you were being pounded from behind and your head being forced to swallow dick, you had a thought.

This was NOT what I expected out of this haunted house but... you couldn't necessarily complain...

My bitches:

@lyramundana

@channieandhisgoonsquad

@sweetracha

@moonlightndaydreams

@noellllslut

#sorry it's not longer #I have a wip to work on #poly minsung

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goldielia · 23 days

Text

what if (all i need is you)?

a part of: call it what you want au

will’s in the locker room after practice when he thinks about it for the first time. they’re talking about cutter, how he’ll probably be signed after the championship game. where all the other boys will go, that they think they’ll be signed by the end of the next season or the one after that.

ally breezes through the hallway by the open door (they promise her to not keep it open while anyone is indecent and usually it’s closed until after they’ve been showered and are shirtless at most) and it spikes a thought. one he hadn’t even considered, used to being a couple steps ahead on the ice but keeping his mind in the present off of it.

he’ll leave boston. for san jose. probably before his college time would be over if he simply got his degree. he’s a fourth overall pick, there’s people waiting to see him on the ice for the sharks, people that would rather him score for their nhl team then have him finish college.

but leaving boston would mean leaving home. leaving ally. he doesn’t know if he simply pushed that thought to the back of his mind or if it hadn’t crossed his mind at all. the worst thing about it is that he doesn’t know when. maybe they had meetings about it, have decided to give him a call after the championship game if he wins, that they won’t if he doesn’t. or they still might, win or lose.

maybe he’ll be back in boston, snuggled up in their corner of the library with ally. maybe he’ll be in minnesota still, barely back in the hotel room after a devastating loss or raging celebrations. he has to look up the time zones, actually, maybe that wouldn’t even be possible. his mind is going there regardless, though.

in fact, his thoughts are running a mile an hour. what if-questions are kind of always on his mind, inevitable with hockey really. what if i’d realized his play a second earlier? what if i passed to my right instead of my left? what if i shot a fraction of a millisecond earlier, would the goalie still have saved it?

what if ally leaves him when he has to go to san jose? what if she dumps him the second he tells her? what if she doesn’t, tortures both of them with long distance for a few weeks before she breaks up with him over text? what if she agrees to it, loves him over miles and time zones and then falls in love with some other blond, blue-eyed hockey player in boston and forgets about will?

the what-ifs torture him, constantly and for days. he can’t quite bear talking to anyone about them, feeling stupid one second and like they’ll confirm his fears right after. gabe and ryan try to get through to him multiple times, cutter tries to talk to him as well. even eamon starts an attempt of a conversation. he blows all of them off.

the only person he might want to talk to is the one who doesn’t pressure him. there were multiple instances over the months they’ve been together when will got into his own head, about hockey, about school, pretty much anything. ally doesn’t urge him to talk, doesn’t try to solve problems for him unless he comes to her with them. she takes care of him, quietly, and just like she normally would, and waits him out until he’s ready to talk.

she’s making sure he eats, hydrates, secures his sleep by scratching his back or caressing his skin or burying her hand in his curls. massaging the sore spots after games and applying balms on bruises, kissing him when he plays well and holding him when he doesn’t and she knows he beats himself up for it.

ally just knows he wants to talk to her when she settles into his passenger seat one monday, somehow she feels it in her bones. his right hand may find its place on her thigh, like it always does, but he’s tapping his fingers down on it like he does when he’s nervous. it only stops when she slips her own hand into his, entangles their fingers and slowly drags her thumb over his knuckles.

after she presses a soft peck to his lips and another to his cheek she keeps her eyes trained on their hands, painting shapes and letters onto his skin and playing with the bracelets on his wrist. it’s become a habit, a thing, if you will. love letters and secret messages traced into skin, trails of conversations and silent reassurances traded wordlessly and blindly.

she uses just this to hopefully make will feel less anxious as they’re in the car, tells him i love yous and little hearts through her touch until they’re at his chosen destination. he parks the car at the rink on campus and she goes with him without protest, lets him lead her center ice and follows him when he lays down on it.

they stay there unmoving except for ally slipping her hand back into wills, breath leaving their mouths in small clouds as they’re staring up to the ceiling. ally’s glad to have chosen a hoodie when she left the house in the morning, thinks she might be able to better fight off the cold for as long as will needs. he squeezes her hand once before he starts speaking, a shaky breath before his voice sounds through the empty rink.

“i was drafted to san jose.” ally briefly closed her eyes, having feared this talk would come at some point. after taking a deep breath she squeezes wills hand, silently telling him to continue. “i don’t know when they’ll want me to sign with them but, like- i guess i just want you to know i won’t say no to them. if they do want me.” her green eyes shoot open, head turning to her left to find wills face. “what?” she sounds breathless, scrambling to sit up and turn his head towards her with the hand that’s not in his.

“you think i’d want you to stay here? instead of playing in the nhl?” before will can even nod or talk or do anything, really, she continues. “will, i wouldn’t hold you back. not from achieving your dreams.” her voice breaks slightly somewhere between hold and back and his body acts before his brain catches up when he sits up and wraps her up into his free arm. “that’s not what i’m saying, gorgeous.” he whispers, lips brushing her ear. “i just-, i might, probably, not be around for graduation. or maybe a year before that.”

ally pulls back slightly, leaning her forehead on his and squeezing his hand once more. “i know.” will keeps quiet for a second, the only thing there is to hear is their synchronised breathing. ally thinks they must be a poetic picture, really. center ice in an empty rink, barely enough lights on to find the way to the ice and back. two teenagers all tangled up, foreheads touching, a hand intertwined and wrapped up in the other, breathing in sync and thoughts racing.

“i just need to know how this- how we’ll work. if you’d be up to trying long distance or like, what your plans are.” will continues, his words somewhere between a whisper and a breath. “hey” she murmures gently. “ever thought about what happens if all i need is you?” his eyes shoot open in surprise, clearly having waited for rejection, to be let down gently.

“san jose has a school for criminology, they have a pretty good grad school program for criminal psychology.” she smiles softly at the way his eyes widen. “plus, i only have two more years here” her warm hand squeezes his once more before she breathes deeply, hiding her face into his shoulder after a moment, not only to mask her expression but also the tears forming in her eyes. after she feels a kiss pressed into her hair she lifts her head again.

“i thought you were going to tell me you had to break up with me because they signed you and you didn’t want me to hold you back” her voice is shaky like he’s never heard it and her words make him pull her into his arms fully, fingers detangling and wrapping around her waist instead. with her face pressed into the crook of his neck, he nuzzles his nose into her hair and kisses the top of her head before speaking hoarsely.

“i thought you were going to break up with me because you didn’t want to do long distance” he’s concerned when her shoulders start shaking, thinks she has to be crying but after a second he realizes she’s in fact giggling into his skin. will hesitates for a few more breaths before he, too, can’t hold back the laugh building in his chest, breathing all his anxieties out with it. “i love you, you know” she mumbles into his lips when she’s lifted her head before pressing a lingering kiss to them. “i do know, you looked up schools in san jose for me” he grins.

#alaska argent #goldie's call it what you want au #will smith hockey #will smith hockey imagine #will smith hockey x oc #will smith hockey x reader

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crossdressingdeath · 6 months

Text

Narrator: *For the first time in over a century, silence falls over the Bhaal Temple. No chants, no screams, no prayers.* Narrator: *In the end, your own death brought you more joy than any you wrought on this land. You are slipping into peaceful oblivion.* Narrator: *But your journey is not over.* Withers: Thou hast defied Bhaal, thy liege and father, and in doing so hast earned a place among champions and heroes. Withers: But, alas, thy courage was in opposition to the divine cosmology that bound thee to the Lord of Murder. Withers: Thou art now faithless - godless - and doomed to wander the Fugue Plane for eternity. Withers: I will not permit that, though all the powers of life and death dictate that it should be so. Withers: I, too, still hold some power, and I invest a portion of it in thee, who hath challenged the gods and now liveth to tell of it. Withers: Thy fight is not over, and it is thy fight, for one who can look upon Bhaal and oppose him can survive any crisis. Withers: So rise, Challenger of Gods, and prepare for battle once more. Death will not claim thee whilst I endure.

Not gonna lie: this sounds like whether or not Durge was immortal before, they sure as hell are now. I mean, "Death will not claim thee whilst I endure"? Sounds to me like they aren't going to be dying any time soon. Durge's relationship with death has been upgraded from "I'll have to ask my dad (he says no)" to "I'll have to ask my granddad (he says absolutely not under any circumstances)." Benefits (or curse) of coming from a family of death gods, I guess.

I love the imagery of a hush falling over the temple as all of this is happening. Like... based on Withers's dialogue this shouldn't be happening. Durge shouldn't be defying their father and Withers definitely shouldn't be bringing them back afterwards. From the moment Durge says no everything's gone off-script. It's also interesting that Withers says Durge defying Bhaal is in opposition to divine cosmology; keeping in mind I haven't played the first two games, I get the sense that while Bhaalspawn defying Bhaal isn't the norm it's not all that unheard of. There are two whole games about Bhaalspawn doing exactly that, actually. Then again Durge's situation is unique; possibly it's something like... as they were made from Bhaal's own gore Durge literally shouldn't be able to refuse him like that, which raises some fun questions about their life pre-amnesia. The suggestion that Durge kind of broke cosmology in defying Bhaal is very good and I'd love more details on that.

The suggestion that Durge is now entirely without a god to claim their soul on their death and will wander the Fugue Plane for eternity now that Bhaal doesn't want them is very interesting, considering that you can be a cleric and so bound to a god other than Bhaal (unless the dialogue is different under those circumstances). I guess Bhaal took priority as their father and maybe since Durge died as a direct result of him abandoning them no one else had the chance to stake a claim? But if this is just the way of things for them now and their soul can't be claimed by a god that's. not good. But then again I guess technically Jergal has it. It's fine! I really like him walking into this situation and saying "No, they don't deserve this and they're too important to this fight, I'm not letting them die like this (or at all)."

Based on what Bhaal says prior to this Durge dies less because he directly killed them and more because his divine essence was their life force, so when he ripped it out of them they had nothing to keep them going? So then what Withers is doing seems to be replacing that portion of Bhaal's divine essence with his own, giving Durge a new life force in the process (hence why they'll now endure as long as he does, since presumably if he dies that new life force will die with him). Durge may or may not thank him for that (that bit about Durge's death bringing them more joy than any they've caused hits hard, and even harder when you consider that the deaths they've caused include Ketheric and Orin and potentially include people who hurt their companions like Cazador, Gortash, Viconia...), but it seems like the divine equivalent of a heart transplant or something similar.

#bg3 #bg3 spoilers #bg3 withers #durge

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vylithscat · 1 year

Text

coming to meet your parents - obey me! hcs

trying to be a little more consistent with posts, so here's a couple thoughts that came to mind when discussing families with a friend! {also, don't mind any format changes, trying new things!}

prompt: you've got a visit with your parents coming up, but you're not sure who'd be a good choose to bring.. genre: general, you/your pronouns, gn!mc pairings: bros + dateables (minus luke)

You were visiting home soon, very soon actually, and your family wanted to meet these new brothers. After you said that you met them on an exchange program, they were all very sweet towards you.. And who knows what else you spurted out when rambling on and on about them. Your parents always gave you weird looks when you talked about how good they were, and you never realized when you talked about it until they cut in, “Are you sure they’re everything you say they are?”

With a pounding headache creeping up at the thought of all seven of them coming up with you and causing chaos in your parents home, you snapped your pencil lead and cursed under your breath before looking through your bag for your sharpener, only for a familiar hand to appear beside you with one in his palm.

“How’s my favorite student doing?”

“Oh, haha,” You dryly responded, your nose scrunching up at Solomon as you took his sharpener, “You only said that because I snapped my pencil, huh?”

“You were also staring rather intensely at your paper beforehand.” You let out a sigh and began explaining your situation to him, his face beamed and you couldn’t help but worry at the look of pure joy on his face as the two of you approached..

Lucifer

He didn’t like the idea when it came from Solomon

But then he saw your pleading eyes,, He can’t say no to you,,

When going up, he goes by Lucien around family

He doesn’t need to act any different really, but he doesn't exactly go with the flow, so..

But for the most part, you’re fine sending yourself up with Lucifer!

Don’t stumble over his name though, he might correct you incorrectly

Your parents will most likely enjoy your time with him

Well spoken, good manners, and looks put together when he first steps in the house

I mean, have you seen his outfit in the human world? C’mon..

Bring him along for some tea, lunch, really anything involving food and drink and a quick chat, he shouldn’t be a problem

Just be sure somebody will be able to check on his brothers while you’re gone

Mammon

He doesn’t like being called Mason

But if it’s you, he might give it a chance..

Don’t go out somewhere, he’ll somehow end up blowing his money and setting a bad first impression

Leave any money at home, seriously..

Away from gambling, he’s a great time!

Good humor, really chipper and generally a good man

Just don't let ANY bets get on the table no matter what, please..

Keep your time busy with eating and chatting

Follow it up by some board games or card games if you’re up for it

You could be up late at night, fucking around, and your parents would get a nice impression

As long as you keep bribes and bets out of the photo, you’re fine

Leviathan

Unlike everyone else, he didn’t need to go by anyone else, so slipping up wasn’t a worry!

But getting him to even come with you?.. Good luck

He’ll be practically begging you to think it over, invite someone else

Literally anything to get out of it.. He loves you, but not other normies

He’ll be beyond nervous meeting your parents

You don’t have much to worry about unless somebody brings up anime or TSL

Really quiet, nervous shuffles while you eat

Find a way to include games into the bonding, one that he could pick up as easily as any other game

Although he might get a little ramble-y in his explanations, it shows he’s very passionate!

Your parents most likely will find him sweet, a bit on the quiet side though

And, praise him afterwards.. That was a lot for his shut-in otaku self..

Satan

If you call him ‘Sully,’ even for a joke, he’s gonna lose it. So, Samuel it is! (please..)

He’s well spoken and usually doesn’t cause problems, unless he’s pissed, so really do anything

Best bet would most likely be a café, cat themed, maybe with books and actual cats

He’ll be in absolute BLISS

But save it for the end, especially if your parents like cats too, just to end it off on a high note

Will be fine with giving book recommendations to your parents

He can do most other things though, that’s just your best bet

Parents want to have a chat over some coffee? Sure, about what?

A dinner? Fine by him, he’ll try anything

As long as they don’t get under his skin too much, he won’t have a problem

And your parents didn’t have a problem either, they find him knowledgeable and friendly

And if they saw him with cats, they believe he’s more gentle when alone with you, so they're happy

Asmodeus

He finds his human name of Atlas to be very alluring

So he doesn’t mind, but you need to make it up to him

Fuck, good luck with him though..

He’s really bad at holding his tongue about you and anyone who’s attractive to him

Not to mention he’s an influencer, so he may care about photos before touching any food

And you can’t really take away an influencer’s phone..

But, if your mom enjoys makeup and nails, they’ll get along fine

And if you’re dad’s open minded, they’ll get along fine

It all depends on what your parents are like, really

For the most part it can go super well, or super bad!

Not saying to not to pick him, just,, know it’s a dice roll

Beelzebub

He didn’t understand the whole human name thing,,

Beel isn’t a bad name is it? Regardless he’ll go along with the Bryan thing

There’s no way your parents can hate this gentle giant

I imagine he looks terrifying but then he starts talking and you can’t feel anything but safe

Just be careful on the food wait and how much he eats, or he might get bad looks from your parents

But for the most part he’s a safe choice!

Big ol’ sweetheart, you can’t go wrong if you’re careful

If you’re ever nervous about how he might react to waiting, bring a few snacks

Just explain he’s a sports guy and maybe they’ll look past the absolute speed at which he eats

Overall, your parents will probably feel good about Beel

Just,, warn them if he’s coming, so they can cook some extras or cancel the outing plans,, please.

Belphegor

He was half asleep when you explained meeting your parents and the whole him being called Beau for the day..

He shrugged, “Okay.” Slept again.

When he realized how soon it was coming up..

He didn’t get enough sleep for him to stay awake really

Best to go to some sort of observatory with stars so he can point out anything he knows, either directly or indirectly to your parents

He is practically falling asleep on you though, so good luck

When he is asleep, just explain he’s been working hard and must’ve exhausted himself

Parents will be concerned, but understanding (hopefully)

When he is awake though, let him enjoy the stars and the silence

You may need a few more visits for your parents to form a proper opinion, though..

Diavolo

A chance to go to the human world and avoid his work!?

Sign him UP!.. Oh, a new name? Damien? Okay!

He’s gonna accidentally introduce himself of Diavolo, no matter what

Your parents are,, confused to say the least

I mean, you’re with a man who owns a HOTEL? Definitely hit high, kiddo..

Good news, you don’t have to worry about stumbling over things!

Bad news, Diavolo wants to experience so many new things in the human world that it may slip he wishes he had it back home

Even simple things, like certain fair foods,, like hot dogs.

It confuses your parents beyond belief but you can play it off that he was sheltered (I mean, he was..)

Overall, they have a fun time! Taking him to an amusement park was a great idea

They saw a great man who was willing to experience new things, aside from thrill rides..

Bring the man back, he really wants to experience that again :(

Barbatos

His duties should take priority, but Diavolo gave him permission to go for the day

With a cleared schedule and a carefully picked out outfit,, fuck does he make a good impression

But, he’s stiff and really wants to help out, especially with things like teas

To a point your parents are furrowing their brows at you

And you aren’t about to force Barbatos to not be a butler, it’s in his nature by now

Once he does sit, he doesn’t answer much about him

But he always smiles when he responses, is quick to refill drinks and checks on you often if you seemed stressed or tired

It’s a great impression, showing he deeply cares for you

And that he comes off as hardworking or at least caring for others

So, you really can’t lose unless your parents have problems with not knowing everything at once

Just,, know if you fall asleep at all, he may lightly tease you with your parents

Simeon

Seriously, how can you fail with bringing him?

When he found out from Solomon you needed a plus-one, he offers to join you if nobody else can

Accept on the spot or later, he’ll manage to bring something for your parents

Usually some food, like his sandwiches, or something Luke made with proper praise of the boy

Your parents do accidentally assume that Luke’s your son though..

Consider dismissing that before Simeon starts joking at having kids

Aside from the first-first impression, he’s overall very sweet

He can talk about anything for a good amount of time, and always has honeyed words about you

If your parents manage to bring up TSL, slip in that he wrote it

It’s good praise, albeit a bit embarrassing for Simeon

But if your parents enjoy the series, meeting the author would be nice!

They feel blessed to have him in your life,,

(Regardless if they know he’s an author or not)

Solomon

Yeah, this was his idea, but after all the trial and error..

You invited him instead of the demons, for your own sanity

His title carries some weight, so there’s no doubt he’s known by your parents

But you assure them he’s not as bad as the rumors say

Get used to him intentionally trying to embarrass your ass, because he will do it ALL the time

If you’ve told your parents about your training, he’ll non-stop praise you and your skills

If not, he’ll praise your general learning skill and how you’re a great listener

In any sense, you’ll be very embarrassed by the end

Your parents will give you many smiles and laughs about it too

He does say some stuff weird, and dances around personal questions, but that's about it

He’s not a bad choice at all, just a little odd for a human

Your parents will get a good impression of him and (hopefully) change their views about him

245 notes · View notes

hikikolol · 11 months

Text

*vity as your fwb*

ot9

idea from this piece (*slip up*) where in; nine of your friends take turns into pleasuring you -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

♡ park serim

he'd so be the type to call you up in the middle of the night when he's feeling a little stressed from all of the requirements given to him from his course

hard dom on days he's frustrated and soft dom on days he just wants to chill

calls you 'angel' 'babe' 'baby' with the occasional 'slut' 'cum bag' and 'cock sleeve'

dreams of the threesome you did with woobin that one time (it was the first time you squirted so much)

would literally invite you out to the gym just so he could fuck you right after

black lingerie sets him off bad

asks you to cockwarm him often when he works on his reqs

♡ ma allen

it's obvious that allen is a giver, your pleasure is his pleasure

insane fucking stroke game through and through

he calls you in once every blue moon, it's because he always waits for you to make the first move (he feels guilty that the other guys use you too much that he doesn't want to take your rest days and make it his own...unless you ask for it)

literally would make a list on his notes app on things he did that made you moan loudly so he could do it all in one go the next time you guys do it

such a SWEET FUCKING THING

one of the best aftercare fr

moan his name, it would make him lose his mind

♡ koo jungmo

would literally use his "black card" excuse to bed you when you're not in the mood

sugar daddy in the making fr

the one who started it all by asking you to suck on his dick one night when he was feeling horny and it was just the two of you in his room

you don't know why you said yes but it was mostly because his eyes were too mesmerizing

great at sex and you can't even deny it

highest sex drive amongst the rest, it surprised you the most when his stamina was so high even after three rounds (as if he doesn't almost die from running up four floors of stairs)

treats you out on dates after resting which is nice

it's the literal princess treatment

♡ seo woobin

the literal definition of soft dom

so caring before and after intercourse that you might've thought he was your actual boyfriend

sweet fucking words dripping like honey while he whispers them into your ears MY GOD

tries not to ruin you too much but can't help it on some days when he's feeling a little bit more

you still dream of the day when sweet ruby choked you while you were having sex, it was one of his rough days

he dines and he wines before he fills

makes you breakfast when you sleep over too, waffles became a staple

loses his fucking mind when he sees you in a skirt. he would literally go up behind you and starts grinding (this is when you guys are alone in the dorm, he's not big on exhibitionism)

♡ ham wonjin

it's a 50/50 with this dude, there are times where you're horny but his jokes turns you off immediatley, and there are times where his jokes made you completely wet

he's great with sloppy thrusts, those make you cum so much faster

he likes eating you out too

lingerie lover, would seriously not take them off whilst you fuck

high socks too? sign him the fuck up, he loves the visual of your flesh being so tight in long socks, it turns him on way too much

you had to remind him that periods were a thing at one point because he was trying so hard to eat you out but you kept pushing away

texts you at the ass crack of dawn to say he's at the door and to let him in so you can fuck (there are times when you left him out to go home, though)

literally goofy sex to passionate real quick

besties 5ver tho

♡ kang minhee

lazy sex? yeah, lazy sex

literally would be lounging around on his bed and you'd catch him stare at your tits until you give in and pull your shirt up yourself

can't deny this man of tits, could literally spend hours fucking them

wearing a low cut shirt will be the death of him (cue dragging you into his room for a quick fuck)

sleeping on his bed would most probably end up with sleepy sex as he grinds his hips onto you while you try to sleep

you can never say no to minhee, honestly, because once he uses that eye smile that lifts up his freckled cheeks oh you're done

aftercare consists of him wiping you down then throwing it at a random corner of his room to lay down with you...falling asleep right away (one time you had to put his brief and boxers on for him while he slept)

sugar daddy in the making

♡ song hyeongjun

an absolute switch, one day he likes being on top then the other he's a complete bottom

his whimpers makes you lose your mind, gets louder the nearer he is to cumming too

he texts you in the middle of the night to tell you that he touched himself to the thought of you, in a very shy cute way that had you running to his doorstep

drives you insane with his thrusts, insane stroke game pt. 2

high stamina = hours on end

skirt kink pt. 2

most fav position is when you ride him though, best position for switch me thinks. one minute, you control the speed and the next, he has you slightly lifted up so that he could ram himself into you (cue screams)

luvs luvs luvs when you call him 'puppy' but will never say that out loud

♡ kim taeyoung

has an ego taller that the tallest building fr

pretty chill but can totally be evil, he starts up most of the threesomes...

absolutely gets a kick at seeing you fucked out, and maybe being fucked by someone else while he's in the room

flirts nonstop to get your attention

something you found cute though is when he kind of gets shy after cumming, the shy smile that creeps up to his face when he reaches out for something to wipe you with looks so ethreal

loves to look at you while he fucks, it's either staring at your fucked out face or his point of view when his cock disappears into your cunt, he feels like it's straight out of a porn video

after all that shy shenanigans though, he never fails to pull up his digi cam to take a picture of you being a mess (all with consent of course)

♡ ahn seongmin

the first time you had sex, you were expecting him to learn quickly but you never expected him to make you moan so loud

seriously has the most sub energy but is surprisingly a switch, you loved it when he put your legs up to ram into you (made you cum embarrassingly fast)

tries not to overthink too much when he's pleasuring you so that he could enjoy it himself, forgets that thought the moment you moan out his name though

he knows the a to z of aftercare, went as far as to put on a face mask and pampered you all night

likes to do it in private, meaning, if there are other people in the dorm, you can forget about it

would like to learn how to eat you out next

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- surprise!! came earlier than expected lmaoo i had way too much motivation to write today so here you goo hihihi hope you guys enjoy reading this as much as i enjoyed writing it <33

#cravity smut #serim smut #allen smut #jungmo smut #woobin smut #wonjin smut #minhee smut #hyeongjun smut #taeyoung smut #seongmin smut #cravity hard hours #hikikolol-vityy

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hbyrde36 · 9 months

Text

Life is a Game (and True Love is a Trophy)

Chapter 6

Ch 1 Ch 2 Ch 3 Ch 4 Ch 5 ao3 link

*Eddie*

Eddie had finally lost his mind.

He was hallucinating.

He’d gone right off the deep end and into the frigid waters of lake lunacy.

He blinked hard, but the figure refused to disappear.

“Harrington? Is that really you?” Eddie blurted out in disbelief.

“Eddie, please. I need your help”

Holy. Shit.

It really was him. Steve Harrington was there, in the flesh, not 5 feet in front of him, and Eddie, well, in all honesty he could have used a minute to cope with that information, but the girl Steve was carrying looked like she was in bad shape. His freak-out would have to wait. Harrington himself wasn’t looking too great either, actually, and the baseball bat he held had some really suspicious looking stains on it. Which, what the fuck?

Eddie did his best to shake off his shock and took a tentative step towards the other boy and his companion. He wasn’t sure what to say, but this didn’t seem to be the time for stupid questions like, ‘are you okay?’, when the answer was so devastatingly obvious.

“My van is about a mile that way. I could give you a ride somewhere?” Eddie offered, awkwardly pointing back in the direction of the road.

Steve’s eyes searched his, and Eddie had to work hard not to squirm under the attention. Finally he nodded and softly said, “Thank you.”

They didn’t make it more than a few steps before it became obvious that Steve was struggling. He was breathing heavily and his arms trembled with the effort to keep hold of the mystery girl.

Eddie slowed to a stop, eyeing the two of them with concern. “I could carry her for a bit. Give you a rest?”

“I’m fine.” Steve’s response was instant, automatic.

He very much was not fine, and they both knew it. Eddie wasn’t sure if it was a pride thing or if the other boy didn’t trust him, but he had to do something before he had two unconscious people on his hands. Clearly, Steve had been through some serious shit, so Eddie wasn’t sure how hard he could push, but he was nothing if not honest.

“You look dead on your feet, man.” Eddie winced at his own poor choice of words, but pushed on. “Just let me help. I won't drop her.”

Steve’s face crumpled, and he chewed on his bottom lip. Eddie was relieved when he nodded once again, carefully transferring the girl into his waiting arms.

One look at her face confirmed Eddie’s suspicions. This was definitely the same girl from the polaroid, though she was older now and covered in streaks of dried blood. He adjusted his grip and started walking again. She was a bit heavier than he expected, but he was pretty sure he could manage to get them to the road. He’d be damned if he dropped her now after assuring Steve she’d be safe with him.

They moved through the trees in a strained silence, the weight of a million unasked questions hanging in the air between them. Eddie didn’t know where to start, or if Steve would even want to talk about it, so for now he just concentrated on getting the three of them safely to his car. He’d worry about the rest later.

Though he tried not to, Eddie’s eyes kept flicking down to the young girl’s face. He was hit again with the feeling that she looked familiar somehow, of course, he had been staring at that damn photo for days. That had to be it.

“Who is she?” Eddie hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the question slipped past his lips without permission.

“My sister.”

He knew Steve didn’t have any siblings, unless this was some long lost relative he had discovered. Eddie chanced a sideways glance at the other boy. “Didn’t know you had a sister, Harrington.”

Steve shrugged. “I do now.”

When they finally reached the pull off, Steve became visibly more tense, tightening his grip on the bat he held at his side. He kept looking up and down the road, which was, thankfully, deserted this time of day. Eddie wasn’t sure what would have happened if another car drove past them right then.

He opened the rear door of the van and gently set the girl down on a cushion he kept back there. Only after Eddie climbed into the driver’s seat did Steve end his vigil and join them in the vehicle.

The moment they were all inside with the doors locked, Steve hung his head and drew his knees to his chest, huddling in the seat. Eddie started the engine but didn’t pull onto the road yet. He took the opportunity to really look at the other boy and assess the state of him.

His hair was long. Far longer than he had ever worn it at school. With his legs drawn up, Eddie suddenly noticed that Steve and the girl were wearing almost exactly the same clothes. Nondescript gray sweatpants with a matching sweatshirt for her, a plain white t-shirt for him. The shirt had some dried blood on it that had probably come from the girl, but Steve’s arms were covered in scratches and some blood of his own. They both wore only thick socks on their feet.

Eddie’s breath stuttered. Steve had been walking through the woods, for god knew how long, without shoes, all while carrying another person. Where did they come from? How had they made it?

Steve's shoulders began to shake and Eddie realized he was crying. He didn't know what to do. He wasn’t sure if he was allowed to comfort him, or if it would be better to pretend he didn't notice. Some people were weird about that stuff. Steve didn’t make him agonize over the decision for long. He looked up, meeting Eddie’s eyes with his own that were red and damp.

Eddie reached out a hand and cautiously placed it on Steve’s arm, rubbing lightly with his thumb. “What happened to you?”

Steve choked on a wet laugh. “It’s a really long story.”

“I’ve got time, unless you have somewhere you need to be?” Eddie tried for casual. A hint of tease just to ease some of the tension, but it fell a little flat. Steve’s mouth turned up at the corner for a brief second, and he thought maybe the other boy appreciated his effort anyway.

“No.” He replied after a long moment. Eddie hadn’t known it was possible for one word to contain that much sadness.

Steve turned away to stare out the windshield as he spoke on. “I..we have nowhere to go, actually. I can’t take her back to my house. They’ll find us.”

It wasn’t as surprising to hear as maybe it should have been, but the fact of the matter was, Steve had been gone for a long time, only to return bloody and battered. It wasn’t difficult to believe there was someone after him.

“Who will find you?” Eddie asked.

Steve whipped his head back around, eyes wide with something akin to panic. “I can’t…”

Eddie quickly pulled his hand back. “Shit, I'm sorry. I shouldn’t have asked.”

“No, It’s okay.” Steve rushed out, grabbing hold of the hand Eddie had just taken away. He inclined his head towards the back of the car where the girl slept. “it's just that, it's not only my story to tell.” Eddie smiled and squeezed the hand he was holding. He understood.

“I could bring you both back to the trailer park with me. No one would think to look for you there. You’d be safe.”

“Really? You would do that?”

“Yea, of course.”

What Eddie didn’t say, because it would make him sound crazy, was that he was more than happy to offer up his home since he had no intention of letting Steve out of his sight now that he’d been found. Not if he could help it.

Now that they had a destination, he put the van in gear and finally took to the road. The quiet stretched tight between them again, but this time Eddie didn't dare to be the one to break it. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to speak without it turning into more questions that he had no right to ask.

A few minutes into the drive, Steve spoke up. “I'll talk to her when she wakes up. If she’s okay with it, I’ll tell you everything.”

“You don’t have to.” Eddie insisted. He meant it too. Of course he wanted to know, but he had already decided that he would do anything he could for Steve whether he told him what was going on or not.

“I want to,” Steve quietly confessed, causing Eddie’s stomach to do some embarrassing acrobatics.

“I was so relieved when I realized it was you out there.” Steve continued, shaking his head at himself. “I know that probably sounds weird, it's not like we were really friends before but I just.. I remember how you were at school. How you used to look out for people who needed it, and I had a feeling that I could trust you.”

Eddie kept his eyes on the road, but it was an effort. He swallowed hard.

“You can.” Eddie breathed. “I promise, you can.”

It was a promise to Steve as much as to himself. Eddie would not fuck this up, he would not let him down.

It wasn't much longer before they arrived back at the trailer, but still Steve had fallen asleep against the window at some point. He must be exhausted. Eddie would have loved to let him rest, but if someone was really after these two, he needed to get them inside as soon as possible.

Eddie gently shook Steve's shoulder. “Hey, we’re here.”

Steve woke with a start and was instantly on alert and looking for threats. Eddie held his hands up in front of him, palms out, and waited. He saw the change in the other boy’s eyes when he remembered where he was, and who he was with. He peered over the seat, presumably to check on the girl and finally relaxed.

He looked back at Eddie, blushing slightly. “Sorry.”

Eddie smiled, waving the apology off. “Before we go inside I wanted to tell you something. I live with my uncle. He works nights, so no one else is home for now, but he’ll be back in the morning.”

Right away Steve looked nervous.

“You can trust him. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn't think it was safe.” Eddie assured him, pouring every ounce of sincerity into the words that he could muster, terrified that Steve would run away.

“Ok. I believe you.”

Eddie handed Steve his house keys before getting out. At any other time he would have been worried about being seen, but It was fully dark by then and the street light closest to the Munson trailer had been out for years. It was the first time he’d ever been grateful for the Township’s neglect. He did not need nosy neighbors wondering why he was pulling an unconscious girl out of the back of his van.

Once inside, he carried her straight through the house to his room and set her down on the bed. Steve hadn’t followed, which seemed odd with how protective he was over her, so Eddie quickly returned to the living room, once she was settled, to check on him.

Steve was standing in the middle of the room, expression unreadable as his eyes wandered slowly over the collection of mugs that lined the wall before moving on to Wayne’s hats. Their place wasn’t exactly messy, but it was definitely lived-in, as his uncle liked to call it.

Eddie cleared his throat, trying to subtly get Steve's attention. It worked, though he suspected he startled the other boy again. He’d have to be more careful about sudden noises and stuff.

The baseball bat was still held loosely in Steve’s hands, and he looked unsure of what to do with it. Eddie held out a hand and Steve wordlessly gave it over.

It was a simple gesture, but to Eddie it felt huge. Steve was in a strange place, the home of someone he barely knew and he had just given away his only form of protection. It spoke of a trust he didn’t quite feel like he’d earned yet, but Eddie vowed he would prove himself worthy of. He made sure Steve saw where he put it, propped up against a coat rack by the front door.

“Where’s my sister?”

“I put her in my room, it’s down the hall on the right if you want to see.”

“She had a lot of…” Steve trailed off, gesturing to his own face. “Do you have something I could clean her up with?”

“Sure. Go see her, I'll bring it in.”

Moments later, Eddie entered his room to find Steve sitting on the side of his bed. The sight short-circuited his brain for a second, but one glance at the girl’s bloodied face was all it took to bring him back to the present.

He set a bowl of warm water and a few clean hand towels down on the nightstand and watched as Steve worked. He took his time wetting the cloth and gently scrubbing the mess from her face. It took a little while and the water was a nice shade of pink by the time he was done, but at least she was clean.

Steve smiled down at the girl and kissed her forehead before rising from the bed.

“Would it be too much to ask for a shower?”

“Not at all. Bathroom is across the hall. There's towels in the cabinet and I'll find you some clothes and leave them outside the door.”

Eddie was glad he’d bitten the bullet and finally done some laundry the other day, so that he had something clean to offer. He found a pair of sweatpants, sans holes, and his favorite shirt. It was an old, faded, but extremely comfy iron maiden t-shirt. He wasn’t sure what the etiquette was for sharing underwear with your straight male acquaintance, but he added a pair of boxers along with socks to the pile. Steve could decide for himself if he wanted to wear them or go commando.

*Steve*

It was when he was finally alone, hidden behind a locked door, and sitting on the floor of Eddie’s shower with scalding hot water raining down on him, that Steve finally broke down. He’d let a little of it out earlier in the van, something he felt terrible about, honestly. Eddie was already doing so much for them, Steve didn’t need to subject the guy to his hysterics.

He heaved great big sobs that made his chest ache and his stomach clench. He was feeling so many things at once that it was overwhelming. He mourned the life he lost that day in the diner when Brenner found them, something he had never done at the lab, because he would die before letting that man think for even a second that he’d broken him. At the same time he felt relief that the two of them had finally escaped, even if that feeling came tinged with shame for not having managed it sooner.

He and El had been through so much in those years of confinement, and he couldn’t help but blame himself for it just a little. He felt like a failure. They were free now, but his plan had never stretched beyond the simple goal of getting out. They had no home, and he had no means to take care of Eleven. They were effectively on the run and not just from the lab. Henry, One, had found her, and Steve was absolutely certain they hadn’t seen the last of him.

The water turned cool, and he knew he was taking too long, but he had to get himself under some kind of control before facing Eddie again. He took several deep steadying breaths and stood up, quickly washing himself before finally getting out.

Steve never thought he’d be so happy to see a simple pair of black pants and a t-shirt, but the prospect of wearing something other than stiff gray sweats that were at least a size too small, was enough to pull a weak smile out of him. The clothes were soft and smelled faintly of smoke, but he didn’t mind, it was better than the chemical odor of the industrial cleaners that he was used to. They also smelled of Eddie, and that was comforting for reasons he didn’t have the capacity to think about just yet. He wrapped himself in the borrowed items, boxers and all, and bravely pushed the door open to face whatever came next.

He felt shy suddenly, shuffling around the unfamiliar house. After looking in on El one more time, he found Eddie working in the kitchen, putting together what looked like a mountain of peanut butter and jelly sandwiches.

“You hungry? I know I am, so I just assumed you…” Eddie trailed off when he finally looked up and saw him. He stared wide eyed, and for long enough that Steve started to feel self conscious. He must look worse than he thought. He nervously ran fingers through his hair to try and straighten it.

The movement seemed to wake Eddie up from whatever trance he’d been in and he returned to his task with his head bowed. Steve thought he might have been blushing but couldn’t imagine why.

They took the food over to the couch and together devoured the entire plate within minutes. Steve hadn’t eaten since the day before and couldn’t remember the last time he’d had peanut butter. It was honestly the best thing he’d had in years. He stopped short of telling Eddie that, afraid of giving anything away for now. Though he did thank him profusely.

“I know you want to wait and check with your sister before you talk about stuff, and I fully respect that, but, um, is there anything you can tell me about the last two years? Where you’ve been, or what you’ve been doing?”

Steve considered what would be safe and easy to share, and didn’t come up with much. “Protecting her, mostly. I’m sorry, I feel like such a dick for not explaining anything when you’re trying to help.”

“It’s okay. Does she have a name? It would be nice to have something to call her instead of, her, or the girl ”

Steve grimaced and shook his head. He couldn’t even tell him that without it raising even more questions. “I’m sorry”

Eddie raised his eyebrows, probably wondering what the big deal was about a stupid name, but he accepted the lack of an answer without complaint.

“What do people think happened to me?” Steve asked. At least that was something they could talk about.

Eddie hesitated

“You can tell me. Whatever it is, I promise you it can’t be worse than the truth.”

“The school reported you missing when you didn’t come back after spring break in ‘84. As far as I know, Hopper started an investigation but some government guys came in and took over. Honestly, man, I'm sorry, but a lot of people assume you’re dead.”

Well, that was something.

“Um, do you know anything about my parents?” Steve asked, but quickly backpedaled, realizing it was stupid. “Nevermind, sorry, I wouldn't expect you to know.”

“Well…”

“What is it?”

Eddie looked a little uncomfortable but could tell Steve was desperate for any information. “Your house is for sale. I don’t think they’ve been back to Hawkins since you, y’know. I’m really sorry.”

Steve snorted. “Don’t be. I’m not surprised. They were never around before, so there was no reason to hope anything would be different now. I think they were just waiting until I was done with High School to cut me off completely. Probably thought they got a lucky break when I disappeared.”

Tears pricked at the corner of his eyes but Steve blinked them away. He’d cried enough for today, and his parents just weren’t worth it.

Eddie touched his arm lightly, setting his skin alight with goosebumps. “Hey, if that’s true, then they are even bigger pieces of shit than I thought. Seriously, fuck them.”

He must have decided that was enough talking for now, and turned away to switch the tv on low, leaving them each to their own thoughts. Steve was grateful. His eyelids were heavy and his brain felt like mush after the long day.

From one blink to the next the tv had changed from an old rerun of The Twilight Zone, to the evening news, and Steve realized he must have dozed off.

“You should go lay down in my room if you’re tired.” Eddie said quietly. “I’m okay out here on the couch.”

To further prove his point, he reached back and tugged a fluffy quilt off the back of the sofa and wrapped it around himself. It covered him from ankle to chin. Steve smiled at the boy’s head full of dark curls sticking up through the slightly fuzzy mound of pink yarn. He felt bad for kicking the guy out of his own bed, but El was already in there anyway, so he supposed it wouldn’t really change anything if he refused. He felt Eddie's eyes on him as he got up to leave, and for some reason it made him shiver.

The room was unlike anything Steve had ever seen. He hadn’t really looked around much when he was in there before, too focused on El, but everything about the space screamed, Eddie.

The walls were covered in all manner of things. Posters, drawings, and a sheet spray painted with the words, Corroded Coffin, covered almost the entirety of one side of the room. There was even a guitar mounted up high in front of a mirror. Stacks of books and cassettes littered every available surface, save for one table by the window that housed an overflowing ashtray. Steve loved it. His own bedroom had about as much personality as a brick wall, and he much preferred Eddie’s in-your-face style.

He slid into the bed next to El, and whether it was the exhaustion or the comfort of having her so close, he was out cold within minutes.

Steve woke up sweaty and gasping for air. It didn’t happen too often, but sometimes he would have nightmares about the night he fought the dogs. Only once did he dream about the other presence in his mind, the thing Owens had removed from him with heat. In his dream the plan hadn’t worked. He had been forced to witness everything while trapped inside his own mind as his body went on a rampage through the lab, killing indiscriminately. It took him days to get over that one, it had left him with the feeling of being watched. A prickle on the back of his neck.

He rolled out of the bed, careful not to disturb Eleven. As much as he wanted her awake, he knew she needed her rest after using so much of her powers. He could wait until she got up on her own.

Something caught Steve’s eye as he crossed the room to the door. A drawing he hadn’t noticed earlier that hung over the desk. He thought it was a flower at first but as he got closer…

Steve's knees went weak and he heard a loud whooshing sound in his ears as he stared at it. It couldn’t be what it looked like. Could it?

He tore the piece of paper right off the wall and ran out to the living room, not even bothering to close the bedroom door behind him. Eddie was on the couch, still awake,or awake again, Steve wasn’t sure. He didn’t know what time it was. Either way, the other boy looked more than a little shocked to see Steve rushing up to him.

“What’s wrong?” Eddie threw the blanket off and sat up.

“What is this? Why do you have this?” Steve all but shoved the slip of paper in Eddie’s face. He knew he was being intense, could see it in the way Eddie’s eyes went wide at his tone, but he had to know if these things had gotten out of the lab. If that was the case, their problems were even worse than he thought.

“Will drew it. Will Byers? I don’t know if you would know him. Um, it’s a monster from our D&D game.” Eddie spoke slowly, carefully, like you might do with a child or someone less than stable.

“A game?” Steve pressed. His heart was still pounding but he was starting to get the feeling that maybe he was overreacting a little. It was just too big of a coincidence to let go.

“Yea, Dungeons and Dragons.”

That sounded familiar. Steve took a deep breath and tried to force himself to relax. “That’s the, uh, dice game, right? Nancy’s little brother used to play that I think.”

“He still does, Mike is part of our group too.” Eddie still looked a little on edge but at least he was no longer talking to Steve in that cautious way.

“Since when do you hang out with middle schoolers?” Steve was genuinely curious, but he was also trying very hard to act normal. It was likely too little too late to distract from the way he’d come out of the room in a panic over a picture made with crayon, but he tried. None of this game stuff explained how this kid, or Eddie for that matter, knew what the dog creatures looked like, but, one step at a time. God, he needed El.

Blessedly, Eddie took his lead and ran with it, continuing on as if they were having a normal-ish conversation. “They’re my cousin Dustin's friends, or at least that’s how it started. They’re all in high school now though.”

“Oh. Right.”

Right, two years. Steve missed graduation. Hell, he’d missed senior year.

“God, I guess I really am friends with a bunch of baby teenagers now. How will I ever recover my tarnished reputation?”

Steve laughed and it felt so good. He couldn’t believe how easy Eddie was to be around. He liked that the other boy still tried to joke with him, even in their odd circumstances. It made him feel like a person again.

“So this monster, what do you call it?”

Eddie tapped the paper. “That one’s a demodog. It’s not an official D&D monster, it’s more of a homemade thing me and the kids came up with. There’s also the demogorgon, which is a lot like the dog except it stands on two feet and is like 9 feet tall.” Eddie got more animated and excited the longer he went on, but the more Steve heard, the tighter his chest got. ”Then there’s the mind flayer, big black smoke fucker that looks like a giant spider, and most recently this really wicked dude called Vecna.”

Steve gulped. He tried to hide it behind a smile but Eddie narrowed his eyes. He definitely knew something was wrong.

“Steve?” A soft voice called from the hallway, causing both of the boys to jump in surprise.

“Hey, sweetie. How do you feel?” Steve asked, rushing to her side and crushing her against his chest in a tight hug.

“I’m ok. Where are we?”

He guided her over closer to the couch. He wasn’t sure how she would feel about strangers, so he was a little nervous. “That's Eddie, this is his house.”

“He’s Your Eddie?” She gasped, looking up at Steve with a big smile.

Previous panic forgotten for a moment, Steve felt his face heat up and he knew he must be bright red all over. He turned to Eddie and ducked his head, embarrassed. “Sorry, she just means, um, I might have mentioned you before, is all. Stories about school and stuff.”

“I’m flattered to have made the cut, Harrington.” Eddie grinned.

El finally looked at Eddie, moving closer to study his face. Steve could see the other boy stiffen and he sympathized. He remembered being under that same scrutiny once, in the woods, under the rain.

For some reason she reached out for Eddie’s hair. Steve was about to tell her to stop, but Eddie waved a hand to keep him quiet, apparently not minding. She pushed the bangs back from his face and stared into his eyes, all the while Eddie held perfectly still. He smirked a little, amused at the girl’s antics, Steve supposed.

“Are you..?” She started to ask a question but abruptly dropped Eddie’s hair in favor of grabbing his hands and turning them over. She looked from one wrist to the other, brow furrowed.

That's when it clicked for Steve. What she was doing, what she thought Eddie was.

“Honey, he’s not. It’s not possible. I don’t think…”

“No, come look.” She said.

Reluctantly, Steve peered over her shoulder, first offering Eddie a sympathetic smile in place of an apology. He just looked back and forth at them in confusion, and Steve knew they would have to start explaining some things, and soon.

“He has a scar right here.”

Steve's mouth dropped open. Sure enough, Eddie had a deep, but long healed scar in the same spot on his wrist where a number tattoo would have been, if he was indeed like El.

The front door of the trailer squeaked loudly as it opened suddenly, startling all of them and causing Steve to jolt, further damaging his already frayed nerves. On instinct, he stepped protectively in front of both El and Eddie to face the intruder.

A gruff older man stood in the doorway. He wore a trucker hat similar to those that decorated the trailer’s wall and there was a set of keys still dangling from his fingers. Oh, Eddie lived with his uncle, right.

The man blinked up at Steve, a hint of recognition in his eyes. “What’s going on here, Ed?”

Steve backed up and flopped down hard on the couch next to Eddie, willing his heart to get the memo that there was no imminent danger here.

Eddie looked from him, to El, then back up at his Uncle. “Honestly, Wayne? I have no fucking idea.”

Chapter 7

@penny00dreadful @buckleybarnes @steddie-there @yeahhhh-suga @goinsteddie @brbsoulnomming @the-s-is-silent @paintsplatteredandimperfect @estrellami-1 @herebedragons404 @epiclazershark @iaminmultiplefandoms @adaed5 @mentallyundone @hardboiledleggs @hotshot9 @manda-panda-monium @ellietheasexylibrarian @stxrcrossed186 @sofadofax @5ammi90 @meccaminayah @bestwifehaver

#steddie fanfic #canon is just a crazy game of d&d #sort of #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #life is a game #steve harrington/eddie munson #eddie munson and dustin henderson are cousins #steve harrington and eleven taking care of eachother #steve and el sibling supremacy #ao3 link

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