#he can’t trust himself or his judgement now and if he can’t do that he can’t function as a leader

[harryslittlefreakk]

drunk in love

a late night talking extra 💓

summary: harry invites y/n to a party celebrating his upcoming final LOT show

warnings: very light smut (pretty much just touchy feely, male masturbation), alcohol use

wordcount: 4.1k

a/n: i want this to be me ? if i could have any harry, i want this one 😭 can’t believe it’s nearly a month since i last posted!!! sorry!!

you can find my masterlist here! happy reading 🫶🏼💖

“Harry, seriously!” You were swatting his hands away for what felt like the thousandth time that evening.

“Please. Missed you,” he pouted, opting to wrap his arms around your waist instead.

“I know baby, missed you too. But walking into the party late and together is hardly keeping it on the down low.”

It was Harry’s idea to keep it quiet tonight, for you to be by his side as a friend of Gemma’s and nothing more. His nearest and dearest had flown to Italy to celebrate the end of Love on Tour, and while he knew he could trust the majority of the guests, there were sure to be people who’d sell photos for a quick buck. You were happy to keep your privacy a little longer, but truthfully, you were itching to shout from the rooftops. It had only been a month since you’d met Harry, and you hadn’t even seen him for 3 weeks of that month. But it was the best month of your life.

“Don’t wanna keep it on the down low,” he groaned, throwing his head down into the crook of your neck. “You do, and you’ll thank yourself for it.”

His green eyes were peeking at you through the mirror, hungry and desperate for more of you. If it were any other occasion you’d be straight into bed with him, but you wanted so badly to make a good impression tonight. You were lucky to have Anne and Gemma on your side already, the pair of them taking to you so well that Harry even ended up setting up a group chat for the four of you to keep in touch while he was away. A mother’s judgement was quick and usually correct, and Harry had made it explicitly clear to you that she totally adored you. You were normal, she said. But still, meeting the remainder of Harry’s closest business partners, friends and family was downright terrifying to you.

“Would help with your nerves.”

“Harry, we have to be there in half an hour. You’re not even dressed.”

“Don’t have to get dressed if I’m jus’ going to get undressed.”

“Go next door and get dressed. Or let go of me so I can,” you laughed, turning around to press a kiss to his forehead.

He trailed away silently, feet scuffing on the carpet before he threw himself down on the bed. Always one for the dramatics. “At least let me see what you’re wearing before I go.”

You padded across the hotel room, pulling a metallic gold maxi dress from the wardrobe. You’d worried it would be too much, far too attention grabbing at a party where you wanted to stay out of the spotlight. But Gemma and Joanie had convinced you, and now that you held it up towards the window, you could finally see their vision.

The slowly setting sun was beautiful, gold and pink tones washing across the sky. You’d never been to Italy before, and suddenly it was your favourite place to be. The Mediterranean was good to Harry, the tan he’d picked up since you saw him last now rich and deep. He was glowing so brightly that you swore he could literally illuminate a dark room. Even the tiny beads of sweat on his chest sparkled like diamonds. He was delicious, and yet you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him for too long. The way his eyes were fixed on you, likely imagining himself doing filthy things to you in that dress, made you weak at the knees. You had, what, 5 or so minutes until Gemma came to collect you? Plenty could be done in that time. But as soon as the idea popped into your head, Gemma’s voice came from the other side of the door.

“Get out Harry,” she called. He groaned as he heard her, running a frustrated hand through his messy curls. “You’ll look beautiful, always do,” Harry told you, pressing a kiss on your lips as he moped over to the door. He said a quick hello to Gemma before leaving, knowing that if he lingered around you for any longer, he’d never make it to his own celebration.

“What’s up with him?” Gemma laughed, pointing behind her as the heavy door swung shut. “Needy,” you told her, amusement tugging at the corners of your mouth. “I told you he still throws a tantrum! You think he’s all grown up on the surface, but there’s a stroppy little boy in there still.”

You pulled her in for a hug, grateful to have her by your side. “I’m really nervous,” you confessed, sinking down onto the edge of the bed. “I don’t know who Harry’s told what to, don’t want to slip up and ruin it for either of us.” You pulled your bottom lip into your mouth, the weight of your nerves finally crashing down on you. You hadn’t wanted to show Harry how anxious you were, knowing that he’d never leave your side if he knew.

“You poor thing,” Gemma smiled, placing a protective hand on your arm as she joined you on the soft bed. “I’ll be by your side as long as you want me to be. Some of Mum’s friends are coming too, so if you need a break from the crazy, they’ll be happy to look after you. Proper British mums.”

—

The venue was potentially one of the most beautiful places you’d ever seen. A rooftop bar with floor to ceiling windows leading out onto a patio, the evening sun casting a warm orange glow over every inch of the crowded room. You didn’t think you could ever get over the views from this high up, even stores and corner shops looked beautiful. In the few hours since you’d arrived in Italy, it had totally captured your heart. You could see why Harry chose here for his final show.

“Ready?” Gemma asked, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“Ready,” you smiled, taking a deep breath as you followed her through the double doors.

There were so many people you recognised, some people you didn’t, and it was genuinely like walking into a weird fantasy. A month ago you were getting ready to see your favourite artist perform, now you were walking into a room of celebrities with his sister by your side. It didn’t matter how many times you went through it in your head, how many times you looked through your pictures with Harry, it never felt real.

Gemma took you to meet some of the band first, Sarah, Mitch and Pauli all huddled around a high table. They greeted Gemma warmly, but when Sarah’s eyes landed on you, she threw her arms around you with almost enough enthusiasm to knock you off your feet. “Y/n! You look incredible,” she grinned, squeezing you tightly. “She’s had one too many already,” Mitch muttered, nodding a gentle hello.

You stayed with them as Gemma went to get you both a drink, listening to their stories of touring and performing in different cities around the world, each tale filled with laughter and joy. Speaking to people who had known Harry on a deeper level for so many years made your heart soar, the same tenderness and care he showed you evident in the way his band mates spoke of him. Just as your eyes began to wander across the room to find him, Gemma returned with two glasses of Prosecco, handing one to you with a warm smile. “Got to keep moving, but we’ll be back,” she told the group, guiding you to some more of Harry��s friends.

—

From the other end of the bar, Harry’s eyes were fixed on you. He took a sip of his drink, his gaze never wavering as he watched you laugh with Sarah and Glenne. The way your eyes sparkled as you giggled, the tiny snorts that slipped out when something was truly funny. He was totally captivated by you. Harry couldn’t help but feel an overwhelming protectiveness, so desperately wishing he could’ve been the one to introduce you to his loved ones. He’d watched as you and Gemma made the rounds, shaking hands and exchanging hugs with his friends and colleagues. You’d mesmerised every single one of them, effortlessly commanding attention as if tonight was for you. He’d had no doubts about them liking you, seeing in you what he did, but there was still a little bit of pride bubbling away inside of him. You were his girl, and you were fitting into his life so perfectly. He may have been a little tipsy, his emotions a little heightened, but right there he realised he couldn’t imagine a life without you.

He started to make his way towards you, silently joining your group with a dorky grin plastered on his face. Your brows furrowed as you looked over at him, rocking on his heels slowly as he stared between the three of you. Sarah and Glenne could only laugh, taking his appearance as their cue to leave.

“Do I have something on my face?” you smirked once you were alone with Harry.

“Little bit of sexy right.. there,” he grinned, reaching out slowly to poke at your cheek. His playful grin widened as he leaned in closer, a tiny chuckle slipping past his lips. "Gonna need to wipe that off," Harry teased, his warm breath brushing over your skin.

“Is that so?”

“Absolutely. Can’t risk anyone else seeing that.” His finger lingered on your skin for a moment, tracing light patterns before he pulled away, replacing his gentle touch with soft kisses.

“Harry!” you scolded, trying to pull away from him before anyone noticed.

“No one’s looking,” he murmured against your skin, wrapping an arm around your waist and tugging you closer. His lips wrapped around your earlobe, his teeth grazing the skin as he sucked tenderly.

“Let’s leave, come home with me,” Harry groaned, his voice husky. His hand was splayed against the curve of your ass, his bulge starting to stiffen against your core. Being so close to him for the first time that evening felt like heaven, but you were far too conscious of the amount of people around you. Still, you instinctively turned your head, giving him access to kiss along your neck.

“This is your party, H,” you reminded him, familiar butterflies taking flight within your core as his tongue flicked against your skin. As much as you wanted to give in to Harry, you couldn’t be responsible for taking him away from his own celebration, so many people here for him.

But each movement of his tongue tightened the knot in your core, your walls aching for his touch. His voice, muffled against your skin, whispered, “I know, love. But y’look so fuckin’ good.“

You let out a soft moan as his lips trailed higher, his teeth grazing lightly along your jawline. The pleasure was almost agonising, you couldn’t help arching your back, craving more of his touch. The warmth of his breath against your skin sent shivers down your spine, the strong scent of spirits mixed with his aftershave, almost enough to put you in a trance.

Harry’s voice was filled with desire, continuing to coax you into surrendering to him. “Can’t help myself, princess. Not when y’look like that,” he murmured, your breath hitching as his lips finally found your mouth, his movements soft yet desperate. His tongue danced around yours, exploring every corner of your mouth as though trying to memorise each taste and sensation.

You gripped onto his shoulders, your fingers digging into the fabric of his shirt, desperately trying to ground yourself. “I want you,” Harry panted as he pulled away, his lips swollen and breath ragged.

You were totally lost in him, your chest heaving as Harry stared deep into your eyes, searching for any sign that he’d convinced you enough.

“That is quite enough of that.” A voice came from behind you, startling you both out of your moment of serenity. You jumped away from Harry to see Anne giving you both the once-over, a hint of amusement dancing across her face. “You,” she pointed at Harry, “keep your tongue where it belongs. You,” she was grabbing a hold of your forearm, “with me.”

You could feel a blush creeping up your cheeks as Anne whisked you away, consumed by the long forgotten teenage embarrassment of being caught kissing by a parent. “Sorry,” you cringed, unable to meet her eyes. “It’s only a little kiss, love. I just wanted to help you escape him before anyone else saw,” Anne smiled.

“Oh,” you giggled, relief washing over you. With all the sneaking around, you sometimes had to remind yourself that you weren’t actually a disobedient teenager, waiting to be caught after sneaking a boy into your room.

Anne took you to meet her friends properly, the women she referred to as Harry’s other mums. They were exactly as Gemma had described, the exact same personality that your mum had, the stereotypical welcoming British mum. They told you countless stories of a younger Harry - the cheeky little boy who was always trying to make everyone laugh, to the teenager who took every opportunity to sing in his bedroom. It was always weird to you, knowing so much already about someone who was still new to you. Thankfully, everyone in Harry’s life seemed to accept that you’d been a (deranged) fan of his before you started dating. As he’d told you many times, it would be borderline impossible to date someone who had no idea who he was. Unless he dated babies or old ladies, and he’d been very clear that he didn’t fancy dating either of them.

“How did you two meet?” one of Anne’s friends had asked. It may have only been a month ago, but this was already your favourite story to tell. “In a Starbucks,” you confessed, cheeks tinged pink at the memory. “I was actually seeing him at Wembley, and we just happened to be in Starbucks at the same time. He asked me for a napkin and,” you shrugged, “we just hit it off from there.” Even the world’s strongest man couldn’t wipe the grin off your face at that moment. You loved to talk about your meet-cute, the way your heart caught in your throat at the sight of Harry’s rings, the way you ended up basically living with him for a week from that moment onwards. And yet, you couldn’t focus fully, still heated from your moment with Harry earlier.

His touch still lingered on your skin, warm tingles spreading across your waist where he’d pulled you into him. Anne’s friend grinned back at you, your feelings for Harry evident in the way you spoke about him. “Sounds like fate,” she told you, rubbing a hand on Anne’s thigh. “Your little boy all grown up and in love,” she laughed.

You nodded, unable to hide the sparkle in your eyes as you thought about Harry. It really did feel like fate had bought you here, a higher power intervening to lead you to him. As the conversation continued, you couldn’t help but steal glances at Harry across the room. He was dancing with Jeff, and an unexpected guest - at least for you - James Corden. You knew they were friends, you’d watched Harry’s carpool karaoke and every other late late show segment an embarrassing number of times. But to see him here, genuinely friends with Harry was so bizarre to you. You’d never seen him drunk before, and it wasn’t too different from a puppy with the zoomies. His feet moving too fast for his body, his drink sloshing around the glass as he threw his arms around anyone who caught his eye. He just radiated pure happiness, the very definition of a golden retriever boyfriend.

Harry’s eyes met yours as you watched him, the green of his irises darkening the longer his gaze rested on you. You blew him a kiss, laughing as he mimed catching it and pressing it to his lips. It was insane how someone so sexually driven could be so fucking cute. If you met him for the very first time while he was being sweet, you’d never expect what he could do to you in bed. And if you met him for the very first time in bed, you’d never expect how loving he could be. And now you were thinking of him in bed and getting yourself all worked up again.

“I’m just going to nip to the toilet,” you told Anne, signalling your head towards the corner of the room. You purposely walked behind Harry, trailing a light hand across his lower back to grab his attention, sauntering away without a glance back. You didn’t have to look to know he’d be following you. He caught up to you as you reached the entrance of the toilets, grabbing a hold of your hips with his bulge pressed firmly against your lower back.

“Didn’t think you could get away without me, did you?” he slurred against your ear, guiding you towards the cubicle at the end of the corridor. “Harry, babe, I got your attention so that you’d follow me.”

He laughed, locking the door behind him as one hand trailed up your torso. “Knew you couldn’t resist me,” he smirked, eyes landing on your tits as you turned to face him.

“Was doing fine until you played dirty,” you told him, tangling a hand in the curls at the nape of his neck. He pulled you close to him, his mouth lingering dangerously close to yours. All he could think about was ruining you, having you begging for mercy as he shot streams of his hot cum into you, finally fucking something other than his fist. But he couldn’t do any of that here, couldn’t fuck you the way he needed to in a bathroom stall. “I like playing dirty,” he whispered, crashing his lips against yours. He walked you backwards, hands moving to unzip your dress as his tongue danced around your mouth.

He pulled away to help you out of your dress, his cock twitching as you stepped out of it, left in only your tiny thong and heels. “Fucking hell,” Harry groaned, one hand tracing the curve of your waist as he looked you up and down. Your lips were swollen from his kiss, eyes hazy as you watched him undo his trousers. The second his cock sprung out of his pants you reached for it, desperate to feel it again after so long. Harry grabbed your hand, tangling his fingers in yours, denying you a touch. “Can’t fuck you the way I want to here,” he whispered. “Just need you to stand there and look pretty f’me.”

You nodded, swallowing thickly as he began to stroke his cock. You needed to come, but you didn’t want to spoil your appetite for him. So if Harry needed you to stand and watch him, a starter before your well-earned main course, you were more than happy to. “So fuckin’ beautiful,” he groaned, gripping onto your hip with his free hand. He knew he wasn’t going to last long, he never did with you involved, each stroke only making his core tighten more.

He looked fucking hot. His hair messy, sweat glistening on his neck as he stroked the sweet cock that you’d missed so dearly. Precum was gathering on his tip, his rings clashing together as he grunted and groaned, blown-out pupils fixed on your body. You couldn’t hold in the pants and moans that were forming in your throat, your core on fire as you watched Harry bring himself closer to his climax.

“Turn around,” he drawled, pushing your back down as his tip bumped against your ass, your eyes glued to him in the mirror. He pulled your thong to the side, pushing his fingers inside of your entrance. “Gonna- fuck-” he panted, no time to get you stretched out for his cock before his orgasm started to creep up on him. You shuffled your feet outwards, resting your elbows down on the countertop so he could enter you. He pushed into you quickly, the burn pulling a deep cry from inside of you. “Come, baby,” you pleaded, mouth locked open as your walls closed around him. Harry shot his cum into you, sighs of relief tumbling out of both of your mouths to finally feel your cores connected again, finally have his thick cum deep inside of you.

He stilled, rubbing his hands across your asscheeks, dizzy from the sensation of being deep in you.

The moment was quickly broken by someone banging on the door, and Harry jumped back, the sudden absence of his cock making you a little sad. “Occupied,” he called out, buttoning up his trousers before picking up your dress. “Bastards,” he smirked, bending down behind you to help you back into your clothes. He pressed a kiss to the bottom of your asscheek, moving your panties back over to cover your mound.

“Can’t leave together,” Harry said as his shaky hands did up your zip, still dazed from his orgasm.

“Go,” you told him, pressing a final kiss to his lips. “Need to touch up my makeup anyway.”

—

You could hear Harry’s voice booming over the music as you left the toilets, the rest of the party fallen silent. “Here she is!” he slurred as you came around the corner. Harry was standing on a table, a microphone in his hand as he addressed the crowd gathered in front of him. He reached out a beckoning finger to you, motioning for you to come over. You could hardly reject him in front of all of these eyes, let alone with that cheesy grin calling out to you. “This is Y/N, and f’anybody who doesn’t know, she’s my future wife,” he beamed as you got closer.

He giggled into the microphone, jumping down off of the table on unsteady legs. Harry’s audience clapped at his words, a few drunken cheers erupting. “Louder!” he demanded, “everyone cheer for Y/N!”

He had far too much power with a microphone in his hands, you thought to yourself as he wrapped an arm tight around your shoulders, pressing a kiss to your temple. You knew you were blushing wildly, not at all used to being in the spotlight. You rested your head on his shoulder, hoping it would somehow obscure you from view. “Seriously,” Harry continued, his goofy grin not budging as he glanced down at you, “this woman is the joy of my life. And you’re all close seconds. Thank you f’coming out to celebrate me, the band and everyone who’s worked on this tour. Roll on Saturday!”

He dropped the microphone onto the table behind him, moving his hand to cup your cheek before pressing his lips to yours, harder this time. The rest of the party had started to disperse around the room again, but now it didn’t matter if anyone saw. You were kissing Harry, properly kissing him, in public, and there was very little that could bring you down from that high. As he pulled away, Harry sat back on the table, pulling you to stand between his legs. “M’ so proud of you,” you whispered, brushing your fingertips across his cheek. He was looking deep in your eyes, his stare laced with something deeper than the affection he’d shown you before. “I love y-”, he started, his words cut off when you slapped a hand over his mouth. “Nuh uh, not letting you say it when you’re drunk,” you laughed, snarling at him as he tried to pull your hand away. When he finally managed, he pinned your hands to your sides, turning you around in his arms until your back was flush with his chest.

“A drunken mind speaks sober thoughts,” he chuckled, peppering soft kisses down your shoulder. You could have exploded, physically exploded in that moment. “Harry,” you warned, unable to wipe the smile from your face. He pressed his lips close to your ear, his warm breath washing over the side of your face. “I love you,” he whispered, grinning at you as you craned your neck to face him. “I love you,” you replied, heart hammering against your ribcage as the words finally came out. “Can I take you home now?” Harry smirked, his fingers dancing across your waist. “Please,” you whispered, taking his hand in yours.

taglist: @sleutherclaw @slutforcoffein @harrysolaf @opheliaofficial07 @dragonslayersupremacy @nikkisimps @michellekstyles @im-an-overthinker @fangirl7060 @indierockgirrl @palmettogal508 @thereunion1d @hannah9921 @harryshotpocket @daphnesutton @tenaciousperfectionunknown @thegrapejuiceblues1982 @mema10 @annageeeezzzz @cicicavill7 @drewsephrry @tswiftsgf @ashleighsss @bikestyles @he6rtshaker @prettygurl-2009 @softestqueeen @jerseygirlinca @teammom4 @chesthairrry @golden-hoax @lilfreakjez @swag13r @cursingatdaylight @s-h-e-l-b-e-e

#harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry edward styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x y/n #harry styles masterlist #harryslittlefreakk #late night talking #harry styles x fan

[islandofsages]

So i got some silly idea, Can i request Savanaclaw dorm with male raccoon beastman reader 🦝 (who is also a third year Savanaclaw student) that likes to ✨ collect trash ✨ and ✨ dumpster driving ✨ Like, He is not poor but he just likes to do that. Thanks! Have a great day!

characters: the savanaclaw boys x male raccoon beastman third year reader

tags: platonic, fluff, imagines format

warnings: none

author's notes: i feel like i made dumpster-diving sound like thrifting in this ... i love thrifting can you tell

Leona Kingscholar

“...Whaddya think ya’re doing?”

Oh, you thought it was obvious but apparently not. You're dumpster diving obviously

A better question would be what is Leona Kingscholar doing near a bunch of dumpsters. You point this out to him

He actually seems to ponder that question for a second. What is he doing there, entertaining some dumpster-diver? Then he realizes that it doesn’t matter

His face merely contorts into an irritated frown and he mumbles something about “fucking raccoon beastpeople and their weird habits” then walks off

You watch his silhouette grow smaller by the second then shrug to yourself. His loss

He doesn’t say anything when you come back to the dorms carrying the junk you get from your scavenging but you can tell he’s somewhat curious of what you found

One time you come back bringing a wholeass couch and it’s somehow in mint condition - he’s more bewildered by the people who’s throwing the trash than you at this point

It’s definitely not for him but as long as you don’t bother him and that you’re happy, he doesn’t say a word about your habits.

Jack Howl

He tries not to be too judgemental since there’s all kinds of people in NRC and he feels like he’s definitely seen weirder things by now

He’s a little confused but he got the spirit! Spirit of what exactly? Spirit of supporting you and respecting his upperclassmen obviously

He’s somewhat stiff around you since you’re older and he doesn’t want to offend you in any way - so you make an effort to make him more comfortable around you

You’d tell him about what you find in your little adventures and he seems to be amused by the kind of stuff people easily throw away here

“That’s part of the magic! Plus, once you get used to the stench and filth, it’s really not all that bad.”

He believes and trusts your words but he still won’t try it for himself. He’ll leave it all up to you and your expertise

Sooner or later, with enough storytelling, a smile on his face becomes a common look for him whenever you’re around

You’d even bring him back stuff you found that you think he’d like (after thoroughly washing them and bringing them back to the best condition of course)

Whenever you see him use the stuff you give to him, whether it’s a decoration in his room or it’s on his person, you feel a little proud of the bond you’ve nurtured with him.

Ruggie Bucchi

He understands the need to stoop to that level but when you tell him you don’t even need the stuff you collect and just do it for fun, he’s silent for a bit

Still won’t judge you for it! Plus sometimes he gets the good stuff from your scavenges so he’s not complaining

Once he gets curious enough, he’ll tag along on the diving… and it’s not as bad as he thought it would be

It’s stinky and dirty but sometimes he really hits the jackpot in some of the dumpsters. It’s like a thrift store but even cheaper somehow

“(Y/N), look at what I found! Are you seeing this right now?”

You unironically become dumpster-diving buddies and the two of you would review the stuff you got after each session to decide if you’re going to keep some or not

You guys can probably get a lot of clout if you start a YouTube channel

You two grow a lot closer after enlightening him of the joys of dumpster-diving, which you aren’t too surprised about since it’s a common bonding experience for you raccoon beastpeople

But as you look back on your memories of junk-collecting and look forward towards Ruggie's laugh, you can’t help but laugh with him.

#twst #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #platonic twst x reader #platonic twisted wonderland x reader #twst x male reader #twisted wonderland x male reader #leona kingscholar #leona kingscholar x reader #leona kingscholar x male reader #jack howl #jack howl x reader #jack howl x male reader #ruggie bucchi #ruggie bucchi x reader #ruggie bucchi x male reader

[moonlesslights]

Miguel O'Hara x Reader.

a little lovely thing for you, loves <3

any comment about it is appreciated!

Ժ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴ ╴

After a long day dealing with all of the problems being the head of the Spider Community brings with it: catching bad guys and having to be realistic with the good ones just in order to protect them, even if the truth hurt them when he whispers it in a harsh voice after he looses all patience; Miguel found himself, looking at his reflection on the screen of one of the computers, tired.

His eyes wander to the wall next to him. 10:37pm. It is still rather early, most of the people and creatures in the building are probably still awake, and it is still three hours away from the hour he usually goes to bed too. But right now he knows he won’t make it till then, he has so much stuff to do, so much to worry about but his brain can only focus in one thing, can only tell him he needs one and only one thing right now. And it’s your fault.

He grunts when he jumps from the platform all the way to the floor, fighting with his own emotions and his desperation to get out of there. He is mad at himself for the way he’s acting, for the feeling of his body looking for yours… But he can’t do any more today, he knows what he needs and if he stays here like this he knows he won’t get anything done anyway.

Miguel walks out of his “cave”, as you used to call it, and goes on his way, swinging around a couple of times on his web and crawling some more across the diagonal pillars of the building to get where he was sure you were going to be right now. Because it wasn’t like he would often turn on the cameras on one of his holograms and played to look for you till the point of unconsciously knowing your favorite places to hang out by now. Of course not.

He’s so deep in his thoughts that when he finally hears your laugh just a few meters away, his heart skips a beat. And although his face doesn’t show any particular emotion when he walks up to you and your friends, he’s internally fighting with himself again for the whole situation. What was he doing here? Why is he acting this way? What was he thinking?

“Miguel?” You raise an eyebrow at him, he can see the confusion on your eyes but he especially takes notice of how you smile still, happy to see him. Happy to see him.

“Night.” He announces his presence, walking closer to you. The people around, which isn’t much, smile nervously at him, while some others seem unbothered by the new arrival. He looks at you for a moment and he doesn’t say a single word before taking you by the wrist and announcing again: “Night.”

“No, what? Wait… Miguel!” You look back, confused at his actions. You try to plant your feet on the ground and stop the both of you, but he easily continues to drag you across the floor and soon enough, taking you by the waist despite your insistence in questioning where were you’re going, swings you around in quick and confident movements till the noise of the whole building starts to be left behind.

You sigh and let the right side of your face rest against his shoulder. Surrendering to his actions and judgement.

He appreciated that, he liked it so much more than he wanted to admit. How you relax when you’re with him, how you trust him almost blindly, how you know, without him having to say a word, that he won’t hurt you. No matter what he did or how he acted without giving you an explanation, you trusted he would always have a plan. And even if he said to himself that he didn’t need anyone, he can’t deny —he can’t understand— how much he enjoys looking around a room after a particularly hard situation to find your eyes on him, the only ones that are never scared, the only ones that keep shining in trust… He doesn’t know what he would do if that ever changes.

If he reaches to touch you and you step back. If he calls your name and you don’t turn back. He has imagined, a couple dozen times, different scenarios, with you covered in blood, with you inside this very building, with you alongside someone else, but always the same eyes: like a rabbit staring at the fox baring his teeth, terrified, trembling. He always has to look for you after that image takes over his mind, almost convincing him it could be real. He can’t find himself at peace as he erratically opens and closes his hands, until you appear before him, smiling with so much warm that he can’t imagine, he won’t imagine, another emotion in your face than this one, where he reaches out for you and you don’t step back, where he calls your name and you turn around, where he can have you in between his arms for as long as he wants now, closing the door to all of the problems of the world outside.

You take his hand when he finally steps you down, guiding you across the dark hall to his room. You remain in silence but you can hear the thud of his heart beating inside his ribcage. You’re sure he knows you can hear it. You’re sure he can hear yours too.

As he opens the door and lets you get inside the room first, you relax almost instantly. His scent fills your lungs, making the air feel lighter at the very second your take in the first breath.

“Get comfortable.” He says in a neutral voice without even looking at you, and you know exactly what he means.

As he takes off his suit you walk to his closet. You take one of your favorite t-shirts of him to put on once you got rid of your own suit. It was fresh and it brushes your skin deliciously when you put it on, like cold water after a warm day under the sun.

You jump in the bed the moment he removes the cover, humming in content when you feel the cool blankets under you. Miguel lifts one of the corners of his mouth, his eyes are still tired but you can see that soft glimmer one can only take notice of in the dark, if you pay attention, where you can see how much he’s trying, how much hope he’s still guarding inside his own heart.

He climbs onto the bed with one knee, and lets his weigh fall onto his elbows first before finally letting himself rest on top of you with a soft grunt caused by the sore of his muscles. He buries his face on your chest, right between your breasts, closing his eyes almost immediately, easing in the feeling of your skin against his own. One of his hands lifts up, waving its fingers in the air. You laugh at his action, shaking your head.

“You could use your voice to tell me what you want.” You chuckle right above his ear, sending a pleasant shiver all across his body.

“Please?” He asks like he’s not sure of the use of that word.

You smile, lifting your hand and intertwining it with his. Only then, his brows relax, letting both of your hands fall back onto the bed, caressing your skin with his thumb running up and down in a tender swing.

“How are you?” You ask in a soft whisper.

“Better now.” He answers and you can’t not even begin to comprehend how much he means those words. He doesn’t know if he wants you to do it. One step out of the door and he looses the only thing that makes him human. “How are you?” He asks back, this time turning his head up to look at your eyes.

You chuckle. “Never better.” You tilt your head, allowing him to see that warmness in your eyes only reserved for him. His jaw clenches at the sole thought of someone else holding you like he does. He can’t allow it. He knows the implications of your having a whole life on your own universe, of someone waiting to steal you from him. He doesn’t think he could go over the fact of seeing you marry someone else… Well, now the thought of you walking down the aisle in white holding someone else’s hand has ruined his mood again. He frowns, looking down again. You laugh. “What was that face?! What is it?”

He doesn’t answer and you don’t wish to push him. He spends all the time being responsible of this whole place, having to be the voice of reason among all the others. You can’t blame him to act out all his foolishness when he’s alone with you.

After a couple of minutes with you running the fingers of your free hand along his hair, he finally drops out the words stuck on his throat:

“Choose me.” Not ‘stay’, not ‘don’t leave’, not ‘don’t go back’, but ‘choose me’. Even if you’re in another universe, even if we don’t see each other in months or years, even if we shouldn’t, choose me. “You’re free to leave, I would never ask you otherwise. But come back to me every time you do, please.”

“Miguel…”

“I know what I’m asking, but I promise I would never interfere with your duties in this organization nor anything in that matter. So choose to keep me by your side. So I… Fuck.” He buries his head even more, till the point his words are muffled by the t-shirt you’re wearing. “I might not survive. If… If you go. Y’know?” He says and you can tell how red his face probably is even without seeing it. “It won’t end well for me if you never come back from home.”

“Mhm…” You hum. “I see that that talk we had about opening to your feelings wasn’t in vain. You’re really putting on on practice…”

“Oh, c’mon.” He groans, turning around and trying to get up from his position, but your arms are quicker when you wrap around him, laughing out loud at his face.

“Come here, I’m kidding.” You smile, giving him a soft kiss on his forehead. Your hands start to draw figures on his back, with such tenderness he doesn’t have the strength to try to back up again. You take his chin and, after a few attempts, he finally gives in and looks at you. “This is home, Miguel.”

His eyes slightly widen at your words and his hands fight to cling to your body again, to bring your against him. Because it’s just never enough.

“Any love I have showed you, any love I show and give you from now on, is yours to keep.” You sigh. “I will not turn away, no matter how ugly things get. I will always find my way back to you.”

Miguel didn’t answered, three words were still dripping from his tongue, but what he felt for you was higher than what his voice could express, so he fell silent and took your face with his right hand and asked for permission with his eyes before kissing your smile. His lips against yours felt heavy and soft, you can feel his fear to hurt you in his careful movements, but you open your mouth, letting those three words slide in with his tongue brushing against yours like the sea crashes on the shore.

He drops his head to your neck, pushing with his thumb your jaw up, opening space for him to kiss and lick up in straight lines with his tongue. You wrap your legs around his waist, feeling him press against you. You haven’t taken this step yet, your intimacy grew from long nights talking and soft brushes of skin caressing skin, from mornings waking up beside each other, from the urgency to run to each other's arms, to hear your voice, to have his arms secured around you.

Miguel refused to take it any further because he thought, months ago, watching you sleeping curled against his chest, that if he tasted you whole, there wouldn’t be no turning back. It would be his perdition.

But now he realizes that even without doing that, his life would never go back to the same as it was before you appeared in front of him for the very first time. He doesn’t want it to be like that ever again. He knows, that from the moment he saw you, maybe even before that, one part of his soul tangled around you, and has refused to let go ever since. It belongs to her now. It had belonged to her since she was born. To be hers, to be his.

Maybe, he thinks as he takes both of your wrists above your head with one hand while the other caresses deeply on your hips as his fangs tease above your skin alongside his tongue and hot breath, it is time to go all the way in.

#miguel ohara #spiderman #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara imagine #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara x you #miguel o’hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara x y/n #miguel ohara x you #miguel o'hara x y/n #spiderman across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara drabble #miguel o'hara fluff #miguel ohara fluff

[autisticlancemcclain]

My Dearest La

Dear La

Lance,

I really hate it when you’re right.

I know you are smiling as you read this. I can see it so clearly in my head. You are rolling your eyes now, probably, in fact you are probably even straining yourself. But I bet you are still smiling.

…

I miss you.

You told me leaving was stupid. Well, we screamed about it. I don’t like that I left angry. I should have waited so we could have been — well, I don’t know. I just don’t like that I left without saying goodbye properly. I don’t like that I didn’t get to kiss the smush between your eyebrows that you get when you’re mad

The bottom line is that I’m sorry. And I can’t do anything about it now because what’s done is done but. I wish I did. I’m sorry this message is so dorky. I can’t help how I feel about you. I promise I’ll be more — suave, or whatever, in my next one. There’s this Blade I hang out with sometimes, Sedrit, she is awkwardly funny like you. She has promised to give me some pointers because she’s as nosy as you are and read over my shoulder all the other times I tried to write this letter. I don’t trust her judgement but I’d walk into a wall on purpose in front of Pidge’s cameras if I could guarantee it’d make you laugh I think we could always use a smile. I’m ending this letter now because I’m embarrassed and if I write one more line I’ll lose my nerve.

Love,

Warm regards,

Sincerely,

Love,

Keith

———

“Sir? Sir! Hold on! Sir!”

The Balmeran turns, looking back at him curiously. He leans heavily on his cane, back hunched but chin set squarely.

“Yes, Blade?”

Keith jogs all the way over to him, stopping a respectful distance away. He reaches up to deactivate his mask, which he is not supposed to do, but the mask is fucking creepy, okay, it makes people uneasy so clearly that even Keith can see it, so fuck Kolivan’s lectures. He’s vindicated by the visible relaxing of the Balmeran’s shoulders.

“I need — a favour,” Keith says haltingly. His own shoulders begin to hunch. “If you don’t mind.”

The Balmeran’s stiff brows lift in surprise. He looks deliberately down at his newly-bandaged leg, then back up at Keith. Keith flushes.

“A… favour.”

All the pockets on Keith’s uniform are square-shaped and small. Deep, but not very long. Anything he puts in there gets squished. Except for the long, thin pocket-thing hidden against the outside of his thigh.

The letter has been stuffed carefully in there for two weeks. It’s a miracle it hasn’t been destroyed. The top left corner of it has gotten frayed, because Keith keeps catching himself rubbing it with the pad of his thumb.

“I know you’ve been through so much,” Keith says quietly. “I’m sorry even to ask.”

The Balmeran’s stance is still carefully guarded, practiced —

“As have you.”

— but his eyes are soft and knowing.

Keith lets out a long, heavy breath. He slides the letter gently out of its spot, turning it over in his hands; inspecting the familiar creases, ink stains. It’s a rough, recycled envelope. Made out of old briefing notes, by the looks of it, thick black lines of censorship streaking across the pale yellow surface. An ugly thing, really.

“I need to get this to the Red Paladin of Voltron,” he says, forcing himself to hand the thing over. “I don’t — I can’t send it through the Empire delivery service, for obvious reasons. And Voltron’s location is always encrypted. I —” He stops, mouth clamping shut, because suddenly the words have become impossible to force out through the lump in his throat. He hasn’t talked to the team in weeks. He has no way of contacting them without putting them — or himself — in danger. There will be absolutely no way for Lance to send him a letter back, even if he wants to. The whole thing seems, abruptly, a painful kind of hopeless.

And yet.

“I will pass it along,” promises the Balmeran, voice flooded with kind understanding. He wraps his hands around Keith’s, squeezing once, before gently prying the letter out of his clenched fingers. “I don’t know how long it will take, but I have a someone who works in Emerg-med. She travels frequently, and should be able to take it farther than I can.”

“Thank you,” Keith chokes out, blinking rapidly.

The Balmeran smiles. “Keep strong, child.”

———

“Granddaughter,” greets the old man warmly. The young woman turns at his voice, laughing in delight when she sees him and enveloping him carefully in an embrace.

“Grandfather! You’re well!”

“I’m alive,” he corrects, teasingly.

She takes the jest in stride. “You are alive, and so you are well. I am so happy to see you.” There is genuine love in her voice. She holds tightly to his arm. “Are you staying in care long?”

He shakes his head. “No, dear. I dropped by only to see you. And,” he digs around in his pocket, carefully extracting a letter, placing it in her waiting hands, “to ask a favour.”

“A letter?”

“For the Red Paladin, from the Black.”

“I see.” She frowns thoughtfully, turning the paper over in her hands. “Last I heard, they were rebuilding on Ilso. I am going only as far as Igrendia, to visit my cousin.”

“Pass it along then,” he suggests.

She promises she will.

———

A young girl, to her cousin: “Imeld! Can you pass something along for me?”

A cousin, to her lover: “If you could drop it off at the supply camp when you stop by.”

A lover, to his father: “A friend of mine works in that fuel stop. Let him know I sent you?”

A father, to a friend of a friend: “Only a couple stops left, I reckon.”

A friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend, to a friend of a friend: “It’s almost there.

———

A friend of a friend of a friend, to a Paladin:

“I think this is yours. It’s travelled a while.”

———

A smile aches at the apples of Lance’s cheeks. Salt drips onto his tongue, and he swallows, breath shuddering.

“You — dorky asshole,” he whispers, and tucks the envelope in the secret pocket on the thigh of his undersuit.

———

Lance,

I have no idea if my last letter got to you. I hope it did, if not, here’s the rundown: you were right, I regret leaving, and I miss you.

Anyways.

Today I was on a mission in a planet that was just a huge wildflower field. Just — hundreds of hundreds of flowers, every colour you can imagine and then some. It smelled like you. I cried.

Do you remember when we snuck out of that negotiation — thing? Whatever it was? And you poked me hard in the arm and loudly complained about how much of a bummer I was being. And you dared me to roll down the hill with you. And when I was laughing at the bottom of the hill because you had just so much grass in your hair you crawled over me and kissed me like you’d been waiting to do it.

I remember how we kissed until my lips bruised after. And then we just lay there, until I got fidgety, and then you pulled us both up and walked around picking flowers and sticking them in my hair and snickering. This was the flower. Doesn’t it look like the one you brought back?

I thought of you a lot today. It hurt a little bit. A lot bit. I missed you until it ached.

I hope I see you in the flowers again soon.

I love you more than the stars

Love, and lots of it,

Keith

———

“Hey, Sedrit.”

His voice is as hushed as he can make it. He doesn’t want to wake the others. But she won’t be asleep — she never sleeps before big missions. She says it’s because the adrenaline keeps her alert, puffing up her chest. But Keith knows that she prays because she is afraid that she will die.

She doesn’t answer, so he kicks the bottom of the mattress above him. He hears a huff, and then seconds later, a curtain of hair flops over the side of the top bunk, and her wide, pupil-less eyes blink into focus.

“What do you want, shithead.”

He smiles at her guiltily. “A favour?”

“Ugh.”

But she looks at him in begrudging acceptance.

“I need you to — drop something off, when you go to El-dan. Ask another Blade there if they could pass on a letter.”

She must read his tone, because the annoyance vanishes from her expression. She reaches over and flicks him in the nose.

“Yeah, lovebird. I can pass on your letter.”

———

“Hey, man, could you send this along the next off-world?”

“What for?”

“For true love. Or because I asked you to.”

———

“I don’t know what it is. It’s classified. But it needs to get to the Red Paladin.”

———

“I heard it’s news of an ambush!”

“Well, it can’t be news now. It’s weeks old at least.”

“Yes, well, drop it off anyways. It’s Voltron business, you know.”

———

Lance’s door slide opens.

“I have — correspondence,” says Allura, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed of a possible ambush? Perhaps we should read the letter together.”

Prepared remark about greetings and knocking and why they were invented flee Lance’s tongue, and his controller clatters to the ground in his haste to meet her.

“Lemme see,” he demands, snatching the letter straight from her hands. Her protests fall on deaf ears.

You were right, I regret leaving, I miss you.

He grins.

“What is that?”

“No ambush,” he says breathlessly, floating back over to his bed. He traces the shape of every letter, the blots of smudged ink. The scratch of the words is just as important as the content of the letter, Lance has found. He’s long since memorized the first letter, but he still finds himself drawing it out of his pocket, unfolding it with a shaky sort of reverence, studying every slanted T and looped L, closing his eyes and letting the impression of the ink burn into his eyelids. The cadence of the words have become song, hummed over and over and over again in his head.

This time, there’s a drawing. It does indeed look similar to the one hanging, dried, at the head of his bed. He presses the tip of his thumb into the center of it, breathing hard, rapidly blinking away the tears so they don’t drop and ruin the paper.

“I remember,” he manages, half-choked. “I remember, I remember.”

When he looks up again, hours have passed, and Allura has long since left, closing the door quietly behind her.

———

Lance, my love,

I know we do not talk about the observation deck.

It is your sacred place, I think. When you sit in the middle of the floor and look up at the glowing stars and the planets cast shadows on your face and make your eyes shine gold as sunlight the only way to describe you is holy. The first time I ever saw you like that it made my stomach hurt. When I think about it now I miss you so much the ache spreads all the way to my teeth.

When I was a kid I read about how grief makes you hurt but time makes you forget. I read about how men begin to forget the shape of their late wives’ smile. Or the slope of her nose. I read about how children begin to forget the slant of their fathers’ shoulder. How mothers forget the way their babies curled their fist.

Missing you hurts like unravelling. You’re all I think about. I will never forget the fit of your hand in mine as long as I remember how to speak. And I will know the ridges of your teeth so long as I can taste. I will know the length of your back as long as I can walk. I will remember the curve of your lips as long as I can blink. I will know the way you glowed in floating blue starlight until my brain shuts down and my organs fail me.

Patroclus said I will know him in death and at the end of the world.

I will know you every waking second of my life, and I will make myself remember for every nanosecond in between.

Nothing will compare to holding you in my arms again.

Keith

———

Sedrit has officially been declared missing in action. A new soldier has taken her bunk.

Keith’s stomach hurts all the time, now.

“Just — one time,” Keith begs.

“You have way more training than that job requires,” says Kolivan.

“I know. I just —” He realises, suddenly, that even if he had an argument he does not have the strength to make it. The letter creases in his clenched hands. “Please.”

For a long moment the Blade leader does not speak. Keith meets his searching gaze, but his eyes are blank, unfocused. Exhaustion pulls at his features. His hood droops on his shoulders.

“In an out, Keith,” Kolivan relents finally. “A supply mission should take less than four vargas. I want you back here then and not a tick later, so you understand?”

Keith could cry in relief, but Kolivan looks stiff enough already. Should Keith express an emotion in front of him he might be forced into a total system reset, and his programming might not be prepared for that.

“Thank you,” he says instead, and rushes off before he can change his mind.

Matt is leading the supply run. This letter might land right in Lance’s hands.

———

“I’ll get it to him, Keith.”

“Thank you, Matt. I owe you.”

“Take care of yourself, man. They all miss you.”

“…I miss them too.”

———

Matt hands him the letter without a word. No one else says anything, either, when he clenched it tightly between his thumb and forefinger and walks right out of the bridge. Not even Shiro, whose gaze Lance can feel bore a hole into the back of his head.

You’re all I think about, writes Keith’s neat cursive, and Lance presses the paper to his chest and cries.

———

My Lance,

I hate it here.

I miss you.

———

Alarm bells shriek through the headquarters. Keith has become numb to them, at this point.

He slides the letter in between the pages of an intelli-file and hopes.

———

CLASSIFIED

FOR VOLTRON’S EYES ONLY

BIOMETRICS REQUIRED

WILL SELF DESTRUCT

———

There is a letter waiting on his bed when Lance gets back from his mission on Efid-d. He has not slept in three days. His vision is blurry.

He falls asleep with the paper open in his hands, mirroring the curve of Keith’s body.

———

My love,

Naxzela. Soon. I think Kolivan knows there’s something wrong. I’m gonna I might I think I can stay, for a bit. Hopefully.

Well, I will see you again. Damn it all. I don’t care about the world I don’t care about the Empire I don’t care about anything, anymore, I just want to come home —

Naxzela.

It will be weeks until I see you face to face on this mission but already everything seems less bleak. I will admit some of the anger has crept in. I feel awful. I’m trying to remember what you said, in the very beginning, before you kissed me in the flowers. When you held my hands in the purple light and said we make a good team.

I know you say you don’t remember it, you goober. You do. You get embarrassed when I bring it up, that’s how I know. You always get embarrassed when you’re caught being vulnerable.

I loved you then, you know. I didn’t know it then but I did. I thought about your hand in mine for weeks. You have always been so central to me.

Soon, sweetheart. Soon I can hold you again.

Naxzela.

———

He doesn’t bother sending this one along. He tucks it in the secret pocket on the side of his pants, and with every passing day it grows heavier and the weight on his chest grows lighter.

———

When the shield closes over the planet and Keith says, it’s been an honour serving with you all, the scream starts at the bottom of Lance’s feet. It comes up to his knees when he sees the pod speeding towards it, up to his chest when Shiro barks at him to stay in formation. It catches in his throat as he wrenches Red away.

It echoes through space when the pod hits the shield in a shower of blue sparks and grey smoke, and Prince Lotor defects to their side one nanosecond too late.

———

The beep of the healing pod synchs with Lance’s heartbeat. It can’t quite drown out the screech echoing in Lance’s head; that keeps going, and going, and going.

Soon, sweetheart.

He sobs into the half-burned paper.

———

“You better keep your promise, you dorky asshole.”

———

Healing pods have always smelt, inexplicably, of burnt hair.

He hears the slide of the glass door opening, then the whoosh of air as he pitches forward before his arms are awake enough to stop him. Luckily, he falls right into bony arms, and the smell of flowers and sunshine quickly envelops him.

“You motherfucker,” says a voice, heavy with tears, and Keith smiles.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he croaks.

His Lance sobs. The hands on the sides of his arms slide slowly down to his wrists, gripping tightly. Keith forces his eyes open, blinking away the bleariness. Lance has his own eyes squeezed shut, like he’s too afraid to look, head bowed.

Well, that simply won’t do.

“Lance, baby, look at me.”

“You motherfucker,” Lance repeats, and finally he does look up but he’s glaring angrier than Keith has ever seen him. Keith grins wider. “You motherfucker, you damn near lied to me.”

Slowly, half convinced he’ll move to fast and wake up on his bunk, alone, he reaches up and cups Lance’s cheeks. He swipes his thumbs carefully over wet cheekbones, exhaling shakily, revelling in the feel of Lance’s skin under his, finally, finally, finally.

“I’m home, Lance,” he whispers. Tears spring from his own eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m home.”

“Stay,” Lance begs, like he should have months and months ago, like he meant to, like he wanted to.

“There’s no other option,” Keith promises, and as he leans in and presses their lips together, finally, tasting the salt and licking the ridge of his teeth and swallowing every shuddering breath, he vows to never send a letter again.

He’ll tell Lance all he needs to hear himself.

———

all art by @mothmanavenue

concept from this post

#THANK YOU MOTH I LOVE YOU TO PIECES YOURE RHE BESTEST #vld #voltron #lance #lance mcclain #keith #keith kogane #klance #establisbed klance #secret relationship #kind of #langst #keith angst #klangst #angst with a happy ending #naxzela #long distance relationships #brown eyed lance #blade keith #red paladin lance #soft keith #soft lance #soft klance #romantic keith #my writing #fic #longpost #artist keith

[lilmoonbunny]

Co-Workers to Lovers; Albert Wesker

Warnings: Cheating boyfriend (reader's bf, not Wesker), alcohol consumption, implied nsfw.

Working alongside Albert Wesker was… interesting.

He was cold, rude, blunt, and so on with all his workers, except for you.

He wasn’t a lot nicer, but there wasn’t the same amount of judgement, hatred, and annoyance in his tone when he spoke to you.

If it wasn’t for the fact that he would kill them, your co-workers would joke that he has a sweet spot for you.

It wasn’t like you didn’t have one for him also. Most of your co-workers hated you for the special treatment you got from Wesker, so he was basically all you had at Umbrella.

Your boyfriend wasn’t fond of your work-relationship with Albert, something about how he “didn’t trust the creep” and how “he’s trying to steal you from me”.

You never believed any of that, but then again, you never believed that your boyfriend would cheat on you either.

Well, until the night you came home from work earlier than usual to the sound of moans from your bedroom.

At first, you thought maybe he was masturbating. After all, it had been a while since you two had last had sex. Work Albert had been keeping you busy.

The moment you heard the female moans, you knew what was happening, but you couldn’t stop yourself from entering the room.

“Really?” You asked him, watching his face morph from pleasure, to shock, to anger.

“You’re home early!”

“Clearly.”

Without another word, you left the room as your boyfriend of three years rushed to put his pants on and chase after you, but before he could reach you, you had already left, beginning to walk in the pouring rain.

You didn’t know what to do or where to go, so you ended up back at work. They had beds for those doing 24-hour shifts, so you could just take one of those.

“I thought you finished for today. Why are you here, and why are you wet? You’re dripping on the floor.” Whilst his words would seem annoyed, there was an underlying tone of concern in Albert’s tone.

“My boyfriend cheated on me; I walked here in the rain. Sorry, Sir.” You whispered, avoiding eye contact.

Had you been paying attention, you would have noticed the way his jaw clenched in anger, but all you heard was an annoyed sigh followed by you being told to follow him.

He took you to his office, bluntly telling you to sit before leaving the room.

You waited, eyes still staring at the floor rather than the room around you.

You were embarrassed more than anything. First your boyfriend cheats on you for God only knows how long, and now you’re crying to your boss.

“It’s not your fault.” Wesker’s deep voice sounds from behind you, the weight of a towel being placed on your shoulder pulls you from your self-deprecating thoughts.

You shrug and he sighs again, taking a seat in his chair.

“Look at me.” You do.

It isn’t easy for him, not at all, but he does do his best to put on a somewhat kinder face and try to comfort you.

“He’s a moron. Don’t worry about that idiot. You deserve better.” He says. “You deserve me” sounds his internal voice, but he ignores it.

With a quiet sigh, you nod and agree. “Thank you, Sir.”

“Albert is quite fine, Dear.” The name causes you to blush and you silently pray that he doesn’t notice or will just pass it off as you being cold, but he isn’t stupid.

“Thank you, Albert.”

Wesker can’t deny the way his body reacts when his name rolls from your tongue, but he can sure as hell ignore it. He doesn’t need feelings. He isn’t capable of them, he tells himself.

“You can stay in my office for the time being. I finish in an hour or two, I’ll drive you back to my place.” It wasn’t an invitation, it was a demand, but one that you didn’t want to turn down.

“Thank you.” You repeat, and he simply nods, passing you some dry clothes, and leaving to return to work.

Once he finished work, Albert gathered his things and lead you to his car.

Being the gentleman he is, although it was only for you, he held the door open for you, enjoying the way you blushed and muttered a thank you.

The drive was quiet. It was late, dark, and you were both deep in your thoughts.

He was wondering if he had made a mistake inviting you to stay at his home until you were back on your feet. He didn’t know how long he could go without kissing or touching you, but it also didn’t sit right with him making you stay at Umbrella offices where it wasn’t safe, or with your cheating boyfriend.

However, all you could think about was how good he looked driving, his hands tightened around the wheel and the gearstick. There was something oddly attractive about it.

Despite him being deep in his own thoughts, he didn’t fail to notice and couldn’t help the smirk on his lips which made you blush once again.

“We’re here,” he said, quickly moving to open your door for you and lead you into his mansion house, enjoying the shock on your face.

“Thank you, Albert,” you smiled at him as soon as you two were sat with drinks in your hands. “It means a lot to me. More than you can imagine.”

“It’s no problem, Dear.”

Over the weeks that you had stayed at his place, it was safe to say that you and Albert had grown closer, the same as your feelings had grown more for one another.

Albert was working more to keep himself busy, as were you, but the drives home were becoming more and more painful each time.

It was obvious to him that you had feelings for him, but he was him. Albert Wesker isn’t exactly the king of relationships, or even friendships; he had betrayed everyone in his life, after all.

He couldn’t resist, however, placing his large hand on your thigh as he drove, enjoying the way you tensed up beneath his touch and a blush ran to your cheeks, but you remained silent.

Having enjoyed your reaction, this was something he began doing every journey. He loved seeing you flustered, even more so when you stuttered when he spoke to you during the drive.

“No need to stutter, Dear. It’s only us.” He would say with a smirk.

You didn’t know how much longer you could last without touching him either, but you were afraid of rejection. Sure, he touched you, but what if he didn’t want you to touch him.

He could sense your hesitation and didn’t expect you to ever do anything, at least, until you laid your hand on top of his that rested on your thigh, your head lying on the glass of the window. It was clear you were tired, and perhaps that was why you were doing it.

You fell asleep that drive, the sound of rain and feeling of Albert’s hand touching your own lulling you into a deep sleep, one that he didn’t want to wake you from., so he didn’t. Instead, he carefully lifted you and carried you to the room you had been staying in. Your room.

Your relationship grew closer from there. You trusted him and, scarily enough for him, he trusted you also.

You went out one night with your friends, Wesker telling you to call him when you were ready to come home, and he would pick you up; he didn’t trust anyone but himself to get you home safely.

You had talked about him all night, leaving your friends wondering what was happening between you both. That was when you finally admitted it to yourself: you loved him.

Whilst the thought had always been there, completely admitting it to yourself was terrifying, but it had to be done.

However, the only way you felt you could properly think on this was by drinking more.

When it reached 3am, you texted him telling him you’ll get a cab since he was likely asleep.

Don’t be stupid, I’ll come get you. I can’t sleep. Where are you? Came his immediate reply. He would never admit it, but he stayed up worrying about you.

He was there moments later, helping you into the car so you didn’t fall with a sigh.

“Are you mad at me?” You asked upon realising that he wasn’t touching you for the first time in weeks.

“No.”

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure.”

“Then why aren’t you touching me?”

“You’re drunk. I’m not touching you whilst you’re drunk, Y/N.”

A blush ran up your cheeks at the realisation and your drunk self couldn’t stop the words leaving your lips.

“But what if I want you to? What if I want you to do more than hold my thigh?” You’d regret that in the morning, but you were too drunk to care.

Albert’s hand tightened on the wheel at your words, doing his best to calm his breathing before responding.

“You’re still drunk. I’m not taking advantage of you whilst you’re under the influence. If you still want it tomorrow, then I will.” Were the final words for the night before you fell asleep and he, yet again, carried you inside, the smallest smile on his lips.

The following morning you were terrified of facing him, remembering what you had said, so you stayed inside your room until noon when a knock came on your door.

“I know you’re awake, Y/N. We need to talk.” Came his stern voice that had both your heart and thoughts racing, assuming the worst.

“Okay.” Came your meek response as you opened the door, allowing him into the room.

It was silent for a few moments, before you offered him a seat beside you.

“Did you mean what you said last night?” He asked, staring at you. “Be honest, I won’t be offended if you say no.”

His words confused you, but as you stared at him, you couldn’t help but notice the way his pupils dilated whilst he stared back, lips slightly parted. You weren’t dumb, you knew what that meant. He wanted you the same way you wanted him.

Rather than responding, you closed the gap between both of you, his hands instantly moving to push the straps of your dress that you had failed to change out of down your shoulders.

Once you pulled away, breathless and half undressed, he chuckled quietly.

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He teased, but you ignored it and pressed your lips to his again in desperation.

Maybe it had always been him since you met him. Maybe your cheating ex-boyfriend was just what made you realise that.

One-shot (Cheating Heart) coming soon!

#resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil imagine #resident evil imagines #resident evil fanfic #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil smut #resident evil wesker #resident evil albert wesker #albert wesker #albert wesker x reader #albert wesker imagine #albert wesker imagines #albert wesker fanfic #albert wesker fanfiction #albert wesker smut #wesker #wesker x reader #wesker imagine

[rinhaler]

THERE'S NOBODY HERE

CHAPTER SUMMARY: So you're trapped in a cabin with your hot ex who you haven't seen in months as well as his hot friends. Now what? Party and make him jealous, of course.

ex-fiancé!rin x f!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, alcohol consumption, oui'd smoking, shotgunning, lots of flirting, sex talk/discussions, squirting mention, dry humping?? (grinding while dancing), rejection, pet names (baby, princess).

WORDS : 8.6k

notes : this series may be a flop but I like it 😭🫶🏽

       LAST CHAPTER┊MASTERLIST ┊ NEXT CHAPTER

Rin’s eyes lower from staring up at you, instead focusing on talking to his brother and the other guests as he comes into the cabin and finally shuts the door behind himself. They’re all catching up, it’s plain to see how close they all are and how happy they are to see each other.

Even Rin looks uncharacteristically happy to see everyone. Usually, the only thing on his mind is football and training. Maybe the holiday season is bringing out this new side of him.

Though you can’t help but feel a little nauseated. You know Sae is just as surprised to see him as you are, but still, if you trusted your better judgement, you wouldn’t have come just in case this happened. Your fingers curl around the banister tightly as you try to steel yourself.

“I can’t believe this.” you whisper to Chigiri, who runs a soft palm soothingly across your back.

“Come on.” he tilts his head towards the top of the stairs, suggesting you go and reassess the situation in the safety of your bedroom. He leads the way, and you follow hurriedly, not getting the chance to see Rin glance up at you disappearing. “It’s giving main character.” Chigiri can’t help but smirk as he shuts the door behind you both.

“It’s giving… I’m fucked.” you laugh back before screaming into a pillow. You pull it away, your hair messed up a little before Chigiri puts it back into place for you. “I literally can’t believe this is happening. So much for no Rin talk all week!”

“Oh fuck, I know. So much for a rebound, too.” he sighs. You do a fake little cry before genuinely groaning in distress as he thinks. “I mean, you could still do it, but it’ll just end up causing drama.”

“Yeah no way, maybe we should leave?” you suggest, and he doesn’t argue. It might be for the best, it’s an uncomfortable, unexpected change in circumstance and both of you can’t help but feel less welcome. “They’re his friends. We were only invited because he wasn’t supposed to be coming.”

“Plus we can spend the week together anyway since you managed to get out of seeing your parents.”

“Right!” you nod excitedly. “Okay, wanna help me pack and then I’ll help you?”

“Sure. But I don’t need help and I know you won’t help anyway.” he chides, laughing softly as he stands tall and looks around thinking about where to start.

Really, nothing gets done. You talk about packing, but you both end up sitting on top of the bed and gossiping more about what happened.

Rin Itoshi is here.

And you haven’t seen him since the breakup. That awful, painful breakup. Enough time has passed that the memory doesn’t feel as raw. But Christ it still hurts. You can still feel the way tears pricked at your eyes and flooded your lash line as you broke things off with him. They cascaded downwards with no sign of stopping as Rin begged and pleaded, sobbing to give him another chance.

You wanted to.

You remember how agonising it felt to deny him that chance. The fear in his eyes as he realised things weren’t going to be fixed with words and he really was losing you forever. The exact moment his heart broke into pieces will be etched in your mind for the rest of your life. The pain of that vision has dulled but is ever present.

And seeing him, now, look at you with such little care is like a knife tearing into your flesh. His lack of smile is like salt and bleach pouring into a fresh wound.

You do your best to hide a fresh tear rolling down your cheek from Hyoma, but it’s too late. He sits up on the bed and leans over to you to wipe it away. And you know what’s coming, a classic pep talk from him that always make you feel better. Even if he can be harsh, he always knows best.

Just as he’s about to speak, though, the door swings open.

“Oh, sorry, I didn’t— are you two a thing now?”

You shake your head, trying to conceal your red, watery eyes from Rin as he stands in the doorway. Hyoma objects. A little too much for your liking. But there isn’t a single indication of jealousy or relief as Rin listens to him speak.

The thought of you moving on doesn’t faze him at all.

“You’re in my room.” Rin tells you, and you nod.

“Rin! I was just about to tell you that your rooms been taken, you’ll have to—” Sae follows his brother into the room, looking at you with a slight look of sorrow as he can tell how upset you are. And if Sae has noticed, Rin definitely has.

“We’ll be gone soon.” you try to sniffle discreetly. You can’t bear looking at Rin, but your eyes meet his brothers as he cocks his head in confusion. “We were just about to pack and head home. You can have your room back, sorry.” you explain. The brothers watch you as you walk over to the wardrobe and begin collecting your clothes, and you’re thankful for the opportunity to hide your face and wipe your shimmering cheeks.

“You’re not serious, are you?” Sae asks, and all you can do is nod. “Rin was going to take the couch.”

“Was I?” he raises an eyebrow and grimaces at his brother who returns a scathing glare back at him. “Don’t leave on my account. I thought we were going to be mature about this.”

“This is being mature, Rin.” you sigh, finally looking at him. “This is your house. Your friends. It’s okay, it makes more sense for us to leave.”

“Chigiri, talk to her.” Sae requests, only to end up disappointed when Chigiri confesses that he agrees with you. He sighs, but tries to think of a solution. “Look, it’s gonna get dark soon. At least wait until morning? You’ve only been here for an hour or so, and you were excited for this. Things don’t have to change.” he reasons, watching you and Hyoma share a look as you consider it.

“It’s a long drive… icy roads… and he’s right about it getting dark.” Chigiri says to you, quietly, though the brothers can hear. You look at all of them as you think, but you focus on Chigiri as he continues. “Why don’t you move your stuff into my room and then Rin can have his own room?” he suggests.

You sigh, nodding. He starts helping you bring your clothes into his room rather than packing them away, and Rin drags his suitcase into his own room so he can unpack when you’re done.

Sae helps with your stuff, too, sticking around in Chigiri’s room to make sure you’re okay.

“I hope you don’t think I’m setting you up or anything…” he tells you, “I swear he told me he wasn’t coming. He actually told me he’d rather break both of his legs than come here.”

“It’s okay, Sae, I know. I trust you.�� you smile at him. Him and Chigiri work well as a team, pretty much taking over and not allowing you to lift a finger as they help you transfer your things to his room. “I still feel like I shouldn’t be here. I don’t feel great and I’m probably going to ruin the mood.”

“Not possible, Rin is the biggest buzzkill without trying.” he laughs, picking up the golden glittery dress Chigiri had noticed earlier. “We’re having a party tonight, definitely wear this.” Sae tells you, handing it to you.

You model in front of the standing mirror in the corner of the room and hold the garment up against your body. It’ll definitely turn some heads, for sure. And even if you can’t actually hook up with anyone, you’re sure you’ll get some attention either way.

“I’m going to town for another booze run, wanna come, Chigiri?” Sae asks, turning focus from you to your friend. Chigiri looks at you inquisitively, like he’s asking permission, but you only shrug.

“I should shower and start getting ready for tonight, anyway!” you tell him. “But you better be back in time to do my hair.” you poke out your tongue.

“Ugh you take forever.” he sighs, heading for the exit with Sae. “Go, go.” he mutters, walking ahead of him until he’s completely out of sight and down the stairs.

“Otoya is coming with us,” Sae tells you. “Ryusei will keep you company if you get lonely.” he smiles, leaving you alone with your thoughts and allowing you to ruminate on the fact you’re stuck in a house with your ex.

Chigiri isn’t back by the time you get out of the shower. You rush across the hall, a little deflated that you’ve downgraded to a room without an ensuite. Though you’re sure everyone is downstairs, your adrenaline is through the roof at the thought of being seen in just a towel.

You make it back to your room unseen, however, locking the door behind you when you get inside. You’ll have to hurry and get dressed in case Chigiri comes back. You’re sure he’s seen you naked countless times through your friendship when you’re too hammered to care, but the thought of him walking in on you with nothing on is too embarrassing to even think about.

YOU: are u still out?

CHIGIRI: yeah we’re heading back now tho

You put your phone away and start to lather yourself in all of your lotions and potions. You’re sure he’ll comment on how overpowering the smell of strawberries and coconut is when he returns but you can’t find it in you to care. You feel so smooth and sweet and invigorated.

There’s a short and vest pyjama set plaguing your mind that you bought brand new that you’re itching to wear. Though when you strip yourself of your towel, you realise you should have brought a dressing gown.

It makes you think about Ryusei.

You’re sure there’s a spare in his ensuite, or if not a spare, he might let you borrow his. You unlock the door to your room once you’re dressed in your barely there loungewear, shivering a little as water still drips and spills across your skin.

The corridor with each room is bare as you look up and down. Though as you walk towards where Sae said Ryusei’s room would be, you spot Rin poke his head out of his bedroom. He sees you, too, barely glancing at you for more than a moment before he goes back inside of his room.

Your stomach churns, nerves getting the better of you. But your eyes soon light up when you see Ryusei leave his own room. You want to call out to him, to run towards him, but he disappears just as quickly when he follows Rin into his room.

It makes you pause, unsure of what to do. You don’t particularly want to see Rin again, but you’d quite like to catch up with Ryusei.

You take a breath, and slowly approach. The door is ajar, though you don’t feel confident enough to reveal yourself. Instead, you rest against the wall. It’s not like you’re eavesdropping, you’re just working up the courage to talk to him.

“Crazy that she’s here.” Ryusei laughs. They’re talking about you, you realise. You slow your breathing and actively make the effort to listen in on their conversation, now. It’s icky and invasive and you hate yourself for it. But you can’t help yourself. You want to know what they’re thinking. Both of them. “How’re you feelin’ about it?”

“Well—” he stops, thinking. It goes silent for a while, and he begins moving around the room. It makes your heart race. Does he know you’re there? Is he about to close the door? You inhale a slow, silent breath, holding it in your lungs for as long as possible. “I’m seeing someone… so I don’t really care.”

“You are? You kept that quiet!”

“You never asked.” Rin responds without missing a beat. “We’re also not friends.”

Ryusei laughs at him, though he isn’t sure if he’s joking or not. They’re friends, right? They talk often enough, and Rin probably sees Ryusei more than he sees his own brother. They hang out a lot outside of practices and games, so he doesn’t doubt that they’re friends, despite what Rin says.

You feel your heart stop beating, you swear.

For the first time, maybe ever, Chigiri was wrong. Rin is seeing someone. He actually moved on. You can’t be mad; you have no right to be mad. Not when you ended things. If you cared about him so much, you wouldn’t have broken his heart. He has every right to move on, and so you do.

Though you can’t stop the way your heart aches. The way it bleeds each time it beats, it’s scarring with every thump. You feel the lashing of a whip lacerating it as it does all it can to keep you alive.

But you’ve died inside.

You can’t help the way your throat suffocates itself with a lump in a desperate bid to gain more oxygen. Your eyes are full. They’re wet and pitiful as you come to terms with the news. Maybe you thought you’d find your way back to each other one day.

After the breakup, he didn’t bother you at all. He took it terribly in the moment. But after, he seemed to shut down completely. Everything was so methodical and planned. He arranged to have his stuff moved out by movers and requested you wouldn’t be there. It was quick and seamless, and you never heard from him again after that.

It hurt.

It stung, in fact.

But in your mind, you hoped that things would change. Even up until now, you hoped you would both grow as people and maybe one day find each other again. You’d be ready to grow up and be who you each needed to be so that you could be together in the right way.

But that can’t happen, now.

You were too hopeful that he’d change for you.

You just gave him the freedom to be someone else’s.

The wood floor creaks as you try and stealthily sneak away, and it doesn’t go unnoticed by Rin or Ryusei. You hear Ryusei question if someone is there, and it makes everything worse. You quickly try and disguise your tears before you reveal yourself, pretending to be on the phone as you stand in the doorway.

“Sorry I was just talking to my dad and pacing around! Bye!” you tell them, hurrying away before either of them can call you out on it. You aren’t sure if they realised you were listening in, and truthfully, you don’t want to know. If either of them were to ask you, you think you’d have a breakdown.

You rush back to Chigiri’s room and lock the door behind you, and for a while, you manage to keep composed. Tears are flowing and you feel horrible about the situation, but you’re surprisingly calm.

“Hey, kiddo,” you hear a soft knock at the door. “Can I come in?” Ryusei asks. And that is when you begin to sob.

You go to the door and unlock it, opening it wide and allowing him to see your puffy eyes and soaking cheeks. He tuts, sorrowfully, wiping your cheeks with his thumbs as he enters the room. He closes the door behind himself again and locks it before guiding you to the bed.

The tears don’t stop, and he keeps wiping them away for you. It hurts. God, it fucking hurts. If you had some hindsight and known he’d move on this quickly, you never would have ended things. You’re realising a lot about the breakup and what a big mistake you’ve made, now. And it’s stupid and selfish and you hate yourself for it.

You know you weren’t happy at the time.

But you were a lot fucking happier than you are right now.

“You heard, then?” he asks. “What were you doin’? Eavesdropping doesn’t seem like you.”

“I— I wasn’t. Not really… I didn’t mean to.” you try to explain, still stuttering and sniffling through your words. He coos and shushes you, trying to calm you down so that you can speak and think clearly. He urges you to take deep breaths, and finally, you can explain. “I was coming to see you and then I saw you go into Rin’s room so I got nervous and hid.”

“Ah,” he nods. “Well, what did you want to see me for?”

“I just… wanted to know if you had a spare dressing gown.” you tell him half of the truth, the other half glued to your tongue and unwilling to be shared. Though his smile, his cheeky, almost intimidating smirk has you folding for him and confessing the rest. “’n I missed you, thought we could catch up.”

He pulls you into his arms and squeezes tight. He can’t even begin to tell you how much he’s missed you. Of course, you’re all busy doing your own thing, but he got to see you way more when you were dating Rin.

You have no idea how much he cherishes those moments you came with them when they travelled to away games. The pranks you played with him and the nights you spent up watching movies and learning more about each other.

He’s never crossed a line with you, ever.

But that doesn’t mean he hasn’t thought about it.

Rin is one of his closest friends. And, at the time, you were his. He’d never dream of making a move on you. He wouldn’t want to ruin his friend’s relationship and break the trust between them.

You withdraw from his hug, though. Your eyes shimmer and twinkle as they look into his wantonly. They’re so flirtatious yet stern in comparison to how wet and desperate your own look. The tension between you is rife, and you swear the only thing that can be heard is the way your heart pounds.

He doesn’t expect you to lean forward.

He doesn’t expect you to tilt your head and close your eyes as your face gets closer to his.

It takes him aback, his eyes widening in shock as he realises what you’re doing. His hands fly to your shoulders, and he pulls away from you, keeping you at arm’s length. You feel every organ plummet through your body as you realise what an idiot you are.

“Oh my God.” you sigh, moving away from him and covering your hands over your mouth in horror. How could you be so stupid? You’re stone cold sober and don’t have a single excuse to fall back on. You just threw yourself at him, and he didn’t give you any indication that he was interested.

“Hey, it’s okay! You’re just hurting, and I’m here.” he starts, getting closer to you and putting an arm around you before you shrug him off and walk away. “Things don’t need to be weird, baby, I understand.”

You scoff, looking at him briefly before your eyes fill with tears again at the sheer embarrassment. He stands up, desperate to hold you. To console you. But you don’t let him. Keeping him away as far as possible as you move away from him and push him, almost angrily.

A turn of the handle at the bedroom door makes you both freeze. The following knock at the door forces you to look at him.

“Don’t tell anyone.” you request, eyes pleading with him as you begin to panic.

He doesn’t speak, heading to the door to see who’s there. You’re relieved when it swings open, it’s Chigiri. He looks a little surprised to see you in your scanty pyjamas with Ryusei in the room. The latter of the men doesn’t say a word as he slips by him. Not uttering a sound or even looking at him as he goes back to his own room.

Chigiri comes in, quickly, locking the door again and setting down the shopping bag.

You see two glasses in his hand, quickly grabbing them and setting them down as he pulls out a bottle of rosé wine from the shopping bag. He holds it up, raising a brow, asking a silent question of whether you want to start the party early or not.

“Pour the drinks, bitch.” you tell him. He laughs, screwing off the lid as you grab your makeup bag and a few different eyeshadow palettes from your suitcase.

“Do I even want to know?” he wonders, holding your glass out to you. You take it from his hand as you walk by and sit at the dressing table with your makeup. He circles around you, grabbing his hair dryer so he can start doing your hair at the same time.

“I tried to kiss him.” you smile, sarcastically. “Tried being very important, because he was horrified. He couldn’t keep me far enough away, Hyoma.”

“Well… you are his friends ex, babe. Give him some credit.” Hyoma tries to reason. “There’s no way he wouldn’t kiss you back otherwise.”

“Oh! Speaking of my ex, he’s seeing someone.” you start laughing hysterically before fanning your hands in front of your face to try and stop yourself from crying. “Remember,” you laugh-cry again, “remember when you said he’s too focused on work to move on? Hahaha!” you continue, grabbing your wine glass and drinking every last drop.

“Oh boy.” Chigiri speaks, downing his own glass before topping them both up. Admittedly, you feel way calmer as he starts brushing your hair. His soft hands raking through your locks almost sends you to sleep. “Who told you?”

“No one, I accidentally overheard. Not that it matters.” you shrug. “We’re definitely leaving tomorrow. I can’t do this.”

“Fine.” he shrugs. “You know what you can do, though? Wear that slutty little dress you bought and give him a show. You’re literally a model, babe. What are the odds he’s found a hotter girlfriend than you? I bet she’s ugly.” Hyoma smiles.

God, he’s the best. He knows exactly the right thing to say every time you’re in distress. You wish you could offer the same support to him. But honestly, his life is pretty well put together. He rarely gets involved in drama. And even when he does, he always knows how to get himself out of it.

“Gonna get your hair looking perfect, okay? Wear that dress, grind on the guys, get wasted. And then tomorrow we can dip.” he explains, and you nod. “Who cares if he’s dating someone? You think he won’t get jealous if you dry fuck his friends?”

“No, you’re right.” you tell him before taking another drink. You aren’t sure if you’re feeling genuine confidence or if the blush pink liquid is rushing straight to your head. It doesn’t matter, though. Everything he’s saying is true. And you’re ready and raring to go. “He was so possessive when we were together.”

He nods, and you both clink your glasses together as you seem to have a solid plan prepared to set in motion.

Although, it’s half-baked as best.

Time flies as you get ready. Your makeup is settled on your face to perfection and Chigiri finishes off your hair, making sure there isn’t a strand out of place. He applauds as he admires his handiwork. He reaches for the bottle of wine, realising it’s empty as he goes to pour himself another glass.

“Fuck sake.” he mutters. He watches you as you stand up, the two of you finally notice the sound of loud music playing from downstairs as the room falls silent. You do a little dance as you strip down to nothing, not caring about your present company. “Oh we’re doing this.” he exclaims, turning away on instinct.

“Oh fuck I’m sorry, I forgot.” you laugh, and now you realise you’re definitely at the very least tipsy. He laughs too, noting how confident you are as you stand completely bare in front of him. It’s something you’re used to, honestly. Doing runway shows gives you no room to be embarrassed about your natural form. But for whatever reason, Chigiri makes you feel shy unless you’re drunk.

“I can’t believe you got a Hollywood wax you whore.” he laughs. “Trying to act like you weren’t trying to fuck but you were prepared!”

“You never know, Chigs~!” you sing a little as you walk to the wardrobe to grab the golden dress. You slip into it with ease. You aren’t allowing it to wear you, though. It’s yours and you own it. There is no doubt that you are the one wearing it, dominating it like it was created for your body and yours alone. “I can still hook up, y’know? We’re leaving tomorrow. Who cares if I stir the pot?” you shrug.

“Listen, if you call me Chigs one more time I’m gonna suffocate you with a pillow in your sleep.” he warns you, and you giggle as you slip into your high heels. He doesn’t dispute your point, though. This might be the last time you see any of these guys. Rin has moved on, and there’s no reason you can’t too. And while you’re at it, you may as well burn every bridge in the process.

“Let’s party.” you wink, opening the door.

You’re greeted to a cacophony of cheers and wolf whistles as you descend the staircase. The boys are scattered around. A few of them in the kitchen, while the others are in the lounge.

Otoya curls his finger from the kitchen, inviting you over to hang out with him and the others. You look over your shoulder towards the lounge. Ryusei and Rin are staring at you with an intense gaze. Of course there’s a chance Ryusei told him that you threw yourself at him, but you’re choosing to believe they’re admiring how hot you look instead.

“You look stunning.” Eita tells you, offering you a puff of his J as he holds it in front of your face. It’s been a while since you got high. You stopped when you started dating Rin, and you didn’t feel the need to pick it back up when you broke up. But, now, you have nothing to lose.

“Thank you.” you smile, accepting the weed and the compliment. You admire the lights as they change colour quickly, making you feel like you’re at a club. You immediately sink into a bar stool as you feel the drugs take hold of your body, weariness hitting you instantly.

Karasu lights another blunt and hands it to Chigiri, who smokes without hesitation.

“Do you want a drink?” Sae asks you both, looking between you as you get more and more comfortable in the group. Chigiri nods, walking around the counter to help him.

He knows what you like, after all.

“She looks fucking amazing.” Oliver comments, standing up from between Ryusei and Rin before he heads over to join all of the action in the kitchen. “Hi gorgeous,” he whispers in your ear as he places his hand in the small of your back. You smile, cheerfully, resting your body into his as he holds you close.

“Pace yourself.” Chigiri warns you, sliding your drink to you. You sniff it, realising he’s poured you some Malibu and coke into a cup. His warning goes ignored, however, as you drink two thirds of the drink before setting it down.

“I’m fucked.” you laugh, staggering a little as you walk beside Chigiri to get another drink. He looks concerned, but leaves you be for now. It takes all of your power not to look over to the only two men not hanging out with you right now. “Are they looking?” you whisper to Chigiri.

He looks, quickly.

“Mhmm.”

Your smile widens and you can’t help but laugh. Hyoma snatches the bottle from you as you go to pour a new drink. Oliver passes your original cup to you, and you beam as you remember you hadn’t finished it, though it’s gone in an instant.

“Real party girl, aren’tcha?” Karasu asks, putting his arm around your shoulder and forcing his blunt into your mouth. “You’ll be asleep before midnight I bet.” he challenges you.

You ignore him, turning to face him.

His eyes widen in realisation as he notices you’re keeping the smoke deep in your lungs. He closes the gap between your faces and his lips rest against yours, accepting the smoke back as you exhale it.

“Fuuuck, am I in love?” Karasu laughs as the exchange ends. He turns away, biting his lip slightly as you bend over the counter and rest your head in your hands. The skirt of your dress rides up a little, and Chigiri graciously tugs it down for you.

“Babe, stop,” he warns you, leaning over to whisper in your ear. “You’re gonna end up passing out.”

You gulp, nervously, feeling anxious under Chigiri’s intense eyes. You know he’s only looking out for you, but you can’t help feeling a little on edge. Sae comforts you, though, pulling you into his side like a protective big brother as he asks how you’re doing.

“Having fun?”

“Yes! Thanks for inviting us.” you smile.

“Glad you wore this one, suits you.” he nods. You watch him as he smokes beside you, and you decline when he offers you a puff. Chigiri, however, gratefully accepts without even being asked. Sae leaves your side in favour of sitting next to your best friend as they talk and bond over the joint.

You aren’t sure what to do, now. You feel a little deflated after Chigiri’s warning and you aren’t sure what to do with yourself. It seems like you shouldn’t drink or smoke anymore, but you’re brimming with so much energy you don’t particularly want to sit down.

“Hey, c’mere.” Eita orders, Oliver sits down next to him upon his request.

And when you approach, that is when Ryusei finally decides to come over. He smiles at everyone, but can’t seem to catch your attention as you’re too fixated on the two men with different tints of green in their hair.

Eita stands up when you hoist yourself onto the counter, and he slots himself between your open legs. Ryusei watches the scene unfold, anger bubbling at his jawline as he contemplates whether to intervene or not. His protective side roaring at him to get you away from the renowned playboys.

“Let her be.” Chigiri tells him, noticing his irritation. Ryusei sits down opposite to him, leaning over to chat quietly amongst themselves. Sae listens in, too, but only because he’s in close proximity. “I heard what happened. Did you tell Rin?”

“No, I didn’t.” Ryusei answers, though he doesn’t look happy about it. It feels like a betrayal to hide something so big from his friend, but he knows nothing good will come from sharing. “Oliver and Eita, they’re—”

“It doesn’t matter. It’s none of your business. She’s not looking for a boyfriend, she’s letting her hair down. So, whatever you’re planning, stop. Let her have fun. If you wanted her, you should have—” Chigiri stops himself when he remembers Sae is right beside him. He looks over at you, still being showered in attention by Eita and Oliver.

“Do you have feelings for my ex-sister-in-law, Ryusei?” Sae asks, laughing lightly before passing him the gross remainder of his blunt. Ryusei shrugs, smoking.

“’s complicated.” Ryusei announces, uncaring. He’s sure nothing that is discussed here tonight will be remembered come morning. “Rin! Get off your phone and come over!”

Rin flips him off and continues playing on his phone. You’re a little disappointed, but it can’t be helped. Karasu sits on the other side of Chigiri while Sae shuffles a deck of cards.

“Set up ring of fire, dude.”

“Ring of fire sucks.” you yell over your shoulder, though you giggle when Otoya’s fingers gently caress your chin and force you back to look at him. Oliver pours three shots for all of you, handing them to you and his friend. You drink them together, giggling even more when you feel the buzz rush right into your brain.

“What drinking games do you like, sweetheart?” Oliver asks, his hand resting on your thigh while his thumb softly strokes your skin.

You tell them that you like never have I ever the best, prompting Sae to call Rin over. Then, and only then, does he actually listen. Chigiri makes sure everyone has a drink, pouring something random for Rin as he takes a seat next to Ryusei and opposite to his brother.

It’s nice seeing the kitchen island so lively. In a weird way, you feel like a teenager again. Finding out someone’s parents are out of town and having a big, debaucherous house party while you play drinking games and get too fucked up to even know where you are.

Obviously you’re grown, now. And you like to think you’re a bit more responsible than you were back then. Though it’s likely it might just be Chigiri keeping you on the right path. He shoots a smile at you as Eita helps you down from the counter. Oliver moves one seat along and you sit between them, his arm is around the back of your chair while Eita’s hand remains firmly on your thigh.

“Who’s going first?” Ryusei asks.

“I’ll go, let’s start easy.” Karasu answers. “Never have I ever ate food.” you all laugh and everyone takes a drink. He nudges Chigiri to go next.

“Never have I ever had sex.” everyone laughs, drinking again. You and Rin exchange an awkward look before looking elsewhere.

“Horny, Chigiri? Onto the sex questions already?” Ryusei laughs.

“We all know people only play this for the sex questions so I’m just moving the process along.” Chigiri rolls his eyes before looking at Sae, assuming the questions are going around the table clockwise.

“Never have I ever eaten ass.” He drinks as soon as he finishes talking, and he smiles as Rin grunts, realising he stole his little brother’s question.

You watch Oliver and Eita either side of you drink as well as Ryusei. Karasu admits he hasn’t done it but it very open to trying it, earning a laugh from the group. Rin sits silently for a while as he tries to think of a question. It takes him too long, so Ryusei decides to take over.

“Never have I ever cheated.”

Oliver and Eita laugh before drinking. Chigiri hesitates, but drinks too. Everyone hoots and hollers as he flips them all off. In his defence, he got cheated on first, it was a revenge fuck! Though you don’t speak on his behalf, he doesn’t feel the need to defend himself.

“Never have I ever had a threesome.” Oliver laughs, Eita laughs too.

“Fuck you, man.” he chuckles as they both take a drink. Ryusei, Karasu and Sae all drink too.

“I feel so boring.” you giggle, “You two are gonna be drunker than me at this rate.” you tell the men either side of you.

“Maybe we can change your answer tonight.” Eita whispers into your ear. Rin and Ryusei stare daggers at the three of you, and it only makes you play into it more. Chigiri smirks when he looks over at Rin. His face is unchanging, but he can see that cold, calculated rage burning behind his eyes.

You turn to face Eita, your lips ghosting his before you face the rest of the group again. “Never have I ever been to a party at the Itoshi cabin.” you smile, everyone takes a drink, Rin drinking a heartier amount than everyone else before asking Chigiri for a refill.

“Never have I ever made a chick squirt.” Eita smirks as he drinks. Oliver joins in, and you can’t help but wonder if they shared a girl and gave them that experience. You watch on as Ryusei, and Rin drink, too. Your face flushes with embarrassment as Rin drinks and he looks at you again, averting your gaze and hoping nobody notices. “Fair play, Itoshi.” Eita nods towards Rin.

“Shut up.” he responds. “Never have I ever smoked weed.” he shrugs, reclining back in his seat while everyone else drinks. You can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he’s too focused on his phone rather than being entirely present in the moment with you all. You can’t help but wonder if it’s because he’s too preoccupied talking to his girlfriend.

“I was thinking we could do a secret Santa thing while we’re here, by the way.” Sae suggests, and Chigiri smiles at the idea. “We can all head to town together with a spending budget and find something.”

“That’s so cute!” you nod.

“We can’t do it.” Chigiri reminds you. “We’re leaving in the morning.”

“What?” Sae asks, quickly, and Rin is listening in carefully, now. His phone slotted into his back pocket as he observes your exchange. “I thought we figured everything out?”

You look at Ryusei, uncomfortably and gulp. His eyes soften as he realises you want to leave because of him, but he can’t say anything and start senseless drama. He doesn’t want you to go because of him. He doesn’t want you to go at all. However, he knows while everyone is intoxicated and tensions are high, confessing the reason will only lead to an unnecessary uproar.

“You— You should stay, kid.” is the most he can offer. “We haven’t had a chance to catch up properly, right?” he hopes you can take the hint. He can’t talk about it now, but there is definitely a discussion needed. You sigh, and nod.

“We should stay, Hyoma…” you smile at your best friend. And he looks relieved. He looks pleased that you’re spending a few more days with this crazy group and hopefully having more little parties like this. “And secret Santa sounds like a great idea, Sae.” you nod.

Sae smiles, excitedly. He pats Chigiri on the back and they laugh together happily. They start talking about the gift exchange and how to do it. Sae gets up in search of a pen while Chigiri tears up pieces of cardboard from a drink crate to write on. Sae hands him a pen, and they get to work writing down everyone’s names. Ryusei hands them an empty cup to put the names in.

“Just pass the cup around and take a name.” Chigiri tells the group as he draws the first name and passes the cup to Sae. Rin follows and then passes down to Ryusei. You, Oliver and Eita take your names and then Karasu gets the final piece of cardboard. “We good? Cool.”

“What’s the budget?” Rin asks.

“We’ll decide tomorrow,” Sae answers. “Just don’t forget or lose the name.”

“Does anyone want to dance?” you ask, swallowing the last of your drink. Oliver and Eita nod immediately, Chigiri shrugs and Karasu agrees too. The five of you head towards the lounge where the music is playing loudest.

Chigiri doesn’t dance, but he steps from foot to foot in time with the music. He keeps an eye on the grumpy gang still sitting in the kitchen while you take turns dancing on the three men giving you all of their attention.

You hadn’t expected to be so drawn to Eita, but his height and calm demeanour are pulling you in. His hand rests on your waist while you dance together, your ass pressed comfortably against his crotch.

He plays it cool, of course, whispering sweetly in your ear.

You watch Chigiri as he gets bored with the music, skipping the song to something more familiar.

“You’re a model, yeah?” Eita asks, directly into your ear canal. It makes you shudder, but you nod. “Show us.” he orders, though you’re sure it’s intended as a suggestion. They all seem entertained with the idea, though. No one more encouraging than Chigiri.

He’s your number one supporter, and you love him for it.

He looks a little taken aback as you move away from him, and your face turns expressionless yet sultry. You rise up the small steps that connect the lounge and the entryway, doing the best walk that you can towards the kitchen in your drunken state. You take your time when you get closer to Rin, Ryusei and Sae, posing for a while before turning back towards the other half of the guests.

They all clap and smile when you finish, your friendly, warm smile returning to you.

“That’s her drunk, imagine when she’s focused.” Chigiri hiccups, Karasu laughs with him. The two of them get to chatting and dancing again as they discuss the party thus far.

Oliver ruffles your hair and winks, heading back to the kitchen to get a refill.

“She’s good. She’s a little firecracker, isn’t she?” he laughs.

The siblings and Ryusei don’t say a word. As worried as Ryusei is about you, he tries to distract himself by talking to Sae and Oliver instead. Rin, however, can’t stop looking at you. You’ve stopped thinking about him, though. Your attention is entirely with Eita for now. Chigiri is taking it all in, on your behalf, making mental notes of things to tell you tomorrow.

Hopefully he won’t be too drunk to recall it come morning.

Eita squeezes your ass as you get closer to him. Rin stands up, finishing his drink and telling everyone goodnight. He heads up the stairs when he sees you and Eita almost share a kiss, your lips connect, though you break it before it can really be called a kiss.

“What’s wrong?” he asks.

You look towards the stairs, and you hate how Ryusei and Sae are looking at you. It’s like you’re so predictable and they know exactly what you’re going to do. You can’t help it, though.

“I’m sorry.” you tell Eita, running away from him and chasing Rin up the stairs.

Rin’s door is closed, but not locked. You feel slightly sober now that you’re here. Part of you regrets running away and leaving Eita behind, but you know you’d have regretted being so petty and hurting Rin in the morning. Especially now that you’re staying.

You knock on the door, and he doesn’t respond.

Really, you should walk away. He’s either sulking or trying to sleep. Maybe even both. Your better judgement is telling you that you should leave him to it. But you can’t. You’ve been trying to get a reaction out of him all night and you finally got it.

Girlfriend or not, you got what you wanted.

It has to mean something.

So you enter without permission. The room is dark, and there’s no sign of him on the bed. You see the balcony door slightly ajar, and the biting breeze confirms his whereabouts. Did he leave because he was tired? Or did he leave because he felt jealous?

Of course there’s a chance you could be overthinking, but you have to know for sure. Admittedly, discussing your feelings whilst drunk might not be the brightest idea. It doesn’t stop you, though. He knows you’re here when he hears your heels click against the wood flooring. He looks over his shoulder, he’s leaning over the balcony railing when you step out and see him.

“You’re in the wrong room.” he tells you, turning around and resting his elbows on the railing as he faces you. The dark night sky obscures most of his face, but the moonlight highlights him gorgeously. It makes your knees weak, and you can barely think of what you want to say.

“I know,” you tell him. “I just wanted to check on you.”

He scoffs, but nods. You stand beside him and look over towards the town. The cold, bitter wind makes you feel drunker. Part of you can’t believe you’re actually staying here after you were so adamant that you were leaving. The glittering lights of the snow-covered village makes you smile unintentionally.

It’s how you’d imagine Santa’s workshop, if he were real.

“Um… congratulations on the new girlfriend, by the way.” you start, instantly regretting bringing it up. You’re sure you’ll start crying if he starts fawning over her. You don’t even know her, but you hate her. You try to keep calm and remember Chigiri saying she’s probably ugly. At the very least she’s got to be less attractive than you. “I’m glad you found someone… I hope you’re very happy together.”

“We are.” he tells you, immediately. You gulp and it feels like swallowing glass. He’s always been blunt, it’s not because he’s particularly angry or bitter towards you. It’s just who he is. And still, it hurts. “Are you interested in Otoya?”

You’re frozen without a response. You aren’t sure whether to lie or be honest, though you fear he knows you too well and will know if you’re lying to him.

“He’s fun.” you shrug. His lips curls into a smirk at that. It tells him all he needs to know without you saying anything at all. You feel defeated, completely and utterly, as you look at his expression. “I don’t want to come between you and your friends, Rin.”

“I don’t care.” he shrugs, “Do what you want.”

His words are like bullets shredding through your skin. You do what you can to maintain your composure, trying to regain control of the situation and the conversation.

“I thought you might be upset when you left the party…”

“No,” he corrects you, his gorgeous teal eyes fixate on your own as he speaks. “I’m tired. I wanted to say goodnight to my girlfriend, but she must already be asleep.”

And, with that, you run out of willpower to continue talking. He sees how tears begin to prick at your eyes, and you try to walk away before they spill over again. You offer him a quick goodnight as you try to hurry back through the cabin and to yours and Chigiri’s room.

He stops you, grabbing your wrist and pulling you back out into the cold.

“You’re unbelievable.” he tells you, bending down so that your noses almost touch. His eyes bore into yours as he offers nothing but a harsh, callous stare. You want to run, but you can’t. His grip on your wrist is firm, and you’re worried the cold temperature will aid in any bruising. The strength of his hold isn’t painful, but the chill of your skin is intensifying it. “You broke up with me. Yet you have the gall to be jealous?”

“That’s not fair…” you whimper, but he’s right. You’ve been saying the same thing all day. Even before you knew he was seeing anyone, you knew you had no right to be upset considering you were the one who ended things. And yet, here you are, trying to defend yourself now that you’re suffering the consequences of your own actions. “I didn’t know you’d move on so quickly… I didn’t know I’d be seeing you again… I didn’t know it would h-hurt.” you hiccup, and you do your best to wipe away your tears with your free hand.

“You just wanted me to grieve forever, yeah?” he wonders. “You thought I’d be waiting in the wings for you, waiting for you to decide you want me back.”

“That’s not true, Rin,” you sniffle, “I care about you. I always will…”

“I don’t want you to.” he informs you. “You’re—”

“I think you still care about me too…” you interrupt him, looking down at the way he grasps harder onto your wrist as you speak. You look up at him again, his face somehow even closer to yours now. “Y-You can’t just turn feelings off that quick… I—”

“I’ve moved on. You’re moving on.” he tells you. “Fuck everyone here for all I care, princess.”

“Rinnie…” a tear silently rolls down your cheek as he calls you a name you never thought you’d hear spill from his lips in reference to you ever again. You can’t help but wonder if he calls his new girlfriend the same sweet names he once called you.

Rin is chillingly composed.

But if only you knew.

He feels a lump in his throat as he replays the way you said Rinnie to him, a nickname long forgotten since your breakup. A name he’d never allow another soul to call him for the rest of his days. It’s yours, all yours. It wouldn’t sound right coming from anyone else, he can’t imagine feeling anything but disdain hearing it from another.

You melt into his touch as he cups your face with his free hand, his thumb swiping at the spilled tear glimmering against your cheek. He looks down at you with a heavy-lidded stare, and you want him.

You miss him.

Especially like this.

His eyes so tired and heavy as he gives into his lust and claims you. Your eyes close completely as you feel his head tilt.

He does still care about you.

He’s going to kiss you. He’s going to cheat on his girlfriend for you. You weren’t far off on your suspicions, after all. He still cares. He might even still love you. You’re too drunk and delirious, though. Your eyes are closed and awaiting his kiss. His are barely open, lazily gazing at you knowing he isn’t about to give you what you so desperately crave.

“Goodnight, princess.” he whispers, the bitter scent of alcohol dusting across your face as he breathes.

You pull away, slowly, horrified that you’ve been denied of a simple kiss twice in one excruciating day. Your wrist is free, now. And he watches as you back away from him. He feels a little bad, but not much. He’s sure you’re only feeling a fraction of the pain and humiliation you put him through when you ended things.

He’s sure you can handle a little rejection.

“Goodnight, Rinnie.” you sniff, walking away calmly until you’re through his room and heading to your own.

You think about telling Chigiri. You even start walking down the stairs so you can cry on his shoulder. But you see him with the boys. His smile is so wide, and he looks really happy. You don’t want to ruin his night, too.

Eita looks up at you, though you don’t catch him looking. You’re too focused on yourself and Chigiri. You don’t notice him follow you as you ascend the stairs. He waits outside of your room as you decide you ought to go to bed.

You don’t even have the energy to take off your makeup or your dress. All you can do is shake your feet until your shoes fly off in different directions. Your body breaks out in goosebumps when you hear a soft knock at the door, and you can only hope your disappointment isn’t obvious when you realise it isn’t Rin coming to talk to you some more.

Eita holds up a joint, offering it to you.

You’re pretty much sober, now.

You’re surprised you haven’t burst into tears, too. So, you nod. You accept his offer, gratefully, hoping you’ll slip off into a blissful sleep once you finish smoking. Eita closes the door behind him, locking it so you won’t be disturbed as he sits on the bed beside you.

© 2023 rinhaler

#rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #rin itoshi x you #itoshi x reader #itoshi smut #itoshi rin x reader #itoshi rin #rin itoshi #blue lock #bllk #bllk x reader #blue lock imagines #blue lock x reader #blue lock smut #itoshi rin smut #bllk smut #bllk x fem!reader #tw angst #exes to lovers #tw alcohol consumption #tw drug use

[mimsynims]

Fool For Love

part 2

~~~

part 1

~~~

Author’ Note: For one, I’m still on my first play-through and this will definitely stray from canon, but hopefully some things will give a nod to some of the actual events in the game. (Also there will be no Wyll or Minthara because I haven’t gotten to know them for…reasons 👀)

(As for when this takes place, I’m thinking around late act 1, early act 2-ish)

~~~

Astarion x reader/Tav

Tags: (mild?) angst, pining, pining while fucking, jealousy, eventual happy ending

Summary: You thought knew what you were doing when you let Astarion into your bed. He doesn’t have feelings for you, and vice versa. Only… Now you do. And the question is, how will you deal with it?

~~~

“Have you been crying, Tav?”

Fuck. You should’ve known Karlach would notice. “Yes,” you admit, knowing it’s no use lying. “Nightmare,” you add, because it’s not entirely untrue.

“Ah, yeah, that’ll do it.” The hand Karlach places on your shoulder feels reassuring. Supportive without a speck of judgement. “I’m here if you ever want to talk about it, you know.”

You smile, because you don’t know what you have done to deserve such a great friend like her. “Be careful,” you laugh, “otherwise I might take you up on that offer.” Gods knows you’re in need of someone to confide in. It’s just that you’re not a hundred percent sure she’s not one of Astarion’s other conquests.

“My tent is always open for you, Tav. I hope you know that.” Karlach’s soft smile quirks into a grin as her eyes shift to look at something over your shoulder. “Oh, hi, Fangs. Trying to sneak up on Tav, are you?”

“And a good morning to you too, Karlach.” You don’t need to see him to know that he’s rolling his eyes. “Of course not, I just did not want to break up what looked like an intimate moment.”

Strange. Underneath the snark, Astarion almost sounds… jealous. That doesn’t make the least bit sense, so you brush the notion away.

“Nothing intimate about it,” you press out. “Just Karlach being a good friend.” One deep breath, and then you turn around to face him. It takes all of your determination, but you make sure to keep a neutral expression. Except you catch his eyes narrowing, and too late you realise that he, too, notices the small but telling signs of the tears you shed not even an hour ago. Unlike Karlach, he keeps his thoughts to himself, because of course he does. You’re not even sure why you’re not surprised, but deep down you knew he wouldn’t acknowledge it.

You momentarily stop breathing when the truth slams into you like a blow to the gut: he doesn’t care enough to ask. Or if he does, asking could mean complicating things he wants to keep simple.

“Tav?”

You hear Astarion addressing you, but you’re stuck inside your own head now. Of course he doesn’t want to know. Freedom and survival are the key factors driving Astarion in everything he does, and getting entangled with you beyond pleasure and safety — and feeding — could compromise both of those things. While he probably does consider you a friend at this point, it’s only surface-level. In all honesty you can’t blame him. After all he’s been through, trust doesn’t come easy to him.

You could hold a grudge for the lies he told you, but the truth is, you went into this with your eyes wide open. You could’ve called him out on it, but you were so curious about what it would lead to that you let him believe that you were fooled.

“Tav?”

A cool hand on your arm snaps you back to the here and now.

“Sorry, did you say something?” He’s eyeing you warily, and you wonder fleetingly how he would react if you told him the half-lie about the nightmares.

Astarion’s brow twitches as he opens his mouth to speak. “Tav–”

“Gooood morning, everyone!”

Gale. Of course. “Good morning, Gale.” Not letting yourself ponder what Astarion might’ve been meaning to say, you fling yourself at the opportunity of a new topic of conversation as if it was the last potion of healing in an otherwise empty pouch. “Aren’t you chipper this morning?”

“I saw a falling star just before going to bed last night, and it felt like a sign that this day would be an exceptionally good one.”

“I hope you’re right.”

“Speaking of.” Lowering his voice, Gale slides closer to your side. “I was thinking of doing some stargazing tonight. Want to join me? The sky should be clear enough for it.”

You can feel Astarion’s eyes on you. “Sure,” you hear yourself say, immediately regretting it.

“Perfect!”

“What’s perfect?”

Saved by the Tiefling. “Gale says tonight should be perfect for stargazing.” When you turn around to face her, there’s no Astarion in sight. That should feel like a relief, and yet, you can help but worry. Why that is is beyond you, but the guilt is still there, confusing you even more.

“That’s not–”

“Why don’t you join us? We can ask the rest of the group too.”

“Excellent idea, Tav!”

“Mm, yes. Excellent.”

Gale sounds disappointed, but it’s better this way. If you were more callous you would use Gale to try to get Astarion out of your system and out of your heart, but that is out of the question now. During your weeks together, he has become a friend. They all have.

Perhaps you can find yourself a handsome druid when you all go back to the Grove to trade with the merchant Arron later today. If for nothing else, you desperately need to work on your flirting game because it has never been your strong suit to begin with.

“Tav?”

“Yes, Halsin?” You don’t know it, but the druid can tell that something is troubling you.

“Are you alright?”

“Yeah, never been better.” If you keep saying it out loud you might perhaps believe it at some point.

“Right.” His seemingly all-knowing eyes scan you up and down, making you feel like he can see into the deepest parts of your heart and mind. You’re not entirely sure that he can’t. “I heard from Karlach that you’re going to the Grove,” he continues after a moment of heavy silence. “I have other business to attend to today, but I wanted to ask if you could do me a favour while you’re there.”

Your body relaxes with relief. “Yes, we are. What do you want me to do?”

The fictitious druid can wait for another time.

~~~

#astarion ancunin #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 fic #bg3 spoilers #bg3 tav #bg3 astarion #fic wip

[crimsonred-hi]

Style, or lack there of

Pairing: Andrew Hozier-Byrne x Reader

Warning: it’s really short

Summary: Where did Hozier suddenly get all his style from? He comes out of his 4 year hiding for ‘Unreal Unearth’, all the flannel have been replaced with shirts and all his jeans have been replaced with nice trousers. Why? Because he got a girlfriend, who doesn’t let him walk out the house looking like a butch lesbian even though that look was a slay

“Seriously, I can back my own bags for tour, I’m not 5…”

He grumbles as he sits on the bed he shares with his beloved, watching as she neatly and tightly folds clothes for his suitcases. Arguably, he definitely could have done it by himself, but he knows better than to disagree, y/n said she would do it. End of.

He watches as she puts an all black suit in case, and he gets ready to argue, but she talks first.

“Just, stop. I’m not letting you, in right mind, walk around wearing a blazer and a random graphic t-shirt. You’ve got nice clothes, and you’re gonna wear them. You’re doing more fan things this tour, don’t you want to look presentable for your fans.”

She’s right. God, she’s right. He thinks to himself. He loves her to bits, but sometimes she cares too much, he’s never given two shits what people think about how he looks. Usually, he just packs two formal outfits and moves on, but every thing she’s packing is nice, except for his jumpsuit, which she loves to see him in so it gets the pass to get into the suitcase.

“y/n…. Why are you so obsessed with me dressing nicely?”

“Trust me, Bear, just trust me judgment.”

Great, now he can’t argue because she called him ‘bear’, this is a loosing battle for him, so he just gives in, move to do something else. Deciding to trust her judgement.

Despite his reluctance, his new wardrobe was a hit in his fans, they love his new style how he dress so well. All because of his girlfriend being stubborn and always right.

So when he gets home for his first little visit of the tour, he’s sat on the couch, you cuddled into his side as he plays with the hair on your nape.

“Ya know… that little wardrobe you insisted I should have….. apparently the fans were really loving it…”

His voice is low, his lips pushed into your hair so he’s made to mumble. You can’t help but laugh, because you were right, so you have to say it,

“I told ya so.”

“Yeah… ya told me, honey…”

He mumbles into your hair, smiling at the warm silence of your shared home. A silence that is only made better by each other’s presence.

#hozier x reader #andrew hozier byrne #hozier oneshot #hozier #hozier imagine #short #really short I’m sorry about how short it is

[nothankyoudear]

If Arthur has learned one thing from his father's teachings, it is to not trust.

For friends all eventually part ways, and lovers all end in tragedy. They are both nothing but human, and if there is one thing that humans do best, it is to betray. 

Arthur carries that with him for the entirety of his childhood, and by the time he is well into his teens, he is alone except for a few that his father has deemed as suitable playmates.

It all changes when he meets Merlin.

Merlin is nothing like any of the friends that Arthur has had - He insults Arthur with a glint in his eyes, and is confident as he tells the crown prince off in aid of a servant. Arthur feels a pang in his chest and reacts the only way he knows how. By taunting Merlin and throwing him off into the dungeons.

Arthur turns in his bed that night, sleepless. He thinks of Merlin’s sarcastic remarks and blue eyes, and wonders if he might’ve ruined the only chance he had at something with the resemblance of a friend.

The next time they meet, Merlin shoves past Arthur at the market, and Arthur panics. He wants to reach out and apologize and offer Merlin gifts in sincerity, yet his mouth and pride act before his mind, and once again he goes back to taunting.

Arthur doesn’t sleep that night, for fate has given him another chance at befriending this strange boy, and he has failed her twice. Arthur has lost the privilege of being someone other than his title.

But she is continuously merciful, as by a strange series of events, Merlin is assigned as his manservant. 

Arthur cannot stop himself from smiling when he is insulted once more.

As the years pass, Arthur gets closer and closer to Merlin. And when he finds himself comforted by Merlin's presence as he is laying down logs in the fireplace one night, he is terrified.

Because Merlin treats him as Arthur, the royal prat and downright pain in Merlin's arse, and not Arthur Pendragon, the prince of Camelot. Arthur is treated like a human for what is possibly the first time in his life, and he reacts like one.

Arthur has broken the one rule given to him by his father, and with every time he sleeps next to Merlin or eats whatever Merlin has cooked for him, Arthur has silently and unknowingly placed his life into the palms of Merlin's hands.

Arthur trusts Merlin, and he is terrified.

He knows that Merlin doesn’t have it in his blood to be unkind (he stood up to a prince for a servant, for gods’ sake), yet he cannot resolve the thoughts of Merlin leaving him behind now that he has Arthur between his fingers. The idea of betrayal and sorrow drives itself into Arthur’s mind to the point of madness, and he knows it’s because he’ll be rendered helpless if Merlin really does turn his back on him.

Arthur thinks of distancing himself from Merlin, but even the thought pains him too much. So instead, he resigns to his fate and leans into Merlin like a moth to fire.

Merlin tells Arthur about his magic one cold night.

His voice is soft and his hands are shaking. His eyes never stray from Arthur’s expression. 

Arthur’s mind is muddled and although he knows he should be feeling a sense of betrayal, of how his father was and always had been right in his judgement not to trust, a raw feeling of elation dances across his skin instead.

Because Merlin trusts him back.

Arthur has handed his life over to Merlin through sips of stew and naps during hunting trips, and Merlin has handed it right back.

Merlin is a sorcerer, and instead of executing him, Arthur kisses him.

They lay in bed together that night, huddled underneath the thick red blanket in Arthur’s chambers. Arthur tells Merlin about his fear of betrayal and his father’s teachings. He tells Merlin about how he’s wanted nothing more than to be seen as a real, living person with something else other than his surname, and about the sleepless nights Arthur’s spent thinking about him.

Arthur tells Merlin he loves him, and Merlin says it back.

Merlin sleeps before him, and in the silence Arthur can’t help but think of his father’s teachings. He can't help but think of stories of anguish and sorrow and pain.

Yet it all dissipates as he takes one look at Merlin’s lips, and hears the soft inhale from his sleeping figure. And as Arthur lays besides Merlin, he wonders how his father had ever thought betrayal was the thing that humans did best, when it had always clearly been love. 

#arthur has trust issues lol #i can never let arthur have a break can i #this is lowkey shit bc i wasnt thinking while writing this but thats ok #merlin #merlin bbc #merlin emrys #merlin x arthur #arthur x merlin #arthur pendragon #merthurweek2022 #merthur #bbc merlin #merlin/arthur #arthur #uther pendragon's a+ parenting #oneshot #ficlet #merthur headcanon #headcanon #my writing #my posts

[delta-piscium]

I wrote this in September and it’s been collecting dust in my docs and staring back at me with judgement whenever I post or write something else so here 

“Steve” a familiar voice shouts across the room.

Steve turns around, and there, on the other side of the crowded room is Tommy. It really shouldn’t be as big of a shock to see him as it is. Steve is at a house party on a Friday night, it would have been weirder if Tommy wasn’t here. But still, that doesn’t mean he’s prepared to see him, they basically haven’t talked in three years, ever since Steve ‘chose’ Nancy over him and Carol (aka finally dropped them because they were horrible and didn’t drop Nancy because she isn’t). 

Still, he plasters on a smile, making it as polite as he can, and waves. Hopes it will be enough but of course, it isn’t. Tommy starts weaving through people, pushing and elbowing his way toward Steve.

“Its been ages,” he says clapping his hand on Steve’s shoulder, “how have you been man.”

Steve resists the urge to shrug his hand off, but it’s a close thing. 

“It has.” Steve doesn’t add ‘because you’re an asshole and I hate who I am around you’ and he feels very mature for it. “I’m good.” He very deliberately does not ask Tommy how he’s been. 

“Me too, me too.” He responds anyways, at least he finally removes his hand from Steve’s shoulder which makes him relax marginally. “Still dating Nancy?” 

And, okay yeah, he and Tommy haven’t really spoken since he and Nancy were still together but Hawkins is a small town and he’s sure Tommy knows that Nancy had both broken up with Steve, gone on to date Jonathan for two years, and recently broken up with him as well. Actually, he thinks he remembers a shower conversation with Billy just days after she dumped him and went off to Murray with Jonathan, a conversation that Tommy was also present for.

“No, we broke up years ago.” He dutifully replies anyways, because what else can he say? 

“Yeah, heard she dumped you?” 

Steve is gonna remain calm, play along in whatever game Tommy is playing, and not react. 

“She did,” he agrees easily.

“And got with Jonathan right after? Should have listened to us and stayed away.” He grins as he speaks, grins as if Steve is gonna agree with him. 

“We’re still friends,” Steve shrugs, letting the fall of Tommy’s smile bring one to his own lips.

“Was for the best that we broke up, we’re much better as friends.” 

Tommy squints a bit, his hackles raising and Steve only notices because he once knew him so well. Why he’s still getting defensive talking about Nancy Steve doesn’t know.

“Oh Stevie, you still hung up on her huh?” 

It’s deliberate, he’s trying to press Steve’s buttons. ‘Well, tough Tommy-boy.’ Steve thinks, ‘those ones don’t work anymore, have been defunct for ages. You’re gonna have to do better than that if you want a reaction.’ 

“Nah,” he says, lets his smile be a bit more genuine when he continues, “she’s great but I’m dating someone else.” 

“Rebound?” Tommy whistles, “she hot?” 

Why Tommy is convinced Steve is still pining after Nancy he can’t say, or maybe it’s the only angle he has on Steve nowadays? Except they basically lived in each other's pockets all through high school and if Tommy really wants to get under Steve’s skin there are other things, better things. Things he has used against Steve before and seen the effect of. Why he isn’t he using them now when he clearly has some agenda Steve can’t say.

Steve is about to respond, has his mouth open and ready to speak when someone calls his name again. Thankfully this time the source is a lot more pleasant. 

Tommy turns around to see who it is, completely exposing his back to Steve. It’s probably the last few years of fighting hell monsters that has ingrained a distrust in Steve. Making him hyper-aware of his surroundings and never willing to leave his back open like this to people he doesn’t trust. He knows this but still, he thinks there should be some primal instinct in Tommy to stop him from making himself so vulnerable to Steve, the action speaks of leftover trust that Steve isn’t ready to face. 

“Munson? You know Munson?” He turns back around, an incredulous look on his face.

It snaps Steve out of his thoughts and reminds him Eddie had called for him. He leans to the side, stretching out so he’s visible behind Tommy, catching Eddie’s eye and waving him over.

“I do, yeah.”

Tommy’s face twists into something Steve can’t immediately place. He recognizes it, knows he’s seen Tommy make that face before. It’s not disgust or confusion but maybe something in between? Before he can figure it out it clears.

“Oh, King Steve getting drugs? Who would have thought?” 

Steve rolls his eyes, the only reason he had stopped smoking weed for a while in high school was because athletes got tested. Why Tommy is pretending Steve ever had some moral issue with it now is beyond him but not much of this interaction has made sense to him so far so what’s one more thing?

“What Steve doing drugs? He’s a very responsible young man and would never” Eddie says, twisting past the last couple of people.

“Right Stevie? You wouldn’t touch the stuff?” Eddie–knowing very well that Steve would in fact ‘touch the stuff’–asks. 

“Not with a ten-foot pole.” Steve–who smoked yesterday–deadpans. 

“Knew I could trust in you to stay a good boy.” Eddie coos as he steps into Steve's space and kisses him despite where they are. It’s quick enough that no one who isn’t watching would catch it though and the only one who is watching is Tommy. When Steve looks back at him his face slack with shock. 

“Hagan,” Eddie says with a short nod. 

“You-?” Tommy looks between them, that same look as before flashing on his face, still just out of Steve’s grasp.

Steve contemplates what he should do for a second but Tommy already saw them kiss, already knows. And honestly, Steve doesn’t really care what he thinks and he knows Tommy won't say anything. Steve has too much dirt on him.

“Oh sorry, Tommy this is my boyfriend.” His voice is deceptively sweet as he introduces Eddie as if that’s what Tommy had been getting at.

Steve turns to Eddie, “baby, you know who Tommy is right?” 

He’s laying it on thick, asks despite Eddie greeting him by name two seconds ago. Knows others' unabashed confidence and being on the outside are things Tommy can’t handle.

“I think so,” Eddie plays along, “you were friends once right? Before you found better people?” 

It’s mean but Steve wouldn't have thought too much of it if it weren’t for the wounded noise Tommy makes. When Steve looks at him again his face is cracked open and it finally clicks what that expression is.

“Aw, you jealous?” Eddie says in a mocking tone, hitting the nail on the head because that’s exactly what that expression is, jealousy. 

It’s the same look he had whenever Steve told him about a new girl, the look he’d have when Steve started bringing Nancy around. It’s deeper though, not only jealousy. He also looks like he did when Steve told him and Carol to leave him alone. He doesn’t just look jealous, Tommy looks heartbroken. 

He tries to pull it together, scrunching his nose up in disdain, and scowls at them. Quickly looks away from Steve when their eyes catch and his mask falls a bit, instead focusing on Eddie who raises one eyebrow in response. 

“Hardly,” he scoffs, it comes out strained, “I would love to stay and chat but-” 

He doesn’t elaborate, just turns on his heel and disappears into the crowd.

Steve is frozen to the spot, a war going on in his head. Puzzle pieces he didn’t know were missing falling into place.

“Come on, let's get out of here.” Eddie grabs Steve’s wrist and starts pulling him outside, away from the party. He gets them in his car and doesn’t try to speak to Steve, probably sensing he’s having some earth-shattering realizations right now. 

“He liked me,” he finally manages to say. “That’s why he hated Nancy so much. He was...” he trails off, knows it’s true but can’t quite say it.

“Jealous,” Eddie finishes softly.

“You knew?” Steve asks because Eddie doesn’t sound or look surprised at all.

He shrugs, “I had my suspicions.”

“But how-”

“We looked at you the same,” his smile is wry, self-deprecating, “I recognized it.”

And Steve can’t really process this right now even though he knows it’s true so he grasps at straws, “Carol, he was with Carol?”

Eddie reaches out one arm and cups his face in his hand, glances at him quickly before he looks back at the road with a sad smile.

“If you’re in love with your best friend, your male best friend who you believe is straight, you do what you need to do to push it down, to hide it. Especially in high school and in a small town.”

“In love?” Steve rasps because he’d said ‘like’.

“Yeah, sweetheart. In love.”

Eddie brushes his fingers under Steve’s eye and he realizes it’s because he’s crying.

“I’m sorry,” he says, “I don’t know why I'm reacting like this.” 

And it’s true, he really doesn’t understand why it feels like a big hole has opened in him. He never liked Tommy, not like that, yet it feels like he’s lost something, fucked something up.

“He used to be your best friend, it’s a big thing to realize.” Eddie parks outside of his trailer, turns to Steve making no move to get out of the car. “Kind of changes everything, or at least puts it in a new context, explains some things.”

Steve feels the blood drain from his face because he’s suddenly remembered something and oh god does it put it in a new fucking context.

“Baby?” Eddie asks when Steve sits frozen again.

“We used to get wasted and make out,” he whispers the words, shame coursing through his veins.

Eddie goes still and Steve rushes the explain.

“Not often and not after he got with Carol, just,” he takes a shallow breath, “It happened a few times. We’d steal my dad's whiskey and get so beyond drunk and, well, kiss a lot.” 

He’d smile at the memory if he wasn’t so horrified by it at the moment. 

“The first time Tommy had never kissed anyone, asked me to teach him so he wouldn’t fuck it up when it mattered. Then after that it just kind of continued to happen. We’d get drunk, make out, and pretend like nothing. It stopped when he started seeing Carol, he tried but I stopped him. Told him he didn’t need to practice now when he had the real deal. We never talked about or even mentioned it.”

Steve sees Eddie’s arms shake and when he looks up he sees Eddie holding back laughter, eyes filled with barely concealed amusement.

“Are you laughing right now?”

Eddie stops holding back, letting the laughter burst out of him and Steve is so confused because he thought Eddie would be mad at him. He’s not sure why, it’s just that this has been such a deeply buried secret wrapped in shame for years with a big ‘do not talk or even think about it’ sign placed in front of it. That it would be met with laughter was never a possibility.

“I’m sorry,” he gasps through it, “It’s just such a cliche.”

Steve’s confused face only makes Eddie laugh harder. When he calms down he takes Steve's face in both his hands holding him firmly and looking him in the eyes.

“Steve, baby, sweetheart. Tommy used the oldest trick in the book on you, asking you to teach him how to kiss and you did it multiple times because what? he needed practice? That’s the flimsiest excuse to gay kiss your best friend and it’s also fucking done, it’s a cliche.”

Steve blinks, realizes that while he never had feelings for Tommy he had definitely found him attractive, had enjoyed kissing him. Had very deliberately not thought too deeply about his or Tommy's motives because that would have made it something he would have had to face.

“Oh,” he says.

Eddie smiles, wide and warm, “yeah, oh.”

“You don’t think I used him?” Steve has to ask, “if he had feelings for me and I didn’t have any for him.”

“No,” Eddie says, “not more than he did you. And you were kids, just messing around and trying to figure yourselves out in a not-very-accommodating world.”

Eddie squints a bit in thought, “though he probably thought you were more on the same page, that you could continue even though he was with Carol. Must have stung to be rejected.”

Steve snorts, “wasn’t really interested in helping anyone cheat, even under all the pretenses.”

“I know.” 

Eddie's eyes are soft, looking at him with so much warmth that Steve momentarily forgets what they were talking about until Eddie's mouth twists into a sly grin.

“I can’t believe your first gay experience was with Tommy fucking Hagan.”

Steve gives him an unimpressed look, “at least I didn’t come in my pants ten seconds in, like some people I know.”

Eddie draws back, clutching his chest with his hands, “harsh words, love. It was at least a minute.”

#the amount of times i used the word realize- Steve in this and kylie jenner in 2016 #🤝 realizing so much #listen Tommy being in love with Steve and them kissing as teenager just takes up such a specific part of my brain always #like look at them- they would okay #don't ask me what this is beyond that #Steve and Eddie are assholes together b #but only (mostly) when it's deserved #Dels steddie thoughts #My writing #my post #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #steddie #steddie fanfic #steve x eddie #tommy hagan

[bipp-bopp-time-to-stop]

Kaleidoscope

I finally got Four's spotlight fic done. To be honest, he's one of the harder characters for me to write given that I just don't know much about him (game wise) and that handling the Colors can sometimes be rather complex. Still, I did my best to portray our favorite littlest man of the Chain. I hope you all enjoy!

TW: Yandere themes, Neglect, Mental Breakdown (Four), Talk of/ descriptions of blood and gore, Use of brightly colored text, All is Not Okay in Fourville

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It was secret to none that Four was picky and rather strict when it came to handling weapons and armor. While the usual victim of his scolding was Wild and his reckless use of his equipment, he wasn’t afraid to chew out anyone else. Plus, he wanted to make sure for himself that the tools and weapons at the group’s disposal were in tip-top shape. Besides, daily maintenance was something he could do blindfolded.

So, when Time came over to poke around at what he had in his bags, Four was instinctually on edge. He knew well that Time wouldn’t abuse the weapons he had stored away, but he knew the purpose for his perusal.

“Do you have anything blunt? Like a mace or hammer? Warhammer, even? Anything that’s a spare will do, honestly…” Time finally questions as he looks the little smithy in the eye. Four lifts the sword he had been sharpening off of the grindstone before him and puts it to the side to show Time that he’s listening and thinking. After tapping on his chin for a bit, Four slowly nods.

“I have a mace and a warhammer. Both need some fixing up, though. So our… newest arrival will have to wait a few days before they can be armed,” Four answers. His eyes flicker over to the other side of the camp where you, along with a few others, were “training”. Wars and Sky were trying to take it more seriously; one was beside you to help adjust your… everything, really, and the other was your sparring partner. The rest that were huddled around were smiling and laughing at just how clunky you were with a sword in hand. It seemed like you were out to prove that people could have two left hands rather than feet.

“Whatever you can get will work. They may not have finesse, but they do have an arm. I suppose they’ll just have to loot weapons from monsters for the moment. Or see if they can get Wild to fess up any bokoblin clubs,” Time tutted while also watching the scene. Four nodded and hummed in agreement before swifty going back to what he had been doing. Time left to go supervise the rest to make sure no one was getting too rowdy and Four was now left by himself. Well, selves.

“I don’t trust them as far as I can throw them! And with how big they are, I couldn’t do it far!”

“I can’t really tell what to make of them. Everything they’ve told us about who and what they are seems genuine…”

“Let’s not put much faith in them at the moment. They’re no Hero of Courage, they barely know how to protect themselves, and their whole presence here is accidental. They’ll undoubtedly either split from the group, find their own way back home, or die.”

“Do we have to be so harsh on them? Even in the face of our judgements, they’ve still been kind and understanding!”

Safe to say that Four was, and would easily remain, uncertain of your presence. Experience told him that the nicest faces and friendliest smiles could still put a knife in your back. A part of him- a very small part, he had to emphasize, wanted to believe that you were truly genuine. Whether or not you were or were just putting on a convincing act, Four was ready to respond how he deemed just.

“Hey! Uh, Four, right? Time said that you may have some weapons for me to use?” You spoke up as you approached the little smithy. He was perplexed as to why Time had sent you over when Four had just told him the weapons wouldn’t be ready at the moment. Given how the oldest member was currently talking with the rest of the group about something he couldn’t make out, Four surmised that it was his turn to watch you.

“Give me a moment to get them. They aren’t in the best shape right now, but you can at least give them a few test swings,” Four finally responded. He got up to go dig through his supply of spare weapons to find the aforementioned mace and warhammer. They weren’t hard to find as their state was an absolute eye sore. The metal heads of the weapons were rusted over and the leather strapping on the mace’s handle was coming undone. There were some noticeable splinters along the wooden body of the warhammer- to the point he may have to ask Sky in helping him create a new one. Their sorry states were enough to embarrass Four. Spare weapons or not, this was unacceptable!

“Oh, uhm… I can come back for them later. I don’t want to break them,” You mutter and give Four a sheepish smile. It only makes the deepening blush of embarrassment on his face worse.

“You can give them a few swings, at least,” Four allows although he knows well it’s not a good idea. It’s clear that you know it too due to your hesitance, but you don’t let it stop you from picking up the warhammer first. Due to its splintering body, its impossible to wield it properly without gloves to protect your hands. As such, you only get a few swings out of it before it slips from your grip and lands on the ground with a thud.

“Okay, uhm… sorry…” You mumble before picking up the mace to try instead. Whereas it may have been a sizeable mace in the hands of a Hylian, it seemed far more normal sized in your hands. Based on your nearly white knuckles as you gripped the mace, you didn’t plan on letting it slip from your grip this time. Four still made sure to give you your room.

As you swung around the mace, it was clear to Four that Time hadn’t lied about your arm. Even if you said you had lived a rather quiet and mundane life beforehand, it was obvious your human genetics were on your side. With enough training, Four could see you trading blows between a Gerudo or a Goron.

With a cry, pop, and then another thunk, the head of the mace was on the ground. The spiked ball of metal had luckily landed far from anything delicate. Before Four could say or do anything, you nearly thrusted the mace’s handle into his hands before taking off. In your eyes, you had just broken two weapons in the span of a minute and most likely thought that Four was angry with you- livid, even. Four was upset, yes, but far more at himself for his neglect than anything else.

Thus, Four began to get both weapons back into tip-top shape over the course of the next few days. Despite their sorry state, it wasn’t like he was having to forge a new weapon. The metal just needed some polish and refining, the wooden rods of the body needed to either be resanded or replaced, and the leather wrapping of the handles needed to be redone. With skilled hands, and some help, the mace and warhammer were nearly as good as new before the week was over with.

When you had been given the weapons, you didn’t act how Four expected you to. Typically, when someone was given a new weapon, it had about the same effect as getting a new tool. That’s really what weapons were- tools.

But you acted like a child finally getting the toy they’ve been wanting for ages. You smiled and laughed as you swung around the fresh steel like it weighed nothing. Your joy was infectious as a few others helped set up makeshift targets for you to smash or even tried their hand at sparring with you now armed with a weapon you could handle. It was a refreshing sight to see- to know he had made someone so happy.

It was that night, Four believed, that everything changed for him.

He didn’t notice it at first. He had begun to have your two weapons fixed up first before anything else. He had excused it as being efficient as you had nothing else in your arsenal besides the two weapons. Plus, they regularly received a heavy beating and Four needed to make sure that they weren’t about to break in the middle of battle.

As you began to handle battle and training better and better, Four began to think more and more about getting you a better mace. It was your preferred choice of weapon as having a free hand in battle was useful. Rather than a replacement, maybe he could get you a different style of mace instead? Maybe see how you’d handle a ball and chain?

It was when Four got a good look at your hands one night did his plans change.

You sought him out to pick up your weapons and then be on your way. Illuminated by candlelight did Four see how quickly your skin had calloused and scarred. They were the hands of a fighter, sure, but they’d quickly grow pained and stiff if they weren’t taken care of. Something Warriors and Hyrule were likely already chiding you for, but Four knew of something that could help out. Something that only he could provide as far as he was concerned. Not like he’d let you be serviced by any other blacksmith or get near that sleazy merchant friend of Legend for equipment.

Thus, Four began to work on a fresh set of armor. It had originally started out as nothing more than brainstorming up a pair of gauntlets, but it’d be wrong not to have the whole set.

While most of the boys preferred leather armor with a layer of chainmail beneath it, Four felt like something more robust was in order. You were big and strong without a doubt, yes. While you easily outclassed any typical Hylian in that regard, you weren’t as nimble on your feet as it took time for you to accelerate into a full sprint or scale a ledge. Leather or chainmail didn’t fit you in the eyes of Four’s mind, but full plate certainly did. Why worry about having to dodge if the enemy couldn’t even get past your armor, after all.

He knew it would be a momentous task to fulfill given that he didn’t have access to a ready forge every day. Still, Four was determined. “If there’s a will, there’s a way” the saying goes. And oh does Four find himself willing when it comes to you.

His hands wouldn’t stop shaking when it was finally time to start the measurements. For days and nights on end did he brainstorm your armor. From its design to how it’d be forged, it all had to be perfect. He was too young and too early on in his craft to already be creating a magnum opus but dammit he would just for you only ever for you.

Measuring the dimensions of your hands was the only easy part of this for Four. Even though hands were a complex shape to work with, that wasn’t exactly the part that had Four jittery. No, Four had to brace himself for touching you anywhere else. The arms were fine as well and the shoulders… sort of were. But… then he got to your neck and he really tried not to stare at the way your throat bobbed up and down as you swallowed or how his eyes followed the tiniest drop of sweat as it ran down your skin and along the line of your collar bone. The skin was mostly untouched and unblemished so what would it look like if it was littered with kisses and love bites and licks and-

Four shakes his head and you give him a raised brow but say nothing. He moves past your neck and his hands are quick as lighting to get your chest done and over with. Then it was time to deal with your abdomen and he couldn’t help but let his hands linger there for a bit. It’d be a crime not to, really- you’ve done well to hone in your build and the effort shows. The lines of the abs are gentle and subtle thanks to the soft plush of fat Wild is keen on you keeping. Four can recall many nights where he used the expanse of your midsection as a pillow. When you were dead asleep and he couldn’t get a wink, kneading the flesh beneath his hands was a welcome sleep aid. There were also night when he wondered how the flesh would twitch as hands ran down them or even jiggle like it did in his fantasies where he-

Four nearly has to slap a hand across his face to shut Vio up. He plays it off the best he can by carding a hand through his hair. He hunches over a little bit to get a better angle of your lower body since you were kind enough to sit down for him. He got the measuring tape ready and began to take in the size of you thighs and he really, really had to not focus on the fact that his hands were all over your thighs. He can’t blame anyone but himself for this torture as he told you he needed you to strip to your undergarments to get an accurate measurement. He’s just doing his job, nothing more! A-And if he happens to squeeze your thigh here and there its not like he means to! And he really, really has to not think about what the sheer strength they contained would do to, say, a hydromelon or a pumpkin or maybe… someone’s head. Or… or how they would clamp down on his head like a vice if he were to-

“Uh, Four? You okay bud?” You call out. Four startles and looks up at you with wide eyes. Your expression has gone from perplexed to concerned and you were even reaching your hand out to the little man to ground him. Four gulps and winces at how dry his throat was but he didn’t feel like going off to get a drink of water not like he needed to when one was right in front of him.

“F-Fine. I’m… I’m fine,” Four lies through his teeth. It was the most obvious lie he feels like he’s ever told, but you don’t press him on it. You let him continue on and he is fine. He’s fine finishing up the measurements on your thighs and he’s fine with finishing up your calves. And he is fine when he get to your feet. He is perfectly fine- the epitome of fine-ness. So what if your feet are too? It’s not like he’s some weirdo, you just have nice feet! But not like that, you- you crazy! They’re strong and have carried you well in life! Did he mention that they’re strong- like, really strong? Strong enough that he’s watched them, even clad in nothing more than leather boots, stomp in the head of a bokoblin. O-Or that one time that you managed to subdue a group of bandits with a few of his sword brothers and forced their leader to kneel by planting the heel of your foot between their shoulders. Goddesses, he has to admit that that was one of the hottest things he’s ever witness- especially with how you berated the pigs like dirt beneath your boot, which they were. He can’t recall a time in his life where he’s been so simultaneously surprised, spooked, and horn-

“And done! Y-You’re free to go and get dressed and I’ll go do what I need to do!” Four announced as he stood straight up like an arrow. The action startles you and raises your brows to your hairline, but Four is gone and out of sight before you can even open your mouth. Rather than thinking about the smith’s strange actions, it’d be easier on the mind to just go about your business as planned.

The days pass by but with a distinct lack of Four. Not that he was missing from the group, but it was clear he had chose to distance himself. It was worrisome at first but when he threatened to cave in Wild’s skull should he try to tear him away from his work again, it was decided that he sooner needed his space more than anything.

Crafting your armor was something that quickly consumed Four’s mind. He had to get it done as soon as possible but he couldn’t let it be a botch job. If it was a botch job, you wouldn’t like it. If it was a botch job, it could sooner harm you more than help. If it was a botch job, then Four might as well be handing the others a golden opportunity to woo you.

Yet his absence also meant that they had more time with you than he did. It ate him up inside to see others always next to you or doing something he could easily do for you. Were it not for Vio and Green’s combined patience, then he’s sure he would have gone ballistic by day three.

Slow and steady wins the race. When the armor would finally be finished, he’d be there for every buckle you fastened and every strap you adjusted. He’d be there for the first steps you took while covered in steel and for every battle from then forward. No matter how many scratches or dings the armor may get in it, it’d be top priority above anything else to get it fixed back up.

His brothers could tire themselves out and make his life a lot easier when it was time for him to shine. He would sit by and let the lot of them buzz around you like fruit flies to honey. If he presented himself as lesser competition, then they’d sooner focus on one-upping each other even more. He could observe their tactics and strategies at a distance while he kept his cards to himself. And when it would be time for him to strike, he’d tear through the competition like it was nothing.

He didn’t mind, let alone care, about how he had to get resources. If he had to buy his metals from merchants and haggle about the price for an hour, so be it. If he had to venture out into the wilderness to source his own ore or hide, he’d do it. Even if he had to steal or pull what he needed from the bodies of his slain enemies, he didn’t care. If it all resulted in him getting your armor finished and receiving your love and praise sooner, he’d do it all.

Despite now constantly working himself to the bone, he still needed breaks- and to treat himself whenever he made good progress for the day. Nowadays, you were rarely allowed to do night shifts in guarding the camp. Four would watch you like a hawk as you slowly sunk deeper and deeper into sleep. When he was sure you were fast asleep and whoever was on shift wasn’t looking, he’d shrink himself down, down, down until he was the same size of a Minish. He’d scurry over to you and carefully scale your sleeping body until he was sat on your chest. He’d put his ear to your sternum and listen to the steady and solid beat of your heart. And, if he was feeling a bit cheeky or had to hide or maybe just cold, he didn’t mind crawling beneath your shirt for the night.

The days led to weeks and then the weeks to nearly two months. Two months, Four had toiled away on this armor as if his life depended on it. It may not have, but his future and happily ever after did. Were it not for the endeavors of you and his brothers, he’d have worked himself to the pits of neglect and more. Still, it wasn’t a far off statement to say that he’d seen better days.

But that didn’t matter right now! Finally, finally, his work was finished. Every buckle and strap of the armor was secure and every plate was as polished as a mirror. It was practical and protective but it didn’t lack in any ornate fashion either. Truthfully, the set sooner looked like it had been forged by a royal blacksmith. Now, he just had to present it to you!

“Hmm? Ah, Four! There… you are? Four, bud, what’s in your hands- are you okay?” You questioned as the smithy stumbled walked over. His usually straight golden bob of hair was messy and tangled with soot. His face bore a shaky and unsteady smile like he was ready to either crash right then and there which he was or go mental that too. Your obvious concern over him was something Four may have relished earlier, but it wasn’t important in light of his accomplishment.

“Look! I… I got yyyyyyyyooooourrr armor finishhhed,” Four slurred. His tongue felt like cotton in his mouth and his arms were as steady as gelatin as he presented you the cuirass of your armor. You snatch the armor away from him and Four’s elation only lasts a moment when he sees just how upset you were. You… you didn’t like it?

“Four, buddy, look at you! By the goddesses- I knew you were overexerting yourself for the past few days but I didn’t think it was like this! Y-You’re filthy! Gods, when was the last time you ate something more than fruit or nuts?!” You fretted as you began to check over Four. Your worries were but static in his ears as Four focused on the now discarded cuirass. It laid on the ground like trash. Was that what you thought of his work? Trash? Was that what you thought of him?

“You… don’t… like… it?” Four whispers out as his eyes remain laser focused on the armor piece. The ever twisting and bright colors of his eyes were dull and stagnant. You groan- growl, even- and pinch the bridge of your nose.

“The armor is cool and all Four, but I could care less about it right now. Look at you- look at the state you’re in! I need to get you to help fast,” You whine. Your tone was dismissive and your words were so choppy when referring to the armor. Golden Three, you… you really didn’t like the armor. You must hate it! You must hate him!

“Why… what… am I doing wrong?” Four sobs out as he falls to his knees. He crumbles like a wet paper towel and is little more than a sobbing, snotty mess on the ground in seconds. “What am I doing wrong?!”

“Whoa-kay there, Four. L-Let’s calm down, okay? You’re not feeling well right now and it’s making you feel sick and bad about yourself,” You hush and reach out to soothe him. He grabs your hands with a bone-crushing grip you think not even Twilight was capable of as Four looked up at you. It was a look you’ve never seen before- and a look you’d never want to see again. It was pained, crazed, violent, and insane. His eyes threatened to bulge from his head as his lips formed a dangerous smile- like a snarling animal.

“Tell me- TELL ME! WHAT AM I DOING WRONG?!” Four demands. It’s scary to see him so out of control. You expected to see his eyes alight with blue but every color in them was perfectly proportioned. This cry for an answer was from all of him.

“Four, that’s enough! You’re starting to scare me,” You admit as you try to break free from him without hurting him.

“Scared? You, scared? You’re not the one scared, I am! I put blood, sweat, and tears into your armor and you throw it to the ground! Two months of painstaking work- work that bled into every ounce of my time is just… chucked aside!” Four yells and doesn’t let up.

“Four, please-”

“Is it not the style you wanted? Did you want it embellished with gold? Embedded with jewels?! Tell me, dammit, tell me!”

“Will you shut up about the armor?!” You finally scream back. Being gentle wasn’t working, so the only choice in the panic of the moment was to yell right back at him. “It’s not the armor I’m angry about, Four. It’s you.”

“Me…? I’m… I’m the problem?” Four mutters out as he seems to loose all the color in his skin. You grimace and realize the very poor choice of words that had just left your mouth.”

“Shit- Four, I don’t mean it like that. I’m angry with you, yes, but it’s not about you! It’s about your actions and-”

“I’m… the problem. I’m the problem. You hate… me. You hate me. You hate me!”

“No, Four, I don’t-”

“What do I need to change?!” Four howls as he throws himself at you. He latches on like some sort of stubborn parasite. He’s practically yelling in your ear as he hounds you for answers. “Well?! TELL ME! Do you not want to be seen with a blacksmith?! I-I can change careers! It’s not too late to learn something like carpentry or-or tailoring. Hell, I can learn those skills from Sky and Legend! Please, tell me what you want me to be! I’ll do it- I’ll do it all! I can prove that I’m better! I am better! Whatever it takes for you to love me and be with me, I will do it!”

“Four, are you even listening to yourself?!”

“I hear myself loud and clear, (Name)! Loud and clear! Maybe it’s all this time we’ve spent apart- yes, that’s it! I’ve barely been around you for two months while my brothers practically did everything they could to be by your side! You haven’t had time to know me, but I can fix that! I can make up for all of that lost time in so many ways! I can take you to where I grew up, I can take you to meet my grandfather- I can even have you properly meet the Minish! That sounds like a good first date, right?!”

“Fucking hell, what the fuck? I can’t do this-”

“Not into classical romance? That’s fine- perfectly okay, in fact! I’m nothing but charged nerves right now, so why don’t we go off and just kill some things?! Monsters or bandits, it doesn’t matter! Watching them fall to our blades, cowering at the sight of our blood soaked figures- it’ll be great! Plus you look absolutely amazing when you’re caving someone’s skull in, have I ever told you that? Your focus, your intensity, and your strength? Goddesses, even I can’t help but wonder what it’d be like to be turned into muck and mush by you!”

“TIME! TWILIGHT! WARS! FUCKING ANYBODY!-”

“NO! NO! You DO NOT call out to them! You just need me- you’ll only ever need me! I can do so many things that they can’t- I’ll prove it! I’ll spend every waking moment of the rest of my life to prove it, (Name)! I cannot be without you and I’ll prove that you cannot be without me! I love you, (Name). Heart, body, and soul- I love you. Just say it back, (Name). Say that you love me- say it! Tell me that you cannot live without me! Show to me that under all of your walls and layers that you are just as depraved as me and everyone else! Say it! SAY IT!”

THUNK!

Four’s body sags down before flopping over onto his side. In his fleeting vision, he can see your eyes ablaze with nothing short of raw terror. Tears he hadn’t noticed before streamed down your cheeks as your body shook like a leaf in the wind. Four barely caught the sight of large arms reaching for you before he finally blacked out.

~~~

When Four came to, he half expected to either be a specter floating above his corpse or waking up in his bed to find that everything had just been a dream. What he didn’t expect, though, was to find himself being slowly cascaded in water. In fact, most of his body was submerged in bubbly water that was pleasantly warm. Fatigue still hung heavy in Four’s bones and the relaxing water to the pleasant smell of sage and lavender in the air made it tempting to fall back asleep.

“Don’t you even think about falling asleep on me, mister. Not after what you did,” a voice croaks out from beside him. It takes Four a moment to register that it’s you and gosh do you look like you’ve been through Hell. No offense, but it was one of the worser states the young man had seen you in.

Four’s head aches and throbs as the mother of all headaches grapples him. He whines- it’s all he feels he has the strength to do. You don’t bother to massage his temples as you’re still busy washing his body. He’d derive pleasure from the action were it not for the terrible headache and the looming sense of unease in the room.

It was clear to Four that he had done something. He vaguely remembered confronting you about… something. The most vivid part of the memory was the agony and fear etched into your face before the blurry memory ended. Regardless of what happened, he knew he was going to get chewed a new one by every one of his brothers when they got the chance.

“I’m.. not mad about the armor. It’s a beautiful set, really,” you mutter and Four’s gaze flickers over to you in surprise. The armor? What about the armor? Oh, that’s right! He finished it! He must have given it to you then but it sounds like something went wrong.

“Then… what are… you mad at?” Four whispered out. Gods, his throat hurt like hell too! Did you and him get into some sort of argument? Maybe? He couldn’t recall but it felt more complex than that. Anger wasn’t the only emotion that seemed to be brewing within you. Disappointment? Concern, as well? Maybe even sadness?

“I’m mad at how you’ve been treating yourself, Link. You had basically become slave to your craft while you forged that armor! It was scary, Link- really scary. I’ve… I’ver never seen you go ballistic like that- I didn’t know you were even capable of it! Once I know you’re cleaned up and rested up, I’m having Hyrule and Wars check you out. And don’t think I’m gonna let you be unsupervised any time soon! Even if I have to be the one with you 24/7, I’ll do it!” You hiss. Your eyes light up with more than just anger or disappointment- dedication and a sense of duty are evident within you. It’s a beautiful look, if Four could be so bold. Not only that, but you’re referring to him by name! Progress!

“Oh… okay. I’m… sorry… for what I… did…” Four apologizes.

“No, it’s… don’t worry about it, okay? Your lack of sleep and food had clearly pushed you off the deep end. You just ended up snapping and I know that the neglect you’ve been through just made it worse. Not to mention what it must have been like with the addition of the Colors,” You sigh. Despite your dismissal, things were not okay. Four had said and done things that had upset you and certainly hurt you in come capacity. He wanted to apologize again but you had dropped the topic and clearly wished to no longer discuss it.

The bath continued on in silence as Four soaked in the moment. Even with the pain and exhaustion hounding his body from overworking himself, it felt worth it in the moment. You were so attentive and tender as you helped him. Even after he was out of the tub, you assisted in drying him off and basically swaddling him like a babe in towels. You even pulled out fancy creams or pastes Four hadn’t seen before. Beauty products, he had to guess, that were most likely given to you by Wars. Four let himself be pampered as its what he deserved. This moment, along with likely future pampering, was his reward for what he went through. Although he wasn’t one to look a gift horse in the mouth, Four was curious as to how far he could stretch this pampering and affection. Hyrule and Wars would undoubtedly tell him to rest for some time which could then easily be turned into time with you.

“Hmm… (Name)?” Four piped up as you searched through Four’s belongings to find him any clean clothes to wear.

“Yeah?” You respond and look up at the man. No matter how quietly he said anything or did anything, you’d perk up at full attention towards him. It made him feel special- to so easily have your attention.

“Can… I sleep with you for awhile? Until I’m better?” Four asks as he tries to make his tone as innocent as possible. Excitement was gnawing at his bones and trying to push through his exhaustion. He couldn’t let it show- not yet. He’s finally secured his way into your arms and he can’t blow it.

“Uhm��� sure, I don’t see why not. If it’ll help you sleep easier,” You agree and Four is only a little miffed by the statement. It sooner sounds like you’re fulfilling his request just to make him feel better- not to spend more time with him. Oh well- at the very least, it’s a starting point. All relationships start somewhere, right? Even if there was a… bump in the road earlier (of which he still finds himself still incapable of fully remembering- Twilight had to have hit him hard).

He’s finally- finally by your side.

He’ll do every task you give him to a T- you deserve nothing less.

He’ll rip out the hearts of your enemies and put them on a silver platter for you.

He’ll show you what it means to be loved by him- every inch of his being, physical or intangible, belongs to you.

He’ll do anything it takes to be by your side for the rest of his life and after. Even if it’s something as simple as putting a ring on your finger or finding out if it’s possible to go from being Four to Five. Don’t think he’s above anything anymore. Everything he does now, big or small, is going to be for you.

And the only thing he’ll never do, no matter how kindly you ask or how desperately plead, is leave.

#yandere linked universe #yandere linked universe x reader #yandere lu #yandere lu x reader #yandere lu four #yandere lu four x reader

[littlespacereader]

Hello! Could I request some Cg! Matt Murdock headcanons please? I saw you just wrote for him and I had no clue you were a fan of Daredevil too so I’m pretty ecstatic right now lmao. Anyways THATS was all have a great day!💜💜💜

Of course I can!! After writing the Valentine’s Day fic about Caregiver Matt Murdock I literally can’t get enough of him! So here are some cute Headcannons for Matt Murdock as a Caregiver! Plus some extra Daredevil type things as well!

Caregiver Matt Murdock Headcannons (SFW)

Matt is probably one of the nicest and gentlest Caregivers out there. Being someone who is extremely sensitive to sound himself, he is never one to raise his voice in anyway to his little one and is always going out of his way to make sure their comfortable.

You met Matt by simply running into each other. You were lost trying to find a doctors office in the same building when you popped your head into the office of Nelson and Murdock. Little did you know the simply mistake would change your life forever.

Matt and you got along so easily. You became quick friends and began to share everything with each other. He shared his secret double life as Daredevil and you shared your secret of regression.

Matt is extremely compassionate and was honored you trusted him enough to not only tell him about your regression but also start regressing with him. When you eventually asked for him to be your CG, he was head over heels. Of course he accepted and here you two are today!

Matt is a judgement free zone. Whatever you want or need for your regression he is all for it! Wanna wear diapers? Totally chill with him! Wanna have a sippy cup? He already bought you two! Aren’t the biggest fan of something? He respects your boundaries and strives to make you comfortable!

His favorite thing to do with his little one is go to the park. The city is loud and sometimes overstimulating. But the parks in the city help drown out some of that background noise.

He loves to go on picnic and lay all day on a blanket in the sun cuddling his little one close. Or he love to sit and listen to his little one running around the playground giggling and playing.

Matt is religious but he NEVER pushes his beliefs or anything of that nature onto his little one. He would NEVER. Whether his little one believes the same thing as him, believes something different, or doesn’t believe anything at all, his motto is that it isn’t his business to mind or care.

Matt is not really a tv or movie type of guy. But he is a big reader! So the two of you have your evening story times together! You settle down in his lap, sippy cup in hand as he reads one of his braille books to you all while you rest your head on his shoulder.

Matt is a big cuddler. Like most heroes he comes home late in the night after a long night of fighting crime. Cuddling helps heal the horrors that he witness. You’re his rock, you settle him down enough to sleep, your heat resting upon his chest is all he need to be able to fall asleep.

When Matt comes home hurt or injured from fighting crime, his Little takes it upon themselves to try and make him better. After all they just got themselves a doctors kit from Claire! It’s got bandaids and all sorts of stuff to help their Caregiver feel better. Matt sometimes feel guilty about it, he feels as though he should be taking care of them not vice versa. But he can’t help but love his little one as they run over with their kit to make him feel better, kissing all his injuries and putting plenty of bandaids all over him.

Oh? You wanna sneak into the kitchen and grab yourself a cookie without Matt knowing? Think again! His hearing is good, too good. “And what do you think you’re doing?” “I’m getting myself a snack.” “Standing on the kitchen counter infront of the tall cabinet where the cookies happen to be stored?” “…” “That’s what I thought get down.”

He’s stern but he’s a massive pushover. He’s too sweet to really be that stern.

Now let’s talk about Matt’s family

While Matt’s birth family isn’t alive, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t have one. Infact he has the best family anyone could ask for! Foggy, Karen, Claire, and yes…even Frank at times. All of them love and accept Matt’s little one. Some of them even go above and beyond for them!

Foggy & Karen are in their lives the most, working with Matt will do that. They both adore Matt’s little one. When he brings them to the office they’ll completely ignore Matt and spend all their time giving them all their love and attention. Karen and Foggy will literally fight over the Little! They are his go to babysitters and they are honored.

Foggy is Uncle Foggy and you guess it, he’s the fun Uncle. He’s the type of uncle that sneaks you candy, sticks up for you against your caregiver even if your clearly guilty and breaks all your caregivers rules when they watch over you. He loves to play around and be a goof.

Karen is Aunt Karen. She’s usually a buffer for Foggy’s craziness. She’s kind and gentle. She loves to play with the little one, any game they like from dress up, to race cars, to something simple as a board game. She’s always knows their needs without them saying a word. Her kind gentle nature always put the little one at peace.

Claire and Matt’s little one became friends after they called her in a panic because Matt was badly injured. She arrived and not only took care of him, but also his little one. Being a nurse she’s seen regression so she’s no stranger to it. She’s also prepared for it, having pacifiers, fidget toys, diapers, sippy cups and more. Whatever they chose to take she’s prepared to always make sure they’re at ease. She eventually becomes one of Matt many babysitters for his little one. At first she made a big deal about it, she doesn’t mean a word of it having fallen for the adorable Little. Now their her little medical assistant.

Frank becoming Uncle Frank came as a shock to everyone, especially Matt. His little one once got roped in some bad business and The Punisher saved them. Frank called Matt and explained what happened. Matt expected to come back to his apartment and find Frank and his Little chatting, but definitely not cuddling while he read them a book, doing funny voices for all the characters. He’s never seen Frank so paternal before, so gentle. But his little one brought that father side of Frank out. They’re helping him heal through his tragic past: After that, Frank was added to the list of baby sitters Matt had in his arsenal.

At the end of the day Matt and his family of friends love and accept you for the adorable and fun Little you are!🥰

#age regression #age regressor #agere #agere little #sfw age regression #sfw agere #agere post #little space #sfw littlespace #age regression blog #age regression writing #age regression community #sfw age regressor #age regression sfw #age regression fic #ageregression #age regression caregiver #agere blog #agere community #agere fandom #agere lifestyle #little blog #padded little #little!reader #caregiver!matt murdock #cg!matt murdock #daredevil #sfw agere blog #agere positivity #fandom agere

[ghostlychief]

Ivy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader

wc: 2.3k+

warnings: mentions of being cheated on; angst; minimal drinking; hurt/comfort; also sorry for any typos/grammar mistakes!!

Summary: Sometimes, old wounds don’t heal properly, even when you think they do. Past insecurities come to light when you see a woman try her best to flirt with you boyfriend, Simon. You can’t help it when insecurities of the past seep into your mind, clouding your judgement.

A/N: OK so this was a request from @cheezitwh0re but i accidentally deleted my original post answering your request (I’M SO UPSET😭😭😭). Anyways, the request asked for a fic about Simon finding out that you were cheated on in a past relationship after you become uncomfortable with him speaking to a woman.

Also, in your request, it sounded like this was something you’ve been through before, I’m so sorry that happened to you, and hope you’re doing alright <3

I hope you enjoy and hope that I did your request justice!

- Lee <3

--

You really pride yourself in taking the steps to heal from your last relationship; you do. You went to a therapist to talk about the problems that were present in that relationship, and talked through all the trust issues you still held within you. It took a long couple of years to thoroughly work through all your shit, but you did it, and you came out the other side a new person, with a new perspective on relationships. In other words, you were ready to get back out there; date. A scary word for someone who lost their faith in a past lover.

So, by the time you and Simon started dating, you thought you had all your shit figured out, and that nothing from your past relationship would seep into this one, marking it with at stain. Little did you know that your past trauma was still present, although much more diminished than before; a seedling of some sorts just waiting for the right atmosphere to take root and grow.

--

You and Simon have been dating for a little over nine months now. While you weren’t on taskforce 141, you did work at the same base where the unit trained and stayed, when not assigned to a mission. You were a technical analyst, and you crossed paths with Simon every once in a while. Although you guys never really spoke to one another, you would always capture his eyes with yours, mystified by the man behind the mask.

There was also a part of you that was just physically attracted to him. No one can blame you either, he’s 6’4, massive, and is built like a Greek god. So really, all you needed to do was get to know him a bit better, to see if your personalities worked well together.

You knew a little bit about him before you ever actually talked to the man; only because you were assigned on some missions with 141, only you did not go out into the field, and instead, worked at the base, behind your computer.

You knew he was a lieutenant, had a deep voice, and kept to himself. That was about it. It’s not like the man shared much about himself during meetings, debriefs, or team bonding time. It’s not actually team building time- something you came to learn after your first “session.” No, it was really a time for the team to get a bunch of alcohol and drink together. It was during these “team bonding sessions” that you figured this was your best bet at breaking down Simon’s walls.

Listen, you have respect for boundaries, so of course you weren’t going to try and bother him too much. You were just curious, that’s all. Plus, you had formed quite the crush, and you couldn’t help the feeling of your heart pounding in your chest whenever you saw him, or even when someone mentioned his name.

You’re also not the only woman on the base whose attention has been directed at Ghost, and definitely not the only one with a crush. Does that bother you? Just a little, but you really had no claim over him anyways, so how mad can you really be?

You did have an advantage though, seeing that you consistently got assigned to task 141, and therefore, were invited to their drinking shenanigans.

So, when the next team bonding session rolled around, you had a plan and were ready to set it in motion.

Basically, your plan was to get a little tipsy to work up the courage to go over and talk to Ghost, like officially. You don’t even know if he knows your name, or who you are.

The night was off to a good start- Soap invited you to take a couple of shots with him and Gaz, something you immediately accepted. You cheered to another end of a successful week and downed your shots. You talked with them for a bit, catching up on nominal things, but you enjoyed the chatter.

Though, the whole time, you were distracted; the silhouette of a certain 6’4 man in your periphery.

You were itching to go over to him at this point, but you didn’t want to be rude.

Soap must have picked up on your fidgety nature, because before you knew what was happening, he was calling Ghost over, asking him to take a shot with the three of you.

Well damn.

You couldn’t escape this, not without seeming weird or like you were avoiding him or something.

You hear Ghost walk over; he’s standing next to you now and you can smell his cologne. He smells like fresh rainfall and cedar-wood.

“What are we toasting to, Johnny?” You each have your shot in your hand now.

Soap thinks for a second, “Let’s toast to our new technical analyst, Y/n. Always a pleasure working with you, lass.” He gives you a wink then everyone cheers, “To y/n!”

After you all take your shot, Soap and Gaz run off to who knows where, leaving you and Ghost alone. This might have been the first time you guys were alone with each other, and the silence was deafening.

But before you could say anything, Ghost beat you to it, “I don’t think we ever formally met. I’m Ghost, and I’m assuming you’re Y/n.” He sticks out his hand towards you, and in that moment, you liked to think that he was also smiling at you under his balaclava.

You smile up at him, grasping his hand with yours. “You assumed correctly. Nice to meet you too.”

He nods his head, then releases your hand. You liked the way his hand fit with yours.

Much to your surprise, you two spent the whole night talking and drinking, and by the end of the night you found yourself a new friend.

After that night, it was more common to find you and Ghost chatting, sometimes before meetings, or after debriefs. Over the next few months, you grew closer to the Lieutenant, and eventually you started dating. Something that you never thought would actually happen. But you were happy, excited to be in a new relationship, especially with Simon.

Although he was quiet and seemed to have a thousand walls surrounding him, you came to learn that he was actually really sweet and gentle. Nothing you would have ever suspected. Sure, you guys had your little spats here and there. You guys were still working on your communication. You, trying to give Simon space when he needed it, and Simon, not to immediately shut down when there was a problem.

Things were going well, and before you knew it, nine months flew by.

--

Did you get some glares throughout the base when it was known that you and Simon were a thing? Possibly. You tried not to let them get to you. He was with you, he loved you. Nothing else mattered, or should matter.

Before you could realize what was happening, old habits from your past relationship started to seep through your behaviors, thoughts, and perceptions of you and Simon’s relationship. The trauma of the past had taken root, quietly and without you knowing, and its vines started to grow within you, threatening to consume you completely.

It was too late when it all came to a head at one of the team’s nights out. The vines grew thick and threatened to choke you before you even know what was happening.

You all were gathered and occupying space in an abandoned warehouse on base that is no longer in use, drinks in hand. You were sitting next to Ghost, his hand on your thigh, every once in awhile his hand would give you a reassuring squeeze. It was his way of letting you know that he was still there, present, with you.

You emptied your drink, so you got up to pour yourself another. While at the table which held all the assortments of alcohol and chasers, you ran into Price. He started talking to you, so of course you stayed and you ended up talking to him for about 10 minutes.

When you turn around to make your way back over to Ghost, you notice that your seat has been taken, by a woman who you vaguely recognize. You really only recall her because she’s one of them who have a not-so-subtle affixation on Ghost. And her liking to your boyfriend did not waver nor disappear when you started dating him. No, if anything it was even more strong, and she tried everything she could to get his attention. She even occasionally makes digs at you in passing. Something you’ve come to ignore since all she’s looking for is a reaction and no way in hell were you going to give her one, no matter how deep her words cut.

Your blood boiled at the sight of them talking. She was turned towards him, with a big smile on her face and you could tell she was flirting, at least trying to. Ghost was still facing forward, not really paying much attention to her, and when his eyes caught you walking back over, his posture immediately straightened and his eyes lit up; almost as if in relief.

You were blinded by anger and hurt, so none of Ghost’s mannerisms clued you in to the fact that he wasn’t enjoying the conversation with the woman at all. No, it blew completely past you.

When you finally approach them, you’re standing in front of Ghost.

“Oh, good. Y/n, I was just talking to Camila here; she works in supply chain.” Ghost gestures towards apparently Camila.

“I don’t think we’ve officially met, I’m Y/n.” You try to keep your voice level, but this proves challenging.

“Oh, I’ve seen you around.” You can’t help but hear the bite in her voice as she addresses you, and her sinister smile says it all.

At this point you’ve had enough. Who is she to be talking to you like this? “Well, I think I’m going to head off to bed, I have an early start tomorrow.”

You see Ghost turn his head towards you, confusion laced in his eyes.

“Tomorrow’s Saturday though?” Camila’s annoying voice once again permeates the air, taunting you.

You try not to roll your eyes, and quite frankly you’re on the verge of tears. The combination of the long week, mixed in with all the doubts that have been swarming your head about you, and your relationship becoming overwhelming.

You decide to just ignore her, and turn towards your boyfriend. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you voice, “I’m gonna head up, ok?” You give him a kiss on the forehead and you hope that he doesn’t catch the tears that’s been collecting in your waterline.

You turn around and head back to your room, trying to forget that Camila is still sitting with your boyfriend. You don’t turn back when you hear her chair scrap on the floor, indicating she moved closer to him.

--

You didn’t expect for Simon to get back until much later, so you’re surprised when only 15 minutes have passed since you’ve been back in your room, and you hear him knocking on the door.

“Hey, it’s me. Open up.”

You’ve been crying, so you hastily wipe your tears, but its to no avail, your eyes are red and puffy and you know he’s going to see right through you.

You trudge over to the door and open it.

Simon enters, and he walks past you, hands on his hips.

“Do you want to tell me what happened back there?”

“What do you mean?” You’re being stubborn, you know. But it’s taking everything in you to not start yelling and crying even though you know he did nothing wrong.

“C’mon, Y/n. Don’t be like this, I know you’re upset and have been crying. Talk to me.” He turns around and although worry coats his face, faint traces of annoyance start to show.

“There’s nothing to talk about. It seems like you were having a great conversation back there, sorry to interrupt.”

He lets out a sigh. “That’s what this is about? Camila?”

You burst, “Of course it is! Do you think I’m stupid? Half the women on the base have a crush on you or want to fuck you. I have to put up with glares everywhere I go, and, with women fawning over my boyfriend. Do you know how exhausting that is?

And how do I not know you’re entertaining them?”

Now he scoffs, “Wow, you think that little of me, huh? Why don’t you trust me? I have done nothing to lose your faith in me.”

You look up at him to find his lips turned down, eyes hooded, and you know you fucked up, letting your insecurities from the past blind you from what was right in front of you.

It’s your turn to sigh, and you make your way over to your bed, and sit down, head in your hands.

“You’re right. I’m sorry. It’s just- I was cheated on -multiple times- in my last relationship and I guess the wounds from that haven’t completely healed, even though I thought they did. I even saw a therapist and worked through everything, well, tried to, I guess.”

The bed dips, and  you feel Simon wrap a strong arm around your shoulders, tugging you into his side.

He leaves a kiss on your forehead, “Well shit, Y/n. I wish you would have told me that sooner. I’m sorry you went through that in your past relationship, but we can work through this together, alright? You don’t have to try and deal with this on your own.

“We’re a team after all.” His arm squeezes you, smushing you into him even further.

You sniffle, “We are?”

He brings his other hand up to cup your jaw, gently turning your head so you can look at him properly. “Of course, sweetheart.”

“I love you, ok?” He gives you another reassuring squeeze.

You hum, “I love you too.”

His thumb rubs under your eyes, wiping away any stray tears, and in that moment, you feel the suffocating vines retract, leaving you the chance to breathe clearly for the first time in what felt like long time.

--

Hope you enjoyed!

masterlist

#simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #simon riley fanfic #simon ghost riley fanfic #mw2 ghost fanfic #mw2 ghost fic #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley fic #simon riley hurt comfort #simon riley angst #simon ghost riley hurt comofrt #simon ghost riley angst #mw2 ghost imagine #simon riley imagine #simon ghost riley imagine

[bliss-in-the-void]

SatoSugu complex relationship angst (pt2) wherein strength is what ultimately came between them.

They saw each other as rivals and the means to push each other to get stronger so as not to be bested. They acknowledged each other’s strength and in turn wanted their strength to be acknowledged by the other. Oh, he’s impressive. I want to impress him too. I want him to know I’m just as good.

(This is long so read full under the cut):

Suddenly they were two special grades and the strongest sorcerers in their generation. All while in high school. Together, they were the strongest. A unit. And so it was less about competition and more about harmony. He isn’t better than me and I’m not better than him in strength.

“Satoru, you didn’t sleep last night and you haven’t turned off your Infinity in two days, are you sure we don’t need to go back to Jujutsu High?”

Satoru thinks: I’m tired but I can’t show him that, he’ll think I’m weakened and I’m supposed to be strong. I need to be strong so he feels strong. It’ll be fine, we’re strong.

“No, it’s fine, I’ve dealt with worse and you’re here too.”

Suguru thinks: He’s acknowledging my strength, he trusts me to keep us safe because I’m strong like him. I’m nervous but I need to keep being strong so that he can depend on me like he is now.

They leave the next morning and as soon as they’re in the barrier of the high school.

“Satoru, you really worked hard. Thank you.” Now he can rest. Everything is okay.

Satoru turns his Infinity off and six seconds later, right behind him, right in Suguru’s direct line of sight, Toji stabs him.

Suguru is thinking: how did that happen? We’re inside the barrier. I’m looking right at Satoru, how didn’t I see him? I should have seen him coming. I couldn’t protect him.

Then Satoru tells him to leave with Amanai and get her to Tengen. Leave him to deal with Toji alone. Suguru hesitates.

He thinks: Leave him behind? But we always do everything together. We can take him on together. I need to get Amanai to Tengen but I don’t want to leave him. I can still fight with him, I’m strong.

But Satoru smiles reassuringly at him. He thinks it’ll be fine. He leaves.

Toji finds him and tells him he killed Satoru. Suguru sees red. He felt grief, anger, confusion, and the need for vengeance. How could Satoru die? Aren’t we the strongest? How could this man have taken him out? Was it because we separated?

Suguru gets defeated but left alive. He feels survivor’s guilt. Toji could have killed him but didn’t—only Satoru died. He dragged himself to Shoko, distraught. Satoru is gone. They aren’t the strongest anymore. He’s alone.

Then he goes to retrieve Amanai’s body from the cult and sees Toji’s weapon-holding curse running free. Someone killed Toji. Only one person would be able to kill Toji. He rushes in to find Satoru holding Amanai’s body.

Satoru is alive. Somehow, he’s alive. But his eyes are lifeless. Something is wrong. Did he come back as a curse? “Satoru, is that you?”

“You went to see Shoko already?”

I did. She healed me. And somehow you’re healed and you didn’t need her. You learned Reversed Curse Technique? I can’t do that. How can you do it? We’re equals, aren’t we?

“Yeah. She healed me. I’m feeling fine again. But that doesn’t change anything here, does it?”

Suguru thinks: He’s different because of me. Amanai is dead because I didn’t see Toji coming behind Satoru. I should have seen it. I should have done more.

“I screwed up pretty bad. You are not the one at fault.”

Satoru thinks: don’t blame yourself, I’m the one who got worn down and allowed all of this to happen. We should have just left the night before like we were supposed to. My judgement was bad, and I wasn’t strong enough. I was too weak. We both got hurt because of it. But we’re still strong. We can deal with these people right now. We can prove that we’re better than them.

“Suguru, should we kill these guys?”

Suguru thinks: it would be too easy. We could do it in seconds. We are strong. But we need to choose where to show it. Restraint is also a virtue of strength.

“There wouldn’t be any meaning to it.”

They leave. They are never the same.

Satoru internalizes the fact that he wasn’t strong enough and buries himself in training and missions so that it will never happen again.

Suguru internalizes the fact that no matter how strong he was, it wasn’t enough, and spirals down with victim-mindset thoughts of we shouldn’t have had to be strong and why do we need to be strong? Is that all we are?

Satoru is now so strong that he doesn’t need Suguru to help him like he used to, and it makes Suguru feel like his exorcisms are in vain. Satoru can take care of it all. Why does he still have to do it when they just keep coming?

And then it dawns on him.

He doesn’t have to be a weak sorcerer. He can be the strongest curse user.

He won’t have to exorcise for no purpose anymore, he can do it to build his arsenal of curses and make money. He can do it to create a world where sorcerers can live their lives as their own and not as self-sacrificing protectors.

So he does it. He becomes the number one curse user, and Satoru is the number one sorcerer. He’s the strongest again, but this time, it’s on his own.

Take that, Satoru.

“There’s no point of chipping away at something you can’t possibly achieve.”

That digs at Suguru. There it is, evidence that Satoru does not think he’s strong anymore He isn’t strong enough to kill all non-sorcerers. All the strength he used to acknowledge no longer exists, apparently.

“You’re so arrogant. You could do it yourself, couldn’t you? But you’d try to convince someone else that it’s impossible, when it’s possible for you.”

Suguru’s thoughts: you see yourself alone as the strongest. Which means it is possible, so don’t say that it’s not possible. You could do it. You’re telling me I can’t. That’s unfair.

“Do you think you’re the strongest because you’re Satoru Gojo, or are you Satoru Gojo because you’re the strongest?

How much do you identify with your strength? Did you become strong because of who you are? Or are you you because you are the strongest? Did the inner strength come from your personality or out of obligation and weight to become strong? Why are you strong? Was it your own desire to be so, or the expectation of the world that forced you to be?

It’s a dig. Suguru is saying, you’re strong because you have to be. I’m strong because I want to be. No one is controlling my life but me now, you can’t say the same for yourself. You are a puppet for the society, and I get to live the way I want from now on. Which one of us is truly weak now?

He walks away and challenges Satoru to kill him. Prove that you’re the guard dog that will obey my execution order.

Satoru doesn’t. He lets Suguru walk away, an act of defiance. But he doesn’t feel any stronger because of it.

Yaga meets him on the steps and he asks,

“Do you think I’m strong?”

“Yes. And arrogant about it.”

“Apparently being strong alone isn’t enough. The only ones I can save are those who are already waiting to be saved by someone.”

Suguru vibe-checked the hell out of him. He couldn’t save Suguru, because strength was what came between them. No matter how strong he is, he isn’t strong enough to save someone who doesn’t want to be saved. Suguru didn’t want to be saved. Strength meant jack shit.

You don’t just need strength to keep things the way they were, like he had thought. He buried himself in training to get strong to prevent a catastrophe from happening again and Suguru leaving just proved that strength alone isn’t enough. Because now the strength he has could have saved Riko, but it couldn’t save Suguru.

What could have saved Suguru was the two of them not being alone, and he realizes that too late.

So make up for it, he adopts Megumi to make sure he isn’t alone, he becomes a teacher to raise strong sorcerers to be strong alongside each other, to train with each other, to care for each other and have each other’s backs power-wise and emotionally, to never be alone again like he and Suguru became after the Toji incident.

It’s not strength alone, it’s love that you need too.

#i think i just cooked again #jujutsu kaisen meta #jujutsu kaisen analysis #jjk #satosugu #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #stsg #geto suguru #suguru geto #satoru gojo #jujukai #satosugu meta #satosugu headcanons #stsg meta #satosugu analysis

[teyamsatan]

when's the cruel summer oneshot coming bestie? i'm dying to read it :(((

bestie, ngl, i'm really going through it atm, and i genuinely do not have as much time to write, but i am trying and it is coming, and i this week my goal is to hopefully finish it and chapter iii of monster in me. so i'm praying that it's coming early next week, but i can give you another sneak peak??? 😏

“Do you think they’ve moved on?” Kiri, much like her brother, shared so much with a human, so much more than could ever be said out loud or expressed into words, only to have it taken from her as she moved to Awa’atlu. Unlike Neteyam, though, Kiri wasn’t going to go down without a fight, especially now that the person she loved got an Avatar.

“Do I think who has moved on?” Neteyam knew very well who Kiri was referring to, but half-hoped if he acted oblivious she would just drop it. He should know his sister better than that.

“Stop. You know very well who.”

A sigh so deep it felt like it was exhaled from the pits of Neteyam’s soul escaped him, and he had to think about his answer, something he didn’t want to have to do. 

“I don’t know. I hope she did.” I hope she didn’t. 

“Do you?” 

“…No.” 

“Doesn’t it kill you? Knowing they have Avatars now? Because it kills me.” 

The news of your new Avatars reached Awa’atlu months ago, while Neteyam was having dinner with his now extended family, including his father and mother in law, as well as his mate, and for the first time since the night after you left, Neteyam needed to excuse himself and leave, taking his ikran and flying away, flying for hours, coming so close to just leaving it all behind, just so he could at least catch one glimpse of you again, just so he could hug you and tell you how happy he is for you, how much he hopes this Avatar can finally give you the life you’ve always wanted, the life you were always meant for, so he could watch the tears gather in your eyes and dropping down your face and know that that very image would be enough to confess harsher truths that he should never think to say out loud again, like how he’s still in love with you and always will be, how nobody would ever be able to replace you, how he wishes every day things would be different. 

In those months, Neteyam learnt to accept that much like he’s come to know in his life, and especially after you, some things are not meant to be. He believed in Eywa, and trusted her judgement and her will, and Eywa chose this for him. And he was happy, as happy as he could be, with his current life, with a mate that was strong, and intelligent, and kind and sweet, and incredibly beautiful, and the little baby that she was currently carrying in her womb, the little baby that would make Neteyam the happiest man in the world once they were born. Some things just weren’t meant to be. And your life together, the one you’ve left behind, the one he’s left behind, was one of those things. 

“I have a life now, Kiri. A different life. I have a mate. I can’t think about things like this anymore.” 

Kiri puffed and rolled her eyes, before getting up from her spot on the floor and leaving, but not before she said one last thing. 

“Just because you can’t think about it, doesn’t mean you don’t.” 

i'm really sorry and i hope this makes up for it x it's coming soon, i promise x

#༊*·˚ andra's works #cruel summer #my asks 💕 #𖨆♡𖨆 andra's anonnies #neteyam #neteyam x human!reader #neteyam x reader #neteyam fanfic #neteyam reader #neteyam sully #avatar #avatar twow #avatar fanfic #neteyam x avatar!reader #neteyam sully fanfiction #neteyam angst #awow #awow neteyam #sully family x reader #neteyam smut #neteyam x y/n #avatar way of water #neteyam x reader smut #neteyam x you #neteyam fluff #neteyam x reader angst

[slicznymartwy]

Maybe a Billy Lenz X GN!Reader or Billy Lenz X Male!Reader and the reader is dominant? I love the way you portrayed him in your works!!!

… this got away from me.. 2.2k words . very minimal proof reading and I wrote it really fast so please forgive any mistakes .. m!insert is friends with one of the sorority girls and is staying over for dinner when the Moaner calls. warning: non-con/dub-con, a little bit of cock slapping, honestly problematic nsfw 

☾⋆⁺₊ billy lenz x dominant m!reader

When your friend tells you about the obscene phone calls, you assume she’s making it out to be worse than it really is. It’s not that you don’t trust her judgement, but you figure there has to be a simpler reason for the calls than some pervert stalker.

You wouldn’t be surprised if it was just a couple of poorly timed wrong-number calls that the girls blew out of proportion the more they talked about it amongst themselves.

You don’t understand the truth of it until you’re the one picking up the phone.

“Pi Kap,” you answer. When there’s no response, you sigh and move the phone to your other ear. “Hello?”

You hear breathing on the other line. Heavy, labored breaths that give you goose bumps. The voice is obviously masculine, so deep and heady that you nearly forget that he’s calling for the girls, not for you. Clearing your throat, you force yourself to focus on reality and not your own weird fantasies.

“Listen here, buddy, you better stop calling this number,” you say sternly, but you’re cut off. 

He moans into the receiver, breaking off into coughs when his voice goes too low. It sounds dirty, like he might be stroking himself off while he’s talking to you.

It’s for the girls, you remind yourself. You should be feeling furious, not jealous.

“I mean it. I’ll call the police,” you threaten.

“Fucking sluts,” the voice mutters, coughing again. His coughs are loud now, sounding almost like grotesque gagging. “Pig sluts. I’ll fuck them before you do.”

“What?” you breath out, shocked by his words.

“Gonna fuck them first. Gonna ruin it for you. Fuck ‘em with my fat cock, bigger than yours. I’m gonna kill you,” he says, muttering everything under his breath. It’s quiet, but just loud enough that you can hear.

“You’re sick,” you hiss into the receiver. He coughs, then licks his lip so loudly you can hear his spit clicking in his mouth.

“Piggy pussies want my juicy fat cock,” the voice hisses back, choking on his spit in the end. Christ, you can’t imagine what kind of degenerate was calling the house like this.

“Go fuck yourself. I’m calling the cops and I’m beating your ass if I ever see you,” you say.

The man starts to talk again, but you hang up on him, not willing to subject yourself to anymore of his ranting.

“Jesus,” you mutter to yourself, just as your friend comes out from the dining room.

“Was that him?” she asks worriedly, brows drawn together. You sigh as you go to her, putting your hands in your pockets.

“I think so. He calls you guys often?” you ask.

“Sometimes once a day. Sometimes more or less,” she says, holding her own hand. You sigh, taking one hand out of your pocket to pat her shoulder.

“I’m calling the station and then I’m spending the night here. I don’t trust that creep after what he said,” you say, letting your hand drop despite how she leant into your touch.

“What’d he say?” 

You shake your head, putting your hand back into your pocket. “I won’t say. But I’ll keep you guys safe,” you promise. She coos at that, pouting like she might cry as she throws her arms around you. You carefuly extract both hands from your pockets and pat her back carefully.

“Thank you, thank you. You’re the bestest friend ever,” she says. You smile and pat her back, but you don’t really feel like a good friend.

Although your friend offers you the other side of her fullsize mattress, you decline her nicely and take a pillow and blanket down to the living room couch.

“It’s to keep an eye on the front door,” you told her, which she accepted with a pout.

Unfortunately, the couch is less comfortable laying down than when you’re sitting on it. You toss and turn for a while before giving up, staring up at the ceiling with wide open eyes.

You mind wanders back to the phone call and the voice on the other line. His voice had gotten to your head, despite his disgusting words, and his moans played on repeat in your mind. You hadn’t heard real male moans like that in a long time, not counting yourself. It put you on edge, despite every rational bone in your body telling you how stupid you were being.

You’re considering a quick jerk off when you hear the last step on the staircase creak.

Freezing, you don’t move as you consider the sound. It could be your girlfriend or one of her housemates, but nearly every step of the staircase creaked; theres no way any of them could climb down those steps without making any other noise. Alternatively, you hadn’t heard the door open, and that thing creaked louder than all the steps combined.

Slowly, you sit up and look over the back of the couch to see a man in a dark sweater standing on the last step. He’s frozen in place, like if he doesn’t move, you won’t realize he was walking down the steps in your girlfriend’s house.

The longer he stays still, the heavier your breath comes. Fuck, is he even real? You rub your eyes with both hands, and then you hear him take the final step off the stairs and into the living room.

A choked off noise leaves your mouth when the stranger tackles you on the couch, both hands reaching for your throat like he wants to strangle you. Luckily, with your hands both up by your face, you’re able to knock his hands away from you, and you realize he’s not a very strong man. You manuver him easily, despite the way he flails his limbs baby deer.

It also certainly helps that you wrestled in high school.

Laying on the floor by the couch, you press his back against your chest, legs hooking around his own to keep him splayed open. Both of his hands come to the arm you keep looped around his neck.

The stranger is breathing heavily, gasping and grunting like an animal. He tries to buck you off of him, but you keep him in his place easily.

“Who the fuck are you?” you hiss in his ear. You’re taken aback when he hisses back, literally, like a cornered cat. You tighten the arm around his neck and feel his nails dig against your forearm.

“Are you the one calling?” you ask instead.

“Rrrrrrring, ring, ring,” the man manages to trill, despite being completely breathless. “Please hold, the next available operator will fuck you momentarily.”

“You fucking pervert,” you say, jostling him. The man moans, trying to free his legs but you don’t let him. Keeping your arm tight around his throat, but not so tight he can’t breath, you let go of your other arm and drop it down to his crotch.

The man’s hip buck immediately, struggling to get you off of him as he lets out a whimper. You don’t let up, feeling how his cock was already half hard in his jeans.

“How do you like that?” you whisper in his ear, continuing the motion with firm and steady strokes. “Is this what you wanted so bad? Fucking pervert freak.”

The man is still whimpering, head tossing back and forth as he mutters a soft, “no,” again and again. Despite his protests, his hands loosen up on your arm, giving less effort to truly break out of your hold.

You tell yourself that you’re just teaching the guy a lesson, but you’re hard too. His body is warm and firm and he smells so masculine, no trace of sweet flowery perfumes or lotions. Your cock presses against his lower back, but you try to ignore it.

“You’re disgusting,” you say instead of focusing on yourself anymore. You can feel the man start to buck his hips into your hand, chasing the pleasure. Feeling cruel, you let go of him and bring your hand down against his cock, reveling in the way he crumples like a can of soda, letting out a pathetic strangled noise.

“You like this, don’t you? How are you this desperate for anyone to touch you?” you ask in his ear. You start to stroke him again, listening to his heavy breathing. “Disgusting.”

“Disgusting Billy,” he whispers, sounding strangled. He suddenly gasps wetly and swallows, like he’s drooling. You grit your teeth as your cock twitches.

“Get up,” you say, rolling him off of you. Your cock bulges in your pants, but you ignore it while you watch him. He stays on the ground, still breathing heavily, and you think you see his hips twitch forward like he’s imagining he’s fucking someone. Suddenly furious, you climb to your feet, towering over him.

“I said get up. On your knees,” you whisper into the dark room. He groans, keeping his head hanging even as he forces himself up. 

He’s kneeling in front of you, and your cock throbs hotly against your tight pants.

“G-gonna fuck ‘em. Fucking sluts,” the man says under his breath. “Pig cunts.”

“Shut the fuck up,” you say, putting a hand in his frizzy mess of hair. Stepping forward, you force his head against your clothed cock. “Feel that? You’re gonna suck it, you fucking pervert. I don’t wanna hear another fucking word out of your mouth.”

The man moans, muffled against your pants. You can feel his mouth against you, wet and hot. His lips press against you, parted. 

Extracting your hand from his hair, you undo your fly and pull your cock out, already leaking precum at your tip.

“Go ahead, you sick little perv. This is what you want, isn’t it?” You let your cock brush against his lips, red and shiny already. “Fuck. You’re so sick.”

The man gags when you finally push your cock past his lips. He doesn’t let you go very far, his gag reflex is so sensitive that pushing in past the tip of his tongue has him coughing and crying.

It hardly matters to you. You fuck his mouth anyways, letting him drool and gag and cough as much as he wants. He looks up at you with wide, watery eyes, and you stare right back into them as you use him like a thing.

When you finally come in his mouth, you pull out and watch him cough and spit it out onto the wood floor under them. He’s gasping and trying to catch his breath between coughs, face flushed and wet with tears.

“Look at you,” you whisper, putting your hand in his hair. “You’re the slut now. Disgusting cock slut. Gonna oink for me, you cock pig? Oink for me,” you taunt. He moans, covering his face with both hands and scrubbing at his tear-stained cheeks.

You almost feel bad for him, but one look down shows you how he presses a hand against his crotch, rocking on his knees to ride his own palm.

“Fuck. Gonna come in your pants?” you ask him cruelly. “Do it. Pervert. You cock pig.”

The man in front of you moans brokenly, falling forward and clutching onto your pants leg with one hand as the other stays between his legs. You can tell when he comes, hand tightening against your jeans as he leans against you completely, hips twitching a few times before falling still again.

You watch the stranger with heaving breaths, more turned on than you’ve ever felt during any of your past encounters with men – usually little more than rushed handjobs in locker rooms or bar bathrooms.

Out of pity, you let the man catch his breath before stepping away from him, and he falls onto the floor between them.

“Clean yourself up,” you say, hiding yourself in your pants again. You sigh when you see the mess of spit and cum on the floor. “I’m gonna get a towel for the mess. You need the bathroom?”

You watch the man shake his head slowly, still not showing his face. Sighing again, you wonder what you could say. Should you call the police, or would he tell them what you both did and get you arrested to?

When you come back with a paper towel, you’re surprised to see that the man is gone; even the bathroom is empty. You figure the man had learned his lesson and crawled back to whatever hole he came from. 

Once the mess was wiped up and tossed into the kitchen trash bin, you lay back down on the couch. Sleep finds you much easier than it did before, and you’re out like a light after a few short minutes.

a/n: reblogs appreciated <33

#billy lenz #black christmas (1974) #billy lenz x reader #slasher x reader #₊*. ⋆༘ — requests #billy lenz x m!reader