#i'll make *direct* eye contact with this man any day

[hockybish]

MIA

l hughes sister au l lola hughes l masterlist

"Lola hasn't shown up yet has she?" Maisie asked. She was missing her future sister-in that she had gotten to know well as she was now of the only influential females in Luke's life that actually liked her.

"Her flight should be landing in a couple of hours. Once we get unloaded I'll go pick her up." Luke set a timer, to make sure he would have enough time to get there on time. "Wanna come with?"

Luke and Maisie got there with plenty of time to spare, so they took the time to just talk since they were still working things out in their own relationship.

"Shouldn't she be out by now? It's been a couple of hours."

"Yeah. She should be" Luke looked around from the spot where they were sitting. It was a high traffic day and there were quite a few people milling about.

Luke stood up to get a better look. He scanned though the crowd, only to come up empty. "Watch for her, I'm going to stand in line at the desk over there, maybe they know something?"

He stood there for what seemed like for forever. In the meantime, Luke had a chance to shoot a message to Jack and called Mason.

“No I haven’t really seen her in a week” Mason admitted to the frustrated Luke.

“Shit” Luke mumbled. The desk attendant was beckoning him forward it was his turn. “Look I gotta go. Can you look around? Maybe Z knows. Call me if you find anything”

“Likewise” mason was worried about the girl he was in love with.

Luke pocketed his phone, stepping up to talk to the lady. He grabbed the paper that had Lola’s flight itinerary on it and showed it to her.

“Can you tell me anything about this flight my sister’s on? I thought it landed a while ago but I haven’t been able to find her and she’s not answering her phone.”

The lady nodded and started typing and clicking away on her computer coming up with answer for the desperate brother.

“Well I can’t tell you whether she’s on the flight. But that plane did get in on time about an hour ago and everyone should be off by now. I’m sorry there’s not much more I can do. Maybe check baggage claim?

--

"Hey man, please tell me Lola is in Vancouver with you. And she's not missing again." Luke asked into the phone.

He raced back to the lake house, only to find Jack was the only one there. Luke dreaded calling his eldest brother, but he knew it was for the best if he did, just to check that box off.

"What do you mean, she hasn't shown up yet?!" Quinn was trying to keep his cool. He was the one to deal with their sister the last time she decided to run away.

He didn't have time for it this time.

"I don't know Q. I went to the airport to pick her up and she wasn't there. I thought maybe her flight got in early and she didn't want to wait for us, so she got a ride home. But she isn't here!"

"Fucking find her. And whatever you do, don't tell mom or dad, yet" Quinn grumbled hanging up on his brother.

He wasn't worried or at least he tried to convince himself of that. He had complete faith his brothers would find her. But just incase he started making a few phone calls of his own.

--

"Lola Clementine Hughes if you are here you better fucking come out right now! There are people worried sick about you." Trevor barged into the place where Leo had been staying.

"Guys I told you yesterday she isn't here anymore. She left." Leo jumped at the loud voice.

"She left? So she was here at some point in time?" Mason frowned. When they were there yesterday, the rookie failed to mention Lola had been there. "Do you have any idea where she went?"

"Shit. I wasn't supposed to say that." Leo looked at the ground not wanting to make direct eye contact with either of his teammates. He started picking at the skin on his thumb, his nerves starting to get the best of him.

"Carlsson tell us everything you know right now, and we'll help protect you from her brothers, who probably kill you if they knew she was at your place and you let her slide right through your fingers."

"Clem asked me not too."

"Dude. Her family is just worried about her. That's all."

He shouldn't have been so scared of her brothers or her extended family like that. but he was because that family included a lot of guys who were bigger than he was. And the thought of something happening to her brought out his stutter again.

"Uh. I ran into her in the hall before the flight to Vegas. She asked if she could stay at my place while we were gone. I told her sure. And she left a few days later. I honestly don't know where she is now. I swear!" Leo spilled the beans on what he knew.

After they interrogated the child a little more, Mason and Trevor were satisfied that he really didn't know anything more and was telling the truth.

“Where do we go now?” Mason climbed back to Trevor’s car.

“Alex” Trevor replied taking off.

"Lola what are you doing here?" Matty asked the girl who had just shown up at his door unexpectedly at three am.

He had gotten back from Boston early that morning. They had a game the next and he needed sleep if he was going to do well so they could stay alive.

"I need a place to stay for a bit. I promise you won't even know I'm here." Lola looked around the simple apartment, it could a little more furnishings, but at the same time seemed very Matty.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Michigan?" He cocked an eyebrow and pursed his lips.

Matty could tell she was running away again, he didn't care though. His home would always be open to Lola.

"I can't. Jack-" She wasn't going to get into it right now and Matt could tell and wasn't going to press the matter any further for now.

"You want to go to my game tonight, if you're not to sick of hockey. We can dress you up in Leafs' gear, no one will ever know you're there."

Lola shrugged, it could be fun

#hughes!sister au #lola hughes #mason mctavish #trevor zegras #luke hughes #quinn hughes #luke x maisie #au thoughts

[crystallizsch]

hi i bring you at this hour a jamil viper eye appreciation post for my the people's pleasure

#have some of column A and try all of column B #why would you resist snake whisper at this point #i'll make *direct* eye contact with this man any day #prolonged eye contact #idk i think i just have a thing for pretty eyes #jamil viper propaganda #[— #twisted wonderland #twst #jamil viper #★ twst rambles #—]

[1caru]

Please! Can you give us more LU in twilight’s hyrule?

More ancestor and descendant relationship between time and twilight! 🥹 *cries*

hehe I'm honored that you like my work so much and want more <3

unfortunately I already have a ton of other projects lined up, so I can't promise anything yet, but you did remind me that I wanted to write a bit of a second part to my Time and Skull Kid comic, so I whipped this up for you. it's not really edited or anything but hopefully you enjoy it anyway~

(here's the link to the comic that comes before this for anyone who hasn't seen it yet, please read it for context:

"Hold on, where's the old man?"

Twilight turned around sharply, drawing a surprised yelp from the sailor sitting on his shoulders. "What?"

"He was just here," said Four, "Did he just... wander off? That's not like him."

"Maybe he got grabbed by something!" Wind exclaimed, searching the dense foliage for any signs of monsters.

"We haven't seen any monsters since we arrived here, though," Hyrule said thoughtfully, “And we would have heard him put up a fight.”

Dread began to build in Twilight's chest as his wolfish senses caught the faintest sound of an ocarina. He lowered Wind from his back and approached Legend, pulling his map out and offering it to the veteran. "I'll go look for him. There's a Spirit Spring not far from here, wait for us there," he explained, tracing the path with his finger, "The tunnel up ahead is dark, so you'll need a lantern, but the tunnel after that is well lit and leads right to the spring. I'll be back soon."

"Hold your horses, rancher," Legend said, grabbing Twilight's shoulder with his free hand before the man could run off into the woods, "Shouldn't one of us come with you, just in case?"

"I... I think I know where he went," Twilight said softly, "Don't worry, I know every corner of these woods. Trust me."

Legend released Twilight's shoulder and watched as he almost immediately shifted into wolf form and darted back down the trail they had been following. He sighed and motioned to the rest of the group, glancing back at the map in his hand. "Well, come on then, guys."

*

Twilight raced along the scent trail, muscle memory carrying him effortlessly over tree roots and through small tunnels left by local wildlife. His ears flattened against his head in panic when he picked up Time's trail, heading in the exact direction he had predicted. Would he reach his mentor in time? Or had the man already discovered that which he should not see?

The plaintive whistle of the ocarina, which had been gradually increasing in volume, came to an abrupt halt, and Twilight's heart jumped in his chest as if to mimic it.

He was too late.

His paws slowed to a defeated trot as he approached the quiet clearing. He shifted back into his Hylian form, then silently crept through the bushes, bracing himself for what he would find.

Time knelt in the clearing with his back to Twilight, his arms wrapped around a very familiar little spirit. Just beyond them, a simple gravestone sat nestled in the mossy ground, the inscription on it as clear as the day it was chiseled:

Link, Hero and Mentor.

The spirit in Time's arms lifted his face from where it had been buried in the man's shoulder. Little yellow eyes met Twilight's pale blue ones, and the spirit gasped. “Link! Doggy Link is here too!”

Time turned in surprise, as if just remembering who he had been traveling with until ten minutes ago. He smiled at Twilight for a moment, but suddenly found it hard to make eye contact when he noticed the expression on his protege's face.

“Um, Skull Kid, would you give us a moment?” he asked softly, looking down at the spirit that was still clinging to him.

Skull Kid held on tighter, suddenly looking very scared that Time might simply vanish if he let go.

“I'm not going anywhere, I promise,” Time soothed, “I just need to talk to him. I'll stay right here, okay?”

Twilight nodded behind him.

Skull Kid studied Twilight for a moment, then looked up at Time. “...Okay,” he murmured. He picked up the ocarina he had dropped earlier and pressed it into Time's hand. “Play this when you are done, okay? You better play it!”

Time smiled. “I will.”

He watched Skull Kid hop off into the trees, then rose to his feet, cradling the little tan ocarina in his hand. His thumb ran over the polished surface, the texture so familiar yet such a distant memory. He looked back at the gravestone, suddenly regretting that time their little group had taught each other how to read their different Hylian scripts.

“Seems I've wandered somewhere I should not have gone, haven't I?” he sighed.

Twilight walked into the clearing and stood by Time's side, somberly following his mentor's gaze. “Did Skull Kid tell you anything?”

“No,” Time replied, “But actions often say more than words can.”

They stood there in silence for a moment, unsure how to approach the subject at hand.

Twilight opened his mouth to speak, but Time quickly raised a hand to stop him. “Pup, I will not ask for an explanation if you do not want to give it. The flow of time is all too easily altered after all, one little word can completely change the course of history. However,” he continued, turning towards the young man, “I've seen the way you look at me, especially when our journey began. Someone your age should not have to look so sad. If telling me about this will ease some of the burden you carry, then I am more than happy to listen.”

Twilight looked up at him, his thoughts tripping over themselves in an effort to reach a decision. He desperately wanted to tell Time everything, how he had met him, what he knew of his mentor's fate. He wanted to tell him that changing the flow of time was his greatest desire, that he wished every day for a way to save Time from a death filled with regret and sorrow. And yet, his mind always wandered to that moment, when he had dealt the final blow to Ganondorf. The blow that Time's spirit had taught him. Would he had been able to defeat the Demon King if his ancestor had not been there to guide him? Would “saving” Time ultimately mean dooming Hyrule? Would it mean dooming more young heroes after him to take up the sword and attempt what he could not accomplish?

The rancher closed his eyes and leaned forward, resting his forehead on Time's breastplate as his shoulders sagged and tears threatened to form. Time held him close, rubbing gentle circles on his arm with one hand and wrapping the other around his upper back, still clutching the ocarina.

“It's more of a memorial than a grave,” Twilight eventually spoke, "I met your spirit during my journey. You taught me your sword techniques. I suppose I just wanted to thank you by honoring your memory."

Time hummed in response. “I must have been a good teacher then. Your skills are amazing to watch in action.”

Twilight let out a watery chuckle. “They saved my life more times than I can count.” He rested in Time's arms for a moment more, then pulled away with a small smile. “I think that's all I can say for now. Go ahead and spend some time with Skull Kid, I'll tell the others you'll catch up later. Ask Skull Kid to lead you to Ordon Village when you're done.”

“Thank you,” Time said gratefully.

Twilight nodded and headed back out of the clearing.

“...You know,” Time continued, looking at the ocarina thoughtfully, “That song he was playing, it's not from Hyrule.”

Twilight paused.

“It holds a very powerful magic, one said to put the sorrows of the departed who hear it to rest and allow them to pass on peacefully.”

Pale blue eyes widened as another memory floated to the surface. A stone sitting on a mountain path, howling a song that he had mimicked without wondering what it meant. A song that had been answered by a golden wolf with a single eye. A Shade, uttering words that Twilight had almost forgotten in his worry over Time.

At last, I have eased my regrets.

Perhaps things would turn out all right in the end after all.

#lu time #lu twilight #linked universe #linkeduniverse #my writing #icaru's asks #thanks again for all the love #im glad that comic resonated with yall and i hope you enjoy this too

[generalsdiary]

flowers... for me?

gn!reader x Dan Heng

warnings: none

word count: under 1k

a/n: i read somewhere that men only receive flowers at their funeral- while this ain’t that sad nor referenced to that, it made me think of how dan heng would react to getting flowers ^^, not beta read we miss firefly in this house

description: you gift flowers to him, sweet tooth-rotting fluff

„flowers“ you extend your hands, handing over the beautiful bouquet to him. „yes. I can see. they look fresh, healthy. T- hm... tulips, I believe? I'll have to check in the data bank.“ he graciously turns around tapping on a small screen in the archive. „yes I think those are tulips. I am not as acquainted as you are with Earth's specimen, so apologies for taking a moment.“

you smile, he must be oblivious. with hands still outstretched you softly call out his name, „Dan Heng. they're for you.“ there's a pause. he slowly turns back around to face you. „flowers? for... me?“ you nod. „there's a custom to gift one's significant other with gifts and or flowers.“ smiling brightly at the stoic man with a neutral expression which to you translates that he is flustered. „I see. well then, I grow more accustomed to such traditions of this planet you cherish each day.“ his fingers caress against yours as he takes the bouquet in his hands. „…thank you“

„you should put them in a vase and add some sugar in the water so they last long, and perhaps cut the stem diagonally, they will take water in better that way.“ adorably you give him directions on how to take care of it. „please, I know how to take care of plants and similar species.“ he sighs softly and closes his eyes for a moment. “any particular reason behind this kind of flowers? aren’t roses the most popular Earth’s flower?” “they are. I chose tulips, red tulips because of their meaning. but, also, you could try searching for the meaning or what they symbolize- I don’t have to tell you~” you smirk, taking a small step back, teasing the poor man. he sighs, reaching out with his free hand to delicately take your hand in his, “tell me. it is obvious you wish so”, his lips press soft kisses over your knuckles and fingers while you answer. “among other things, they mean eternal, forever-lasting love.” his lips freeze for a moment, hovering over your hand, the faintest blush covers his cheeks. he blinks a few times, and after gaining his composure he gazes at the flowers, “I didn’t take you for the romantic type”, moving his gaze at you. “it’s hard to not be a romantic with someone as gentle and patient as you.” you just seem to be out for his heart today, he glances away. between feeling flustered and happy he is reminded of how in love with you he is.

your hand cups his cheek, thumb caressing his cheekbone, nudging him ever so slightly with soft moves to look back at you. “you might want to press one flower between the pages of a book, to preserve it.” he nods, “yes, that is a pleasant idea. in that cause, one flower shall be preserved.” he picks out a tulip, pulling it out of the bouquet, and brings it to your lips, “may I request…?” he quietly, almost like he is shy in this bold action, asks. your lips move against the soft petals, careful to not create a crease on the fragile flower. to your surprise, Dan Heng also moves, his lips meeting the petals on the opposite side of the same flower, his cyan eyes making unmoving eye contact with you, making your heart skip a beat.

the intimate moment passes, yet it leaves a warm atmosphere behind it. Dan Heng sets the single tulip aside, eyes lingering on it and his fingers move along the stem. in his mind, he is appreciating the flower, and in your eyes, those fingers are moving a bit seductively, you almost want to call him out on flirting in such a coy nature. your mind begins to imagine how those fingers would feel on your cheek, caressing in the same gentle way, and your eyes close at the comforting image.

you feel a hand on your cheek, caressing gently, “are you alright?” Dan Heng wonders, you appeared to have wandered off in your head. you open your eyes and meet his. the sight and the feeling of his touch fill you with a sense of joy, peace, and contentment. “I love you.” the words come out easily, you say them like it is the most natural thing in the world. he smiles, looking down at the flowers in his other hand, and looks back up at you. “I love you too.”

his gaze is filled with love and loyalty to you only, so when he talks the words seem to blow past the both of you as your focus is on each other, “I’ll have to ask Pom-Pom about a vase then.” “they will be more than happy to help out, I’m certain” you know how Pom-Pom is excited to be needed and they will probably be overjoyed to have such a sweet request. you depart your lips to say how he had you jealous over a flower but the words die down in your throat as you two don’t break eye contact, you smile. it is a personal, romantic moment, belonging only to you two. he blinks, smiling as well, surprisingly he also states something similar to your thoughts- which is quite unlike him, “you had me jealous over a flower. kissing it so… gingerly.” Dan Heng chuckles dryly. “will you kiss me as tenderly as it?” he makes a simple hushed plea.

“always” you move closer, your nose brushing past his, making your lips meet. and you could swear they feel softer than the tulip’s petals and taste sweeter than the flower’s nectar.

#hsr #honkai star rail #dan heng #dan heng drabble #dan heng x reader #dan heng x you #dan heng fluff #imbibitor lunae #dan heng imbibitor lunae #imbibitor lunae fluff #imbibitor lunae x reader #imbibitor lunae x you #dan heng oneshot #imbibitor lunae oneshot #dan heng writing #imbibitor lunae drabble #dan heng x y/n

[no-see-um-incorrect]

Cinnamon sugar 

another BitterSweet Trio poly Fic!!! 🩷🍪🧡 Just in time for Valentine’s Day

Hope you enjoy

No TW this time (unless there’s something I missed then please tell me)

“…Al are you sure about this?” Seth‘s voice was filled with concern as he watches his boyfriend balancing precariously on a step ladder and a few books “almost…got it..HAHA!-WHOW!” Alphonse loses his footing and falls backwards into Seth’s arms much to the smaller man’s irritation “I got it~” Al waves a fairly large, seemingly handmade book in Seth’s face before hopping out of his arms

“holy shit! is that your pops old recipe book?” Al slides into the kitchen and tosses the recipe book on the counter and Seth hops on the stool “hell yeah it is! and I’m lucky my dad made these recipes dumbass proof” “why? He knew how to cook” “HE did. me and my Ma? Nah. Better have home insurance” seth laughed and Alphones fliped the pages. Each page felt sturdy, like they got stronger with age. “He practically drilled them in my head. said “your gonna need to make food for your loved ones one day”” seth smiled down at the book of recipes “....little did he know I’d still be feeding you” Al leant over the counter to kiss his forehead, seth's face turned bright red still not quite used to that….from either of them and i don't think he ever will. “Um i *ahem* why ya getting this stuff out?” al snickers at his reaction “bet he'd have never guessed id have two people to care for~” Al attempts to lean in for a kiss but seth pushes his face away “aw come on! No kiss for ya Boi!?” “you'll get a kiss when you can stay on task” al sighs and continues reading the recipe “french toast bake plus strawberries”

“so you wanna make breakfast as a surprise for sugar?” “I need some help....and you take direction well-OW!” Seth smacks Al’s shoulder then gestures to the book “okok!..there's a list of stuff here. You get that i'll get the bowls and shit”

“And in the oven it goes. see~ i told you we could cook without catching the house on fire” “hold on now theres still time during baking” they both laugh ending in a comfortable silence.

“I'm honestly surprised sugar aint’ up yet” “well that just means we have a little more time..got any ideas?” seth thinks for a moment a devious grin appearing across his face “...yea i got one” Al slides onto the counter in front of seth “oh yea and what's tha-HM” Seth pulls him into a kiss by the collar of his sweater. The kiss lasted a few seconds when seth pulls away “how's that as a kiss for “Ya Boi” sufficient enough?” a few seconds of silence and adoring eye contact before Al speaks up “......Your gay” “THIS is why i don't try” seth attempts to walk away but gets trapped by Al’s legs “Get back here cowboy~” Al wraps his arms around seth's neck “hey~ i love you” “i love you too ya goof” “im serious. Your the cinnamon to my cinnamon sugar toast OH and Boo’s the bread cause they bake And without them…we wouldn't be together” “aw Al….that’s really sweet” they press their foreheads together basking in the soft embrace of each other

“OK who turned off my alarm!”

They both chuckle hearing their partner from the other room “Good morning Boo!” “mornin’ sugar”

I hear sugarboo’s footsteps. Alphonse hops off the counter to avoid getting scolded “oOoO something smells good in here!” “Al got the bright idea to turn your alarm off and wake me up to make breakfast” “well I don’t see the fire extinguisher anywhere, so I’m assuming everything went smoothly” Sugarboo gives them both well-deserved kisses. and sits on the barstool. The timer went off, and Alphonse is very careful taking the dish out of the oven “happy Valentine’s Day Boo!” “holy shit! That looks really fucking good! Whose recipe did you use?!” “my dad’s. he used to keep a book of all of um’ and I wanted to cook some breakfast for my two favorite people” Seth wraps his arm around Alphonse’s waist. Boo smiles with adoration in their eyes looking at their boys

“you know I’m really proud of you two. Not just for cooking, but for making it this far. You make me feel so fucking lucky” they push themselves up and wrap their arms around Alphonse and Seth

“Happy Valentine’s Day boys” they hold each other tightly and contently

“aright now let’s eat I’m fucking starving”

——————————————————————

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone🫶

I hope you all are having a great day rather celebrating alone or with someone else

Hope you enjoyed this little thing with the boys

#yuurivoice #writing #yuurivoice seth #yuurivoice fic #yuurivoice alphonse #yuurivoice sugarboo #bittersweet trio #fluff and only fluff #happy Valentine’s Day

[thatone-brightstar]

Cigarette smoke & Spices (Carmen Berzatto x fem!reader) One Shot

I made this account soley to post this cause this fucked up, broken man makes me FERAL, now i'll be on my way lol.

Word count: 3.6k

Summary: You have have gotten to know your neighbor Carmen a little too well.

You don’t know much about him. Not as much as you would like to, anyway. Just a name.

You know he arrives a little past midnight, with what seems like the burden of the world heavy on his shoulders. That despite his withering tiredness, he still steps carefully over your outstretched legs on the days he finds you too entranced in your book to move from the hallway floor.

He’s never asked why you’re there so late and in return, you never complain about the heavy metal music he likes to listen to until three in the morning. 

You do wonder, though, what it is he does that always has him arriving in a grim mood, with the stand of a nervous animal, wounded and ready to slaughter anything in sight. In a city like Chicago, you can assume anything terrible, but the trailing scent of burnt sweet onion and spices that lingers under your nose, calms the thoughts of any illicit affairs. He doesn’t look like the type, anyway. 

But then again, you don’t know much about him.

By the time you hear the elevator gears stop at your floor, your legs have gone numb between your weight and the hard carpet. You pull them from under you and stretch as far as you can with pointed toes to the wall in front of you. It’s a small hallway, so you don’t need to make too much of an effort for your skin to come in contact with the coldness of his door. You feel his heavy stomps vibrate through the floor, heavier than usual and without having to look in his direction you can tell he’s had a hard day. You smile. Those are your favorite.

You place your book by your side in sweet anticipation, pins and needles bite at your exposed legs through the skin. Soon, an ink covered hand invades your sight. The heat radiating from his body is almost enough to cauterize your fingertips as you glide them slowly across his wrist, down the back of his hand and into the cocoon of his calloused palm. You follow the vein in his arm with your eyes, how it travels up, up, up and nests between a strong jaw and neck. You can feel his impatient gaze burn into you and a smile teases your lips when your eyes finally decide to take a dip in the icy blue. He swallows hard, making your smile grow wider.

“Hard day?” you whisper, slipping your bottom lip under your upper teeth and enjoying the way his eyes flicker down to it.

“You have no fuckin’ idea…” Carmen answers in a heavy breath, then in a single movement, wraps his robust hand around your wrist and pulls you to your feet with little effort. 

You don’t get time to react to the sudden change in perspective when you feel the hard door hit your back and the cold seep through your thin shirt, then his hungry lips hunting down your own with desperation. You swallow his deep groan, satisfied to finally find soft skin. He works his skilled fingers up the skin of your thighs, bunching your shirt around your hips while you struggle to turn the nob. Even though it’s late and your neighbors are probably asleep, you’d rather not give them a show. The door clicks open and the weight of his body pushes you both in, never disconnecting your lips. He kicks the door closed and strong arms wrap around your waist, hoisting you up and pressing you with his body to the nearest wall. 

A whine mixes with the sound of sloppy kisses when you feel the hard denim of his jeans rub against the soaked fabric of your underwear and you pull him closer with your legs trying to replicate the feeling. He jerks his hips forward again to give you the friction you need, an almost painful emptiness burning at your core because he’s not nearly as close as you want him to be. With your eyes closed, you can feel his hands everywhere.  Holding the back of your thighs, roaming your abdomen and tangled in your hair at the base of your neck where he holds you still. He leaves your heaving lips to pepper kisses on your exposed skin, wet and hot that once the air touches, makes goosebumps raise immediately. 

“Wanna talk about it-?” You ask as you try to coax him into sharing what it is that burdens him, but he’s too distracted pulling your shirt over your shoulders to pay attention. 

Your tits bounce with the rhythmless movements of his grinds and his patience shrinks even more as he latches onto the soft flesh, tongue covering every bit of your skin with messy licks that have you gasping for air. The room echoes with the obscene sounds sucking and your panting sighs.

“Couch or bed?” You hear him ask, breathless. 

He’s digging his teeth over your collarbone, until the skin grows sensitive and red, a remnant you’ll wake up to when he’s long gone in the morning. 

“Bed” you answer, too entranced in his torturous mouth to form clear sentences. 

The hard wall is replaced by rough palms that keep you pressed to his chest as he maneuvers through the dark living room. Muscle memory guides him in the all familiar space, past your kitchen and through your bedroom door, to the bed he had grown accustomed to. You slide over it gently when he loosens his grip on your form, hair spreading around your flushed face while  you wait impatiently for him to finish undressing. You stretch to the length of the bed, sighing as tension releases from locked joints and when you finally hear the metal of his belt ‘clinck’ on the wooden floor, you lift your head and stare at him through locks of messy hair. Your lip catches  between your teeth at such a beautiful sight, him standing there all lean muscle and hard cock, glistening in anticipation and drawing saliva into your needy mouth. 

You push yourself up to rest on spread out knees, inching closer to his immobile form, then wrap soft fingers around the thick velvet flesh. A shutter leaves his chest and his eyes close when you rake the nails on your other hand up across his hard abdomen and to the back of his neck. The soft flick of your wrist, paired with sultry kisses along his neck and chest, have him thrusting involuntarily into your fist and hands gripping tightly at the side of your hips. You brush your lips along his stubble, the prominent line of his nose and back down to bite his bottom lip.

“D’you wanna talk about it, Carmen?” You whisper again over his lips when you see the ever present frown above his brow hasn’t faded. His name tastes like sugar cubes in your mouth, making you smile at the way he reacts to hearing it from your lips.

Your grip tightens over his girth and you drag your palm slowly when he doesn’t give you an answer. His eyes open suddenly and the blown out look he gives you through hooded brows has thick waves of heat overwhelming your body.

“Do I ever?” He finally answers with a sighed laugh.

That’s the first laugh you’ve gotten out of him and you do your best to ignore the softness it brings to your chest. “Worth a shot” You say shrugging, then latch on to his waiting lips again and resume your hand’s movements.

A surprised gasp leaves your chest as his hands grope the back of your thighs to pull you forward, tilting your balance and making you fall on your back against the soft covers. His hands roam impatiently to your hips, pulling at the last piece of clothing covering you, only to throw it somewhere in the mess of clothes. With one knee resting on the mattress, he pulls at your ankles to have you closer, then leans down to press teasing kisses up your soft skin as he crawls over you. 

His mouth travels in a messy line over your knee, thigh and hip bone, completely avoiding the prominent heat on the inside of your thighs. He yearns to do it, to rub his nose against your slit and taste you so deep that the tartness will linger heavy on his tongue onto the next day, but he knows he can’t. That sort of intimacy is only reserved for matters of the heart, for partners in love who know each other- body and soul-, and you two are anything but. So instead he focuses higher up, licking and nibbling at your breasts and the tender nipples that never disappoint to perk up when he exhales rapidly over them.

You tangle your fingers in the mess of his hair at the feeling of his knees pushing your legs open, then when the skin of his strong thighs begins to rub over your aching core, your nails dig into the sensitive scalp with a gasp. It’s soft at first, like he’s testing your reactions and as you plant your feet around him and push down to meet his actions with urgency, you feel his lips grow into a smile above your skin.

“Fuckin’ tease…” You mumble through gasps, the comment increasing the erratic movements that almost have you shaking over the surface of the bed.

A cry scratches your throat and you tilt your head back when his hand snakes down and applies pressure over it with his palm moving in circles. Your nails rake from his head to his shoulders and he moans over your chest, the skin overly sensitive and wet.

“Just put it in- already..” You whine and he laughs again. That’s two more than ever, but who’s counting.

“What’s the fun in that?” He teases with a heavy breath, but readjusts his position so your thighs rest above his and the thick head of his cock brushes over the hot flesh of your entrance.

He plants his hands by your head with his hanging low and eyes trained on the way you swallow his member as he sinks in inch by inch. The smokey scent from his golden hair and the sweet stretch of him filling you up has your head pounding from the rush of blood and ears only tuning into static. He feels incredibly hot above you, strong biceps caging you in between his hot skin and the mattress. You bite your lip to control the shameful moan trying to escape when he finally settles completely inside you. 

“Fuck-” His eyes are closed and his breathing is ragged for a few agonizing seconds before he pulls back and rolls his hips into you again and again. 

His pace is constant and firm enough that you wrap your hands around his wrists so the force of his thrusts don’t push you away. Still, you can feel him holding back when blown pupils meet yours and his movements falter down lightly. So you give him a little push by taking one of his firm hands and wrapping it around your neck, never letting your sight  leave his.

“Jesus fuck-” He shudders with an exhale and a soft grin.

“Is that all you got, pretty boy?” You ask between pants and a similar grin.

His brows raise in surprise at your sudden teasing and he shakes his head in amusement. His eyes meet yours again, an indescribable gleam visible in the low light of your room and you’re about to question why he’s stopped moving, before he pulls out completely, takes his hand from your neck and effortlessly flips you - so that now your stomach is firmly on the bed. The sudden action pulls a squeal from your throat. You want to turn around to throw another remark, but his hand falls abruptly on the plump flesh of your ass and a guttural groan escapes instead.

“That what ya wanted?” He asks with an edge to his voice as he pulls the front of your thighs back and up, spreading your knees to the sides.

You’re barely recovering from the wave of pleasure his smack caused when a new wave hits at the roughness of two of his fingers plunging into exposed cunt. You’re groaning into the sheets and fisting the covers with all your strength as the bubble in your abdomen grows too quickly. One of his hands holds you hard against the mattress while the other works you into a mess of moans and high pitched gasps with dexterous fingers. He leans over you to kiss your shoulder blades and the dip of your spine, mumbling how good you look trembling under him.

“You could’a just asked…” He whispers while slowing down his teasing fingers, giving you a few seconds to heave in some needed air.

Your sweaty forehead rests over the disarranged sheets as blows of air rattle your chest, along with the pounding of your heartbeat. In the back of your mind, you register his hand rubbing along the length of your spread out thighs, then up to knead the plushness of your ass.

“Not so cocky now, huh?” His amused voice looms over you and his warm breath cools your sweat slickened skin.

You exhale a soft laugh, opening your eyes and tilting your head back to see his amused expression. “ I could be cockier, if only you helped…” 

His grin grows as his eyes drink in the last drop of blue and his chest is now flat over your back, cock hard and throbbing against your ass cheeks. 

No anticipation could prepare you for the moan that claws out from your throat the moment he slips back inside, with even more fervent energy. The new position has you somehow feeling him thick and hot against your stomach and the strength that he deposits into every thrust has you clawing at anything you can get your hands on. You don’t know where the ardent giggle comes from, but it’s there, accompanied by a shrill “Oh my fuck- Carm-!” that comes out more whinier than you would like. He groans into your neck at the desperate call of his name and how fucking good it sounds coming from your panting lips.

“God- so fuckin hot-” He mumbles into your skin, nipping the base of your neck with his teeth and pulling a shaking moan that fills him with pride. “Always so fuckin’ ready for me aren’t ya?”

You're at the mercy of the steady and harsh snap of his hips. Tears pick at the corner of your eyes and watercolors bleed together in swirls of blues as you claw at the covers while strong thighs slam behind you.

Your skin feels hot and cold at the same time and the constant gasps do nothing for the lack of oxygen burning at your lungs, more from him knocking out every attempt to breathe than from the grip he has around your throat. You can feel your pulse heavy on your clit, but before you can reach down to touch yourself, he pushes your back hard down on the bed with a grunt and slows down his movements to a stop. 

His ragged breathing blows cold over your searing skin for a few seconds, then he pulls out and lays beside you on the bed, panting. He turns to see your amused expression at the sudden halt, then grins slightly for the fifth time that night.

“Shut up.” He says before you speak, like he just knows you're about to tease him over losing his breath during sex.

“I wasn’t saying nothing!” You joke and rest your head up your elbow, looking down at his tinted skin. “But you really should stop smokin’...” You add.

Carmen’s brow creases in confusion, then when you swing your aching thigh over his hips and plant your palms over his hard chest, his face turns to surprise. This is the first time in the months that you’ve been doing this, that you’re the one on top. 

“How’d you know I smoke?” He asks with crystal eyes scanning your face and large palms rubbing up and down your thighs.

You shrug, taking his pulsing cock in your hand and giving it a few jerks that pull the air from his lungs. You raise on your knees and angle the glistening head to rub teasingly at your folds. 

“You always smell like it. It’s kinda hot.” You respond, then sink down slowly to feel the mouthwatering stretch once again. 

He groans, throwing his head back from the tightness the new angle offers, but then looks up to you again because there’s something about the way you’re looking at him that makes his chest ache. You dig your nails into his strong stomach as you raise up then fall back down on his length with a roll of your hips, always looking down at him through strands of messy locks. You continue at a slow pace, savoring how his tip seems to push against a special spot that has waves of tingles roaming down your thighs. 

Your mouth hangs open as you speed up your movements and he meets you halfway with the strong snap of his hips and the firm grip on your waist. He pulls you into his chest at the same time his hands push your hips down and another involuntary high pitched gasp rasps at your throat. He swallows it down gladly as he devours your mouth with a seething necessity you hadn’t felt before and the constant push of his grip on your hips has you panting shamefully against his lips.

“Fuck- shit Carm, you’re gonna make me-” He thrusts his hips painfully hard that it knocks the words from your mouth.

You’re drenched in sweat and surrounded by the obscene sound of smacking skin and hefty smell of sex, but all you can register is the moaning, broad shouldered man underneath you. Wild sapphire eyes dance around your pleasure filled face and Carmen swears he had never found you more attractive than in this moment- sweaty, flushed and kiss- swollen. He doesn’t know what takes over him as he reaches up to caress your cheek, or where he gets the bravery to effortlessly flip you over so you’re back where you began- choking for any sliver of air that he pushes back out with his persistent thrusts.

“So fuckin’ beautiful-” He moans into your neck.

You claw at his back, scratches he knows will bring a grin to his usual cold features when he stares into the broken mirror in his bathroom tomorrow morning. You’re a mess of pleas and incoherent mumbling that can only be silenced by his feverish kisses as he cradles your face in his strong palms.

He feels the familiar tight and hot grip around his cock and a primal instinct to speed up his thrusts takes over him. You wrap your trembling thighs hard around his hips and swallow every groan that escapes his throat. You feel the bubble in your abdomen grow incredibly quick and tight until it bursts into waves of pleasure that have your toes curling and your back arching impossibly closer to him. 

You don’t exist for a few wonderful seconds. There’s no up or down as you float through existence like a still feather. There’s only the weight of the man above you holding you like a lifeline. A fuck shaped moan cascades from his lips as he feels your walls spasm against him and the sensitivity is too much that he follows behind your orgasm after a couple more delicous thrusts.  

Through your cloudy haze, you feel him break above you, the heaves that brush your neck and the thick liquid that fills you up as he comes inside you. His arms tremble slightly by your head, trying to maintain his weight and you could blame the intensity of the moment on your actions, but you snake your arms over his strong shoulders and pull him down to rest on your chest.

Despite the fact that you’ve been sleeping around with each other for the past few months, you can feel that something was different about this time, like a barrier had been broken or an invisible line had been crossed for both of you. You’re not going to ask, though. You’d rather bask in the post orgasm bliss that washes over you.

Carmen groans tiredly as he pulls out of you and lays by your side to see your relaxed face and closed eyes.

“We’re-uh- we’re gonna have to talk about it, aren’t we…” He mumbles with a small smile as he rakes his fingers through his sweaty hair, tired eyelids closing involuntarily as the weight of the excruciating day finally falls off his shoulders.

You hum softly, then feel around you for the covers that you gently drape over your naked bodies routinely. You both lay in a strange silence with eyes fixed on your ceiling, not a bad silence just… different.

“Yeah…” You whisper back and turn to bright blue eyes that finally lack the worn out and exhausted expression his rugged brows give him. “But it can wait ‘till tomorrow.”

You turn your back to him, adjusting the pillow under you. 

A strong arm snakes around you over the covers that pulls you to a warm chiseled chest, you can feel his erratic heartbeats mixing with your own and you smile when soft lips graze carefully on the curve up your shoulder.

“Tomorrow.” He whispers back with the tenth smile of the night.

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x you #the bear fx #carmy berzatto #carmy the bear #carmy x reader #carmy smut #the bear tv #carmy berzatto headcanon #the bear headcanon #carmy berzatto imagines #carmy berzatto fluff #carmen berzatto smut #carmy berzatto smut #carmen 'carmy' berzatto

[rubra-wav]

can you write more about Vox making reader grind on his foot(as seen in “Really? Here?” Vox x reader smut)? Preferably afab reader but go wild with it. TV man won’t get out of my head

Vox x reader smut : If You're That Desperate..

A/N I'm surprised that that's what you fixated upon with that one but cannot blame you, ngl. Although, I'd be feral about a role reversal in that situation personally.. 😏🫶

Accidentally hit post on this a but early but it should be alright HEHDH

Cw: NSFW/18+, afab!reader/gn!prns used, domtop Vox/bottom reader, bondage, humiliation, edging, sadism, Vox being an asshole

- You had been teasing Vox the entire day, riling him up all while playing innocent.

- It was as if you were so horny you couldn't think straight, and that didn't exactly work well with his long work day.

- When you awoke, you pressed a kiss against his neck softly while 'absentmindedly' brushing your hand across the back of his screen and gently dragging your pointer across the sensitive ports on the back.

- Vox had jolted with an audible gulp, looking up at you with a somewhat questioning expression as you pulled back before deciding you were surely just tired.

- At breakfast, you had fake dropped a knife on the floor to crawl down under the table in an overly exaggerated way, putting a hand on Vox's thigh as if to steady yourself before looking up at the surprised demon from in between his legs before getting out from under the table again like nothing happened. That one had him sparking.

- It was when you came into his office to give him papers, and you'd leaned down right in front of him from where he sat in his chair with your ass right in front of his lap to place down the stack of pages that he'd caught on that you were doing everything on puprose and lost it a bit.

- Vox went on angrily with bright blue flush painting his cheeks about how you should've known better than to disrupt him while he was working.

- He inwardly cursed himself because he then did something he probably shouldn't have. You 'misbehaving' in his eyes should not have been met with any kind or 'reward', however, he was very much in the mood after everything that had happened during the day.

- "If you want to act like a slut then I'll treat you as much." He grumbled, waving a clawed hand through the air to prompt various unused power chords to shoot out from all different directions and wrap around you, pushing you onto your knees in front of him.

- That's what brought you to your current predicament.

- You let out a soft moan as you ground your hips forward into the toe of his shoe, being promptly robbed of what little contact you were getting the next second.

- “What did I say?” Vox said sharply, blue light bearing down on you as he looked in your direction.

- You looked up pleadingly at him, lip trembling as your watery eyes blinked owlishly at his half-hearted harsh expression.

- “D-don't distract you while you're working.” You said softly, eyes avoiding his in embarrassment with a slight ‘tsk’.

- Vox grinned cruelly at your expression and compliance to put yourself in this humiliating situation.

- It showed just how much you were craving him.

- The demon grit his teeth, forcing his eyes back to his screens as he pressed his shoe back against your clothed sex.

- He revelled in the gasp you made as he slowly began moving his foot up and down again against your crotch.

- The wires wrapping around you dug into your skin, leaving small pink marks as they slithered around your body to rub against areas that were sensitive over your shirt and pants.

- You took a shuddering breath and began rutting your poor cunt against the stiff leather of his shoe for the umpteenth time since this agony had begun.

- You squeezed your eyes shut and bit down on your lip hard to keep from making any sounds as you finally felt your release building up passed where you'd been robbed of what little contact you had.

- Vox watched you despite his more logical side yelling to just get on with this so he could go finally bone you after finishing up, shifting somewhat uncomfortably with the arousal he was ignoring.

- He momentarily glitched as he admired the tears beading at the corners of your eyes, hair a mess and plastered to your forehead with sweat despite how cold it was in his broadcast room.

- A relieved moan escaped your lips as you lost yourself in your pleasure, just a few seconds from your release.

- Vox bit down on his lip, silently laughing with an evil grin on his face as he pulled his foot away again.

- You let out an angry whine, shaking your head and pushing against the wires. "F-fuck you, you asshole." You cursed at him, tears falling down your cheeks as you glared up at him.

- Vox snickered, leaning down to take your chin in his hand and forcing you to look up at him. "I don't think you're in any position to say such things." He revelled in the way you cringed.

- You really weren't, and he knew that. It was terrible the way that turned you on despite the relentless teasing he'd been putting you through.

-"I trust you've learnt your lesson, yes?" He cooed patronisingly to you. You sniffled, slowly nodding despite how badly you wanted to tell him to piss off.

- "Good." The simple word and the tone it was said in sent shivers down your spine. The hand on your chin let you go, and you let out a surprised squeak, the cables wrapping around your limbs suddenly curled up under your clothes before promptly ripping them to shreds.

- You squirmed again, skin now covered in goosebumps as the freezing cold air of the room hit you. "Shit- it's too damn cold in here vo- mff!" You're cut off as his shoe is ground hard against you again, cables moving to tease your cold-hardened nipples as you whined.

- Your embarrassment fell away quickly as it became clear you were finally being awarded release after all the bullying you'd been put through.

- Vox gave up trying to do the small amount of shit he had to do to watch the much more interesting show you were putting on for him, now humping his foot like some kind of animal in heat without even a lick of dignity - it being seemingly shred with the clothes he'd ripped from you.

- Again disregarding the fact that this was far from the place for this kind of thing, he undid his pants and pulled out his neglected erection with a somewhat relieved growl as he focused upon you with apt concentration, stroking himself.

- Your hands balled up from where they were pinned to your sides, eyes cracking open to look into his face as you lost yourself to the growing pleasure coursing through you with breathy gasps.

- You couldn't see his expression, but you could guess pretty well as he growled from above you. "Yeeeah, look at me like that."

- You arched your back with a loud exclamation as the knot of pleasure which had been getting constantly wound up, then down again finally grew to snap within you and the aching release that you craved finally was given to you.

- After the few seconds of heavenly bliss were afforded to you, you crashed right back to hell again as you once again felt the freezing cold air biting at you.

- You shivered as you felt the cables digging into you unwrap your now cramped limbs, and instead felt Vox lift you into his arms and hoist you up bridal style against him.

- You relaxed into in his hold and warmth with a heavy sigh before looking up to be greeted with his terribly smug face.

- "I hope you don't honestly think that's the end of this, dollface. You may have gotten off but I sure as hell fucking haven't."

- You inwardly rolled your eyes, even more flustered as you considered not only what you'd just lowered yourself enough to do for him but also what would follow.

- You knew bratting out on him while he was like this would just make him all the more of an asshole with you, so you opted to murmer an "alright."

I do not think I could ever write him as a soft top because bro would just devolve into being sadistic and/or overly excited at having you under him 💀

Masterlist

#vox #vox headcanons #vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin hotel #vox hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader

[beskarinhyperspace]

The Intern

It's Halloween night and you work on set with Hayden Christensen. 

Who wants to party with Anakin? 

Hayden/ Anakin x Gn Reader  

AO3 | MASTERLIST

*Mature, Explicit, NSFW*

Warnings; shy hayden, soft dom, n3pple play, or4l- hayden.receiving, praise, soft degradation 

Happy Halloween!

WC; 3k

You only been working here for 3 months. Getting everyone their coffees and scripts. Making sure that everything goes as smoothly as possible for the cast members and directors. But this internship was getting on your last nerve. How can anyone survive these boring and unchallenging tasks. This is truly unfulfilling you tell yourself as you eat your lunch alone in the cafeteria. You only took the job because you needed to be more “involved on set and understand the flow” as your professor puts it.  

As you play with your macaroni salad with a plastic spoon, you hear someone entering the room. By instinct, you bring your eyes up to meet a handsome man. 

“Oh, sorry I didn’t mean to disturb..” cutting himself mid-sentence.  

“Oh no, no worries, you're not.” You reply mindlessly not fully realizing that it's Hayden Christensen who just entered the break room. You wouldn't say that you're easily starstruck, but you must admit, he looks better in person. 

He smiles timidly, going towards the coffee machine. “Got to have my caffeine. I- woke up early.” saying nervously. 

Watching him try to make small talk is utterly painful. He doesn't need to talk to you. So why is he acting so weird? 

“Busy?” You asks, trying to sound casual. 

“Yeah, I mean, I was in Seattle yesterday. Matter of fact I just landed here not even two hours ago.” Saying as he clicks a plastic lid on his coffee cup. “What's your name? Wait don't tell me. This way I know I'll see you again.” He smiles to you before looking at his watch. “I'm really sorry, I have to go. See you around I guess..” 

“Bye” you finally speak out, but he was already out the door. What the fuck just happened?  

For the rest of the day, you couldn't stop thinking about the most pathetic celebrity encounter you have ever had in your life, yet. I mean he's a big celebrity and he's busy. He said so himself. It's not like you're going to see him again, right? 

“Hey newbie, the director wants a round of coffee. He's also asking if you contacted the new hairstylist to see if they can come tomorrow instead of Wednesday?”  

“I did, she said yes, and I'll go get them shortly.” You reply nonchalantly. The other assistant simply smiles at you before walking away. Ugh, can this day be any worse? This is the 5th coffee run today and you only have an hour left to your shift. Without wasting any time, you go straight to your car. Not wanting to stay overtime again. Especially not today. Once behind the wheel, you sigh as you decide to have a look at your face. Jeez, I really look tired. I can't believe I just met him looking like this. What am I saying? It's not like I have a chance anyway.. 

With 10 min left to your shift, you only have a couple coffees left to deliver. Opening the director's office door. You quickly recognize Hayden’s side profile.  

What is he still doing here? Never mind, just stay professional.  

“I'm here Jay, bringing the hot!” You say with a bright smile. 

You hear a clear sigh coming from Hayden’s direction as you put the coffees on the meeting's table. As you try to look discreetly in his direction, you're met with his intense gaze. Why is he looking at me like that? He wasn't like that earlier.. Did I do something wrong?  

“Thank you, I really needed that. Hey, listen kid, would you mind staying later tonight?” Jay asks casually while scribbling in his notebook. 

“I–“ tonight is Halloween night and some of your friends invited you to join them at a party. Usually, you would've said no but this job had been so draining lately. You just want a little break. 

He stops writing to look at you properly, “I know you've been staying late a lot but that's only because I trust you kid. You're doing an incredible job here..” 

“I'm okay with it, I mean that's the least I can do before I leave.” You say calmly trying to not let your annoyance show through. 

He gives you a weak smile before returning to his scribbles. “Anita was looking for you earlier, I think she's in costume right now.” 

“I'll go check, anything else?”  

“I think you'll be pretty busy with her tonight, I'll let you work with her. If anything, I'll fetch you.” 

You nod before turning around. Fighting back the urge to look at Hayden again before leaving. Stay professional, this will never happen. We don't want him to think you're just another stupid fan. Just stay cool..” 

You sigh walking towards Anita’s workshop. As you walk the corridors, you feel a strong hand gripping your arm. You turn to a taller men with frowning brows. 

“Hey, um, I'm sorry. It's just I've been yelling and–“ You look to Hayden puzzled. “I guess what I'm trying to say is, um, ask, would you go out after with me?”  

You look at him like you have a million questions inside your head. While he looks at you anxiously waiting. “I work late tonight.” 

He nervously passes a hand in his hair, “right, yes, that's true. Shit, I'm sorry I shouldn't have bothered you. Have a great night..” he says looking at the floor, slowly walking away. 

What the actual fuck? Ugh, I'm going to regret this.. “I'm off at 11.” Raising your voice to make sure he hears you. 

He smiles as he faces you. “What's fun to do around here at 11?” 

His smile is truly contagious, making you blush automatically, “I was invited for a Halloween party-” 

“Cool, I'll come back to pick you up 11:30” walking away once again before you could place another word. 

Oh jeez, what did I get myself into.. 

-- 

You were doing some final make up touches before heading out the door. This year's last-minute costume is a vampire. As you're drawing some electric reddish veins underneath your eyes you can't stop thinking about the fact that you're going to a party with fucking Hayden Christensen. How did this happen? How are you going to explain this to your friends? This is going to be a big problem. You try to calm yourself down. Telling yourself that this is just a friendship situation. Omg is he a womanizer? No, that can't be it. He looked way too nervous to be one, right?  

It's 11:35 and you're patiently waiting outside when a car enters the driveway. Seeing it's him, you walk towards the car, opening the door. As you're putting your  seatbelt on, you can feel the heavy energy in the air as if you were being observe.  

“Wow” you hear him say softly in a low voice. “You really look good.” Shyly, you bring your eyes up to be met by his, looking at you shamelessly. He clears his throat quickly as he realize his behaviour, “where to?” he finally asks. 

“Omg”— “What??” 

“You can't wear that.” You say almost horrified. 

He laughs knowing exactly what you’re referring to. “It’s not that bad” 

“This, this is your Anakin costume..” you state gesturing his outfit. 

“Don't worry about it.” 

“Do you seriously believe that this is discrete? Everyone will know it's you. You have a pretty memorable face you know.”  

He laughs even more, “So I've been told. Stop, I told you, don't worry. Just tell me where it is.” 

“I don't know if I should, maybe you're a kidnapper.” you say nonchalantly. 

He tries not to laugh as he bites his lower lips. “Then we can stay here.” 

“We?” 

“Yeah, I mean don't get me wrong I like a party as much as the next person but, I want to know you. I don't mind where we are as long as I can talk to you.” 

You can't control your smile as you feel warmth in your stomach. Suddenly the self-doubts and questioning just fades away. This is a date.. omg, you're on a date with him.. you clear your throat, “I’d like to go, I really need this.” 

“Stressed?” Asking as he punches the address in the map app and starts to drive.  

“You could say that.” 

“Yeah, I'm familiar with the feeling. The ‘set’ life isn't always glamorous.” 

“You're an actor, it's different, you're the star.” 

He bites his bottom lip before replying, “well, the pressure is like no other. There are so many fans, so many critics. You need to have a thick skin. Plus you have to put yourself in so many weird situations. Trust me, it's stressful.” 

“Yeah, I guess you're right, I never saw it like that.”  You replied as he smiles softly. You notice that you've been quite comfortable in his presence compared to earlier this morning. He looks so self-assured and in control of himself you tell yourself. How can he be so grounded?  

During the ride you finally get to relax and enjoy your small talks. That was until you finally arrive at the party. Now all you can think about is the fact that your plus one is Hayden. As you both walk towards the house door, you can already hear the music blasting from outside.  

“Heyyy!!”—“You came!” You hear your friends calling. 

“Yeah, I actually just finished work–“ 

“–OMG are you the real Anakin? Like the actor?”— “I think his name is Hayden.”— “that's not him, that can't be him.” 

“Yeah, well, I always been told we looked alike, so I went with an Anakin costume this year.” Hayden responds smiling casually to the others. 

“You don't say” —”well it’s uncanny, you really do look like him.” One girl lets out. 

You roll your eyes, “stop bothering my friend. Anyways, we're gonna have a look around, we'll be right back” stating as you both walk away. “I told you that dressing as Anakin was a bad idea..” you say leaning towards him. 

He turns his head slightly to you as he tries to hear you better over the loud music, “Then let's get out of here. You know, to a place we can actually hear each other?”  

“Yeah, let's get out.” You reply and he doesn't waste a second. Guiding you back to the car. “Where now?” You ask as you put on your seatbelt back on. 

“I know a place near.”  

As you watch the car lights passing over him. You can't help but smile, he is so handsome, so hot.. Especially in his battle attire. “You do that often?” 

“What do I do often?” Glancing quickly in your direction. 

“Kidnapping interns on set.” 

He automatically let out some low giggles. “Ahh, huh, um no..” he answered shyly. “I don't..” Before you could place a word, he enters a hidden dirt road. 

“Oh, so you did plan to murder me.”  

He gives you a smirk, “Nah, you're way too pretty for me to kill..”  

-- 

After a moment you stop in front of a wooden bridge. “What is this place?”  

“Patience” he simply respond as he stops the car. “Come” 

You follow him without hesitation, crossing the bridge before going deeper into the woods. “Is it safe?” You asks voice worried. 

He takes your hand as he leads, “I used to come here all the time when I was a teenager.” 

“You grew up here?” 

He chuckles, “No, my aunt lived nearby. I used to visit every summer for a month with my mother.”  

After a few minutes of walking off road you finally arrived at a secluded part of a lake. “Woah, it's so pretty.. I lived here all my life, and I never knew this place existed.” You were truly amazed by the view. The moon was almost full. Shining it's light on the lake like diamonds on calm waters. Making everything a little more visible in this otherwise very dark night. 

“I can't believe it, it's still there-” you hear him say from afar. You glanced at him, watching him drag a tree trunk towards you. “-Look” he says pointing to a part of the trunk.  

·The true Skywalker was here· 

You smile as you read it, “You wrote that? How fitting, you're even dress for the occasion.” You state gesturing to his costume. 

“Ha, yeah, I haven't come here in ages. Last time I came to visit, I made a little stop here. I had just received the call to play Anakin and I knew the role would change my life. I know it sounds stupid but, I wanted something to remember the old me by.” He responds as he looks at you nervously. “You're really beautiful tonight.” saying low, almost a whisper. Coming to close the gap between you. 

“Thank you, and no, it’s not stupid. I actually think it’s pretty cool..” You don't know if it's the proximity, his firm yet soft voice or the fact that you would literally do anything he'd ask you to, but you can already feel the pulsing need in between your legs. Is he really going to kiss me? You wondered.  

As if he could hear your mind, he presses his pillowy lips softly against yours. Humming as he does. “Since I saw you this morning this is all I can think about.” 

“What?” You ask confused. 

“I couldn't look away; you were constantly on my mind. I had to know you more.” He says passing his hands on your chest over the clothes. “Is this, okay? C-can I know more of you?” 

You swallow, “yes of course, I'd love to.” trying not to sound too desperate.  

He smirks and omg, his smile mixed with desire is to die for. He goes back to your mouth with his lips slightly parted. Pushing his tongue gently inside. Jeez even his spit is sweet. Meanwhile, his hands were going underneath your shirt, moving upwards. He growls low when reaching your nipples. Brushing them lightly with his cold fingertips before he starts to flicker them. 

You try to stay grounded but it's becoming really difficult. His eyes were burning with desire as he watch you melt under his touch. “Wow, we just started and you're already so needy.” 

“I'm sorry” you say slightly embarrassed. 

“Don't be, I love it.” He purrs, moving slightly lower as he brings your shirt up, exposing your entire chest to him. “Mm, would you look at that. They're already hard and ready for me.” Stating as he brings his wet lips around your hardened nipple. Giving it some gentle sucks as his thumb flickers and rolls the other one.  

Oh god, this feels amazing.  

He hums deep, switching between them as his mouth licks and bites them gently. You're pretty sure that if he doesn't stop you might just cum like this. “Fuck, you're so hot. I bet you also feel so good and soft elsewhere” You nod while moaning as you feel the need growing inside you belly. “Can I feel you?” 

“Yes, please, anything.” 

He smiles kissing your lips, nibbling at your bottom one. He starts to undo his belt and you automatically drop to your knees. “Hey, that's not– “ 

“I want to.” you say smiling against his bulge. You start to unzip his pants letting his harden cock spring free. Geez even his penis is gorgeous. Long and thick with a little bead of precum already leaking from the tip. You can clearly see the veins pumping as it twitches with anticipation. 

“Are you still sure?” He asks laughing discretely. Aware of your startled eyes. 

You don't bother to answer as you start to shyly lick the tip of it. You hear him chuckle softly as he closes his eyes to the pleasure. Which only drives you with more heat as you start to stretch your mouth around him. “Ugh, this feels soo good sweetheart. You're doing such a great job” his words are only encouraging you to finally take it full. Sucking him like you never sucked before. Gaging slightly when you made it hit the back of your throat, but it didn't matter. Because his moans and panting were the best reward you ever had. His head falls back as his pleasure grow. 

Becoming desperate, you needed some relief. Bringing your hand down, you begin to play with yourself while still moaning around his cock. 

He quickly notices it as he passes his hand in your hair. Petting your head before grabbing a fist full of it. “Argh fuck yes, you're so fucking good baby. So, fucking good with this mouth, omg. Such a pretty mouth on such a pretty babe.”  

The praises are just too much. You can feel him fighting the urge to thrust into your mouth. Making touch yourself with desperation as he almost chokes up. “Wait, are you going to cum like this?” You nod as you continue to pump him inside your mouth. Feeling your sweet release near. “Oh, fuck..” he says surprised, “I didn't know you were so needy.” as he's softly pinching one of your nipples.  

And that does it.  You finally feel the waves of pleasure as your eyes closes slightly. Having your mouth fully open during your peak, making his cock loosely slides freely on your tongue. “Shit, you're so hot when you come like that. Please, can I come on your chest?” 

You simply smile as you present your bare chest to him. Playing with your nipples, rolling them in between your fingers. You watch him stroke himself as he grunts low.  Panting as he brings himself closer to the edge. “Agh, you're so god damn pretty..”  He finally cums, letting his juices drip freely drip on your nipples. 

“Fuck, you're so perfect sweetheart..”  

#anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin imagine #hayden christensen #kinktober 2023 #kinktober #star wars #halloween smut #halloween kinktober #anakin fic #anakin smut #sw anakin #anakin skywalker #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker imagines #anakin skywalker x reader #star wars imagine #star wars anakin #anakin x fem reader #anakin skywalker x female reader #anakin skywalker x you #star wars smut #anakin fanfiction #anakin x y/n #anakin skywalker fic

[russellsppttemplates]

I'm in this if you are (Lance Stroll)

Lance wants to show you how wonderful love can be

Note: english is not my first language. this is a long piece that I hope will keep the interactions back up (I love getting your requests and overall having you interact with the posts and having some random thoughts shared too!), so I hope you enjoy this piece as this is my first Lance request * nervous giggles *

Thank you so much to everyone who likes and reblogs, your feedback is appreciated 🤍 and I'm taking requests so if you have any ideas or concepts you want to share, feel free to do so as I'll try to get to them the best I can!

Tw: mentions (bad) past relationships, curse words

my masterlist

"Is it okay if we meet up at the park instead?", you suggested to Lance over the phone, "it's only a five minute walk from work for me", earning an affirmative answer on the other side of the line as well as a farewell.

Packing your backpack with your laptop and a book you had to bring home for the weekend, switching everything off and ringing your card so you could get yourself out, heading for the park Lance was meeting you at.

It was something new, so you were being cautious. After all, you had fallen for people before who weren't good for you in the end, so you had learnt to keep your distance. But did you hope that maybe this time it would be different. The Canadian young man and you have been spending some time together after meeting through a mutual friend, and today was no different since he had texted you earlier if you would be up for a stroll in the park after you were done from work, having you accept it and even letting yourself feel giddy about it.

Following the directions he gave you, you saw him sitting in the bench like he had told you, getting up once he saw you and coming closer to you, "Hi, how are you?", he said, giving you a big hug and a kiss on the cheek, "Hi, I've been good, very happy that it's Friday so I get the to be home for the weekend. And you, busy day?", you greeted him back and continuing to walk alongside him, "yeah, the meeting was about the last few things we need to sort out before the race next weekend, so it got a bit longer than I expected but it was all good, means I didn't have to wait too long for you, but I did get you these", he said, showing you a small white paper bag, leaving you to open it.

The small sticker that closed the bag was enough to get you to gasp, recognising your favourite bakery chain's logo, "you say they always run out in the shop they have near your office, so I dropped by the one close to the factory to see if they had some and they did", Lance smiled, seeing you smile back at him, "thank you! Do you want to go and enjoy these by the lake?", you suggested, seeing that it wasn't too busy around there.

Sitting down on the dry grass, you and Lance sat in front of eachother, talking about your day and laughing at funny moments from eachother's day while sharing the croissants he had gotten, "thank you, again, you didn't have to", you pointed to the empty bag, whisking any crumbs away from your lips and clothes, "it was only fair that I got to try "the best croissants ever" according to you, and since I had some time to kill before I met you here, and it is always a pleasure to see your eyes sparkle like that", he said softly, noticing the blush on your cheeks and your shyness coming through, taking the hint to keep talking, "and a croissant like this after a long meeting and at a park like this with this company, there's not much more than I want".

.

You were dancing around in the kitchen, waiting for the water to boil so you could put the pasta in, singing to the lyrics before you phone stopped the song and instead made the sound of an incoming FaceTime call, seeing Lance's contact on your screen. "Hi Lance!", you greeted, waving at the screen, "Hey, you, am I catching you at a bad time?", he asked, lighting what looked like a nightsand lamp, "Just making dinner. Is this a good time for you though? You look like you're going to sleep", you cringed, propping your phone since one of the glss containers you had on your counter top so you could put the pasta in and still she Lance while he saw you in shot too, "I wanted to talk to you", he mused, "I saw your text, but they needed me to fix something on the steering wheel and just to be sure I called now because I was afraid you'd be working still and I would interrupt it", he reasoned.

Hoping the LED light that illuminated your working area in the kitchen hid your blushing cheeks, you managed to reply, "I was just checking in with you, seeing how it went. Aren't you tired or in need of sleep? We can talk another day, it's fine", you admitted, even though deep down you were enjoying his (virtual) company, especially seeing him like this, tucked into bed in his pyjamas and looking so handsome and soft, "I'm okay, don't worry", he yawned, "so, what are you cooking?".

Conversation flowed while you cut the vegetables so you could cook them in the pan, sharing the recipe with Lance and coming closer to the phone whenever you were letting things cook on their own, supporting your face on the palms of your hands while your elbows rested on the counter top, doing one final move to plate your pasta, "uhh, that looks good!", Lance exclaimed, seeing you top the dish with some cheese, "it usually tastes good, yeah, and it's also very quick to make. I began just when we started this call and we've been here for- oh, we've been here for nearly an hour! Lance, you could've told me! You probably need to sleep, I'm sorry that I kept you here!", you apologised, guilt overcoming your whole body. You truly didn't think you had been on call with Lance for such a long time, it was truly flowing and, above anything, feeling comfortable.

"You don't have to apoligise, I stayed here because I wanted to be with you and spend time with you, unless you're apologising because I bothered you", he hinted, "No! No, not at all, I loved sort of having you here with me", you hurriedly clarified, "I just didn't want to bother you or your sleep routine, it's really late where you are", you shot him another apologetic look, "I said none of that, no apologising for this anymore. I enjoyed having you here with me too", he smiled softly, "but if I don't go to sleep soon, tomorrow is going to hurt", he reasoned.

Sitting by your table, you propped the phone again against your bottle of water, "sleep is very important, Lanc-", you were interrupted by him, "but I need to know if the pasta is delicious or not, it's only fair", he winked as you rolled your fork on the plate, grabbing bit of everything and trying it, "it's amazing, I can confirm", you said, "you look like a little chipmunk, and your dimple is showing too. Totally worth it staying up this late", he complimented, leaving you to bid him goodbye, "goodnight Lance, have a good sleep", you whispered, switching off the call when Lance gave you the same wishes, giddily smiling at your pasta at his attentiveness, allowing yourself to be swept off your feet.

.

"Was it as good as your pasta, though?", Lance asked you as you walked along the city streets after leaving the restaurant where you had dinner. The small and cosy local restaurant was perfect for another date with Lance, your hand latched in his since you left the restaurant after thanking the owner for a great evening, "I'm not a professional, so this one was better, but my own has potential too, you know?", you giggled, allowing yourself to lean a little bit on Lance, pulling your bodies closer to one another, making him also feel your own easiness around him, which he appreciated. From the moment he met you, he knew you wouldn't be swept off your feet with elaborate dinner dates and fancy invitations to lavish places. Above anything, he noticed you were cautious, not that he thought that you were expecting him to do you any physical harm, but because maybe you had been emotionally hurt before. Because of that, Lance made it his mission to show you what love could be like, how beautiful and how simple two people who care about eachother could develop into something more.

Seeing a flower peeking out of a house fence, Lance couldn't contain himself and he plucked it, making you stop, "Here, look at me, please", he mumbled, tucking the flower behind your ear carefully, his eyes boring into yours, "I really like you, Y/N", he confessed, "and I won't pressure you into anything, I can wait. Damn, I'll wait forever for you if I have to. But I don't want you to go on without knowing this", he smiled hopefully, not knowing your reaction as he hadn't planned to do it like this.

Cupping his cheek, your thumb ran over his cheek, softly touching the corner of his lips in a silent question to know if he too wanted it before you leaned up to kiss him, pressing your lips in his for a tender kiss, pulling back to see eachother's reaction, only to crash his lips against yours passionately.

"I really like you too", you whispered, afraid to disturb the moment between you, earning a chuckle from Lance, "I should hope so, imagine if you were to tell me now that you despised me after that kiss, I don't think I could handle it", he placed his hand on top of his heart, earning him a small slap on his chest, "I'm trying to be serious with you", you whined, "So am I, Y/N, completely serious. I'm in this if you are", he said as he hugged your, kissing your forehead before kissing your lips again, "I think I found a new favourite thing to do".

.

"So you don't want to go?", Lance questioned, "it's not that I don't want to go and see you do what you love, it's the whole thing, Lance", you murmured, "I'd have to fly out on a different day, I'd have to sleep somewhere, and that whole thing needs to be accounted for, I need to sit down and look properly at all of it", you almost hissed at him, not enjoying the tone it came out of your mouth but going with it nonetheless.

"But I can pay for all of that. I am, in fact, paying for all of that, that's why I'm offering you to come to a race weekend", Lance admitted, frustrated that something so simple for him was causing a fight between you, "and that is one of my problems! I don't want you to have to take care of me like that, I can take of myself, I'm not dependent on anyone and I can do things on my own!", you admitted, voice shaky while you looked at him, "I need a minute, please", you said as you felt your eyes grow wetter, excusing yourself to go to your balcony.

You knew Lance had money, a whole lot of it, so much so that, realistically, you coming along with him to the race would go probably unnoticed in his bank balance, but that didn't mean you were totally comfortable with him paying for everything. You could take care of yourself, now you knew that, despite of years of previous boyfriends telling you it would be hard for you to make it on your own and by your own merit. And you were scared, because was this the way this was going to end? Had you been, yet again, blinded by a guy who wanted you to be what he liked, who wanted to build you to the image he wanted and needed you to depict?

Inside, Lance noticed the cold air coming from the small gap of the door to the balcony that you had left open, imagining how much colder it would be for you, standing outside, looking around in hopes to find what he was looking for.

You heard the door squeak as it opened, thinking to yourself it was just the breeze when you heard footsteps, thinking for a second someone had broken into your house uninvited, "I'd prefer if you didn't have a cold", Lance said softly as he draped a blanket over your shoulders carefully, not missing your stunned expression, "you're still here?", you managed to let out, "I, I thought you were going to leave, I didn't think you'd stay", you stuttered, "Why would I leave?", Lance asked and almost immediately he answered his own question: because that's all you've ever known. When things got complicated, they would leave you. So you naturally thought he would do the same.

"Y/N, I'm not going to leave you when we fight", Lance said, keeping himself close to you, holding himself against the railing, "that is a promise I intend on keeping to you, and I'm going to do my absolute best to make sure that I won't break it", he declared, "Can we talk about it though?".

Holding his hand in yours, you nudged him to sit in one of the chairs you had in your balcony, sitting in front of him so you could express what was on your mind, "this is a bad story from past experiences, so if you still want to make that exit, I promise I'll manage and forget what you just side", you suggested playfully, feeling him squeeze you hand tighter in his own, "I've been in bad relationships before, it probably does not come to a surprise to you, but some things still haunt me years after. I used to have a boyfriend that would get me presents, or he would pay for things, and for a bit a just took it down as he was being nice, but he slowly started offering things in exchange of something, like me changing what I wore because I would wear something he got me instead, or change what I ate, who I spent time with, ans slowly everything he somehow offered turned out to be because he thought I couldn't do it on my own, that I wouldn't ever be able to sustain myself independently, so he thought he might as well "help me" and change who I was in the process", you gulped, "and I only realised it later, when his supposed affection for me was only there when I complied with what he asked of me, and the moment I realised was a constant fight, day in day out, where he left and then he would come back and belittle so much into thinking that it was my fault he would leave and we wouldn't solve anything we were fighting about", you confessed, "breaking up wasn't even the hardest part, but the scars that it left me with are still here, that's why I thought you would leave, because you wouldn't want to hear my side and-, fuck", you wiped a tear that insisted on falling, going back to play with Lance's fingers after, "I love you so much, I care about you so much, and you make me feel things I've never felt before without any conditions", you looked up at him, seeing an expression that was a mixture of sadness, anger and maybe some revolt too.

Lance brought your hands together and kissed them, "thank you for sharing that with me, I appreciate it", he began, "and I'm so sorry that some bastard thought it was okay to treat you like that, because it is not", he squeezed your hands, rubbing his thumb on them, "you deserve to feel all the love in the world without anything in it other that love itself. I get to be loved by you and that is one of my biggest blessings, and I'll be damned if I ever make you feel less loved or less appreciated than you deserve. But that promise I made is true, I want us to always talk about something that we don't see eye to eye on, so we can understand the other's perspective, I don't want to run away from anything", he nodded for you to continue, signalling he was done.

"I'm not from the same social or professional sphere that you are, and that makes me wonder about this whole situation, like there isn't a way that I can keep up with all of that travel on my own", you admitted honestly, "and I don't know how I feel about you covering those costs, like, of course I want to go see you do your thing at the track, and be there to support you, to congratulate you when you win and to hold you when things don't go as well, even if it's not all the time, but all of that seems a lot", you explained the situation to the best of your ability.

"Can I go now?", Lance wondered, his hands still holding yours, "I don't want to sound like a prick, or like I'm flashing everyone of how much I have, but it is also true that I don't mind paying for those things. Truly. And I don't do it because I want some change from you in return. I do it because I am fortunately able to and because I want the people I love with me as much as they're able to", he said, moving his hand to caress your cheek, "I never want you to think for a second that anything that I offer, present you with or pay for is a way of manipulating you", he assured, looking for your own reassurance in your eyes.

You shuffled around in your seat, looking into those beautiful brown eyes you loved so much, "thank you", you smiled through your tears, "you don't have to thank me for loving you, I should be the one thanking you for trusting me and for letting me love you".

#lance stroll imagine #lance stroll × reader #lance stroll fic #lance stroll fluff #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic

[blushstories]

Waittt another idea popped into my head: imagine soldier boy flirting and teasing the reader a little bit and butcher is like ummm 👁👁 cause butcher has a crush on the reader and he gets a little jealous, but in reality, ofc the reader only likes butcher.

this one just-- this is genius, i think very fun i miss jensen ackles so much, we actually go way back and by that i mean dean winchester fanfic pahaha anyway enough vidia lore || tw misogynistic comments

Soldier boy watches your movements as he eats. You’re making drinks for everyone, a spring in your step as usual, your perfume makes the air smell pink and the hem of your skirt dances with the wind you’re creating while grabbing teabags and instant coffee.

He hums. Something drops something in the kitchen and you know it's Butcher when, "Fucking hell," swiftly follows. Soldier boy's concentration remains steadfast.

"You know, sweetheart," you're still not used to the lilt in his voice, dipped in arrogance, but dripping with honey. "You could get any man you want."

The teabag falls into Butchers cup. His unblinking gaze pins you to the spot.

"Is that so?" You don't look at him, but heat rushes to your cheeks. You can't remember the last time you've been complimented.

"With a face like that? You must be fightin' 'em off," he says. Hot water folds into the cups one by one. Heavy footsteps enter the room. "I'll bet none of 'em are real men, though."

The kettle clicks into place and you watch Butcher perch in front of his laptop, shoulders creeping up stiffly.

“Real men?” You say.

“Oh yeah. Me, for example. Men these days are pussies, can’t fucking stand up for themselves.”

With wide eyes and eyebrows raised, you make eye contact with Butcher; you’re just shocked. The cultural dissonance between his views and the present day rings in your ears.

“I could show ya,” he says, taking a bite of his food, and he is serious. Butcher stares at him, still as a statue.

“Um,” you say. “That’s okay. Thanks,” something flashes in Soldier boy’s eyes and you quickly try to recover, “I mean, another time. Maybe. I’m… honoured,” your words are trip hazards because you don’t mean any of them. They’re insurance.

“Oi, dickhead. How about you shut the fuck up for one bloody minute, eh?” Butcher cuts in, heading towards you at the counter, leaning over your shoulder to take his cup of tea by the rim. He passes it to his other hand and remains at your back while taking a sip, his hand resting on the counter to keep him towering over you like a shield.

His eyes cross the rim of the cup to send a warning in Soldier boy’s direction, and by the way his eyes roll and he occupies himself with a different activity, it’s clear that Butcher’s won.

You look up at him and smile; he winks at you and a sideways smile demonstrates he’s riding the victory high.

#billy butcher x reader #billy butcher #the boys #the boys tv #the boys fanfiction #x reader #karl urban characters #billy butcher x you #billy butcher x y/n #william butcher #the boys x reader #billy butcher fanfiction #william butcher fanfiction #william butcher x you #butcher the boys #sorry this couldn't be better!

[fanficwriterlover]

Undercover

18+ Readers Only

Chapter 3: Too Close for Comfort

Summary: You sustained and injury, but luckily alive and breathing. Ghost and you seem to be mutually getting closer yet like all missions, they get messy and well things seem to only escalate more.

Expectations:Blood, gore, torture, beating, punching, cutting,cursing, stitches, kissing, and more...

Pet-Names: Little Goddess and Aphrodite

══════ ⋆Undercover MasterList⋆ ══════

═════════ ⋆Chapter 4⋆ ═════════

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In a building that the team would be using, it was a large almost abandoned place, perfect to torture the man, discuss plans, and where the medic was stationed. Ghost immediately dropped you off there, the doctor inspecting your wound with Ghost looming nearby. The doctor had a personal tent with tons of equipment and lighting to handle anything. The doctor named Dr. Windsor, you knew him well from past experiences, he began with removing the wrap Ghost had done inspecting the wound but smiling gently reassuringly. "Didn't cut you deep luckily, I don't see any puncture. You'll be alright, definitely need stitches though." He started grabbing his string and needle to prepare as he started making you stand still with your head straight. You were looking at Ghost and he was back at you. The whole process was slightly painful, but you bit your tongue through it.

When the doctor finally finished he put a large bandage on it. "You're all done. Now give it about a week and it'll be gone, but-" this made Ghost say in a dark voice "But what ?" The doctor spun in his chair almost seeming to forget Ghost was standing there the whole time. "God damn, Lieutenant, about gave me cardiac arrest" he sighs out, earning a painful giggle as you went to reach for where it hurt at your neck. "As I was going to say, y/n, because of how deep that cut was, it will leave a mark-" you studied Dr.Windsor for a moment nodding your head slowly as he continued "However, I do have ointment that can make it go away-" you responded so fast you didn't realize how abrupt you were "No" Dr. Windsor simply looked at you as you covered your abruptness "No, thank you, it's fine. Thanks again Doc, I owe you that drink one day" You get off the table you were sitting on walking by Ghost as he watched you do so. The doctor than spoke to him.

Ghost looked at the doctor as he spoke "You know, I'm not a specialist when it comes to emotional feelings, but I can see how you look at her." Ghost eyes stared at the man as he continued "She is brave and beautiful, known her personally in the past." He glances in the Lieutenant's direction "She's already been through enough, don't hurt her more if you're not going to commit to those feelings." He frowned a bit at this statement wondering what he could mean by them, What exactly have you been through ? Ghost silently went out of the tent. You were making your way to the humvee they came from, he almost forgot you were wearing revealing clothes. He couldn't help but blush, it seemed so natural for you to wear something like this and not care who would see. You opened the backseat door then glance back at him "Will the team be coming back soon ?" He grunts avoiding making eye contact with you, opening the driver's door "Yeah, I'll take you back to the hotel if you want so you can rest." Tilting your head as you grab your coat putting it on before peeping around the door to look up at him "Lieutenant, won't you be needed to interrogate?" Ghost simply looks down at you, was the first time you used his rank to address him in such a different tone.

He considered his words "You're more important. I don't need you seeing this shit." You close the door of your backseat door leaning against the vehicle "Don't think I can stomach it ?" He looks away from your gaze, it was hard to say these words "I don't want you to see the other part of me." You raise a brow confused by this, he almost sounded as if he was two different people. You stayed silent for a moment. Then spoke softly "When your done, will you come back to the room ?" His eyes move back to you, you were grabbing your arm and squeezing it tightly, obviously from tonight you were scared. "Yeah, I'll come back Aphrodite" This nickname made you smile as you laugh softly, you were blushing as you pushed your wig hair back, the blood stained it still "I'll hold you to that Ghost" going around to the passenger side.

You allowed him to take you back to the hotel, escorting you briskly through the lobby, his large arms around you. Still playing the part as husband and wife. Getting into the elevator, he insisted still to take you personally to the door so he knew you were safe. The ride up was quiet until the dinging of the elevator door open. Stepping down the hallway making to your door, unlocking it and opening it to the bedroom that you were both staying in. Ghost was standing behind you as you walked in, then turned around to look at him, he was looking back down at you.

Ghost doesn't know how long the two of you were standing looking at each other but the next thing he knew he was embracing you tightly, your head burying into his chest. His arms easily wrapped around your whole body frame, you were delicate in his arms. Eventually you slightly pulled away, looking at where his lips were almost tempted to lift his mask, he took the hint. He lifted the mask up enough over the bridge of his nose revealing his thin pink lips, they had a cut on one side, and scars adorning his cheeks, jaw and neck. You got on your toes leaning up to meet his lips as he held you close kissing you back deeply.

His kiss was everything you imagined, it was addictive, slightly rough, needing, and passionate. The sensation of his touch and the way his lips encouraged yours to move was tasteful bliss. The kiss lasted for a long time, but eventually when you both pulled away you were left panting. Your eyes were hazy from the passion, he lowered himself enough tilting your head up slightly, holding the back of your neck gently, where he planted a gentle kiss over your bandage. This made you shiver. How can a man his size, be murderous, rough, intimidating, yet be so gentle to the touch. However, like everything, it had to come to an end. He looked down at you pressing his head on yours "I'll be back Lil Goddess" you laugh softly still panting, the nickname made you feel warm inside especially when it came from him. "I'll be waiting Lieutenant" Ghost furrowed his brows looking at your face pressed close to his, that's when he said it "Simon"

Taken back, you look up at him eyes wide processing what he said "W-What ?" You blinked your eyes at him for a moment as he chuckles from your surprised look "You can call me Simon when we are alone" His name...his real name. When Johnny and you talked he had told you that only Price knew what he looked like and he had suspicions Laswell did too. But he only ever showed to people he truly trusted and even THAT was hard to earn. Smiling at the thought made you feel special. "Simon..." You say his name almost testing it on your tongue, which he smiles at, his smile, you've never seen something so beautiful. One last kiss he eventually pulled away so he could get back to the team. He lowers his mask, nodding his head at you, as you closed the door in front of him slowly.

Once the door was closed and he heard the locks click, he started making his way down the stairs of the hotel. Already making his way back to the vehicle, getting in, his mind was thinking about kissing you. How he wished he could have stayed longer with you and held you. The sensation of your lips were lingering on his mind "Fuck..." he grumbled, now he was starting to catch feelings. This was what he was trying to avoid. He knew his line of work would interfere with his judgement let alone his ability to focus. The fact you got hurt under his watch was a reminder how much he should never have gotten closer to you. He didn't even realize he had arrived at the building the team was, he subconsciously drove himself here. Ghost was really on edge now, giving this man a good beating and torture was what he needed to let off steam. Everyone was gathered around the man Gusev who was bound to the chair only having a few bruises, nothing even comparable what Ghost was going to make him feel. Gusev seemed to haved noticed Ghost's arrival as Ghost made his way over, his teams eyes also looking at him. Soap spoke first "How's the little goddess doing ? " he asks in his Scottish accent Ghost seems to be eyeing the man bound to the chair as he answered "She's fine. Back at the hotel." Soap stepped to the side as Ghost approached the man who was laughing "Ah, come to torture me more ? You'll never get anything out of me. Hear that little whore got a lovely cut, too bad I wasn't able to make a clean cut of that pretty head-" before he could even taunt more, Ghost had been walking around the man until grabbing his hand and breaking it, the man screamed in agony, luckily they were in a locked room, it wouldn't be heard. Most of the team took their leave, even Price, when they all had left, it was just the man and Ghost. Ghost was circling him like a shark as he spoke "I'm not like them..." The man looked at him with wide eyes as Ghost began removing his gear. Ghost now was only his jacket, jeans and boots. He was removing his jacket though showing himself in just his shirt top, scars across his arms. The man seemed to be more shaken up, "The fuck do you want ?" he was getting scared Ghost concluded Haven't even fuckin started and already he gonna piss himself. Ghost removed his gloves exposing his bare hands, veins showing and cuts on them as well "You're going to tell me everything you know" His eyes glanced up at the bounded man cocking his head "Should any of your words sound so much as a lie, I'm going to break a piece of you, but you won't die..." he chuckles lowly using his deep voice "Nah, you see, you're gonna fucking suffer until I get everything you fuckin know, don't give a fuck whether its private or your dirty secrets." Ghost grabbed the man at the shirt "And I'm going to break you every fuckin way immaginable. No fuckin doctor going to be able to identify your shitty body." this obviously made the man pale, but it made him talking. An hour. Ghost brutally beat the man, even when he spouted every kind of information, he was using the man like a punching bag. Angered simply for everything that happened. Once he let out all his anger on the man, he was close to dead already. Ghost stopped his brutal pursuit walking out of the room with blood splattered over his arms, hands, shirt, mask, pants, and shoes. Everyone grimaced at the sight, even Price couldn't look at the brutally beaten man but he spoke up "Get anything out of him" Ghost simply walked over to the pipe line turning on the water rinsing off the blood from his hands and arms. He spoke "Yeah, he told me everything, we need to get a hold of Laswell." his tone was enough to make Price tell it was something serious so he began getting a hold of her while Ghost cleaned himself off not caring about the blood staining his clothes. No matter how much he scrubbed though under the water, he still couldn't get the words out of the man's last words before he beated him to a pulp...."We got a list....and that little Goddess on the top"

Thanks for Reading!

This one is much shorter...but I have so much planned for the next chapter. Stay tuned !

#ghost x reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod modern warfare #cod mw2 #cod x y/n #cod x you #simon ghost riley x f!reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley #ghost simon riley #ghost #ghost mw2 #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost x f!reader #ghost x female reader #ghost x you #simon riley x oc #simon riley x y/n #simon riley call of duty #simon ghost riley x you #cod simon ghost riley

[dreamgirllz]

Infatuated

Author note: HII yes I know it’s been about a month 🗿 forgive me… this is very tooth rotting 😍

Tanjiro(you work for lady tomoya)

-zenistu(you're a slayer he met on a mission alone)

-inosuke(you're a slayer he met)(And yes he has had character development with the help of tanjiro)

Tanjiro-

After lady tomoya's first place was destroyed she moved safely to another one. Tanjiro would visit sometimes. Before tanjiro even met you he fell in love with your scent. He didn't know he was smelling you but he'd find himself smiling as he thought of a lovely spring day. That's what the fragrance reminded him of.

Your scent lingered around the mansion even though you were working outside bringing lady tomoya things for experiments.

You two finally met when tomoya called you in to meet tanjiro. As soon as you two made eye contact his cheeks went a pretty pink.

"Oh hello l'm taniro and this is my sister nezuko!" He walks to you shyly reaching to shake your hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you, I must be heading back now." You said leaving, lady tomoya starts explaining things to him about his sister.

But he was Infatuated. Yushiro hit tanjiro's head, "how dare you space out as lady tomoya is speaking?! Are you crazy!" Tomoya laughed and told yushiro to calm down, which he did immediately. "I'm so sorry! I don't know what got over me! I'll pay attention more." He said giving his famous sweet smile. "You can always visit tanjiro, she always busy. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't mind some help. Tomoya clearly knew what was going on. "R-right, I'll see when I have some time off."

Even though tanjiro was a busy slayer he always tried to make time, cramming things in just to spend a few hours talking to you. He's just so good to you, you better return the sweet boys feelings.(or else 🤭🔪)

Zenistu-

We all know any girl that passes zenistu he's head over heels trying to marry her. But after encountering you there was no way he was going to go up to any other girl.

Zenistu was on a mission alone, of course against his will. In his mind he's thinking why they give him a demon this hard! In reality he wasn't really trying. He was too busy just running for his life.

Zenitsu caught your eye as you saw a yellow man running through the woods. In the directions you came from. Then you saw the demon chasing him, you run behind them obviously to save him. The yellow boy runs into the tree, possibly getting a concussion. The demon reaches out to strike him as he screams loudly. You sever the demons head off saving the boy just in time.

"Woah!! Did you see that I almost died! These slayers are going to cause my death before can get close to getting a wife!!!" He screeched through out the woods, you rolled your eyes.

"Aren't you a slayer? Why are you running from a lowly demon like that?" You said reaching into your pocket pulling out bandages. He went dead silent after hearing your angelic voice. You wrap his head up to stop the bleeding on his forehead. "Your so quiet now? Is there something wrong, It doesn't look like you lost a lot of blood just yet." He stared up at your facial features in a Infatuated way. "Are you married?" He asked in a soft tone, you shook your head no. "What makes you say that?!" He shot up from the ground, "THAT GIVES ME A CHANCE!!! PLEASE BE MY WIFE PLEASE!!!!"

He chased you through the woods begging over and over again for you to marry him. (Good luck 🥱)

Inosuke-

Inosuke was on a mission to the mountains to slay a demon who's been giving other passing slayers problems.

He marched up the mountain looking for the demon but instead finding you on the ground shivering really bad. He couldn't tell if you were a man or a girl. The demon came out of nowhere trying to launch a silent attack.

"HAHA! You thought I would fall for that lame slow attack." Of course he did taunt the demon...

He fought the demon for about 5 minutes with out a scratch on his body. * that was way to easy! I want more!" Then he remembered that he found a slayer not to long ago. He went back to the area, and threw you over his shoulders; running down the mountain. The ride was bumpy and definitely very uncomfortable. As soon as he met the forest floor he dropped you on the floor. "Ah! What the." your eyes shot open making eye contact with a pig man on top of you looking down. You thought it was a demon but you realized it wasn't. "Are you a slayer? Where's a your shirt it's freezing out here." He laughed loudly, "the strongest slayer doesn't need a shirt! I'm too cool for one! Don't think I saved you because I care!" It was hard to understand, but you knew he was spewing nonsense. "Don't worry I wasn't planning on saying thank you anyways" you say struggling to get up. "Your welcome! What? I saved your life praise me girl! Banjiro said I have to save people it's a good thing or whatever. Praise me, I'm your god!" You collapse from the cold, "hey this is no place for sleeping wake up! Oh." he finally realizes you were freezing to death.

He took off the fur from around his waist when covered you with it. He then took you in his arms and headed to a near by abandoned house.

You wake up in the house and look around, wondering where you were. "Woah! This is the second best nirichin l've seen. Of course mine is the first best one!" He said examining your blade. You breathe out feeling relieved. "So you actually dragged me here?" You asked looking up at him, "duh! Who else is that amazing!?" "Woah you carried me here all by yourself, you must be the strongest man alive." You joked, but he didn't see it as sarcasm. He doesn't know what sarcasm is.. His heart got tight in his chest.

"You think so. he asked sitting down by you.

"Yes definitely", you lay back down laughing. He just spaced out looking in your direction. He didn't understand he was feeling Infatuated.

Not many people at all have anything nice to say to him other than tanjiro. Even if you were being sarcastic he took it seriously. (Please a sarcastic and passive y/n would be so perfect for inosuke.)

#kny x you #kny x reader #tanjiro kamado #demon slayer tanjiro #tanjiro x reader #tanjiro x y/n #inosuke hashibira #demon slayer inosuke #inosuke x reader #inosuke x y/n #zenistu #zenitsu agatsuma #zenitsu x reader #zenitsu x y/n #demon slayer zenitsu

[attollogame]

hi!! i've looked up and down your blog & can't seem to find somewhere i can read your the idol story-- i remember i really enjoyed it way back when it was on ao3, but you did say that you would take it down when published. is there anywhere i can find it? i'd love to buy it!!

I'll do you one better <3

The Idol

There is no one in the community who can say, with absolute certainty, when It arrived. It was as though one day we all woke up in synchrony to find Its great, twisted form looming over the temple-goers. Gone was the image of our patron god, replaced with one of an entity even the most educated of our priests could not discern. 

Naturally, there was an investigation. 

Self-proclaimed mages and scholars alike approached the statue to run their hands along the cold stone surface. They documented each notch and crevice that carved out Its form and they had artists—the most skilled in the city—map out the features so that we could look upon Its face in Its entirety. 

The outcome of this order was nothing short of sacrilegious.  

The Idol, as It would come to be known, appeared as though a man who knew of a god only by word of mouth had tried to replicate its form in the most defamatory of ways. Six great wings extended from Its body; four outstretched to cover the temple walls, and two folded in to cover Its gaze, as though It deemed us unworthy to look upon. Eyes, which should have been on Its face, were instead interspersed between the delicately carved feathers. Their gaze held malice within it. 

“It is a parasite, Malchus,” my mother hissed when I asked her about It. “It slithered out from whatever den It was sired in, and now calls our home Its own. It will uproot and consume us all by summer's end.” 

She was not the only one with this belief. I had heard the whispers of the clergy as they exchanged their thoughts about our predicament. The doors to the worship chamber were sealed until further notice—a first in over three decades—and any tribute to our patron god was directed to take place within our own homes. The temple went from the heart of the community to a shell of its former self within a few days; my mother, a temple cleaner, now spent most of her time dusting away cobwebs rather than mud trekked in by weary travelers. 

Our entire manner of living was usurped by the arrival of this one, singular beast. 

What did I think of it? I, the boy who hid behind his mothers skirts as priests walked by, who immersed himself in the murmurs and the prayers of the terrified within the altar room? 

I could not see with my eyes—a trait I was born with, barring me from knowing any reality other than darkness. To me, what the Idol was or what intention it held was of the lowest priority in my life. 

____________________________

Against my mothers predictions, it took several years before any changes began, and they did so when Phameus collapsed outside of the chamber. 

I remember hearing the sound of his body hitting the floor, his choking breaths and twitching limbs making contact with stone. The temple healer—a man by the name of Adon—had dragged him out of the halls and into the healing chambers mere meters away. I had been listening from the shadows up until the moment that the chamber doors slammed shut, to which I then crept forward until I hovered just outside their wooden barriers. 

I only managed to capture brief snippets of the conversation within, all of which came from Adon himself. Growing bored with the discussion, I had moved to draw away from the doors and back to my own chambers when a new, unexpected voice broke the reverie. 

I was familiar with Phameus. He was a soft-spoken man and the youngest to join the clergy. Phameus had been born with a stutter that had remained prevalent even after coming to the temple, which caused him to trip over words and draw out sounds. The voice within the room belonged to neither him nor Adon; it did not stutter, it was not soft. It sounded as though multiple beings sought to speak at once, with no discernible gender to be pried from the mix, uttering words in a tongue I could not comprehend. 

It spoke only for a moment before the healing chamber doors were forced open and Adon himself fell through.

I could hear his shock. I could hear the way his nails scraped along the stone and how they accompanied the whimpering cries that clawed their way out from his throat. I could smell that vile stench of piss and something older, something rotten, hanging off of his body. 

I pressed my back against the wall as heat flooded out from within the healing room. If Adon registered my presence at all, I was given no acknowledgement before he clambered to his feet and bolted down the hall. 

I was left in silence. The voices had ceased, and when I tilted my head towards the healing chamber to hear evidence of another presence, the silence only prevailed. If Phameus had been inside with Adon at any point, he was not there anymore. 

“I told you,” my mother had moaned when I recounted the events to her later that night. “I told you! It is a parasite! Not only has It infected our home, but now It parades through our community with the mask of our clergyman on Its face!” 

I did not respond, choosing to busy myself with dinner instead. In my mind I replayed that voice with the different pitches and timbres Its words had carried. I had only been able to make out a few, brief snippets before Adon shattered the moment; 

Ihr clya cæn.

To the clergy, perhaps they held significance. But to a temple cleaner's son such as myself, they were as meaningful as the dirt that gets swept away. 

__________________________

Another year passed before It spoke again. 

We of the temple came to the agreement that whatever had happened to Phameus was tied to The Idol, which still stood silent in the sealed off worship chambers. Explaining this theory to the community—especially Phameus’ father—had proven a fruitless effort. In response to the clergy’s claims, the civilians rose up with threats of violence against the temple; they were willing to rip the wood apart with their bare hands if it meant that whatever resided behind those doors would be returned to the unholy land that sired It. The Head Priest—a towering, bitter man—had taken on his most placating tone and ensured the community that he and the others would deal with the situation swiftly. 

They did not anticipate The Idol to have an agenda of Its own. 

The voice, which I had heard a year prior in that chamber hallway, now came back through the mouth of Jezebel, another temple cleaner like my mother and I, and one who was born into the most unfortunate of circumstances. She was a timid girl who spent many of her days slouched over cleaning rags, and when she was not doing that, she sought for the shadows in the corner of the rooms to hide her away. She was precisely what the clergy wanted in a cleaner—silent, out of sight, out of mind. 

Which was why we were all taken aback when she stumbled into the meeting chamber in the early hours of the morning light. I knew right away when that fragrance returned—that horrible, rotting smell that had clung to Adon's body when he fell before me—what had happened to her. Jezebel was no longer silent. She broke through the doors wailing like a flock of demons were pursuing her, tearing at her clothes and her flesh with every step she took.  A sickening, dripping noise filled the chamber, and with each droplet that hit the stone the rotten scent only grew. 

One.

Two.

Three.

I counted them as they collided with the tile below. The rate of contact was heavy; whatever was spilling from her body to the earth below was thick, and dense, and coming in great volumes. 

We did not speak—but Jezebel did. 

“Pious fathers,” she whimpered, her voice that strange cacophony of tones that had sung in my nightmares for a year now, “do you keep me locked away to stave off your misfortune? Or perhaps my arrival was too abrupt for your feeble hearts?” 

A heavy silence had descended on the hall as we waited for her to continue. I was sure she was smiling—perhaps at all of us, perhaps at the Head Priest, or perhaps at me in specific. It must have known that I was one of two who bore witness to It before. I, like a lamb facing a wolf, shrunk behind the Head Priest in search of comfort, the scent of incense my only guide to reassure me it was him. 

“Come, father. Let me share my thoughts with you like all the others have—a confession, of sorts. Let me give you answers to the questions that burn in your mind from the mouth of the plague itself.” There was joy in her voice, but it sounded broken, and disjointed, and terribly wrong. The Head Priest descended from his podium at her call and although I gripped onto his hands and his robes in a bid to stop him, he shrugged off all of my attempts. I could only be an unwilling audience to the disaster that was set to unfold.  

The others watched them vanish into the worship chambers together. I listened intently to the sound of their footsteps, my hands wrung together with anxiety—not for the well being of the Head Priest, but for the answers being spoken behind those doors that we continued to remain un-privy too. 

It was on this day, the day of Jezebel’s grievance and The Idols honeyed offering, where my role in this tale first began. 

___________________________

Time passed since that reckoning in the meeting chambers. Jezebel, much like Phameus, vanished shortly thereafter; all that was left of her presence was a vacant corner where she once stood. Her absence soon became as forgettable as she was until the day she finally spoke. 

The Head Priest had returned to us in silence. He refused to entertain anyone for several hours, and when he finally did emerge from his rooms, he granted us merely a taste of the bitter fruit he had consumed. 

We were not to speak the name of our patron god any further. All icons, altars, and idols of his presence were to be removed henceforth. I remember the outcry of the community, and I remember the Head Priest's comments; it was under jurisdiction that these actions were taking place. Remove the patron god, or we would gradually begin to see a reduction in our community numbers. The Idol had already claimed two; Jezebel and Phameus both had shrines in their honour buried in the back of the community. I was one of few who paid tribute to them. 

Losing a child was the worst punishment to face, and no one wanted to endure what their families had. The loss of a child meant a broken branch in the family lineage—something that, in many of our cases, could never be repaired. 

So a pyre was built. A great, roaring flame that seemed to laugh as it crackled, bellowing out ashes that recounted our history. It was the body of the god, I remember thinking. The scent was that of his flesh bubbling and blistering in the flame and the crackle his despondent cries as his memory was torn away. 

We had fed our protector to the beast in our house, and now we stood as nothing but pariahs to our beliefs. 

___________________________

“I think I know Its name.” 

Sidon’s voice breaks me from my memories and I twist in confusion. He is around twenty three years old, the same age as I, but he retains the boyish attitude of his youth. His hair is a chaos of curls, which I know from the times I played with them between my fingers, and he stands out against the dreariness of the temple as my own private source of comfort. Even now, the devious tone he carries is foreign to this place. 

“What do you mean?” I ask, allowing only a hint of uncertainty to creep into my voice. “Whose name?”

Sidon barely hesitates as he turns me towards where, many years earlier, our Head Priest had come to his final conclusions. Life has drawn to an ebb and flow since this time. We, having grown to become cleaners ourselves, now spend most of our time wiping away the black slime that seems to seep from the temple's decaying foundations. The rotten scent that filled the air around Jezebel has taken a permanent residence in the halls. Even those who pass the worship chamber doors fall out of their conversations and into silence, as if convinced that even breathing in that direction will curse them. 

Truthfully, it might. 

“The Idol. It is not truly a god, you know,” he hums, tapping my right wrist—a quirk he does when speaking to ensure I listen. “Eitan says that he saw It crawling back beneath the statue's feet. Since when do gods crawl on the ground like men?”

Sidon’s words sit heavily in my mind as I ring out my rag in a contemplative silence. The studies that he and I had listened to while growing up made clear the differences between ourselves and our patron god; his divinity prevented him from stepping onto the earth that we reside on, for doing so would taint his form. To hear that The Idol we now worship to preserve our lives crawls beneath the floorboards like a common rat is uncomfortable knowledge. I drop the rag down into the bucket and turn my head towards where I know Sidon stands. 

“What do you mean to do about this?” I muse, wiping my hands on my pants. “It would be good to remember that Eitan is not the most honest. He smuggles extra bread rolls underneath his shirt nearly every night.” 

A scoff is the only response I receive, followed by the thump of Sidon dropping his own rag. I bet his hands must be as black as the night after our cleaning. I know mine surely are. “That's why I told you. I want you to come with me to find out just how true Eitan’s words are. If they're false, then we have nothing to worry about.”

“And if they're true?” I shake my head. “Sidon, you and I have both heard of the consequences inflicted upon those who enter the worship chamber. The miasma, the night terrors, those are real. Eitan’s words may be false, but what those people endure daily is certainly not.” 

I turn away to make it clear that the discussion is over, but I am stopped in my tracks when Sidon wraps his hand around my right wrist. His grip is warm and comforting, and he reaches up with his other hand to cup my chin. I know he's smiling at me before he even speaks, and the image I've carefully constructed in my mind from touching those upturned lips fills me with warmth. I know I'll do as he asks before he even asks it. 

“One night, for a few moments. We sneak in through the servant entrances, we check The Idol, and then we leave before anyone suspects a thing.” His thumb caresses the inside of my wrist, and I bite down on my lip. Cheater. “Please?”

I stand facing away from him, caught between my morals and my affections for the man holding my wrist. It's not a hard choice to make in the end; I, like my mother, wear my heart on my sleeve. 

“Fine,” I sigh, closing my eyes as I do so. “One night.” 

______________

The air feels static as I wait for Sidon to come. I had spent the entire day meticulously rearranging my chambers in order to keep my mind off of things, only to find myself falling back into rumination with each shift I made. I was fortunate enough that, before the chambers were closed, my mother had been the individual assigned to clean by our patron god’s feet. I grew up within those walls, basking in the scent of incense and sage while the faint sounds of my mother’s sweeping filled the air. I wonder how different it will be for Sidon and I when we go in there tonight. 

I wonder if this is worth the sacrifice of those memories?

My answer is given to me by a quiet rapping against my door. I get up from the bed and crack open the door enough so that I can capture the scent—dirt and miasma—of my dear friend. He presses a single finger to my lips to indicate my silence before grasping my wrist. I nod and slip out of the room, closing the door behind me as softly as I can. As soon as I'm standing out in the hall with him, Sidon turns on his heels and sets off at a brisk pace, hardly waiting for me to collect myself. 

“Sidon!” I hiss under my breath, dogging after him like some child following their parents’ steps. “Sidon, slow down!” 

Whether he heard me or not I’ll never know, because as soon as we round the corner Sidon comes to a stop, causing me to collide into his back. I don’t need to ask him the reason for his pause. 

Because this? This didn’t make sense. 

My room is at least twenty minutes down the hall from this chamber. I know this because I had specifically chosen the farthest room from the chamber that I could possibly afford; I didn’t want the darkened energy that seemed to hover around the entrance creeping its way into my room at night. I already had horrible visions of unseen hands wrapping themselves around my throat, of a body pressing against mine until I cannot move, of eyes like predators watching me from all corners, always watching. I didn’t need them to get worse. 

“Sidon,” I began again, reaching out to touch his arm, only to have him jerk away from my reach. He doesn’t even grant a response as he moves past the worship chamber doors and towards a side-hall where the servants entrance resides. I stand, rooted in place with uncertainty. All of the anxieties that I try so hard to repress are now blooming in my chest and dancing their way through my veins, blurring my thoughts and quickening my breaths as I hear Sidon’s footsteps disappear. 

This is wrong. In fact, this is not just wrong, it’s downright criminal. We shouldn’t be trying to deduce the divinity of whatever resides within this chamber; we should be trying to banish It, like the community wants. We aren't meant to play martyr in this life. 

And yet, I can’t let him do this alone. If I let him go in there and die for whatever being, god or not, that slumbers beneath that Idol’s feet, then I, too, would die regardless. 

So I force my feet to move. I force myself to take step after step, and I follow Sidon.  

_______________

The chamber is exactly how I remember it from years before. The scent of incense hangs faintly in the air, and there’s a certain warmth that pulls at my heart. It reminds me of the stories I heard as I grew up; of kindness, of love. The tiled floors still cause my footsteps to echo out, bouncing off of the towering ceiling I know hangs above us, and I can’t help but stretch my arms upwards. 

The only difference is The Idol. I know that It sits there, watching me relive my childhood joy. Six wings. Hundreds of eyes. A great, looming body that stretches out to me. The only difference now is the dripping sound that I hear, a sound that brings me back to Jezebel’s reckoning. It’s the black liquid that we’ve been cleaning from the temple foundations for months, steadily flowing from The Idol to rot away the temple floor beneath Its body. 

“Come,” Sidon murmurs, his voice still booming in the repressive stillness of the room. “The entrance is at the feet.”

“Did Eitan tell you this?” I ask, following after him. Sidon offers no response—but something tells me that he’s smiling, that my question amuses him. As I approach The Idol’s base, the rotten scent seems stronger here than anywhere else, to the point that I’m swaying with the emotions I feel. I clench my jaw as I follow after Sidon. 

Eitan, for once, is truthful. As soon as Sidon and I reach the final step, I feel a gust of cold, bitter wind brush along my cheeks. A soft swear escapes from my lips as I drink in its touch. Sidon says nothing. Instead, I hear him approach the entrance, his hand pressing against The Idol’s base with a soft thump. 

“Let’s go,” is all he offers as he moves further from where I stand. My mind draws a blank and I find myself unable to say any words of protest before his footsteps vanish once more. We had agreed to confirm that the creature crawled on our grounds; we had not agreed to go hunting after It like fools. I hesitate again, torn between what I know is right and what my loyalty to my beloved says. Once again, the decision is easily made. 

I approach the hole and, taking a deep breath, I follow into the abyss. 

________

There's a room beneath The Idol’s feet. It’s a cavern so vast that I find it hard to determine its actual size. The sound of water hitting something solid echoes through the air, and fragrant decay hangs heavy around us. I stumble a few times as I follow Sidon’s fervorous steps. He’s moving so quickly that I find myself out of breath and I’m forced to press my hand against one of the walls. 

I feel a wetness on my skin. Even as I pull away, I know it isn’t water. I flex my hands into fists and try not to think about this as I continue to follow Sidon down. 

“How long do you intend to keep us here?” I murmur as we make another turn. We’ve turned so many times now that I’ve lost count—surely we’re just walking in one great circle? 

“Just a bit further ahead,” Sidon replies, increasing his pace once more. My brow furrows in concern as I continue to trail after him. My mother’s words are ringing through my mind right now, scolding me for all the irresponsible decisions I’ve ever made, and how this one surely is the greatest. I trust Sidon with my life, yes, but that doesn’t mean I wish to lose it any time soon. 

I only know he’s stopped when I bump into him. He’s unnaturally still, even for Sidon’s standards, and I reach out to press a hand on his broad back in concern. 

“What do you see?” I ask. He is my eyes in this moment. 

“Stars.” He steps forward and I do as well, ever trailing. We must’ve entered another room because the walls seem farther apart than before; there’s a cool breeze brushing against my cheeks again, carrying that heady, rotten scent on its back. I push forward to stand beside Sidon rather than behind, and my feet come to a stop at the edge of what seems to be a drop. 

A cavern, perhaps? A chasm? 

Maybe this is the entrance to the underworld our priests have so desperately sought?

“Sidon,” I murmur again, “where do you see the stars?”

“Everywhere.” Sidon’s hand comes down to grasp my arm. “They are everywhere, Malchus. Dots of light, swirling around our heads, just waiting for us to fall. They create patterns and tell stories of the people who live before us. They are burning so brightly.”

His finger taps my wrist. 

My left wrist. 

“This means they are close to their end, no?” 

My heart drops to my stomach as I let his words sink in. I cannot see with my eyes. Despite this, I should have asked the others, I should have been concerned with The Idol’s appearance. Phameus, Jezebel. My mother said once that It paraded through our community with the mask of a clergyman on Its unholy face. 

It seems to have traded that for the mask of my lover instead. 

“You've been watching me for many years, have you not?” The Idol sighs, continuing to tap my wrist. I don’t move against Its advances. It would be a death sentence for me to do so, so close to a drop like this. 

I have been made a fool. 

 “We've been visiting each other in our dreams since the moment you stood outside of that healing chamber, have we not?” It laughs, Sidon's voice now substituted for a tone that sounds of both man and woman; it slithers like a serpent over my body and into my mind, burrowing itself deep into my thoughts. I shiver at the intrusion. "Although you still have yet to see me."

"Something I'm grateful for." This is all I can offer. My loss of sight has granted me a blessing in that it's spared me from seeing The Idol’s grotesque form. There's a tutting noise as It moves closer. 

"Not good!" It sighs, hot breath fanning over my face. "Do you know I was once called the most beautiful of the divine? I used to have others, both mortal and not, kneeling at my feet, begging me to grace their bedchambers each night. I was the source of wars, of betrayals, of events that shaped the very history you exist for!"

There's a horrible spitting noise as The Idol pulls back. When It leans close again, It smells of the rotten fragrance that parades the entire chamber.

"Sweet Helen was a mere trinket compared to the likes of me." 

"Then why are you here?" Death seems unavoidable to me at this point. Even if The Idol lets me go, I have no knowledge on how to return to the surface. No one knows that I'm here. I will walk forever until I finally collapse, and Sidon… 

My heart aches as realization settles in. Sidon has likely met the same fate as Jezebel and Phameus.

"If you are so desired by man and god alike, why do you spend your nights crawling along a temple floor like a common cockroach?" I flinch as The Idol’s grip tightens. "This seems unbefitting for someone who puts the renown Helen to shame, no?" 

"Your sharp tongue exists to balance out your lack of eyes," The Idol hisses, pressing closer to me still. "No human would dare speak to me in such a manner. Little dreamer, I have killed for far less." 

"Then why am I still here?" The question rises in my mind like the morning sun, burning out the shadows that colluded my thoughts ever since The Idol first began to speak. If It has killed for less, why does It allow me to remain? 

"Why have you not consumed me like you did Phameus, or Jezebel? Like… like Sidon, or those that came before them? Why lure me here?"

The Idol remains silent against my questioning. It's only when the words begin to die on my tongue and the last traces of my voice carry out to the darkness that It moves. I'm pushed back as It steps in front of me, blocking me from the chasm below. 

It's tall. I can visualize Its six wings and innumerable eyes in my mind, the horrible descriptions the community members provided me with as vivid as a dream. My breath catches in my throat as It leans closer, closer, until Its unseen mouth is inches from my own. 

It means to consume me. 

"You wanted someone to hear you," I whisper, my breath mingling with Its own. "That is all you ever wanted. That is why you wore the face of the community, why you attached yourself to Phameus, why you made Jezebel run through those doors. That is why you wore the face of Sidon to lure me down here. I am the only one who has heard you." 

There's a moment of silence, and then a low, rumbling sound emanates from The Idol. It grows and grows in volume until laughter fills the chamber, booming around me like the performance of a thousand men. My hands come up to cover my ears and The Idol captures them in Its own. 

"You humans love to make yourselves the central characters, do you not? Every event always needs to tie back to you somehow. It never fails to amuse me." I feel The Idol run Its thumb along my wrist. They feel like human hands still, as warm and as comforting as Sidon's were. The thought of this parasite still wearing his face makes my stomach roll. 

"However, I'm not laughing at you this time." A sigh, one that sounds as though it carries the weight of a thousand years. "I'm laughing at myself. Your lack of sight has forced me to dance into your mind, Malchus. You paid me attention when no one else would. I suppose this has made me pliant."

"Pliant?" I'm unsure if I like that response or not, but The Idol gives me no chance to decide. 

"I want to let you see," The Idol whispers, Its lips ghosting across my own, "And if you watch with me, I swear by my word I shall let your community be."

I inhale sharply at this. The Idol could be lying for all I know; the Head Priest did tell us that demons enjoy speaking honeyed-promises to lure the unwitting into their embrace. 

But this can save my mother. This can save my community. I can ensure that no Jezebel, no Phameus, no Sidon, ever occurs again. Saying no to a promise like this, even if it drips from the lips of a liar, would be signing a death sentence for thousands.  

So, I nod. 

There is a sharp pressure as It connects Its mouth to my own. I move to pull away, to escape from Its embrace, but my limbs raise a protest against my mind. I feel my body tumbling to the floor, and before I can react, the darkness I know is replaced with a darkness unfound. 

________

I'm in a room, lying in a bed of silk and satin, blanketed by a ceiling of stars. They shift and flow like gentle waves, as though a nebulous sea is above me. When I stare around the room, I realize I'm not the only one present. Others reside in the corners and the floors; some look like myself, some remain an amalgamation of wings, eyes, and teeth, bejewelled and wrapped in velvet and silk. The air smells bitter, like sex and sacrilege, and heady breaths break a heavy silence. 

My eyes dart frantically, drinking in every color and shape I have missed in my twenty three years of life. Lost in the sensory overload, I only become stabilized when my gaze settles on the figure who resides beside me on the bed. 

Unruly dark hair, marked pale skin, and inky black eyes that are both empty and as vibrant as the stars above. They catch my gaze, and their kiss-swollen pink lips spread into a smile that gives both promises and damnation at the same time. Its teeth are white and as sharp as knives—the teeth of a predator.  

"I want to let you see." 

I drown in the darkness once more. 

________

I’m in a chamber. I think it must be similar to how I always imagined the worship chamber, but it lacks the warmth and comfort that the home of my patron god once held. It’s a cold, unforgiving environment in here, with its distance only emphasized by the darkness that engulfs the room. The nebulous stars that drifted above my head now dance all around me, comprising the walls and the ceilings with their shifting, effervescent forms. I drink in the galaxies and the planets as they circle by, right until my gaze drifts to the figure on my right. 

The Idol is beside me. I was true in my predictions—six great wings spread out, two that cover Its eyes and four that expand Its presence. Hundreds of eyes lazily watch myself and the other occupants of the room as though we’re providing It with sparse entertainment. It wears a robe, and a crown of stars above Its head that accompany a horned halo. Its hands are still that of a man’s, although they look as though they’ve been dipped in the stars that shine above us, and they reach out to grasp my hand as a man's would. 

“Watch,” is all It directs, and I oblige. There are others in this room with us, but I cannot discern their forms like I could the bedchamber. The Idol whispers to me about every single one. 

There is a gray presence in the corner, which seeps malevolence and despair as It hovers just above the floor. The Idol leans close. “Devourer in the mist, born of bile and tears.”

Another is a tall, slender man who seems to carry himself in similar gait to a Lord, broken only by the smile on his face. The Idol clicks Its tongue. “A Stalker among the stars. He has a strange affinity for your kind.” 

A third that I turn my attention to is nothing but an essence of mist, hovering between the stars that encircle the room. The Idol notices I watch It, and a bitter laugh escapes from Its throat. “Father, The Void. I was born of his rib, which he tore out of his body with his own two hands. He, like I, has a hunger which shall never be satiated.”

A shudder races through my body. I feel as though It’s watching me, despite the lack of eyes, and I force myself to turn away. The Idol provides no better comfort; It watches me with a too-wide mouth, hosting an array of sharp teeth within that are decorated with the black slime I have spent so many years cleaning. It looks amused at my misery. 

“And what are you?” I finally ask, “Which of this pantheon of horrors are you?” 

The Idol does not reply. It simply continues to watch me with a smile, right up to the moment that the stars erupt and the figures that accompany us become nothing more than wistful nightmares. 

________

When I wake again, I’m in agony. It runs through my veins like a sedative and morphs all my thoughts into terrible blurs. A shattered gasp slips through my lips as I press my blackened hands—

Blackened… hands?

I stare down at them in silent confusion. These are not my hands. I have never seen my hands before, but I have had the same ones for twenty three years, long enough to become accustomed to their feeling. My nails are not the talons of a predator. My skin has been stained with the black slime I clean, but not like this. I have no place for black, molten feathers to fall from, yet they surround me like a blanket of my own design. 

I taste rot on my tongue. 

My body moves on its own accord and forces me to raise my head, to look at the product of my actions. Stars dot the ceiling above me—they dot every ceiling I have seen on this hellish journey—illuminating the body that lies prone on the bed, its shadowy form far more still than what I saw in that chamber. 

The sight, the toxic smell, the heat that seems to oppress the entire room, causes me to double over and retch. Black bile spills from my mouth and hits the floor and I stare at it in a numb shock, unsure of how to process it. The agony in my body continues to throb; my neck, my chest, my stomach, my—

“Do you understand?” The Idols voice breaks through my panic-driven thoughts. I cannot see It in the darkness, but I hear It as though It's standing right in front of me. “The oppressed always prevail, little dreamer. The harder you try to stop something from happening, the higher its chances of failure become. I tasted sweet autonomy when I lived on your Earth—when I danced with your kings, when I caused your cities to crumble, when I consumed the flesh of your mothers and your sons—and I never wanted to lose that.” 

Hands touch my neck, my chest, my stomach, everywhere that I ache. I feel The Idol’s form looms over me. “So I had to take it back. Ach ewyll bah-eh mira mir-lil .” 

I don’t know what else It whispers in my ears that night. When the shadows come again to carry me out of this memory, I welcome them like a salvation. 

________

I don’t know at what point I end and The Idol begins. We become entangled in the past, It and I, like two lost stars seeking home in the never ending skies. We are so bright in our moments that we burn out, only to be born again in the next breath. Our hands fumble to lock in a vice-like grip, both of us afraid of losing and both of us too proud to admit it. I let It consume me in return for a taste of Its life; a deal that, although consequential, holds benefits for us both.  

We are only in the past for a moment but these moments weave a thousand years of emotions into my heart. I see It rise amongst the gods—as beautiful and loved as It claimed to be—and I see the moment that It fell from grace. I feel Its despair as It wakes in my world, as It travels from village to village, trying to discover the pathway back to the stars. I feel Its hunger, Its desperation, so powerful that tears fall down my cheeks. I feel Its desire, Its pain, and I do my best to soothe it all. I cannot change the past, but I can control the narrative. 

The Idol is my eyes, so I become Its heart. 

It allows me to press my hand over every scar and wound It so carefully conceals beneath the guise of confidence and allure. It wears a mask of a thousand faces—each one different from the next—but despite the disguise each new mask brings, the face underneath never changes. I reach out to trace my fingers around the edges. I want to lift that mask so I could see the name of the parasite that wraps itself around me. It does not move, even as I begin to reveal the smooth flesh of the chin underneath. 

It’s only when I get to Its lips, kiss-swollen and dripping black, that It calls for the darkness to hide It once more. 

________

I open my eyes to nothing. The pressure of The Idol’s lips against my own is the only tell that I am, in fact, back in the chamber. I taste toxin and rot on Its tongue, which swirls within my mouth as though seeking to consume me. I let It. I don’t move or respond until The Idol finally pulls away. I don’t speak when It does. I can’t. 

What does one say after living a thousand lives? 

“Did you enjoy the sights? Did they answer all that you wish to know?” It asks, a breathless whisper in the night. I mull over my answer carefully; I have never seen before, and the sights that I bore witness to—despite the terrors they contained—sit heavily in my mind. I know that I’ll replay them to myself for years to come, because they are the first and the last things I’ll ever see. 

One question remains unaddressed, though. 

“Which of that pantheon of horrors were you?” 

I make one change to the original question, because it finally occurs to me that I worded it wrong. The Idol no longer is; The Idol was, which is why It never deigned a response the first time. I am met with a silence, a long, exhausting silence, before The Idol finally laughs. 

It’s the laugh that a dog would give before tearing out a rabbit's throat. 

“Thousands of secrets revealed, and you still pine for the one that I did not give?” It traces a hand along my cheek as It asks this. The touch feels like blades digging into my flesh. “I should cut out your tongue for the audacity alone.”

I wait for It to continue. I know It isn’t done yet. 

“But you have been pliant with me, little dreamer. You have weathered yourself through a gods tale, danced with me when I requested, and I suppose that is grounds enough for a reward.” The Idol rests Its chin upon my shoulder, and I hear the smile in Its voice. “I will tell you, and then I will depart, and you will never speak word of what happened here tonight.”

No words come out of my mouth in response. If this is the deal It wishes to make, who am I to protest? The Idol, sensing my willingness, tilts Its head so Its lips are pressed against my ear. I pause in my thoughts as I feel something soft brush against my arm. Feathers. 

“I have had thousands of faces and thousands of names for the many years I have lived among you. The Envious, The Prodigal Son, The Void, The Harbinger of Greed.” I feel It smile again, and something wraps itself around me. It’s warm and comforting, like a lover's embrace, and the soft texture of feathers gently kisses my skin. “But you, Malchus? You may call me ‘Ymnar.” 

As soon as the words slip from Its mouth, I feel a terrible pressure rise up in my chest. A thousand eyes are watching me from the shadows, scrutinizing my every movement and breath. I feel claws and wings wrap tighter around me as though they’re afraid to let me go. That terrible, toxic scent grows in intensity, and my hands begin to dig into the darkness in front of me in a bid to make my escape, to make any escape. Agony throbs through my body, 

Then, nothing at all. 

I am floating in a nebulous galaxy—a forgotten speck, an essence of nothing, set in a direction it knows not itself, and I can only welcome the free-fall when it finally comes. 

________

There is no one in the community who can say, with absolute certainty, when It arrived. It was as though one day we all woke up in synchrony to find Its great, twisted form looming over the temple-goers. Gone was the image of our patron god, replaced with one of an entity even the most educated of our priests could not discern. 

There is, however, one person who can say with absolute certainty when It left. When I awaken to the warmth of sunlight upon my face, I am alone. The Idol, which had grown to become a staple in our lives, is gone—as though It had never existed to begin with.  

Naturally, there’s an investigation.

I am asked over and over again what occurred the night Sidon disappeared. I can give no answer. I sit, mute and numb, listening to the priests argue from the next room over. Mages and scholars alike throw out theories, all which are refuted. With no leads, the chaos soon eventually fades away. We all simply wish to move on. We all simply wish to forget.

 My mother and I both relinquish our positions as temple cleaners and elect to settle into a quieter life. I fall into an occupation of a story-teller; my elaborate tales of entities in the stars, of a temple cleaners journey with a Harbinger of Greed, draw in enough crowds that I can retain a stable income. 

In the wake of The Idol, The Head Priest cleanses and blesses the worship chamber, but when I ask about the chamber beneath the floors, I am met with nothing but confusion. The black slime ceases appearing from the foundations. No more funeral altars are built for missing children of the community. 

Life drifts back to how it was. 

Except for my dreams. 

Although it's far rarer now, sometimes there are moments in the night in which I believe It—’Ymnar—to be near. The faint smell of rot, a soft pressure of a hand on my chest, the sensation of feathers brushing along my skin. In my dreams I see a thousand eyes peering at me from above—Yarich’s own mockery of the galaxies It can never return to. They stare at me in unblinking silence until I, inevitably, raise my arms to embrace them. 

I don’t shy away from It anymore. I have lost the point where I end and ‘Ymnar begins. Even thousands of miles away, we are still as entangled as we were in Its memories. It shows me things, things that I will never experience again in this life, and so I welcome It back each night that It comes. 

Despite my better judgment, ‘Ymnar has become my eyes, and so I remain Its heart.

#char:sysba #char:malchus #thank you!!!

[rinrinx2]

Omg how about we get like a pov of rindou reacting when renzo doesn’t wanna hold his hand anymore😭

Hope you like it ♡

.

Hand holding

Rindou x reader

Warnings: none

"I don't wanna" Renzo babbled out as he let go of Rindou's hand for the 10th time in the last 20 minutes.

" Renzo hold my hand now" Rindou replied with much more authoritive tone now. He was no longer playing the 3 year-olds game.

Rindou was not about to let his son became a poster boy for the back of a milk cartoon because the young boy had decided he no longer wanted to hold his hand.

"Renzo hold it"

"You can't make me" Renzo said looking up at Rindou making eye contact with his father; the much smaller boy who was barely tall enough to reach his father's knees, stood his ground firm. He was not going to hold his hand, no matter what.

Rindou was taken aback by the young boys sudden switch in behavior, he was usually very accepting of holding his father's hand especially in crowded places.

"Haitani Renzo hold this hand right now"

"I don't have any hands" the small boy said pulling the sleeves of his sweater over his hands.

And all while Rindou argued with Renzo you stood on the sidelines watching as the scene played out. Feeling lucky as for once you were ignored in their arguments not being pulled in to play referee.

"Renzo what if someone steals you" Rindou asked with a raised brow trying his best to scare his son into holding his hand.

"Uncle Sanzu said if anyone steals me he'll hunt them down like a hungry man hunting a fat hog" Renzo said matter of factly as he spoke now without a stutter watching as his father face went completely blank just starring down blinking at him.

But just as Renzo was about to take his father's lack of reaction as a win Rindou began talking.

"Uncle Sanzu thinks he can kill a shark with a butter knife, his delusion" Rindou said as he reached forward in an attempt to grab Renzo's hand. Only to watch as the young boy began running just in time to not be grabbed by his father.

You watched as you saw you son running like his life depended on it in your direction, with you frowning husband following closely behind.

"Mommy!" Renzo screamed arms reaching out towards you hoping you'd shield him from his father.

"Make Daddy stop" the young boy said as he came to a stop infront of you, now slightly hanging onto your leg.

"(Y/N) make Renzo stop, and tell him to hold my hand" Rindou said as he approached the two of you.

And finally your luck for the day had ran out as you were once again playing referee for your son and husband's silly arguments.

"Rindou you can't force Renzo to hold your hand" you said causing your son to stick his tongue out mockingly at your husband.

"And Renzo you have to hold someone's hand"

It was now Rindou's turn to stick his tongue out in victory over the argument with Renzo.

"Fine I'll hold you hand mommy" Renzo said grabbing your hand placing his smaller one in yours.

"Fine then" Rindou said with a sigh as he began walking ahead of you and Renzo.

You looked down at Renzo and then at his hand you held. Your eyes quickly peering to your husband who you could tell was sulking. He had mentioned to you time and time again how he was scared that Renzo was growing up to fast, feeling as if his young son would soon be a man.

And this moment here only solidified Rindou's thoughts in his head. His son no longer wished to hold his hand. Even though you couldn't see Rindou's face you knew it was probably etched with sadness and you even though you couldn't read Rindou's thoughts you knew it was plagued with heartache at his son's rejection.

"Renzo why don't you want to hold daddy's hand?" You asked looking down at your son.

"Because I'm a big boy now" he replied keeping his gaze forward as the two of you continued to walk.

"But you're holding my hand which isn't that different from holding your dad's"

"I always hold daddy's hand and people always say I'm a baby for holding it. So if I hold mommy's I won't get called a baby"

"Just because you hold someone's hand doesn't make you a baby. Holding someone's hand means they love and care for you" you explained to your son, watching as his head snapped up at you to watch as you spoke to him.

"Daddy loves and cares about you alot that's why he always wants to hold you hand, I do too but it means alot to Daddy and he feels sad when you don't want to"

"Daddys sad?" Renzo asked.

"Yeah can't you tell look how his walking all hunched over like a sloth, you know he only walks like that when his sad"

"Oh no Daddy is sad" Renzo said realizing what was happening.

And soon enough you felt your son let go of your hand as he sprinted in the direction of Rindou.

"Daddy!" Renzo shouted as he ran to his father causing Rindou to turn around.

Rindou watched with slight shock in his face as he watched his son ran towards him coming to a stop infront of him.

"I love you too, Daddy now let's hold hands" Renzo said grabbing Rindou's hand causing the older Haitani to smile as he lightly gripped his son's.

"Do you feel happy now Daddy?" Renzo asked as he and Rindou began to walk again.

"Very"

"Good cause mommy said you walk like a sad sloth"

"Mommy said that? What else does she say about me?"

You listened as your son and husband spoke as they walked, hearing your son spill your secrets to you husband but not minding it at all if it meant he got to spend time with the person he feared he had the least amount with.

.

.

.

All rights reserved to @rinrinx2

#tokyo revengers #tokyo rev smut #rindou x reader #rindou x you #rindou haitani #tokyo rev x you #tokrev rindou #bonten rindou #haitani brothers #rindou scenarios #haitani rindou x y/n #haitani rindou x reader #rindou x y/n #haitani rindou #haitani rindou x you #haitani rindo x reader #rindou haitani x y/n #rindou haitani x you #rindou haitani x reader #rindou haitani smut #haitani rindou smut #rindou fanfic #rindou smut #rindou headcanons #rindo x reader #ran and rindou #rindo smut #haitani brothers smut #haitani brothers fluff #rindou x sanzu

[half-bakedboy]

please write established (maybe married) buddie on a call and oblivious buck getting hit on, jealous eddie "excuse me, he is married. to me"

loooove your fics

read on ao3

Eddie's barely paying attention to the patients he and Hen are caring for. They're both fine, really, and were sitting on the sidewalk when the 118 got there so Hen and Eddie went to work while Buck and Chimney dealt with the fire. He's too busy watching Buck fight each car flame with expert efficiency. He's laughing with Chimney, head thrown back as they spray the chemicals with the precision of two firefighters who had a bond like brothers-in-law.

It's times like these where Eddie remembers exactly why he fell in love with Buck. He finds joy in any situation, good or bad, whether it directly impacts him or not. Even the two patients seem amused by his carefree joy, and who is Eddie to blame them? Buck won him over that way.

"Since I'm all checked out, can I go take a closer look at the damage?" his patient asks. She's only got a small laceration on her arm, presumably from a piece of shattered glass, but is otherwise unscathed. She's fine to walk, but he's a little confused about what she thinks might be left.

"Yeah, sure. Buck!" he shouts. Buck turns around immediately, the smile widening on his lips. "She--"

"Beverly," his patient interrupts with her own shout.

"Beverly wants to take a look. You good?"

Buck nods his head and puts the fire extinguisher down onto the pavement. Eddie should notice the way Beverly practically rushes over, somewhere between a skip and a saunter, but he's hyper-aware of how close the end of their shift is.

He's got Abuela cooking dinner at home and three off-days in a row to spend with Buck, their first since they got married a few months ago.

(Eddie wanted to take a honeymoon but Buck wanted to take a page out of Bobby and Athena's book and wait a little while. Eddie had to nix the cruise idea almost immediately, even though he can't believe Buck even asked.)

He just wants to clean up, restock the ambulance for the next crew, then spend the next three days with his family.

But of course, nothing is ever easy for Eddie. Not with a husband like Buck.

"Ugh, this is just my luck. My boyfriend broke up with me yesterday and my friend was just trying to cheer me up with a drive." Eddie can practically hear a pout of her lips and makes eye contact with Hen who rolls her eyes playfully in return. "I can't believe I'm single and carless, now."

"I'm sorry, that really sucks," Buck says. He sounds so authentic, Eddie's heart clenches.

"You might be able to help me with one of those problems," she shamelessly says.

Buck, the beautiful man he is, barely notices the flirtation. "We have a phone in the ambulance you can use to call someone to pick you up!" He's like a puppy in his response, and Beverly deflates instead of praising him like he clearly deserves.

"I can find a way home." She pauses like she's trying to think of how to get him back on track. Eddie snorts because he's been trying to figure out how to do that for almost a decade now. "So, do you live around here? There's a lot of really cool restaurants I can recommend for when you're done with your shift."

Eddie has to give her credit for some really solid attempts.

"Our station is actually on the other side of town and I live in the opposite direction, but I'll keep that in mind if I ever find my way out here!"

Beverly sighs and glances at her friend for assistance, who is next to no help since she's still in shock, like Beverly really should be.

"So, you're at station 118 then?" he hears Beverly ask. Her voice is so obviously flirtatious that Buck has to have noticed.

"Uh, y-yeah. 118, that's us," Buck mutters, tone laced with nerves.

Eddie glances over at the stutter and sees Beverly much closer than even Eddie would be to him on a call. His eyes narrow but he stays put. Buck can take care of himself.

"I bet you can lift that much, too, huh?" Beverly makes a dire mistake, and that's to reach out toward Buck. "I'm only 115, so it'd be pretty easy for you to... you know, lift me, right?"

Hen mutters, "Uh oh." It's loud enough for her patient to ask what's going on, but Eddie doesn't wait for her answer. He does hear Chimney's practically diabolical laughter, and Buck's awkward throat clear.

"I just weighed in at 190 and most nights he lifts me with ease, isn't that right, Buck?"

Eddie almost wishes he'd been recording. Beverly's mouth drops comedically open before her hand slaps it back up, Chimney and Hen break into maniacal laughter that seems to break the other patient from her shock, and Buck blushes a deep red that disappears under his turnout and as far down as Eddie's sure Beverly was trying to get.

Just because he can, Eddie adds, “Though, I’m sure after we take our honeymoon, you’ll gain a lot of muscle during our… workouts.” 

“Jesus–” Buck breathes out. “It was great to meet you, Beverly. You said something about having a way to get home?” 

“Yeah, I’ve got a ride…” She turns to Eddie, a delightful smirk on her face. “Though, it’s not nearly as pretty as yours.” 

Buck’s a mess as Eddie bursts out in laughter, and he’s positive his team’s about to file a complaint to HR, but something about being able to stake his claim over Buck so openly now makes him giddy inside. 

Yeah, it's times just like these where Eddie remembers exactly why he fell in love with Buck. 

#buddie #911 on abc #911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie fic #i havent written one of these in a WHILE #very s7 coded of them imo #eddie is hilarious and has no shame #i stand by this #anonymous #answered #writing prompt #i didnt include the exact dialogue but i hope you'll forgive me anon!! #eddie decided to go rogue #my writing

[worriedvision]

A harbingers child (Part 2)

Part 1 here. Gender neutral reader, reader has a child with Dottore, you really need to read part 1 to understand this tbh...

There is gonna be a third part rounding this off, don't worry.

--

Neuvillette had taken in your son, feeling obligated to look after him and protect him from any Fatui tactics. He never grew attached to the child, unfortunately, and when the child looked exactly like Dottore, it only got worse.

Arguments were frequent, from your son calling Neuvillette 'dad' or 'father', to him voicing a desire to save you from your husband. The last argument, the day your son turned 15, led to your son crying - to which Neuvillette simply states that there is no use crying over things that couldn't be changed.

"But my parents husband is known to be evil!" Your child grumbles, walking towards the door. "They did so much for me, I have to save them."

"And how, pray tell, will you do this?" Neuvillette hums, your son turning to face him.

"I'm going to break into the house once I find the address, of course. I can argue this is a concerning case of domestic abuse, the fact they were taken in to be a 'babymaker'." Your son yells, gritting his teeth.

"That's the most correct you've been." Neuvillette states. "You are the product of such abuse. Not to mention, you picked up your father's physical traits..." Neuvillette growls, his hate seeping into the second part of the statement.

"Sir, I fail to see where I am wrong here. From reading the case notes, you tried harder than usual to dig up evidence that would take days to deliver and confirm to be truthful." Your son rolls his eyes, opening the door. "They deserve better than a man that doesn't love them." Your son finishes, making direct eye contact with Neuvillette before leaving without another word.

--

Your son, unbeknownst to Neuvillette, was on a mission. He meant what he said about rescuing you, and he had contacts. Lyney was worried about the whole judgement that comes from being linked to the Fatui. Upon hearing the fact your son is directly related to Dottore, however, he recalled a case he heard of years ago.

"I heard you're good with magic. I need to perform a disappearing act on my parent - that being to get them away from Dottore, and to a safe spot." Your son explains, Lyney listening. "Now, I have some information from the case I managed to dig up. This is the address, and there's evidence that Dottore is not divorced or widowed."

"So you want to kidnap your biological parents to rescue them?" Lyney asks.

"Name your price." Your son jumps in, fearing Lyney was going to say no.

"I'll get back to you on that. In the meantime...let's discuss this plan in more depth."

---

Your son and Lyney had a plan in place. A ship had been booked, after name dropping the case discretely and explaining this was a concern with your safety. Your son would walk through the front door, distracting you with the disguise that matched your husband when Lyney would sneak in through a window, knocking you out and taking you to safety. Yes, this wasn't entirely legal, however this would be a sure fire way to get you out, especially due to how identical your son looked to his dad.

Putting the mask on, your son starts the walk with Lyney.

--

You had been in your usual routine of checking every single room is precisely what your husband wanted. After learning the hard way your husband was going to mentally abuse you whenever something was imperfect, and he made these issues happen himself. Your husband wasn't due to be back in hours, and you don't expect any visitors.

Hearing the door clicking when you're in the main hallway, your heart sinks. You hadn't been anywhere near done, sorting the issues with a room Dottore had destroyed.

""I- I can explain." You whimper, your perceived husband slowly closing the door to prevent noise. Your husband only did this when he was about to really lay into you, using his methods to torture you before you apologise in a way he would accept.

"Please, I- I've finished cleaning the..." You trail off, increasingly more stressed at your husband's silence as he just stands there, staring at you.

You feel someone behind you, and you go to scream, only to feel a pair of arms around you as a soaked towel is placed over your mouth and nose. You feel a sense of reassurance from the figure behind you, your husband still standing there, and after a while you pass out.

--

Lyney had sat next to your sleeping form on the boat, your son mortified at the look of fear you had given him. You genuinely thought he was your husband, and you were terrified at what he was going to do. He thought Neuvillette was harsh when he made that comment about the similarities he had with Dottore, but he was right. He couldn't blame Neuvillette for not giving him a chance, he must have hoped for some similarity to you to be sprinkled in.

Upon returning to Fontaine, your son informs Lyney that he cannot make the court case, and Lyney was to do this for him. He hands Lyney the required script, along with directions as to how to do the paperwork.

Your son, feeling as if he was always going to be compared to his biological father, opts to start living in an abandoned cottage house in the wilderness.

#gender neutral reader #genshin impact imagines #angst #neuvillette #lyney #dottore