#minutes to find me again even though i was in the exact same place as she left me with the baby

[puckinghischier]

Chef’s Kiss

Nico x fem!reader, soft!Nico, domestic!Nico

summary: Nico fluff, basically

notes: i just really love soft nico and couldn’t get him out of my head so here’s this (also ignore the fact i keep using the same pics in my posts, i need to find more 💀)

[2k]

~

Nico was always trying to do little things to bring a smile to your face. Whether it was having the laundry washed, folded, and put away by the time you got home, sending you funny videos and silly selfies throughout the day, or simply having a glass of your favorite wine waiting on you as soon as you walked through the door, he loved providing small moments of happiness for you. He didn’t have time to do things for you often, his schedule getting increasingly busier as the season goes on, but today he had a completely free afternoon and wanted to have your favorite meal plated and waiting for you to enjoy as soon as you got off work. The idea came to him when you called him on what was supposed to be your lunch break.

“Neeks, I’m so sorry but I have to work late again. I’m having to re-do all of my reports for the day because my boss didn’t like the format that I used, even though it’s the exact format he told me to use three days ago! I swear sometimes he just wants to make my life a living hell. I don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

Nico had a fond smile on his face, despite the nature of your call; hearing you rant to him about work was always something he looked forward to. While he didn’t love the fact that you were upset and that your boss was a grade A asshole, he loved being the one you came to when you were frustrated and just needed to blow off steam. It always made him happy to know that he was the one you called when you needed a mid-day pick me up on particularly stressful days. He had tried to tell you multiple times to just quit—that he makes enough for the both of you to live on – but you wouldn’t even entertain the thought. You’d always tell him no and that you needed to pull your weight with the bills and rent, too. You didn’t want to have all of the tears you shed while you were in college go to waste. To quote your exact words ‘I’m going to use this damn degree even if it kills me’. He admired your work ethic and that you didn’t want to have him be your own personal bank, but it was times like this he wishes you would just take his suggestion to heart and actually quit.

“I understand, but don’t work too late, schatz. It’s not good for you. Tuck and I will be here waiting on you when you get here,” Nico looks over at the cat quietly snoozing over on the couch. “I noticed you left your lunch in the fridge; do you need me to bring you something? I don’t have to go back to the rink today for anything, so I could pick up something from that sushi place you like and we could have a little lunch date? Give you a few minutes to reset and recharge?”

“No, it’s okay. I don’t have time to eat today anyways. At this point working through lunch is the only way I’ll be able to come home before midnight. Thanks for the offer, though, Neeks. I have to go, my boss is calling me, probably to tell me something else I did wrong. I’ll text you when I leave, love you,” you hang up the phone, not giving Nico a chance to respond. He knows your boss hates when he catches you taking personal calls on company time, so he just sends you a simple “I love you, too. Please eat something and don’t work too hard” text since you hung up before he had time to tell you himself.

As soon as he pressed send, Nico grabbed his keys and took off to the grocery store. He really only went to pick up the ingredients to make dinner, but he couldn’t help making a quick stop at the local florist, grabbing a small bouquet of daisies he knows you’ll love. As he was driving home, he remembers this bakery you had told him you’ve been wanting to try, so he finds himself in said bakery picking out a few baked goods for you to taste test (and maybe a few for himself, too). By the time he had made it back home it was well past five, when you typically leave your office for the day. Once he brought his haul of groceries, flowers, and pastries in the door, Tuck greeted him by meowing loudly for his food.

“Sorry, Tuck, I’m late for dinner, aren’t I?” Nico asks the cat as he walks over and fills the hangry cat’s food bowl. “Now that you’re fed, I need to get to work on feeding your mom. That is, if I can manage not to burn anything.”

Nico got to work immediately, turning on the cooking playlist you had made and grabbing his ‘Kiss the Swiss’ apron you had jokingly gifted him for Christmas. He pulled out the recipe book that your mom gave you two as a house-warming gift when you first moved in. Just last week you had been talking about how you missed your mom’s famous pasta, so he decided that was his attempted dish of the night. He laid out all of the ingredients and followed the recipe as closely as he could, paying special attention to all of the little notes your mother added in the margins of the typed recipe. About an hour into Nico’s cooking you sent him a text that you were nearly finished and would be home soon, but he was so busy trying to perfect making pasta from scratch that he never even looked at his phone. When he was on his third attempt at the pasta dough, he heard the front door open.

He looked over at the clock to see that it was nearly seven-thirty. He heard your keys hit the bowl sitting on the small table beside the front door and your sigh of relief once you took your shoes off. He could hear the soft thuds your feet made on the hardwood while you walked into the living room. He looked up from the counter to see your tired body drift over to the couch where Tuck laid sound asleep.

“Hey, Tuck. How was your day? Did you catch a lot of Z’s? Dream about catching mice? Poop on your dad’s pillow again?” Nico heard your soft voice say, chuckling at your last question.

The poor kitten had, somehow, got locked in yours and Nico’s bedroom a few weeks ago and neither of you noticed until it was well past feeding time and the little furball hadn’t come running into the kitchen screaming for his dinner. It took the two of you twenty minutes to hear the soft meows coming from your bedroom, the TV in the living room having drowned them out for most of the day. As soon as you opened the door Tuck came sprinting out of the room as fast as he could, acting as if he’d been in there for days. He ran straight to his food bowl and turned around, glaring at Nico and yourself. Later that evening the two of you made your way to the bedroom to settle down for the night only to find that Tuck had left a nice, smelly present on his pillow. Nico was appalled, to say the least. Gagging and holding his pillow out with straight arms as if it was poisonous. You, however, were doubled over with laughter. You fell onto the bed and were laughing hysterically when Nico finally came back into the room, no pillow to be seen.

“I don’t know why you’re laughing; it’s disgusting! The cat shit on my pillow!” Nico expressed, standing in front of the bed with his arm crossed, looking like a toddler throwing a temper tantrum.

“Neeks, it’s hilarious! Out of all the places in the room he could’ve shit, he saw your pillow and thought ‘Ah, yes. Dad’s pillow. I think this will be my new bathroom.” You wipe the tears from your eyes, slightly out of breath from your laughing fit.

“Well, of course it’s funny when it’s not your pillow! If he would’ve shit on your pillow, you would be as upset as I am.” Nico huffed, still in his childish stance.

“Wait, where is your pillow?”

“In the trash.”

“You threw away the whole pillow!?” you exclaimed, starting to laugh all over again.

“Of course, I threw away the whole pillow! I’m not about to sleep on that thing tonight! It’s contaminated!”

“Nico, you could’ve just gotten a new pillow case. You didn’t have to throw your whole pillow away! What are you going to sleep on tonight?” You asked him, amusement clear in your voice.

“Well…I didn’t think that far ahead,” Nico said, his stance deflating a little.

He ended up sleeping on a throw pillow from the couch that night, picking up a new pillow on his way home from practice the next morning. Since then, the two of you have always made sure to keep your bedroom door open anytime Tuck isn’t in his usual spot on the couch.

Nico smiles at the memory, completely forgetting the fact that he was supposed to be kneading the pasta dough in his hands. By the time his thoughts circulate back to the task at hand, he hears you ask the cat “Where’s your dad, huh?” followed by the sound of your clothes rustling as you move to get off of the couch.

“Nico? You in here?” you call as you walk around the corner of the living room into the kitchen. “Neeks- Oh, there you are. What are you doing?” You stopped in the doorway of the kitchen when you took in the scene in front of you. The pots and pans on the stove, the steam coming from a pot of boiling water, the smell of chicken in the oven, and the bouquet of flowers and box of pastries on the counter next to them. Then your eyes move over to Nico, noticing he was absolutely covered in flour. He had flour in his hair, on his face, on his apron, in the floor, and all over the counter.

“Nico, what the hell are you doing? What is all of this?” you asked him once the two of you made eye contact.

“Well, I was trying to have dinner waiting on you when you got home because I know you’ve had a shitty day, but I’ve just now realized that I don’t know how to make pasta from scratch.”

“Why are you trying to make pasta from scratch?” you walk towards him, laughing at how distraught he looks.

“You said you’ve been craving your mom’s pasta recipe, so I thought it would be a good way to cheer you up after the day that you’ve had,” he replied, grabbing a towel to wipe the flour off of his hands.

“Nico, I love you, I do. And I appreciate the effort, but please throw that ball of…whatever that is in the trash and just use dried pasta next time,” you look over at what’s supposed to be pasta dough, reaching him and placing your arms on his shoulders, hands coming together to rest on the back of his neck.

“I try to make you a nice meal and this is the response I get? No ‘nice try’ or ‘wow, it smells great in here!’” he jokes, looking down at you, attempting to look offended, but his eyes only reflect love and amusement.

“You’ll get real praise when you learn how to make pasta from scratch. For now, consider this your compliment,” you stand on your toes, pressing a small kiss to his lips.

“You call that a compliment? Read the apron and try again.”

You laugh before meeting him halfway for a real kiss this time, thinking to yourself just how lucky you were to have Nico in your life.

#nico hischier #nico hischier blurb #nico hischier fanfic #nico hischier imagine #nico hischier one shot #nico hischier x reader #nico hischier x y/n #nico hischier x you #hockey #new jersey devils #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl blurb #nhl oneshot #nhl imagine #nhl fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl players #nhl #nhl hockey #nhl fic

[seattlesellie]

ok. can we talk about going with ellie to the mall because i think it would be… interesting.

(fluff ‘n a little bit of smut so mdni! 🎀 also wrote this ages ago and it’s so bad so excuse me!!! and reader is v fem)

౨ৎ when it comes to ellie williams— i believe she will throughly let you walk her like a dog. quite literally following you around the shops hand in hand— to the point where you’re merely dragging her around. at first, she’d be super chill and relaxed, but one hour later after seeing you try on the same dress three times already— she’d start groaning on and on. “babe… do we really have to go fucking zara again?”, when you tell her that you just regret not buying a certain top, she’d be so adorably pissed off, her eyebrows all furrowed together, just thoroughly confused. she would probably want to stop and eat some food every 5 seconds. “zara… or mcdonalds” ,weighing the two options on her hands and clearly placing the mcdonalds option way higher.

౨ৎ if there’s an arcade— you know her ass is fully stopping in her tracks, begging you to come and play some games with her. obviously, you oblige, because she’s giving you the biggest and cutest puppy eyes you’ve ever seen, and maybe she’d stupidly jump up when you say yes. she ends up beating you in every single game— and it's so painfully obvious that she’s been there about 17 times already.

“ellie, you’re only winning because you’re here every single day. you’re like a totallll loser” you defend, after she’d been gloating about her winning streak for 5 minutes straight. unsurprisingly, she just denies it. 

“i swear— ive never been here before, babe”

“els, be honest” you warn.

“okay— been here like once with jesse”

“once?”

“once… plus like five” and at that— she turns around, and places her hand behind her back, so you can intertwine it with yours. she’s sooo beating you in bowling.

౨ৎ while you’re browsing through clothes — shed be hugging you from behind tightly, as she kisses on your neck and silently begs for your attention.

“this skirts super cute, right?” you chirp, pointing at the plaid mini skirt and slowly tracing the soft fabric with the pads of your fingers.

ellie has her chaste lips right on your pulse point, and she’s barely even looking.

you pick it up, and she moves closer behind you with her hands still clinging on to your waist. “cute, right?” — you can feel ellie’s smile slowly form on your neck.

“yeah, babe… you’re very cute. thought you knew that already, though”

౨ৎ when you pull out two pieces from the rack (amethyst purple & floral purple) and ask her which color will fit you better, she just rolls her eyes and huffs. “babe… you cannot be serious they're the exact same”, to you, they are NOT. but ellie fully doesn’t get it at all.

౨ৎ put her in a gamestop— and it’s like she won the lottery. browsing through the different controllers, now its your turn to tease and tell her they’re all the exact same. put her in a NINTENDO shop and its literally over. her eyes are twinkling and sparkling, and shes borderline skipping through the store trying to find cool figurines. when she sees a bowser plushie (her mariokart main, duh) she picks it out so fast, and then tries to find you a plushie too— a princess peach or a kirby or whatever you want. she goes to pay, and when you leave the store with your two adorable new plushies inside the bag— ellie fully side eyes you. she has something to say, and you know it. she sighs deeply— “think theyre fucking in there?”

“if they’re anything like us… theyre fucking in there— oh my god, babe… bowsers humping her ass, look” —

she’s literally moving them inside the bag.

౨ৎ okay, so you’re done paying at zara (with her credit card but let’s not… talk about it), ellie left about 15 minutes ago because she was tired of looking at the clothes and she said that place looks like a mental asylum. you’re walking out of the shop with the bags in your hands, and you see her sitting on one of the random mall couches with a random grey haired middle aged man. weirdly, they seem to be in the midst of an incredibly intense conversation. you twist your face because what the fuck and;

“waiting for the wife, huh?” she asks him, manspreading on the chair with her hands resting on her thighs. they’re both staring at the store’s entrance, both sighing heavily. “that i am…” the old man huffs, and ellie chuckles to herself. “me too man… me too”

౨ৎ five minutes later — you find them talking about fucking bathroom tiles.

“i told her i wasn’t going to do marble— but she fucking insisted on it”

you walk a little closer, and ellie is still heavily rambling about floor stuff (?) you have absolutely no clue about.

“els…? ready to go?” you chirp, smiling warmly at the stranger. “gimme a sec” ellie looks at you from the corner of her eye, and keeps going. they’re exchanging numbers because they need to start thinking about how to build a new patio, and he has some “awesome fucking tips, man”

౨ৎ ellie places her hand on your shoulder as you’re walking away, and squeezes. “he was such a cool dude” she remarks, with a stupidly dumb, satisfied smile.

“ellie… he was like, sixty five”

“so? we bonded, babe” she shrugs.

“about floor tiles?” you ask her, and she begins rubbing little circles on your shoulder as you both stray further away from the shop.

“amongst other things” ellie chews on the inside of her cheek. should she say it?

“what things?” you smile sheepishly at your girlfriend, who’s seemingly nervous for some reason.

“you know… his wife…” she bites her cheek even harder now. she should definitely not say it. “my wife” okay— there it is.

her wife.

ten whole seconds of absolute radio silence pass. ellie thinks she might have said too much, but ellie doesn’t know you’re fighting for your life trying to hold on to your tears that are threatening to erupt.

her wife.

“you’re proposing here then, i assume?” you’re trying not to sound emotional, trying not to sound like your hearts about to burst out of your chest and start doing cartwheels on the malls pavement.

“nah… definitely somewhere way classier. like… bora bora, or the food court”

“food court?”

ellie has to stop. ellie has to stop and hold your hand.

“yeah… so i can hide the ring inside your burger n’shit. then you like… choke on it, then i save you… then not only am i a fuckin’ hero, i also get to like… marry the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen. and she has to say yes—” there’s no point in swallowing down your toothy smile now. “cause like… i saved her life, y’know?” as much as ellie’s joking, ellie’s cheeks are burning up.

“will you… say yes, though?” she balances her weight from leg to leg, and averts her gaze. mmhm— what an interesting sign!

the way you place your hand on the back of her neck and kiss her hard— that’s definitely a yes.

ellie won’t propose to you in the food court, though. in fact, she has this elaborate plan she has been thinking since about a month into your relationship. that, you’ll never guess.

౨ৎ mall ellie is ALL pda. she doesn’t let go of your hand like ever and constantly needs little kisses on the cheek. she bought you a cute new top? kiss on the cheek. cute dress? kiss on the cheek and on the nose. she doesn’t want you to say your thank you’s, she’d much rather you show them.

౨ৎ when you’re at a lingerie shop… suddenly she comes fully alive. its literally as if someone infused her with seven shots of caffeine and she can’t seem to be able to stop handing you different bra’s, panties, and sexy little nightgowns.

“that’ll look so fucking hot on you” & hands you the sluttiest thong youve ever seen. “that— will drive me fucking crazy” & hands you a sheer bra she can imagine your nipples poking out of.

“wanna eat you out in that” as she hands you a little nightgown and you’re like “ELLIE!” and slap her arm her because a 60 year old woman literally just heard her and looked like she was about to have an aneurysm.

“actually— wanna eat you out in that… and in that too… and in that— oh my god look baby they’re crotchless” wiggling her eyebrows and swaying the fabric in the air.

౨ৎ obviously… she wants you to model them for her. it’s funny, how she didn’t give a fuck when you tried a cardigan on or a hat or saw a cute purse, but now she’s demanding to go inside the dressing room with you and stare you down in the mirror like a perv. she watches you strip out of your clothes and you purposely do it extra slowly, taking your time removing the bra… and now, she’s just leaping out of her sit.

“nope— doing that for you…” she unclasps it, stands behind you and immediately gropes your tits. she gives you sweet little kitten licks and kisses on the neck, whilst maintaining full eye contact with her hands on your boobs from the mirror, and you can’t help but whimper when she takes your hardening nipples between her fingers and rolls them in her thumb. “ellie… were in public” you hiss, bucking your ass onto her crotch.

“we’re not in public, were in a dressing room…” she whispers, like she knows best.

“plus, i gotta test these little panties out… s’for you, y’know?”

ellie makes you sit on her lap to watch it up close, until she’s fully satisfied and is sure that they fit just right, and that she can see herself peeling them off of you. “give me a little wiggle, babe”, she rasps, as her hands roam over your naked waist.

“a wiggle?” you giggle, and burry your face in the crook of her neck.

“like… grind yourself up against me. gotta test the fabric, make sure you’re… comfortable” and— of course you do. you grind yourself up against her thigh until you forget what you even came to the mall for.

ellie’s eyes are fixated on you, taking in your little silent whimpers as you “test the panties” out.

“think… fuck— think we gotta buy them now… soaked ‘em all up, huh?” ellie pants, as she helps you grind your body back and forth. when ellie looks down on her thigh, truly just to watch how your pussy lips swallow the drenched material, ellie comes to an extra conclusion as well. there’s a sticky wet patch, almost heart shaped, over her denim jeans.

“shit… babe, look at that mess…”, she holds you by the back of your neck, and guides your head down. “mhm… gotta buy me some new jeans” your breath cages inside your throat as you begin to stutter, “sorry, el… didn’t mean to”

“oh fuck no… it’s… shit— so fuckin’ hot”

anyways, mall ellie is a menace.

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader #ellie x reader #ellie williams smut #ellie williams fanfiction #ellie williams x you

[lovesickeros]

☆ glimpse of divinity

{☆} characters lyney, neuvillette [ separate ] {☆} notes cult au, drabble, gender neutral reader {☆} warnings none {☆} word count 0.8k

× neuvillette

The first time he sees you strolling the streets of Fontaine with a glint of wonder in your eyes, he thinks he must have finally lost it. He has to rub his eyes and check a few dozen times before he's certain that you are, in fact, real and not some figment of his imagination conjured by a lack of sleep and overdose on caffeine.

..Though now that he gets a better look, it's not quite the same. Like a smudged painting, he thinks. Still, the uncanny resemblance to the visage of the Divine One has him lingering around the area just to stare a little longer, a deep, devoted sense of affection bristling beneath his skin.

And then you turn sharply on your heel, staring directly back at him, and he feels a sudden wave of embarrassment and something akin to shame.

Archons, he'd just made a fool of himself, hadn't he?

He quickly turns away, clearing his throat and hiding his embarrassment behind his hand. Though it does not seem to deter you, the soft tap of your shoes growing closer until you were peering up at him with wide eyes.

"..Hello." He offers awkwardly, a little too stiff and a little too formal, but you don't seem to mind in the slightest. He knows that your appearance, your vague similarities to the Divine One are mere coincidence, but it does not stop his heart from skipping a beat when you smile up at him. "I– apologize for being so uncouth and staring, it's just.."

His voice trails off into a breathy exhale, his hand twitching on his cane as if he wanted to reach out and touch you..but he restrains himself in time. He could not make a bigger fool of himself – he would never hear the end of it from lady Furina.

"You remind me of someone."

He decides, readjusting his hands on his cane as he bows his head for a moment is a show of genuineness, though it must look awkward with how stiff his body feels.

Yet he cannot help but want to get closer anyway, to hear the silky lilt of your voice grace his pointed ears. This is as close as he will ever get to the Divine..he is a weak man, he finds, as he offers a hand to you.

"I understand if this is a bit..forward, but would you mind joining me for tea?"

× lyney

He is a master magician – his entire work is built on keen misdirection and sleight of hand, but even he stumbles for a minute thinking he'd seen an illusion in your warm smile and striking features. Almost an exact copy of the Divine One, yet not quite..

Still, it's enough to pique his interest – enough, too, to give him the confidence to slip into your conversation with ease, all smiles and the slip of a card between his fingers.

"Hello, stranger – I don't think I've seen you in Fontaine before," He laughs, his hand reaching around to rest gently on your opposite shoulder, his voice a ghost of a whisper in your ear. "Say, could I interest you in a bit of magic?"

He perks up at the way you seem to light up like fireworks at his offer, a spark almost like recognition in your eyes he brushes aside – he's quite well known, after all.

"Good! Now, if I may just borrow your attention for a minute.." He grins, stepping around you and turning sharply to face you, his hand outstretched with a deck of cards in his hands, face down. "Let's start simple, shall we? I shan't overwhelm my audience – pick a card."

He holds the cards out again, his features twisted in something like awe, though he hides it well.

His heart flutters at the briefest of glances of your hand against his as you pluck a card from his hand, and he quickly retracts it, reshuffling the deck with a broad grin and a wink.

"Do your best to remember it! If you could return it to the deck.." The card is placed back in it's place amongst the rest, and the magic begins!

"Now then, let's see..hm," He hums for a long moment, the silence filled by the constant shuffle of cards until he suddenly plucks one from the deck, flipping it around for you to see. "Is this your card?"

He frowns when you shake your head, almost pouting, before he lights up again and steps forward.

"Ah! How foolish of me, I missed it..it's riiight here, see." He winks, reaching behind your ear..and pulls free a card from seemingly thin air. He flips it around for you to see again, and when you tell him it is, in fact, your card, he flips it around again.

And before you can see it, he's holding a rainbow rose between his fingers, his hand outstretched as he bows.

His eyes glint with a sort of wonder as he looks at your features, his smile widening a fraction.

"Well, dear stranger? Did you enjoy the show?"

#sagau #genshin sagau #self aware genshin #genshin impact sagau #self aware genshin impact #fic tag #neuvillette #lyney #basically reader IS the creator but since the statues of you were built on vague descriptions its a bit off from your actual appearence #so everyone jsut thinks ur like #blessed or smth #anyway can u tell i love fontaine. #furina isn't here bc pt 2 of my prev fic somehow turned into focalors only and i need 2 save my brain power fr That #anyway enjoy these drabbles i wrote in like 5 minutes gn zzzzzzzzzzz #i just needed a breather from that long fic bc im DYING over here lord

[isatoru]

SUPERNATURAL

PAIRING ❤︎ Itoshi Rin x GN! Reader

SYNOPSIS ❤︎ Rin is puzzled by how he finds himself indulging in your smallest and strangest desires (by his definition), ones he doesn’t understand why agrees to in the first place. Must be something supernatural, he thinks. Or that’s just love. Or both.

WORD COUNT ❤︎ 2K (?? still short lmao don’t be fooled <3)

CONTENT + WARNINGS ❤︎ SFW ; this work may be sfw but my blog is 18+ !! no minors please // domestic fluff // gender-neutral reader ; no physical descriptions // i’m only adding a cw just cuz my blog is 18+ lmao // he’s a little mean in this but he loves you sm i promise // the classic he does pushups and you ask to be under while he does it trope // just short n sweet!!

NOTE ❤︎ omg finally posting writing after 2 years everyone be nice 2 me 🙂‍↕️🙏 easing into posting after so long w smth sweet;;; ily and ily itoshi rin… my grumpy kitty… also posted to ao3 if you'd like to read it there!!

❤︎ DAILY CLICKS FOR PALESTINE + DONATE ❤︎ AO3 ❤︎

Itoshi Rin takes only thirty minutes to warm up and then another thirty to actually warm up, to hit peak performance in his workout. 

The sweat trickling from his hair, sticking to his forehead, now reaches the sides of his cheek— hot and regulatory, jaw clenched unconsciously as he does it, the blood is rushed pumping to his arteries and his eyes are dead set staring at the living room couch just in front of him, fixated at the leather and its crevice linings that spread throughout. 

When alone, he is always far too focused and absorbed in himself that he never pays attention to his surroundings, not in the slightest. Only to the current fast-paced beating of his heart and the grip on the ground to steady himself in his push-ups. And the voice in his head to keep at it, push, push, push. 

More notably, in doing so he does not realize immediately that someone has slipped between his arms that ground him, beneath his leveled torso, that it seems wrong otherwise in this position — almost ensnared in his hold.

Even though a trap is far from the intention.

You never fail to take him by surprise, even after all these years of dating you. 

It makes Rin feel restless in an irritating yet somewhat… endearing way. You take him by stupid surprise and it can be nice. Just a bit.

(He would never admit it to you outright, though. He’s always afraid of what can rush to your head easily. There’s no stopping you then.

Not that you ever could be stopped.)

He feels like a cat — enjoying its solitude and peace as it relaxes, lounging — flinching away from its owner who suddenly lunges (often) at the poor thing with its overwhelming affection and love, leaving it wide-eyed and flustered every single time, processing the shocking betrayal of its peaceful afternoon.

The exact same scenario is applicable here. Though, that’s said in loose terms. Rin is, after all, not a cat — and you are not his owner. 

Yet, you persist as if you are. You are a nuisance — that is a fact. (One he denies on the inside, but that’s digressing.)

“What the hell?”

The pang in his heart is purely from shock and the interruption of his workout, and definitely not because of the sloppy grin that adorns your features, soft and tender eyes staring up at him when he meets them, his own widened.

(Your grin with intent, totally scheming intent, he thinks. Bewitching, even. Usually harmless, in fact, but that’s digressing again.)

“Sorry, sorry!” You squeak beneath him, toothy grin stretched as you lift your hands (in an attempt) to push him back up, help steady his grip — not that he needs it after all, he manages just fine. “Don’t mind me. Just enjoying the view.”

Rin doesn’t react to your comment (you’d argue it’s a compliment, a playful one that reminds him of how much you find yourself attracted to him, but he only blankly stares at you each time) because he doesn’t want you to think you’re as charismatic as you try to be. He has never found you so, in fact, and he won’t in the foreseeable future.

(There is not a threat of a grin on his own face at this moment, not one. Not a single one.) 

There is visible redness to his cheeks, though, and a crease beneath his lashes that seems to be a grimace but it’s an unconscious attempt to not appear flustered, not in the slightest. 

He argues it’s the intensity of the workout, in his head.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He says, ignoring your comment.

You pout and he grimaces more in response.

“Well, if I were to answer that correctly I would say that I think I’m doing something to annoy you—per usual—but,” You quip, bringing a finger to his chest. “I will say the truth instead. I just want to try something cute with my boyfriend.” 

Rin only blinks, and surprisingly his irritation hasn’t set in — not just yet. It is about to, though.

(If irritation in this scenario meant the rate of his heart spiking due to unwarranted… cuteness; he feels the word at the tip of his tongue and it makes him want to throw up. It’s too much, he thinks.)

“Get out,” he grunts, softly.

You squirm for a minute beneath him and his eyes watch as you… make yourself more comfortable?

“No can do, I’m afraid,” You laugh. “I’m stuck here for the time being.”

Rin would never admit that, on days like this, he’s so used to your constant and useless pestering that is meant to be affectionate, that it never actually disturbs him. It disrupts this balance he maintains in his schedule, his peace of mind sometimes; but it doesn’t actually disturb anything. He’s just often easily irritable and grouchy. 

(Or there’s something supernatural going on… you somehow make it go away by some magical force Rin doesn’t see. That has to be it.)

Even so, in some way, he has to avoid it because it is too much — not with the way his heart spikes. 

“Alright.”

He finds himself mumbling that as he jerks his knee to sit back beside you, to no longer be hovering over you, when your fingertips suddenly grasp the fabric of his shirt, yanking him back down he almost stumbles if he wasn’t so stable at doing this.

Rin’s arms almost felt wobbly. Almost. 

(His lips almost touched yours and it’s frankly insulting that your intention wasn’t to kiss him. Completely not because of his grip, he never falters.)

“Oh—no, no, no!” You urged. “You’re not going anywhere. Keep doing those push-ups, boy.”

He narrows his eyes at you.

“Go be weird somewhere else until I’m done,” Rin grumbles. “You’re distracting and an obstacle in my way.” 

And then again, you laugh, louder it makes his grip a slight bit unsteady. Only a slight bit.

“Only Itoshi Rin calls his lover an obstacle unironically,” You sigh. “You’re lame. Let me have this.” 

“I could crush you,” he says. “And this is very cringeworthy, even for you.”

You gasp in clear offense and pinch his bicep. He doesn’t react to it in the slightest, his lips are pursed in a firm line as usual.

“First off, it’s not cringe, that’s rude — this is something couples do all the time,” You retort, brows furrowed in anger it makes Rin slightly unstable. Slightly. “Second, nothing gets past you, Rin! You could even do hand standing push ups like this and it would come naturally to you — so what’s the excuse?”

He wonders that too.

“Lukewarm couples,” he clicks his tongue. “Even more cringeworthy.”

You lightly smack his bicep and it makes him deadpan. Like an insect that flew by and collided with his skin aggressively; you are literally harmless.

And yet, he's feeling a bit dizzy, like one would be after a sting or something.

“We are not just any couple, Rin! If the activity itself is ‘lukewarm,’ then that should be a sign that we as a couple should turn it around,” You remark, raising a finger like the absolute nerd you are. “‘Un-lukewarm’ it, if you will. What do you say?”

Rin still scowls at you, but it’s much gentler than earlier initially — he doesn’t want to do this, he doesn’t want to do stupid and banal things other lame couples do. 

“You’re weird and annoying.”

The very idea makes him want to stick his tongue out in fake disgust... 

“C’mon,” You pout, “for me? Please? Pretty please?”

But… it’s also coming from you. And it’s never been easy to actually deny you of anything, even when he complains — it’s a phenomenon, really. What causes him to succumb to all that is you? 

There is that effect you always have on him that is impossible to resist and Rin still thinks it’s some sort of outside force, something supernatural, he’s so sure of it. Now more than ever, he will never learn to understand. 

Especially when you prod at him with a face like that… it makes something in him always stir. And it’s never been him.

“Fine,” He grumbles, rolling his eyes. “Do what you want, I don’t care.”

“Yay!” You squeal gently, feet kicking softly beneath him. “You won’t regret this, baby. Pretty soon you’ll ask me to be your workout partner too!”

“No,” Rin says dryly, pushing himself back up again.

“You’re right,” You gesture, “I have to introduce you to other couple workouts before that… but this’ll do for now.”

Rin lowers himself down to your level, and his nose brushes against yours for a moment that it makes you wrinkle yours cutely in response to the sudden touch, but he goes back up like it was nothing — not smiling, not blushing.

“Wow. You’re always so serious, lighten up,” You huff. “Also so handsome, my god. Especially from this angle, it makes me wanna… hmph.”

He does two more pushups before noticing your silence, your lips wobbling like you want to say something and he grumbles before indulging you.

“Makes you want to—what? Do more of this crap?” He grimaces, raising his brows. 

“No,” You laugh. “Makes me wanna… kiss you. Kiss you stupid, at that.”

Rin pushes himself back up and looks straight ahead, away from you. A vein twitches in his head when you whine at the loss of eye contact.

“Can I kiss you? Please?” You pout, tilting your head.

It’s supernatural. He will never learn to understand.

“You’re a pest,” He huffs.

It doesn’t surprise you when he says that, but it always takes you by surprise, even more so, when his eyes narrow and bore into yours. 

And he gives you what you want. 

The kiss is a little unsteady with his arm, a little salty due to the fact he’s sweating and it probably tickles down to his mouth in the process, and a little—no, very sweet. Your hands on his face, your thumbs rubbing his cheek bones, back and forth beneath his lower lash line — he didn’t mind it. It felt nice, nicer than he’d like to admit — it makes his grip falter slightly and it almost makes him scowl at that. 

It’s just a kiss. Yet, you’re overpowered here, it’s definitely supernatural. 

You’re so happy. And he feels it when you grin into his mouth. 

When he pulls away, you giggle in such a ridiculous manner that if it wasn’t you he’d call you a loser and physically cringe. Instead, his cheeks grow hotter and his lips aggressively shut, his eyes narrowed still but glad to be staring back at you. Natural, now.

He feels a little dizzy. But he manages. Kiss him stupid, you did.

“That was so cute, I’m—!”

“Shut up.”

You close your eyes so aggressively in excitement and nod fast. Alright, sure, whatever. You got what you wanted, after all.

“I’ll deal with you later,” He murmurs, pushing himself back up.

Everything about love in theory was always lukewarm to him. That was, of course, until he was subjected to it by your presence, and he’s never been the same about it since.

Supernatural… yeah, right. 

Rin actually learned a while ago to understand that there’s nothing supernatural about your love or learning to tend to it, even when it disrupts the balance of his so-called nature, it’ll always live in you. In all its ways that he’s learning to grasp.

He’ll learn to grasp it in his hand, just like he learns that he simply can’t continue his workout now that you're here, looking up at him like that; just like he learns to click his tongue and say “screw it” to finishing his workout because he can’t stand it, just like he picks you up off the ground to carry you to the bedroom with a scowl., indulging in whatever it is that you want. 

He may never learn to fully express it, but he’s learned a few things from doing what you love. And that is small, stupid, things like these make him love you more, somehow. And he’ll learn by always giving it you when you ask, even if it’s ridiculous by his definition inherently. 

Love is… not impossible, not "supernatural;" and it’s certainly not out of this world to fall for it more with you every time.

#sora.writes #<- WOAHHHH ITS HAPPENING #sora.rin #sora.bllk #itoshi rin x reader #rin x reader #bllk x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk fluff #itoshi rin fluff #blue lock fluff #*terminator voice* I'LL BE BACK ... to srb in a couple of hours mwah #i don't expect this to do well LMAO but this is for me to ease my nerves back into posting!!! smoochies :3

[azrielbrainrot]

I Laugh Like Me Again... She Laughs Like You - Part 6

Pairing: Azriel x Reader

Description: Azriel would give anything to hold you one more time.

Warnings: Violence, Torture, Gore

Word Count: 5550

Notes: This took me a bit longer to write than I anticipated but I wanted to make sure not to forget any details. Hope you enjoy!

Part 5

The sun was already shining high in the sky when you finally stepped out of the dungeon. Feyre had arrived with Cassian and Amren a few minutes earlier, ordering her mate, you and Azriel to go and get some rest while they took over for a few hours. Rhysand could only use his daemati powers for so long and the strain was starting to become visible on his face, so she likely could feel his fatigue through their mating bond. His efforts were starting to be in vain anyway, you needed to wear Norris down a lot more physically before his mental walls would start giving in.

You didn't want to leave at first, completely unwilling to take your eyes off Norris for even a second, but both you and Azriel had been forced to go take a bath and eat something, maybe even get some sleep and only come back later in the day. Logically this made perfect sense, but you'd rather stay with him until he told you everything you wanted to know. You believe them all to be more than capable of handling this but you also know Norris, if anyone could find a way to escape from the Night Court's dungeons it would be him.

Still, you knew it was going to take a lot longer than a few hours to crack Norris so you needed to keep your strength, you wouldn't be any help at all if you exhausted yourself. Apparently the same wards around your memories were also present in Norris' mind, meaning Rhysand was only able to knock him out in the forest but not read through his thoughts, the same way he wasn't able to reach your memories before. This meant he was the one in control of said wards, both his and yours. Amren was quick to explain that since they had been done with the help of a witch's tool, he had to have it with him to keep up his wards since it wasn't his own magic that was keeping them in place.

It also explains why he risked becoming your handler even though letting you know him could lead to this exact outcome. He needed to strengthen your wards every once in a while to make sure no memory slipped through them. Unfortunately, even without his checkups the wards were strong enough that simply time wouldn't give your memories back in full, at best only letting you see some fragments. There was also no way of knowing what they could do to your mind when left unattended so your only option was to keep pushing him until he told you everything you needed to know.

The tool he used couldn't be far, he either had it on his person or hid it somewhere close before meeting you in the forest. You've searched through his belongings more than once, as did everyone present in the cell, including Azriel's shadows, but came up empty. He likely had a powerful glamour cast on it, one you had to make him break. Getting your hands on that tool meant you could break both the wards around his mind, which would grant Rhysand access to any and every piece of information he wanted, and the wards keeping your memories hidden inside you. One simple object could set you free.

Azriel winnowed you to the middle of the mountains surrounding Velaris, right behind the House of Wind, making sure no one in the city could see your bodies drenched in blood but unable to winnow you straight home. Having a house protected by wards that didn't allow for any winnowing, even by its inhabitants, was really good in theory, you've never seen a safer place really, but in practice having to fly up every time was more than annoying, especially when you don't have wings of your own.

The air was strangely awkward around the two of you since you hadn't spoken a word to each other after the short argument in the forest. Most of your annoyance had worn off at this point, got redirected at your smug handler chained up in the dungeon, but you still wanted him to be the one to come to you and explain himself. His attitude earlier had seemed completely different from everything you'd experienced until then, you know there's a reason for it but you're too prideful to ask him about it.

The only plausible reason you could think of is that he's been using you to get to an assassin with a higher up position in the guild, but something told you immediately that wasn't the case, it seems like a part of you balked at the thought that he'd betray you like this. Even putting your annoying phantom feelings aside, it didn't make sense considering the High Lord has followed his word on letting you help in interrogating Norris. Your mind was fresh out of ideas, and much too tired to analyze that small argument. He'll tell you what happened eventually, and if he doesn't… Well, then it's a good thing you didn't get your hopes up even more.

“I'll fly you up to the House,” his voice was scratchy from not being used in so long, making it deeper as he almost whispered beside you, not wanting to disturb the quietness in the mountain. Azriel had done most of the cutting and breaking but he hadn't even asked Norris any questions, content in letting you and Rhysand take over the interrogation while he carved out Norris' skin. You can't be sure if it was because of your fight or just the grueling last few hours but he didn't seem to be in the best mood anyway.

You nod up at him, simply walking closer and letting him pick you up into his warm embrace, strong hands careful as they handle your body. You've only flown once - from what you can remember at least, you can't imagine a version of yourself who wouldn't ask her husband to take her flying regularly if he had wings - and, given the circumstances, you didn't really have the chance to stop and truly enjoy the moment. It would be the same now, even worse given the fact that you'd rather not deal with the shadowsinger, but the breeze hitting against your tired body sounded heavenly, and so did the big bathtub and soft mattress waiting for you up in your room. There was also no energy left in your body to even try to argue with him, if there was you would have been using it on your handler.

His body relaxes slightly when you simply slip your arms around his neck, his wings stretching and flapping a couple of times as he got ready to take flight. He looked like he was expecting you to refuse, as if there was any other way to the House besides flying and he wasn't the only Illyrian here.

The actual flight doesn't take long, within a few moments Azriel is gently setting you down back on your feet at the top of the stairs, hands lingering on your body as if moving on their own, a habit he can't quite break himself out of. You meet his eyes, briefly wondering if you should say something, debating if you have enough patience in yourself to extend a small olive branch to the male who is covered in the blood of your enemy.

He beats you to it, looking down before speaking as if he couldn't hold your gaze for top long - yet another way he's acting out of character. “You're free to do what you want. I'll meet you in your room and fly you back to the dungeon when it's time. I won't bother you before that.” The professional, detached tone in his voice makes your annoyance want to rise up but you swallow it down, realizing how tired you really were as soon as you had stepped foot inside the house.

“Alright,” you tell him before turning around and walking straight to your room, never looking back to see his reaction or the way regret flashes in his eyes as he watches your every step away from him.

Azriel stayed true to his word, only coming to check in on you right before it was time to return. You can't even be sure if he stayed in his room the whole time, if he truly spent these few hours resting as he was ordered since there was no sound coming from his room or around the house at all. Curiosity had gotten the best of you a couple of hours ago, when you woke up from your nap feeling strangely alone, like a piece of you was begging to go find him. This feeling was clutching at your heart for long enough that you actually considered going to find Azriel, but held on since you didn't fully know your way around the house and you had no idea where he could be. You didn't really know what to say either.

Luckily it wasn't long until you heard his footsteps getting closer to your room before a soft knock sounded at the door. He always does this, makes sure to let himself be heard before knocking. Sitting up at the edge of the mattress, you call out to him, wondering if he'll tell you anything now or simply fly you back to the cells.

As soon as his form comes into view you can tell he hasn't slept much if anything at all, dark circles prominent under his eyes. He's at least taken a bath, the sullied leathers were now replaced with new ones, the stench of blood not clinging to him anymore. You're wearing some yourself, your old ones as you've been told. Your clothes were ruined and putting them back on would defeat the purpose of the bath you took earlier, but it feels weird to wear a version of what you always see Azriel and his family in. He takes notice of this as well, hazel eyes raking over your form, lingering around your waist long enough for you to start feeling self conscious, standing up and taking a step closer to him almost involuntarily.

“Is anything wrong? I thought you left them for me to wear.” Since he had given you the leathers along with your old belongings you had assumed you were allowed to wear them, but, at this point, these clothes were more his than yours. Maybe he was scared you'd ruin them and he'd lose his memories of you.

“No, that's not it. They're yours,” he assures quickly, eyes widening slightly before a conflicted expression takes over his face. “The buckles are done wrong,” his observation makes you look down at yourself, there were more straps and buckles than necessary for any piece of garment and you'd taken a bit longer to figure it out than you cared to admit, apparently you should have taken even longer.

Your fingers reach for the straps around your waist, tugging at the leather before he continues, “I can help you with them. They can be hard to put on if you're not used to it.” When you look up from the confusing clothes and your eyes move to meet his, you find him watching your hands hesitantly, his own flexing at his sides. You end up agreeing without even thinking it through, something you almost regret when he walks closer to you and suddenly all you can see and smell is Azriel.

He looks into your eyes before reaching out to the buckles around your waist slowly, giving you a chance to push him away, almost expecting you to. You drop your hands at your sides awkwardly, not knowing what to do with them or yourself when he starts working on your leathers. Expert fingers undo the buckle before pulling on the straps, unexpectedly tightening your armor in the process which pulls a startled gasp out of you. His hands move to grab your waist, surprised by your reaction. Wide hazel eyes meet yours at the sound, a heat spreading within them the longer he holds your gaze, hands frozen around your waist.

All your senses are overwhelmed with him so close, staring down at you like that. The only thing you can think of is the kiss you shared a few nights ago, your entire body begging to repeat the action as he looks down at you with the same passionate look he had worn then. He seems to be reminded of the same, perhaps of similar moments from your previous life, even more scandalous ones surely.

Thankfully, some of your common sense finds you before you could do something stupid like pull him down to you and taste him again, the thought making you look away from him and clear your throat, hoping he breaks from the spell and lets you pretend it didn't happen. This prompts him to keep buckling the leathers, with an urgency he didn't have before, and you look down with him, following his movements even though your mind isn't actually registering any of them as you try to calm your breathing and not think of the way his hands feel around your waist. You'll likely need his help fastening everything tomorrow as well.

“These are meant to cross so the leathers are molded to your body and there are no openings,” he tries to explain as he finishes and moves back, but you can tell he's as affected by your little moment as you were.

You nod at him, “There were a lot of straps, I wasn't sure which ones belonged where. Some of them don't even look like they have a purpose,” you finish as you play with the straps around your wrists, the ones you really couldn't figure out.

“Those are for your gloves,” he explains, a somewhat endeared look crossing his face. “I didn't think you'd need them but you can put them on. Though I'm not sure how they will behave with your powers now.”

“Did I not have these powers before?” You hadn't thought of the possibility but if the spell could erase your memories maybe Norris could have found a way to give or take powers. Just the thought of it brings a chill down your spine.

“You did, but you've gotten a lot stronger,” there was a hint of pride in his words, though the somber meaning hung between you. No matter how hard you practiced and how well they could have trained you here, the results wouldn't be as fast or maybe as clean as the ones resulting from the guild's harsh training. The guild had no problem pushing you past your limits, you either adapted and got stronger or you'd die and be replaced. You suppose you never had to use your powers to torture people before either.

“When this all ends we could spar together,” you sound hesitant even to your own ears, “Maybe I'm even stronger than you by now.” You haven't talked about what will happen after all of this, you can't know for sure what you'll want to do when you recover your memories. You also keenly aware you had just been telling yourself you wouldn't make it easy on him, but ended up seconds away from kissing him and inviting him to spar with you as soon as you saw him.

“I'd like that,” he nods, a reddish tint rushing to his ears. He makes it unbearably hard to even remember why you were upset with him in the first place. It takes everything in you not to lean into his genuineness and forget it ever happened. You bite your lip and give him a small nod of your own, “Are you ready then? We should go.”

“I wanted to talk to you before we left,” his voice takes on a serious tone, regret peeking through every word.

“Maybe this is not the right time. They're probably waiting for us,” you offered, not really sure how to go about having this conversation after what had just happened, even if the curiosity was killing you. It was clear you couldn't keep a level head when it came to Azriel.

“No, I can't…” he cuts himself off, closing his eyes and letting out a sigh, a heavy sound coming from deep in his chest as if he’s been pushing it down for a long time. He looks scared somehow, his wings pulling in tighter to his body and his shadows crawling up his shoulders as if comforting, or even encouraging him. You let him find his composure, find the right words to explain the situation. This feels bigger than a silly argument when adrenaline was pumping through both your veins and that gnawing feeling in your chest comes back, getting stronger with every breath, making you think this might be something he's carried on from the time you were still married.

Azriel opens his eyes after a few moments, the emotions swirling in them enough to make you breathless, and reaches his hand out to yours, waiting for you to accept it and then squeezing it tight as if he needs the reminder that you're real.

“I need you to know I wasn't trying to keep any secrets from you or order you around as you said,” he starts lowly, shiny hazel eyes alternating between watching your hands clasped together and staring deep into your eyes, “We've had this conversation many times before. I know you don't remember but I need you to know I never meant to make you think I want to have any sort of power over you.” He brings your hand up to his chest then, spreading your palm right over his beating heart as he continues, eyes never straying from yours, “I know you can handle yourself, and I know you want to be there when Norris tells you everything. I wasn't trying to keep you away from the dungeon because I didn't think you could handle it.”

“Then why?” Your voice is but a whisper, not wanting to disturb the vulnerable moment.

“I never let you see me down there before, know the monster I have to become. You tried, many times, but I never allowed it. I've always been too afraid of what your reaction would be,” he presses his hand down on yours a little harder as his heart beat picks up, “It would kill me if you were ever scared of me, if you couldn't love me anymore after learning who I am. I was so scared of losing you. Scared that you would ever look at me with fear in your eyes instead of love.”

You let your gaze fall to the way he presses his and your hand to his chest, letting his heartbeat lead yours. It takes a moment for you to process his admission. From what he told you before you thought you had been open with each other throughout your marriage, but it seems there were parts of him he kept hidden even from you, especially from you.

Moments like these always leave you in a weird position. You can't speak for the old version of you, as much as you want to believe that you wouldn't leave him, would never feel scared of him, when your love for him transcended your memories as if it was written down into your bones, the truth is you don't remember her at all. Maybe she would have been scared, maybe his worries hadn't been completely unwarranted then. The thought leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

You turn your hand around, your palm no longer pressed against his chest in favor of holding onto his hand, your other hand joining in as you massage the rough skin and let them fall between you two, needing something familiar to ground yourself while you think of what to say. You twist his wedding ring around his finger once, closing your eyes at the tremble that runs through him at the motion, the way even his wings droop to the floor. The fact that he lets you touch him like this makes things so much harder sometimes.

“I've seen a lot of monsters. You're not one of them, Azriel. Far from it,” you start carefully, “and… I'm not sure how I was like before, if seeing you down there would have really been too much for me to handle but if I truly loved you like I think I did, then I know it wouldn't have mattered. There's nothing about you I see as unlovable.”

“Loved,” a broken mumble between you, not a question. This makes you look up at him. You want to deny it, tell him you still love him, but you can't make sense of the feelings inside you, can't say for sure what will happen to them when you regain your memories. Most of all, you don't want to hurt him, give him hope when he already lost so much, when you already hurt him so much.

You drop his hand, taking a small step back. “I'm not the same person you used to know, and recovering my memories might not bring her back either. Most of what's left is just my body.”

“It doesn't matter,” he says so matter-of-factly it almost makes you want to believe him.

“Azriel-”

“No,” he brings both of his hands to hold onto your face gently, giving you no option but to look into his eyes, “I love you. That didn't change when you died or over the century that followed, when I didn't think I would ever see you again. It didn't change when I saw you in the townhouse or even when you stabbed me. And it won't change whether you get your memories back or not, if you choose to stay or not.”

“I don't love you,” the words stumble out desperately, tears gathering in your eyes, “I don't even remember you, Azriel.”

“That doesn't change it either,” he smiles, thumb caressing your cheek softly. You know he means it then, know there's no way to change his mind even if for his own good. You can only pray to the Mother that your memories don't give you any unpleasant surprises. You're trying so hard to keep his heart safe, why must he keep offering to rip it out of his chest for you?

His expression changes abruptly as you're lost in thought and soon after you feel a presence in your mind before Rhysand's voice comes through. I hope I'm not interrupting anything. Azriel's hands drop from your face then, a scowl overcoming his features. You can only imagine the words he's throwing at his brother in his mind, but Rhysand's voice returns, noticeably more amused, Our break is over. It's time to meet them back at the dungeon. I take it you'll fly our captive back? The answering growl that comes from the shadowsinger actually makes you hide a chuckle behind your hand. His gaze softening once again when he notices the gesture.

Despite the timing and the way he insisted on addressing you as “captive” to rile Azriel up, you could actually thank Rhysand for breaking you away from the moment. He's right, you've rested more than enough and it's now time to go back and finish what you started. You only have the luxury of dealing with your marriage after Norris is gone and you could actually remember your husband.

The flight to the dungeon is a lot easier this time as your prior annoyance was replaced with strangely welcomed awkwardness and a tinge of bashfulness. As much as you tried to deny it, you can't pretend Azriel's admission hadn't made your heart want to leap out of your chest. You don't think anyone could have remained impartial to such a confession, especially coming from a male like Azriel, but as soon as you step into the dungeon, you feel yourself morph back into the cold assassin. You could even feel Azriel's mask fall over his face as well, ready to resume what you'd started before.

This same routine is repeated for a few days, slowly but surely wearing the formidable assassin down. It wouldn't be long until Rhysand or Feyre could read through his mind completely even if he didn't willingly tell you anything. This sentiment was felt among all of you, it's like you could all taste how close he was to breaking.

You came back from one of your mandatory breaks to see Cassian leaning by the cell door, arms crossed over his chest, glaring at your prisoner as Amren stood in the middle of the cell covered in blood, a wicked grin on her face as Norris looked the most unsettled you'd ever seen him. She was told to hold back in the first days but since Norris insists on resisting, Rhysand had allowed her to toy with him. You truly hope you never cross her, just the thought of the things she could do makes every hair on your body stand.

Everyone stays in the room this time, knowing it's only a matter of time. Azriel takes over once more, every slash of his knife meant to give Norris unimaginable pain, completely focused on making the short remaining of his life as miserable as he can.

The difference between the male who had confessed his undying love to you, held your hand as if you were the most precious thing in this world, and the one expertly carving out your former handler's body was almost unbelievable. Azriel's face showed nothing but anger, and even then you knew it wasn't even a quarter of the seething fury burning inside of him. This wasn't your doting husband, this was the Spymaster.

You feel Rhysand's dramatic show of power before you see him walk into the cell, hands in pockets as if he was walking into his kitchen instead of a seedy dungeon reeking of blood and sweat. He passes by you and joins Azriel in tormenting Norris, letting sharp black talons run across the mental walls he's been so desperate to maintain. The smirk on his mate's face, who leans against the table calmly by your side, tells you they might even be teaming up on him.

Fatigue was starting to eat away at everyone the longer you spent inside the windowless cell, but, as Norris smirks lessened and his bared teeth stopped being enough to hide the obvious grunts of pain, his skin paling considerably as his blood pooled at his feet, it was clear that you were on the right track, only needed to keep pushing.

Your handler had started answering more questions too, if only to keep you distracted and away from any blades long enough. It's hard to believe that the male you've been frightened of for a century is the same one chained in front of you. If it weren't for the stubbornness and the pride he's managed to keep somehow, you wouldn't have believed it at all.

“This whole mission was a gamble. We couldn't know for sure if they'd written you off their wards even if they thought you were dead. When you walked in so easily I thought it would be a piece of cake from there. Seems I was wrong.” You had guessed as much. At the time, being sent to an unknown place on such short notice seemed strange and sloppy for how usually crafted the guild's plans were, but knowing what you do now, it makes sense. Not only were you written into the wards as he said, but if it hadn't been for the strange nostalgic feelings inside you, Azriel would have let you escape, you would have even killed him to do so.

“The spell should have sealed your memories and feelings tight,” Norris continues as if sensing your thoughts, “I'm not sure what is trying so hard to claw its way out from behind those walls.” He tilts his head to the side and pauses as if he found the answer and that self-assured smirk reappears on his lips. The sight makes your skin crawl, your powers reacting with you and sending an icy chill into the room. Temperature dropping as his smirk only widens even more and Azriel looks at you with a worried expression before catching himself. “Maybe I just messed up the spell,” he dismisses.

“What do you mean?”

“It is a tricky spell,” he shrugs nonchalantly, knowing that's not what you asked. Azriel moves before you, Truth Teller slashing across his skin for the millionth time, but Norris seems intent on keeping at least this last piece of information to himself. There's more to this, you know there is, but the interrogation moves on to matters of the guild. Rhysand is still worried that they will come for you now that you've deserted, and that they will bring harm to his beloved court.

Within the next few hours, Norris' healing stops being able to keep up with his injuries, even his voice losing strength. It seems like he was focusing the remaining of his energy on keeping his mental walls safe, but it's not long until you see Rhysand's smirk grow, a satisfied wicked thing on his face.

You watch as Norris' head goes limp, unfocused eyes dropping to the ground as the High Lord searches through his mind, probably making it as unpleasant as he possibly can. Your heart starts beating faster in your chest, anxiety building up at the thought that this could have all been for nothing, that Norris might not have the answer after all. You feel a hand on your shoulder but don't even have the mind to look back and check who is trying to comfort you.

When he finally steps back, he simply gives you a nod and a breath of relief escapes you as you stare back into Norris' eyes. You watch Azriel and Rhysand share a look in the corner of your eye, never daring to look away from Norris' defeated face. Within moments everyone starts clearing out of the cell in silence, leaving you and your shadowsinger standing over the prisoner.

It's only when Azriel's hand reaches for yours, tugging on it to get your attention that you look away. His eyes don't give away much and he doesn't say the words, but as he places Truth Teller in the palm of your hand, you know exactly what he means. He nods at you once and drops your hand, taking a step back and giving you space.

You look down at the dagger in your hands, the same one you had held to wound the male who now handed it to you, the one you'll now use to set yourself free. Describing the feeling running through your body is impossible, you always thought you'd die in the guild, as an assassin. Never even dared to think you could be more, never thought it would be possible to get out alive and find a life for yourself. You thought you'd be scared at the prospect but you can only feel excitement and relief.

Not wanting to waste any more time, you walk to Norris and pull on his hair to lift your face to his, so he can see all the hate and anger in your gaze before you stab the knife through his right eye slowly, making sure to get it through his brain, deep enough that no amount of healing or any trick he might have had up his sleeve would be able to save him, and twisting it around. You don't move for a few moments, listening for his heartbeat and paying attention to the blood seeping out of the wound. It's only when you're sure he's dead, that his heart is completely quiet and enough blood has poured out, that you pull the knife out with a squelching sound, flicking it down to get rid of most of the blood and any pieces of flesh stuck to it.

You hesitate for a moment before turning back, meeting Azriel's eyes. As much as you'd told him there was no need for him to worry of your opinion of him changing after witnessing what he did to Norris, of ever being afraid of him, you had hypocritically been scared of letting him see you like this, of seeing the cold blooded killer you had become, so far detached from the wife in his memories.

All your worries are proven baseless however. The only thing you can distinguish in his eyes is relief, at having the answer to getting your memories back and having the person responsible for your pain killed. You can't help the smile growing on your face, not caring for how it must look against the blood covering most of your body, and wrap your arms around Azriel's neck, pulling him down into a hug as a sigh of relief escapes you, tears rising to your eyes and flowing down your cheeks. His arms come around you immediately, tightening his grip on you and burying his face in your neck, tears of his own wetting your skin.

You're finally free.

taglist: @thisblogisaboutabook @chessebookgirl @going-through-shit @starcrossedsan @macimads @janebirkln @dr4g0ngirl @harrystyles2686 @tothestarsandwhateverend @queensl1234 @lisanna2000 @starryhiraeth @shadowsaz @sakurafrost3-blog @evergreenlark @sisterjuliennes @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @historygeekqueen @writingcroissant @abysshaven @pablopascal @that-girl-reading @naturakaashi @tenshis-cake @sharknutz @isa1b2h3 @thehighlordishere @tarathia @sfhsgrad-blog @acourtofbatboydreams @starsandnightmares @cuethedepession @emryb @mybestfriendmademe @fxckmiup @adharanotfound @b0xerdancer @ervotica @aria-chikage @serendipityx150 @fanboyluvr @rogersbarnesxx @that-one-little-soybean @dream-alittlebiggerdarling @saltedcoffeescotch @astarlitsoul @just-a-social-casualty-1 @sundayysunshine

#azriel x reader #azriel x you #azriel x y/n #azriel acotar #azriel fic #azriel shadowsinger #acotar fanfiction #acotar x reader #azriel angst

[irisintheafterglow]

No Prey, No Pay (opla!zoro x you)

summary: after steering him to a successful bounty, zoro can't stop thinking about you. he decides to do something about it. (Part 2 to Parley)

wc: 1.67k

cw/tags: domestic zoro crumbs, idiots in love but they don't know how to express it, canon-typical violence, zoro is so himbo i love him

note: thank you for all the love on my first two zoro posts!!!! i'm so so so happy y'all liked them; this is one of the first times in a while i've actually been super giddy writing a character. i really hope he's not too ooc, i tried to keep his himbo-ness intact. hope you enjoy!!!

likes, comments, and reblogs are always appreciated <3

“Here to try killing me again?”

“Oh,” is all he can sputter out, frozen on the doorstep of the Lady’s manor. The stout, shriveled old woman before him was not who he was looking for. To make matters worse, the flower he’d picked from the hillside on his way up the driveway suddenly seemed like a gargantuan beanstock in his fingers. His face was warming but, for the life of him, he could not figure out why. “You’re not–”

“Nope. They’re in the Farmers’ Market,” she deadpans without hesitation, eyeing him with all the amusement of a PhD candidate reading a children’s book. “The Farmers’ Market I created, by the way.” 

“Right,” he replies shortly, turning abruptly on his heel and letting his eyes widen in pure horror when she can’t see his face. He tosses the flower into a nearby planter, well aware that she can still see his every move. After several misguided attempts to navigate back to your isolated piece of land in the East Blue, he approached the ornately decorated door with a little more excitement than he expected. Having the Lady whom he’d tried to kill a few weeks prior be the one to open the door was another funny twist of irony that caused him an odd feeling of embarrassment, like he’d dropped you off after a date ten minutes past your curfew. “Thank you for your time.” 

“Tell me, pirate hunter,” she called to his back patronizingly. “Why grace us again with your oh-so-menacing presence?” 

“I’m wondering the exact same thing,” he mutters, irritated at his failed attempt to find you on the first try. 

“When you find them, tell them to pick up more sweet potatoes. I thought we had enough for dinner, but we could use a few more now that you’re here,” the Lady instructs him and her words take a few seconds to register in his mind. But, by the time he’s turned around to ask her what she meant, the door is already shut and he’s too proud to knock again. 

As if the mortification on your porch wasn’t enough, it’s nearly impossible to find you in the milling swarms of people in town. The people part naturally for him as he passes, sneaking anxious glances at the three swords on his hip. Whispers of his occupation and intentions float around his ears but he pays them no mind, determined to spot you. Again, he wasn’t sure what he was doing there in the first place; but, no matter what anyone else said, he did know one thing. By some unexpected turn of Fate, he missed you. 

“Shopping for produce while you hunt? I didn’t know you could multitask.” The teasing lilt of your voice appears behind him and he can’t help smirking. You’d found him before he found you, even though it was his job to find people. “Word to the wise: the vendors will upcharge you because they know you’re not from the island.” 

“What if you’re there with me?” When he finally turns to face you, his eyes flick to the canvas bag slung over your shoulder. It’s stuffed with fruits and vegetables, along with a jar of honey from the beekeeper just up the road from your house. 

“They’ll upcharge you more and insist you pay for my stuff,” you reply nonchalantly. “Now that I think of it, maybe we should walk around together.” You brush past him and re-enter the bustling square like he was the last thing on your mind, when really he was the only thing for the past week. You’re certain he’d follow behind you and your theory is confirmed when his voice comes from over your right shoulder. “It’s good to see you.”

“You’re wearing the bracelet,” he observes, easily slipping into place next to you as if it was natural to be by your side. With the sword-clad bounty hunter next to you, it was much easier to navigate the market without bumping every resident of the island. 

“Mhmm, I told you I liked it,” you say absentmindedly, stopping at a stand and picking up a vibrantly colored fruit from the stack. Observing it for bruises and finding none, you signal the seller that you’d like to buy the piece in your hand. His farm-worn hand stretches out to you and you fish around in your bag briefly for coins. But, before you can place the money in his hand, Zoro’s fingers are already dropping an unnecessarily large quantity into the shocked farmer’s palm. You gape at him and his unchangingly blank expression, shaking your head in disbelief when he glances at you, eyes shining arrogantly. “Where’d you get all that money and why did you do that?” 

“Bounties,” he answers plainly, “and ‘cause I wanted to. Next stand?” You’re still slightly frozen from pure surprise, but he shrugs carefreely and tilts his head toward the rest of the vendors.

“Feel like enlightening me on why you’re here again?” It’s the fourth or fifth stand he’s accompanied you to and, at this point, you were just window-shopping. Since he joined you on your errand, you hadn’t spent any more money; before you could pay any of the sellers, they were already thanking you profusely for your generosity with a pile of shining coins in their hands. Zoro proved to be a very patient companion, respectfully giving his opinions on which piece of produce looked bigger or more appetizing. With most of the required items on your shopping list successfully in your bag, you find yourself drifting over to the stalls of mundane things like pretty flowers and colorful crystals. 

“There’s a Marine defector turned intelligence smuggler hiding somewhere in the area. Thought I’d knock out two birds with one stone.” You turn over a piece of aventurine in your fingers, admiring it from different angles in the sunlight. Your breath hitches slightly when Zoro’s face dips down next to yours, watching the crystal from the same angle. 

“What’s the other bird?” You glance at him from the corner of your eye. 

“Visiting you,” he replies without hesitation, plucking the crystal from your fingers and tossing more coins at the vendor. You don’t stop the laugh that escapes your mouth and you swear his smirk gets more self-assured as he drops the rock into your bag. At a point when you aren’t looking, he swings your bag onto a broad shoulder as easily as if it was a piece of paper. “Also, we need sweet potatoes.” Your eyebrows raise in amusement at his slip. 

“We?” You have to fight down another giggle when his face becomes slightly pinker, imperceptible if you weren’t already staring at him. “Since when were we anything?”

“Your boss said she needed more sweet potatoes. Don’t shoot the messenger.” 

“I wasn’t aware that you went to go see her.”

“I wasn’t either, and then she opened the door instead of you,” he admits and you chuckle at his expression of distaste. “If it were up to me, I wouldn’t have–get behind me.” Before he can finish his thought, his arm shoots out in front of you, effectively halting you a split second before a knife darts across your vision, embedding itself into the wooden post next to you. The surrounding market-goers break into chaotic panic and you have no choice but to press your back against Zoro’s to prevent getting swept away. Emerging from the crowd, a lethal-looking group of fighters encircle you two and your hand finds the hilt of your saber. 

“Pirates?”

“No. Bounty hunters.”

“Friends of yours?” You eye the group warily as the marketplace empties, people running into the nearest building they could find to spectate the upcoming battle. 

“I’d call them ‘occupational competition’ on a good day.”

“Ah, great,” you huff sarcastically. “What’d you do to piss them off?”

“Exist,” he deadpans and you hum in assent. 

“Yeah, that’ll do it,” you mutter and you start to pull your blade from its sheath, anticipating the fight ahead of you.

“Don’t.” The single word halts your movements and your stomach drops in fear of what he’s sensing.

“What?”

“Let me handle this,” he says in a low tone that makes your skin break into goosebumps. “Can you hold the bag while I deal with them?”

“You sure?”

“Yep. This won’t take long,” he says irritatedly, scowling at the rival hunters that interrupted his day.

“Alright. I’m gonna go get sweet potatoes, then.”

“Third one down on the left. I’ll meet you over there,” he promises before moving faster than you can comprehend, whirling and downing the two attackers in front of you without even drawing his swords. They howl in pain when you stab your blade into their feet for good measure before leisurely making your way further down the street. As you walk, Zoro clears the path for you, mercilessly incapacitating every enemy with ease. By the time you find the sweet potato stall, there’s only one persistent fighter still giving the swordsman problems. You don’t feel any ounce of fear, however, as you pick through the salvageable gourds while the clashing of swords rings out behind you. Eventually, the street quiets and Zoro returns to your side as if nothing happened at all. “Good?”

“I’m fine,” you say truthfully, running your thumb over the bruise of an otherwise good potato. “You think this one’s still okay?” After peering at it and deeming it safe, he nods.  

“Yeah, it should be fine. If anything, you can just cut off the ugly spot.” There’s a splattering of red just under his eye when you meet his gaze. Your fingers unconsciously come up to wipe the speck of blood from his cheek and his skin feels just as electric as the first time you touched him. 

“Cool. I’m done shopping then, so we can go back home.”

“We?”

“You’re staying for dinner. It isn’t a request,” you command lightheartedly and smile when his steps fall into line next to yours. 

“Mmm, I can’t wait.”

if you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, you can buy me a coffee on my ko-fi! you can also check out my full masterlist here :)

#zoro x you #zoro x reader #zoro x y/n #roronoa zoro x you #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x y/n #opla!zoro x you #opla!zoro x y/n #opla!zoro x reader #opla x you #opla x reader #opla x y/n

[kartificialdreams]

Doctor

Honestly, I didn’t even know how I ended up in this position. One minute I’m being reprimanded by my doctor about how I need to stop stressing my heart out. The next we’re sharing a heated kiss, sitting on his desk, fingers locked in his hair and hoping it doesn’t end.

He starts kissing down my neck, his hands gliding up and down my waist. I press myself further into him, not wanting any space between us.

“This probably isn’t helping to relaxing your heart.” I hear him mumble, his voice vibrating through my neck and a chill runs through me.

“Why don’t we check doctor?”

My fingers clumsily patting around to find his stethoscope. Instead of handing it to him I place then in his ears and hold it to my heart.

“Mm, just as I thought, an accelerated heartbeat. Should we calm it?” He smirks.

Whether he’s joking or not I don’t want to. Not when everything I want is right in front of me. Especially not when after all these years everything I’ve held back is spilling out. I whisper a quick ‘no’ before connecting our lips again.

“We have to be quick, I have a surgery in 30 minutes. Shouldn’t be a problem, I am quite skilled.” He smirks as he quickly pulls my skirt up, panties moved to the side.

I help free him from his belt, finally getting to what I want the most. Finally seeing his dick, I moan at the thought of it filling me up. Guess it’s true what they say, it’s always the tall quiet ones. He aligns himself with me, a groan leaving him.

“Zayne, please. Don’t tease, not now.” I whine, kissing his neck.

“I got you, just be patient my love.” The term of endearment does more to me than I’m willing to let on.

Finally, the sensation of being filled floods my senses. Immediately I roll my eyes back, falling back on his desk as he slowly thrusts.

“Fuck, Zayne. Feels so good.”

I feel his hand wrap around my throat, pulling me back to him.

“I want you as close as possible.”

His thrust pick up speed, I squeeze around him causing a soft ‘fuck’ to fall from him. His string hands hold me in place as I unbutton his shirt, and start kissing his chest. His hand moves further down, thumb catching my clit and slowly moves in a ‘Z’ motion. Pants and groans can be heard through the room, though I guess it’s a good thing his walls aren’t thin.

“Fuck you’re a dream, never thought I’d see the day I get to fuck you.” He kisses me, a somewhat messy and passionate kiss. “Do you know how many times I thought about you, about this exact fantasy? I’ve craved you for so long.”

His words send pleasure coursing through my being. I latch on to him tighter, my release vastly approaching.

“I do, I’ve had the same thoughts. All the times we spent together. Only you.”

He groans, “say it again, that it’s only me.”

“Only you, Zayne, always you.” My pants now turning into desperate whines as I feel my orgasm ready to burst.

“Gonna cum, you’re squeezing me so nicely, let it out. Give it to me.” He kisses me, mouth shutting any loud cries up.

I cum, biting his lip as I do. A few more thrusts and Zayne empties himself in me, groans leaving him. His beautiful eyes stare lovingly into mine. He kisses me passionately, his hands cradling my face as he does. Cloud 9 doesn’t begin to describe how I feel.

“Doctor? Your patient is prepped and ready when you are!” Comes a nurses voice.

“I’ll be there shortly.”

Zayne pulls out, whines leaving us as he does so. He starts to dress himself in new clothes.

“I have to go now but wait for me at your place. I’ll make dinner, most importantly…” he leans down to my ear, “I’ll show you just how loudly I can make you scream my name.”

Those words reignite the fire inside me.

“I’ll hold you to it, Doctor.”

#love and deepspace #lads #zayne love and deepspace #zayne smut #love & deepspace #lads zayne #zayne x reader #zayne x you #zayne #lnd zayne #l&ds zayne #dr zayne

[juuuulez]

📰 | richie jerimovich x reader ; “Princess.”

🎧 -> untitled 07, kendrick lamar

info: Richie Jerimovich x Reader, no use of (y/n), reader’s nickname is princess because duh it’s cute, mention of drugs, arguing, brief mention of Mikey, brief mention of a sexual relationship, Richie just wants what’s best for you.

summary: Richie is your dealer, and also a pretty good lay. But recently he’s changed his priorities, and tries to change yours, too.

gigantic bear brainrot right now, and i was thinking about that little glimpse of dealer richie annnndd that’s sorta it! don’t like, don’t read, but the overall consensus is about recovering and breaking old habits.

i also happen to have such a soft spot for this man!!!!!! sue me!!!!!!!!!!!!! i literally wrote this in less than an hour i’m insane

Hey. You working?

Richie’s phone goes off, ironically, right when he’s on his break. Every day, he goes outside for a cigarette at the exact same time. And you know that. He knows you know that, and he also knows what you want. Of course he does. It’s always the same thing. He stopped doing this shit for a reason, but you? He’s weak. And probably stupid.

Neither of you even discuss the plan: it’s protocol at this point. Not even seconds pass, and he’s already punched in a response.

Nah. Come see me.

Minutes later, and there are footsteps approaching down the back alley, towards the door Richie lingers near. He turns to see your form approaching, watching the way you tug at the sleeves of your sweater, likely much too thin to truly combat the cold. With how hasty you’d been, Richie suspects you’d already been nearby. Likely around the corner, just waiting for the go ahead.

It’s been a few weeks since he last saw you, though Richie knew why. Because he didn’t do this shit anymore. To reach out again, you must’ve been desperate. He could work with that.

“Princess.” He greets, nursing a lit cigarette between sharp teeth.

You’re sighing, a look of exasperation on that pretty little face. A mix of relief, and discomfort, at being out in this weather. “You’re my saviour, you know that, right?”

Richie scoffs, already approaching. Closing the gap between you two. “Find that one hard to believe.” He mutters.

As usual, you move in to intrude on Richie’s space, tucking yourself against his side. The biting Chicago winter urges you closer, as he’s somehow warm, though Richie is always warm. One hand ashes his cigarette onto the concrete, and the ofher arm wraps around you, hand cupping the ass of your jeans, thumb tracing the pocket seam.

Laying there is a wad of cash, he can feel the outline faintly under the thick fabric. But he doesn’t take it. Nor does he replace it with anything, despite what you’d been expecting, what he’d agreed to. This routine you’d built up, an unspoken process.

You shift away slightly, looking up at the taller man with furrowed brows. His hand shifts higher, finding its place against your side, holding onto your hip.

“What gives?” You ask, trying to decipher that unreadable look on Richie’s face. For a man so expressive, you were lost on an interpretation in this moment. He wouldn’t even look at you, squinting at some unknown spot in the alley.

Then his head starts shaking, a disapproving look forming, before the words follow. “Sure you don’t want some dope instead?”

“If I wanted dope, I would have asked for it.” You retort. The words were sharp with intent, slightly irritated.

Richie tries harder to convince you, finding that would be easier than outright admitting his concern. “Come on. You haven’t thought about making the switch?” He muses as if it were obvious, taking a long drag from his cigarette. That hand is still on your side.

You roll your eyes. “To what? Being miserable and a fucking downer?”

“No.” Richie rolls his eyes. “To going, I dunno.. natural, or whatever.”

This gets no response, and Richie finally glances down at you. You look confused, but mostly pissed. Definitely some form of agitated.

“Weed and shrooms.” He clarifies with a shrug.

“Are you serious?” You’re snapping at him, finally stepping back a little, out of his hold. “As if you even have shrooms.”

“I could get them if you wanted. Gotta be better than that other shit.”

“Fuck! You’ve gotta be the world’s worst dealer.” You utter, running a hand through your hair and looking off into the distance.

Before he can get a word in, you begin venting, letting that frustration bubble up. “Y’know, if I wanted a lecture, I’d call my parents. But you, Richie?”

So, he snaps back. Like he always does. After all, fighting is miles easier than having an actual discussion. “I dunno, princess, this ain’t fuckin’ right! I can’t do this shit to you.”

“It’s coke, Richie! Not heroin. I’ll be fine.” You urge.

He shakes his head, voice only rising with his temper, a tone most are accustomed to. “You know that’s not the fucking point.” The words have anger in them, laced with bite, intent.

And for some reason.. some, god forsaken reason, you let up.

Maybe you knew this would happen. Maybe you had the smallest, tiniest inkling that coming to Richie, of all people, was a bad idea. You knew he’d stopped dealing, for the most part. But you couldn’t blame him, not after everything that happened with Mikey. It’s not like you didn’t know him, too, but it was different.

So, you relent, pressing a hand over the crease of your brows. “Okay, okay. Just..” You can’t get out a full sentence, mind reeling with about twenty thoughts at once. The most prominent notion: you certainly weren’t getting your coke today. Not from Richie. And, frankly, you didn’t trust anyone else.

He looks down at your dejected form, jaw clenched with tension. Richie didn’t like being the bearer of bad news, by any means, and felt a pang of sympathy. In an ideal world, he’d give you anything and everything you wanted.

In an ideal world, you wouldn’t be asking.

“What’ya need it for, anyway?” He ends up inquiring, tone a tad softer, now that the hostility has simmered.

You shrug, kicking around a rock. “House party.”

Richie nods, getting a vague idea of what was happening. It was for later. That was good.

“Then how ‘bout.. you come over to mine,” He suggested, “We smoke up instead.”

It wasn’t an unfamiliar request, but any means. You’d spent many nights in his apartment. It was lonely and derelict, as most days, he didn’t have his daughter around. Sometimes things escalated. By all means, Richie was certainly a good fuck, if anything. But you were messy, complicated, not someone that stuck around for long. Richie understood that, as he wasn’t looking to settle down, either. Not with someone like you. At least, that’s what he told himself.

“Already bought the beer, Rich.” You justify, giving a minor resistance towards the idea.

Of course, he has a solution for everything. “Bring it.”

You nod along, the slightest of smirks appearing on those plump lips. It was clear as day, a physical indicator that you were fucking weak for anything he suggested. “So you’re denying me product, and you’re gonna drink my beer?”

“Yeah, but the weed is free.” Richie offered, a grin beginning to form, purely because he was getting what he wanted.

There’s a low whistle, sucking the air from between your teeth. It’s cold out, and you’d rather get home, given this was supposed to be a quick pick-up. The thought of spending a night over at a Richie’s place was incredibly tempting, given you hadn’t seen him much lately. He’d been pulling away, which was understandable. You weren’t exactly the healthiest to be around.

“M’kay, weirdo.” You agree, looking away to avoid spotting how purely happy that makes Richie. Deep down, you know he’s genuinely pleased with himself, not just for getting you to come over, but to abandon the drug altogether, even if just for a night. He’s fixing you, making you a better person, which you really fucking hate.

He throws the cigarette to the ground, stomping on its ashy remains. “See? What a good fuckin’ girl you can be. Just gotta use that pretty little head more.”

To emphasise his point, Richie cups the top of your head, fingers disrupting the part of your hair. His hands are huge, for the most part, covering the expanse of your skull. It prompts you to swat it away with a displeased grunt.

“Don’t push it, asshole.” You warn, already trying to fix your hair. Before he can cause any more damage, you’re turning on your heel, eager to escape the cold.

“10pm. Don’t be late, princess.” Richie calls out to your retreating form, watching the semi-enthusiastic thumbs up you flash him in return.

Feeling pretty goddamn successful, he gets back to work.

#me when i neglect all my current wip’s because i desperately needed to write about richie #richie jerimovich #richie jerimovich x reader #richie jerimovich x you #the bear #the bear fx #the bear x you

[moonlightdreamzz]

kill bill

part one

you return back to korea one year after you and hyunjin broke up, only to find out he has replaced you. how could he replace you?

→ g: all of it. the pain, the sexy, the happiness. angstsmutfluff! <3

🎧 ➤ kill bill by sza

warning! you’re a heartbroken bitter ex girlfriend here, although for a valid reason. party environment! mentions of (w**d) and alcohol, language, and infidelity!

I'm so mature, I'm so mature

I'm so mature, I got me a therapist to tell me there's other men

I don't want none, I just want you

If I can't have you, no one should

it felt so, so good to scream these lyrics from the pit of your stomach. you imagine anyone that could hear you and felix passionately singing alongside sza had many questions, the first being; who hurt you? but, as always neither of you care in this moment. the two of you have finally finished cleaning up the dorm in preparation for changbin’s surprise birthday party; the only thing left to do now was decorate and get ready.

you have no idea where the rest of the members are, but who are you to ask questions? knowing your friend, he didn’t trust them to get the job done in time. they could be so damn silly sometimes, taking forever to do the simplest tasks. it was adorable watching their sad attempts to hold all their jokes and playful tendencies within. they failed every time.

felix, who is clearly exhausted from your early morning grind can’t help but to back into the wall and slide down to the wooden floors. he takes a deep breath before blowing upwards, causing the hair covering his forehead to lift ever so slightly.

“someone’s tired.” you chuckle, deciding to lay on the couch over the cold wood. you are so tempted to beg felix for a quick nap, but you know he’s gonna ridicule you for it if you do—in a friendly way of course. he has been talking about this party and how perfect it has to be for what felt like forever. you know deep down his real reasoning for being so prompt was because of who’s birthday it is.

“how can I truly be tired though, y/n?” his aussie accent is thick as he confesses his shame to you, “you came all the way here, landed early as hell in the morning with jet lag, and here you are cleaning with me. i need to get up.” just like that, felix has risen again and stretches his arms out before moving to start taking the decorations out the box.

he was always too hard on himself. “lix,” you coo, walking towards him and placing your hand on his shoulder gently, “getting rest is vital. even if for thirty minutes, why don’t you relax for a little bit? at least close your eyes?”

you can tell he’s considering it by the way his eyes look straight ahead into nothingness, but just as quick as the thought comes, it goes. he inhales deeply before continuing to take things from the huge brown box.

“i promise I’ll rest after this is all over. i just…i don’t want anything to mess up on my end.”

so, they really were all the same huh? those words trigger what feels like a thousand memories into your mind— all of someone you know you will have to see tonight. you were certain he has spoken that exact sentence to you on multiple occasions when you expressed how worried you were about his physical and mental health. you still have no idea what you’re going to say when the two of you eventually bump into each-other at this party.

you’re fidgeting now, and felix’s heart feels as if it wants to jump out of him for the day, but not because he was in love with you or anything. no, felix was incredibly guilty. he knows you’re thinking about his bandmate. you were always so…dazed when he was on your mind.

all day there has been this weird silence in the air between you and felix, which was abnormal to say the least. before you moved back home, you were two peas in a pod. your conversations could last for hours if you let it. all of the boys, but especially felix told you that they loved how free they felt around you. they loved how normal they felt in your presence. you didn’t know why it was such a bad thing, but apparently it was a sin here to have some fun.

the minutes keep passing by and felix has yet to utter a word to you. have things really changed this drastically since you left? was he angry at you for leaving? did you not check up on him enough?

“felix i—

“hyunjin has a new girlfriend!” he spits out as if there was a pistol on his scalp. the balloon he was blowing up flies from the machine, squealing as it tries to find a place to land. if there was a metaphor to describe what those words just did to you, it was that. you felt like a lifeless balloon. the tension in the room is so thick you feel like your throat is about to start closing on you.

your clear vision is now red, so much so, that you were certain your tears would be the same color if you weren’t fighting for your life to hold them in your tear ducts. you hate that even after a year, exactly a year by the way, that he still has so much control over your emotions.

“who?” are the only words you can manage.

felix thought that confessing to you would make him feel better, but as he watches you clearly refraining yourself from having a mental breakdown, he feels a thousand times worse. maybe he should have listened to changbin and chris when they told him to just let you see it. no—he was right. if you were going to hate him, he would rather you be able to say he warned you instead of you finding out from seeing hyunjin waltz in here with his new woman.

“some girl. she’s not famous, and I have no idea where he met her. i’m sorry, y/n. i know you’ve been going to therapy and everything and I just—I never wanted to trigger you. it’s still not an excuse I just—

“lix,” you finally breathe after what felt like days, even though it had only been a minute or two. “i’m not angry with you. how could I be?”

“because i’m your friend.”

“you’re his friend too.” is all you can muster. you know a look of defeat was prominent on your features, but you can’t fake it right now. it wasn’t worth it. you’re trying to push it down, but the rage is burning in the pit of your stomach. you looked so sane to the naked eye. upset? sure. pissed? maybe? but you were way more than those two emotions. you were heartbroken and livid all over again; a woman scorned. all you can hear in your mind right now is the last thing hyunjin uttered to you.

i will never be able to replace you. i need you to breathe. i love you. i’m so sorry. i’m sorry I failed you when I promised I never would.

you heard it in your dreams and nightmares what felt like every night. his voice cracked so clearly on the phone that night. he usually tried to be tough for you, pretending as if nothing could get to him, but not this time. he was so hysterical.

you believed him. you didn’t want to, but he was sobbing. or maybe your ego was big as fuck, and the thought of hyunjin unable to move on from you fed into your fantasy of him suffering without you. you hated that you felt this way, but it doesn’t matter now. it was all a lie.

“y/n.” you hear felix trying to snap you back to reality.

there’s a million things you want to say. you want to see her. you want to ask felix if hyunjin is as happy as he was with you. but you figure you’d save those questions for when he had to see you tonight. if he moved on genuinely, fine. but he was going to have to say it to your face.

“I’m cool.” you smile as if you hadn’t heard the news. you begin ripping the plastic off the decorations you assumed went on the wall based on their shape. you can feel felix’s doe eyes burn holes into you, but you learned a long time ago how to ignore that.

“you sure?” he questions in disbelief.

“positive. i just needed a minute to digest it. I’m good.”

the song you and felix had been shouting the lyrics to has replayed, neither you or Felix knowing the lyrics sza was singing beautifully would foreshadow what was to come later tonight.

I did it all for love

I did all of this on no drugs

I did all of this sober

Don't you know I did it all for us?

fit pics; a necessity when going to any function, but especially when you want your ex to feel sick to their stomach.

yes, you are that girl that makes your friends take your pictures over and over again—hating them all. no, you are not ashamed. this was jisung’s fifth round of taking pics of you, and you are trying so hard to hold in your laughter at his frustration. he’s looking at you, and you know he hasn’t blinked or breathed—already knowing that you’re going to tell him you don’t like the twenty new pictures he’s placed in your camera roll.

“if you don’t like these, i don’t know what to tell you. you look mad good. stop acting like that.”

“you’re lucky I’m pleased.” you smirk, pushing him playfully, “this is the least you can do for the many years you’ve spent trolling my ass, or have you forgotten?”

“i don’t know what you’re talking about.” he smirks back. his eyes attempt prove his innocence, but they fail and he can’t help but to push you back to play it off.

the music can be heard from outside of the dorms, and you have no idea how they are pulling this off tonight, but you never ask questions; you simply follow suit. you didn’t intend on missing the surprise, but jisung called you frantically saying that he was going to be late and that he would owe you if you pulled up alongside him. truth be told, you pretended that you were fine with being late because you loved him oh-so much, but in reality you wanted to make an entrance.

you wanted hyunijn to pace back and forth as his new girl got ready—heart practically beating out of his chest at the thought of having to see you. you knew he would arrive in preparation to say surprise! to his bandmate, subtly searching for you everywhere. obviously, you aren’t there, but he won’t know whether you are just in the bathroom, late, or not coming at all.

the time will continue to pass—but still no sign of you. his girl is there, so he won’t express his interest about your whereabouts out loud, but he will text felix wondering where you are. she’s coming, is all felix is going to respond, already receiving the text from you that you were running late to ride with jisung, but not wanting to spill your beans to your ex, regardless of the fact that he was hyunjin’s friend too.

you know his anxiety is going up and down right now. he’s probably not paying ole’ girl any attention because hyunjin knows. he fucking knows that any second now you will walk into that dorm and he’ll have to recall his last words to you. he’ll also have to see how damn fine you look tonight from head to toe. he’ll think of every single late night he tried to replace your body, but couldn’t. you love changbin so much, but he was crazier than you when it came to his lovers. he will understand. you also know he’s probably ten shots in by now, so if he was upset with you, the alcohol had drowned it away.

“come on.” jisung instructs. you’re surprised he’s not snapping in your face like everyone else does when you daze out. it had rained earlier, so the weather is perfect—not cold, but not hot. you and hyunjin love this kind of weather. if the two of you were still together, you’d probably be outside whispering sweet nothings to each-other while smoking a blunt and embracing the relaxing breeze that blew through the city.

you follow your friend, taking his hand that was extended out to you. he knows you too well. your anxiety was beginning to build up from the pit of your stomach. it always makes you feel sick and dizzy and you want to turn around and run off, but you can’t. your feet have began to hurt too—your boots although fashionable, never being the move when you were going to be standing for a long time.

“these are some of the trainees that’ll be in the next group.” jisung spills as you approach the entrance. you can’t tell whether they want to be here or not, but you can’t lie, this is adorable.

they greet the both of you respectfully—you, only because you were with their hyung, and the two of you step in promptly. immediately the smell of marijuana clouds your senses, and you can’t help but let out a cough. the music was so loud that you know you will likely have a headache in the morning, but it was worth it. there are people everywhere and they’re all doing the same thing; smoking, taking shots, and trying to find their person for the night.

“look who it is, finally.” a drunk changbin stumbles your way, immediately embracing you and picking you up. he reeks of everything in this room, including women, but you expect nothing less from the man of the hour. he looks nice—a typical all black fit from him. he continues to slur things to you that you can’t understand, but you know it’s something along the lines of “i’m so happy to see you.” and “don’t think you’re running from these shots.”

jisung doesn’t understand what he’s saying either, and the two of you make eye contact before he pats changbin’s back to put you back down in the ground.

“happy birthday!” the two of you yell in unison. ah, you would be lying if you said you didn’t miss him. he was always so sweet to you, and in this moment as you and jisung congratulate him on another year of life, you heart is warm seeing the genuine smile on his face.

“thank you, love.” he slurs once more. “you know, you were always my favorite. my favorite girlfriend that is. smart, gorgeous, and actually fun.” the music seems as if it’s gotten even louder, but you hear him loud and clear.

now you’re the one smiling. “thank you. i got you a lot of gifts, but the rest of them I need you to open sober. here’s one you can have now.” you see jisung’s panic as you hand his bandmate a little bottle of hennessy. you know the second either you two walk away or changbin does, that he’s going to cuss you out for not telling him you brought a gift. “from me and jisung.” you add with a potent smirk on your face. you see him exhale beside you, and here you are again holding in your damn laugh.

“now y/n…you know you have to take a shot with me, right? thank…thank you.” all of a sudden there’s a hand on changbin’s shoulder, and she’s pulling him back towards where the bedrooms are. you make your false promises knowing he won’t even remember you’re here soon.

“you owe me two, han jisung.” you twirl to face him now.

“yeah, whatever. look, as always I’ll look out for you, but I can’t lie it’s time for me to put some shots in my body and find me something to lick on…for later.”

“ew! you’re like…fifteen.”

“i’m literally twenty-two?” he blinks repeatedly.

“whatever. i’m going to the bathroom.”

and you’re off. you see a couple of familiar faces on what should be a short journey to the restroom, but isn’t due to how crowded the this place is. your heart is racing, fearing that you’ll say excuse me to someone, and they’ll turn around just for it to be hyunjin. you planned this out so well in your head, just to be shaking in your boots now…literally. your feet hurt even more then they did ten minutes ago.

you finally make it to the restroom after what feels like forever. you’re afraid to even go in there, terrified about who you may see partaking in adults activities and not wanting to argue with someone who was hogging the room just because they hate parties. you hate those kind of people.

you knock—nothing. you knock again—nothing. you can barely stand now because you genuinely have to pee, and maybe there is someone in there, and they are responding— you just can’t hear them, but fuck it. you open the door quickly, closing it just as fast so a creep doesn’t try to slide in here with you. you’re about to run to the toilet when you notice someone very familiar sitting on the floor with his face buried in his hands. no fucking way. no way.

he looks up at you, his eyes irritated at first from being intruded on. he probably did say someone was in here. but the second he sees you, his eyes widen. it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.

“y/n…y/n?”

you haven’t heard him say your name in a year. you haven’t heard his voice. you don’t know how you’re still standing considering the fact that you’re having a stare down with the love of your life. you know your eyes are softening as you continue to make eye contact with him. he’s still so…beautiful. how was it possible that he has become even more attractive, even with his eyes slightly red. had he been crying?

snap out of it, y/n!

just as quick as all of the memories begin to run through your head, you turn the movie off, pulling down your shorts and panties. “move, hyunjin.” is all you say, quickly sitting down on the toilet and emptying your bladder. he scoots ever so slightly, eyes still burning holes into you even as you pee loudly and your eyes look straight forward now.

this isn’t happening right now, is it?

authors note: part two coming soon…🤝🏽 I wanted to make this one big story but I said … that’s going to take too long to finish hehe. i hope you guys liked this.

© 2023 moonlightdreamzz. no one has permission to steal my work in any way, shape, or form.

#hyunjin imagines #kpop black reader #kpop x black reader #hyunjin imagine #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #hyunjin fluff #stray kids #hyunjin #stray kids x black reader #kpop x poc #kpop x poc reader #skz hyunjin #skz imagines #skz smut #skz angst #skz scenarios #stray kids imagines

[madeintheniamh]

Please can you do one of the girls getting braces because i'm getting mine next week :D

golden girl

stmf one shot #23

good luck, babe. i had 4 years of braces. they're the worst, but you'll be grateful once they're off xx

“I’m not going, Mum,” Tilly shouted at you, her eyebrows furrowed in the exact same way that Harry’s did when he was annoyed about something.

“You can’t keep putting it off, lovey,” you replied. “You were supposed to have them put on a year ago now,”

Her lips were now set in a straight line, and her eyes began to turn glossy as she turned around to march up the stairs back to her bedroom.

“Come on baby, it won’t be that bad,”

You heard her slam her bedroom door behind her. “Leave me alone,”

This hadn’t been the first time you had tried to make Tilly have her braces put on. Every time the day of the appointments came closer, it seemed as though she always had an adequate excuse prepared for why she needed you to reschedule. Exams. Gymnastics competitions. A friend’s birthday. Feeling sick. And every time, Harry always gave in, to your annoyance. So, it had now been a year since she was supposed to have the wretched things put on in the first place, and she was stubborn, just like her Dad- once she made her mind up on something, it was impossible for you to get her to change it- although there was one person who could. You sighed to yourself, before knocking on the door of his office.

He was sat on one of the armchairs in the corner that faced out onto the garden, holding his guitar in his arms and the pick in-between his teeth. He was so focused on what he was doing that it took him a minute to notice you, and he jumped slightly as he looked up and found your gaze.

“Oh my- hey my love, you okay?”

You sat down next to him, exhaling slowly whilst picking at one of your nails.

“Well, Tilly’s booked in to get her braces on later, but she tells me she’s not going,”

He smiled to himself, placing the guitar down on the space next to him. “Oh god,” he moaned sarcastically. “Not this again,”

“I don’t know what to do,” Your voice began to crack slightly. “I’m just trying to help her. I don’t know why she’s so upset about it. She’s just been so snappy with me recently, and I-”

“Let me sort it.” He answered before you could finish. “I’m sure I can persuade her, one way or another,”

“I don’t even think you can, H,” You sighed. “She’s so stubborn, like someone else I know,”

He snorted slightly and rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that,”

He kissed your forehead before left the room, going downstairs to make use of one of his favourite persuasion tactics.

---

Harry knocked on her bedroom door softly.

“Go away, I’m not going,” she moaned.

“I’ve made you a cup of tea,” he smirked whilst turning the handle, opening the door to find Tilly lying under layers of blankets, in a pair of tracksuit bottoms and one of Harry’s old t-shirts. Despite the death stare she gave Harry, she still held her hands out to accept the mug.

He closed the door behind him.

“Dad, I’m not-”

“Okay,” he sighed. “You’re not going, fine.”

“Okay?” Her face lit up. “Really?”

“No,” he laughed. “You need to do this, Til, you’re driving your mum mad, you’re nearly fifteen,”

“I’m not talking to you,” she groaned, covering her head with a blanket. He reached over to grab the mug on her bedside table.

“Okay, well, I’m taking this back then,” he chuckled.

“Nooooo!” she gasped, coming back up from under the covers. “That’s not fair!”

“Why don’t you want to go, Til?” he asked whilst running his hands through her hair, which had now grown down to her hips. “It’s okay to be nervous about it, I know you don’t like the dentist,”

“I’m not!” She pouted her lips. “I just don’t want them,”

“Well, why? Loads of people have to get braces, Til,”

“You never had to have them,” she sulked, her brows now furrowed. “You don’t get it,”

“Well, maybe not, but Mummy had to have them for a little bit, and she was fine,”

“No one has braces when they’re fifteen,” she sighed. “Izzy in my French class had hers off last week, I don’t want to be the last one with them on,”

“Loads of people have braces when they’re older Til, there isn’t an age limit,” he chuckled. “Uncle Niall was 18 when he had his braces put on,”

“Still,” She moaned. “I don’t want them. Everyone says they hurt,”

He peppered a kiss to her forehead. “Maybe they won’t hurt, you never know,”

Her eyes began to turn glossy. “But Daddy, I’m frightened, remember when I had to get my tooth taken out and they used that massive needle, and I fainted, what if that happens again,”

She began to sob softly into his arms.

“I remember Til, you’re going to make me cry, baby,” he whispered into her ear. “But I’m sure that won’t happen today, okay? I’m going to hold your little hand the whole time, and if the dentist comes anywhere near you with a needle, I’ll fight him,” he smiled.

“You will?” she sniffled. “Are you sure it will be fine, Daddy?”

“I’m sure, baby,” he chuckled. “I promise you. Now come on, let’s get dressed,”

----

Tilly sat up slowly in the leather chair, having been lying down for the past 45 minutes, her hand still clasped tightly in Harry’s as it had been the whole time. Her lips were slightly chapped, and she licked them as she pouted at Harry with disdain.

“You’re not going to give me a smile?” Harry sighed, rubbing her tiny knuckles with the tip of his thumb. Tilly shook her head.

“It feels weird,” She stared at him disapprovingly, running her tongue over the new pieces of metal that were now glued to her teeth.

“It’s gunna feel weird, Tilly bug,” He smiled. “Come on, I wanna see them!”

Tilly rolled her eyes, before flashing him a sarcastic grin. “I look awful,”

“Hey,” Harry warned, lifting her chin up softly with his hand. “You know that’s not true,”

“I do,” She moaned, placing her hand over her mouth and running the sleeve of her oversized hoodie across her lips. “And it hurts,”

Harry swooped his hand across her face, tucking back a strand of loose hair that had fallen out of her French plait, before pressing his lips to the top of her forehead. Her lips began to quiver slightly, as her eyes turned a glossy shade of green.

“Shhhh, I know,” He soothed, holding his hand out and beckoning her to follow him. “Come on, let’s get you home, babydoll,”

Tilly hadn’t said anything at all on the car journey home, until Harry had seemingly decided to take an alternative route, now navigating the huge Range Rover down the narrow Hampstead high street, reversing it backwards into a bay on the side of the road.

“Daddy? Where are you-”

He peppered a kiss to her swollen cheek. “You stay here, I’ll be quick,”

10 minutes later, Tilly was practically asleep in the passenger seat, her sunglasses having fallen down on the bridge of her nose, still swamped in her hoodie. She almost jumped at the noise of the car unlocking, and was greeted by Harry grinning wildly at her, pink coloured ice cream dribbling down the side of his wrist. He licked it off slowly, passing the cup to Tilly, who began to smile too.

“You thought I was just gunna drive home without getting you something? Look at that gorgeous little smile,” He grinned.

Tilly looked back up at him, now bringing the spoon to her mouth, still smirking at him with her new metallic smile, her cheeks rosy.

“I love you, Daddy,” She whispered, pushing her sunglasses back up on her nose.

“You know I love you more, golden girl,”

--------------------------------------------------

I HAVE MISSED YOU ALL SO MUCH <3

more to come more to come i have too many wips. but i'll give you this for now, so sorry anon you probs had your braces for a good few weeks now but enjoy anyway hehehh xx

this forms part of my dadrry one shot series! so if you did enjoy i have linked the masterlist here. please give it some love and send in any requests bc i'm in a writing/reading slump at the moment so any requests would be appreciated. love you all hope you are having a good week <3

#harry styles #dadrry #harry styles dad #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #stmf #harry styles imagine

[broshot]

part 1 of gojo satoru confessing to you when you're asleep. this is part 2 (but you're not asleep this time)

stuff: gn!reader, confession, fluff, kissing,

english isn't my first language btw sorry for any mistakes and bad writing

♡♡♡

you wake up in your bed and check the time. it's 11:57am and as you look around, memories from last night start flowing to your head.

you didn't fall asleep in your bed, no, you were on your couch with gojo satoru. he must have carried you to your bed.

you don't have time to think more as gojo walks in your room with a smile on his face carrying a plate with pancakes.

"good morning, did you sleep well? I made you breakfast, I'm pretty proud if I say so myself. don't go into the kitchen, though." he says.

"morning, satoru," you reply. "thanks for the pancakes, I hope you didn't burn the kitchen," he laughs at your words and you continue: "did you carry me to bed last night?"

he nods.

"thank you."

"for carrying you to your bed?"

"for all of this. I mean, I called you at four am and you came over even though it was late. and you got me to fall asleep. thank you."

"of course I'd do that for you," he smiles softly. "anything for my friend."

friend. both of you wish for more.

"uh, I'll go clean the kitchen up?" he says the statement as if he is asking a question and you nod.

he leaves the room, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

gojo is in the same boat. he's repeating last night in his head for the 38th time as you walk in to the kitchen.

"it's not that bad," you say referring to the mess.

"don't look up," he smiles.

but you look up, your mouth flying open as you see a few broken eggs and flour on the ceiling.

"how did you even do that?" you laugh and he shakes his head smiling, saying that he doesn't know.

♡♡♡

you two are on your couch again, gojo is telling you his amazing hero story (how he cleaned the mess he made in the kitchen) as some comedy movie plays from the TV. he is eating some snacks again, taken from your snack drawer.

you're not paying attention to the movie. gojo's smile has all of your attention, his lips look soft and nice, you think.

he catches you looking at his lips, smirking to himself. "do my lips look that kissable, huh?" he teases and you freeze for a moment before rolling your eyes and laughing it off.

now he's swearing at himself. he could've done that so much better. what if he had kissed you instead of making that stupid comment? consent is key, though, he needs to ask for a kiss.

he really wants to kiss you. he's thought about kissing you countless times. in his scenarios he asks and does it smoothly, not nervous at all. but now when he wants to kiss you more than ever, he's more nervous than he's ever been.

he wishes you'd ask him for a kiss. that would save him from the embarrassment he'd have to face if you'd reject his kiss. he'd say yes in a heartbeat, he'd never reject your kisses.

but you don't ask him for a kiss, you're thinking the exact same as he is.

you've been staring at each other for at least five minutes, but neither of you seems to have noticed. or maybe neither of you cares, maybe this is all you've ever wanted.

but after five more minutes, he's had enough. just looking at you isn't enough for him anymore.

so he speaks.

"please," is all he says. you raise your eyebrow at him, tilting your head a little.

he takes a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment to prepare himself. prepare himself for what exactly? maybe rejection, maybe the opposite or something else, he doesn't know.

he opens his mouth to speak again, the confident and playful gojo is nowhere to be seen. this gojo looks rather serious, insecure even.

"may I kiss you?" he asks, his voice small and trembly. you find it adorable.

"please, satoru," you breath out and he feels relieved.

but then again, he has to kiss you now. the scenarios he has imagined are about to become reality if this goes well, he thinks.

he's ready to at least try.

he places his right hand on the back of your neck, pulling you in softly. you're so close to him now, and he's nervous. he moves his hand from your neck to your cheek, caressing it slowly.

you're getting impatient, he sure is taking his sweet time. you don't mind looking at his beautiful face and feeling his thumb caressing your cheek but you really want to kiss him.

"satoru," you whisper. he doesn't say anything.

you feel soft lips pressing on yours, and you close your eyes.

it feels right, it's as if his lips were made for you. he tastes sweet because of the snacks he was eating just a while ago, you notice.

your lips are moving in sync with his, almost as it was a practiced routine. gojo doesn't want to let you go, but both of you are running out of breath.

he presses his forehead against yours, making your noses touch after you break from the kiss.

he wants to thank you, he really does, but he knows better not to. instead he thinks of something better to say.

"I love you a lot, you know. not only as a friend, I'm deeply in love with you, I've always been." he confesses.

you're silent for a while and he starts to get nervous again. what if he misread the situation?

but you speak before his nervousness takes over.

"I did not expect that," you start. "I love you too, been deeply in love with you for ages, too." you smile.

he's relieved. but he does think loving him is a bad idea.

it's you, though, he thinks. with you everything is better.

he pulls you closer to him, wrapping his arms around you.

"thank you." he says.

he really thanks you.

♡♡♡

this is so bad bye

gojo brainrot I love him so much

MASTERLIST

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader fluff #jujutsu kaisen gojo #satoru gojo #gn!reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu gojo #jujutsu kaisen fluff #gojou satoru x reader #gojou satoru x you #gojo x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo x y/n #gojo #gojo sensei #jjk fluff #jjk gojo #jjk x y/n

[torhues]

iwaizumi hajime.

iwaizumi exhales in the palms of his hands. "how long?"

"a month or so, maybe," you look ever so calm, watching people enter and leave the airport, fiddling with your fingers occasionally out of habit. while your actions might look like some sort of obsession with observing people, they're actually subtle attempts to avoid looking at iwaizumi.

"was it hard?" he doesn't sound angry, or disappointed, or sad. it's not pure numbness, but his words aren't intoxicated with emotions either. "thinking about breaking up?"

"i tried not to overthink," you reply, still looking at the people, their luggage, noticing everything that the attendants are doing at the check-in counters. it's hard to keep up with everyone's actions in the multitude.

you've always associated airports with bits of romance. you've seen people break up on airports and kiss their lovers goodbyes until the last boarding calls. airports, according to you, are no different than hospitals. people visit both the places, but you don't know if they're coming back. although, not everyone thinks of airports as a place so gloomy that it stirs your stomach, but you've taught yourself to think that way in the past few months.

you've played it in your head multiple times, how you would break up with iwaizumi. you settled upon doing it last week, but never got a chance. days passed, you felt your chances slipping through the cracks of your hands and suddenly, the words fall off your lips amidst hundred other people waiting for the boarding announcement on the airport.

"hajime, you're not dying and neither am i. you're pursuing your dreams and if the situation calls for us to break up, i'm no one to refuse," while it seems like you're offering him some comfort to cope with the situation, those words are for yourself. you want to believe that he will come back to you, or you will find him again, even if it's after years, after the sweet memories that you share disappear over time; even if it's just one minute before you die, you want to believe you will meet him. after all, those will be the words that will convince you to look forward to every single day that is now going to pass without a glimpse of him.

"you know we don't have to do this," iwaizumi says it as a matter of fact. there's a stern look in his eyes, as if he has known you long enough to know the words that you mean and the ones you don't. sometimes, you think if you've given too much of yourself to him that now, he resembles a faint image of yourself in the mirror. it's like a single soul living in two different bodies, perhaps that's why, it feels like you're losing little pieces of yourself as you watched him prepare to leave for the States.

and so, you mirror the exact same look at him. "we do,"

"what if i fall in love with someone else? what if i come back with a family, a kid?" there's a hint of sorrow behind his hurtful words. thinking about iwaizumi next to someone else is painful, it's like taking a knife to your heart, but at the same time you know he doesn't mean his words.

just like iwaizumi, you've also known him long enough to know the words he means and the ones that he doesn't.

"i don't know, perhaps i'll congratulate you?" you manage to reply with a bitter laugh. "and also hate you for not inviting me to your marriage,"

you honestly don't know how you'd feel about iwaizumi starting a family with someone else. of course, you'd be happy for him, but will also carry a heart that aches at the site of him standing next to his other love, someone that's not you; and of course, you would still love him, even if you lose the rights to call him yours.

even though you're holding onto the words that you both will meet again, this could be the last time you see him. you know it already, you both have different lives, separate goals, and loving was never about staying next to each other even if it means giving up on what you've always wanted to do in life. it's surprising how you've both lived as strangers until you met each other and suddenly, your life without him seems impossible.

"will you be happy without me?" he asks.

"i'll try," you reply.

he nods, checking his watch before standing up and fixing his shirt. his eyes settle upon his backpack before travelling back to yours. "we still have twenty minutes, in case you want to change your decision,"

"i've decided,"

"okay," he breathes out, shooting you a smile while trying to choke in the tears that are starting to fall down his cheeks. "don't forget me," he adds a reminder, as if you're ever going to do that.

you met iwaizumi in middle school as a classmate, almost a stranger, someone you never properly talked to until he became the only student you knew beforehand in your class when highschool commenced. now, he is singlehandedly the most important person in your life. he's someone who loves you to moon and beyond, someone you've hurt many times but also is someone whose arms are like a second home to you.

you don't think anyone could compare to him, or the effect he has on you. no one can replace the moments you share with him, it's not like there's another person in the world who could make you feel the same way he did. you won't forget him because it's not like there's someone out there who can shadow his presence in your life.

like, there's not another iwaizumi hajime in this world because there's only one of him, and you're beyond lucky to share a few chapters of your life with a man who makes you feel like the happiest person alive.

with the boarding announcement going off, iwaizumi takes a last look at you. his eyes look the brightest they've ever been, overflowing with love so as to remind you that he loves you, and will continue to do so for years to come, that the distance that keeps on increasing between the two of you as he walks away doesn't mean anything because he'll always be there for you no matter what.

that you were the first for him and he is sure that you're also his last, and that you don't have to worry about him falling for someone else because even though he's going to a far away place, he's leaving his heart with you.

"hajime," you call, rushing to the line waiting in to pass through the metal detector. "i don't care if you come back with a wife, kid, or kids, or if you even come back. all i know is that i'm rooting for you, and i will continue to do so, and if you ever decide to come back, i'll be right here,"

you cup his face and plant a last kiss on his lips. "let's try to be happy without each other,"

and now, iwaizumi is twenty-seven, standing in front of flower wreaths at Narita International Airport with a white carnations, filtering through the small crowd that clutters the memorial of people who had passed away in an accident, fallen victims to the flight that went up in flames just a few minutes after it's take off.

iwaizumi spots your picture on the granite along with several others, placing the flowers amidst several others. a single tear rolls down his cheeks, "i'm a little late, aren't i, love?"

#♡ hues'. #♡ handmade. #iwaizumi x reader #haikyuu x reader #iwaizumi hajime #haikyuu #haikyuu fic #iwaizumi fic #haikyuu angst #iwaizumi angst #haikyuu drabbles #iwaizumi drabble #haikyuu headcanons #iwaizumi headcanons #haikyuu iwaizumi #giggles . i love writing iwa angst #my fav for real

[soaringmirror]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐦𝐞 — jean kirstein

notes: this is a repost one of my fave things i've written this year, mostly bc it's personal to me <3

content: gn!reader college!au, selfship, fluff

you stand with your hands in the deep pockets of your coat, toying with your keys and keychain around your fingers just to make sure you haven't lost them. the evening is chilly and your train home isn't for another 7 minutes. it's busy around this time but you take a moment to admire the evening sky as you wait. you wonder if jean has finished his class yet or if his lecturer is keeping the whole class back again. 

it became routine to walk to the station together and give a brief hug at the concourse before parting to different platforms. if you weren't so exhausted then you'd stop by his faculty's building, pretend to study or read while you wait for him. but it's wednesday evening, you have an hour journey ahead plus a 15 minute drive and you're tired. getting home safely is your main priority and you're mentally preparing yourself. 

at the same time, you wish that you both took the same train home. you'd even be willing to let him crash at your place.

jean usually waits on the platform opposite yours, his train always arrives first, 2 minutes earlier to be exact. you always manage to wave goodbye. he isn't anywhere to be seen amongst the crowd. 

you: sorry for going first, i'm soo tired. get home safely :) 

it's short and simple, but you do hope he gets home safe. you shove your phone back in your pocket and let your playlist drown out your thoughts and lecturer's voice.

across from you, his train arrives. you watch as people settle in, escaping from the cold night air. just as the train is out of sight, you feel your phone vibrate. 

jean: sorry, the lecturer kept us back again. i'm so over this. get home safe too okay? 

you: mhm, was he rambling again? 

jean: yeah, off his head. i swear i'm always zoning out in that class. 

you laugh at the thought monotonous chatter boring jean to death. 

you: i didn't see you at the platform. did u miss ur train? 

jean: yeah, next one comes in 12 minutes. i can't be fucked waiting. i just wanna crash in bed already

part of you feels bad that he has to wait, the other part just wants his company. your train comes in a minute, but it feels as though you have a split second to initiate. 

you: come home with me, my train comes in a minute so if u hurry you'll make it. 

jean: what, u can't be serious. 

you: i'm dead serious so hurry up unless u wanna be waiting in the cold. i'm driving too. 

jean: fine fine. good thing i was already walking your way. 

"dead serious, huh?" jean approaches you from behind, his breathing slightly ragged. a pink hue reminiscent of the evening sky is visible on his face. 

"dead serious," you confirm, giving him a hug. his body slumps slightly into yours as he catches his breath. 

finally, your train arrives, creating a slight breeze as it slows to a stop. you lace your arm around his and guide him to the empty seats. as a window seat enthusiast you're usually determined to find the window seat and pretend you're in a music video. but you don't mind him taking your (rightful) spot and crashing there for the next hour. 

the carriage is quiet apart from the scattered conversations between people. jean looks exhausted but still manages a few words of thanks and appreciation before asking if it's okay to doze off. you nod and allow him to rest his head on your shoulder.

it feels... nice. 

by the time you make it back, the car park is deserted. with the guidance of the streetlights, you walk to your car and thank the universe it's still in one piece. headlights illuminated the pitch black road, you were focused yet content listening to your playlist and the occasional sound of jean's voice beside you. 

thanks for reading <3

#♡ ‎lani writes #jean x reader #jean kirstein x reader #aot x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #also i wrote this in august when it was actually cold ehehe

[loki-is-my-kink-awakening]

Tell Me Some Things Last

Mobius & Sylvie (and Lokius at the end). Rated T. Angst, healing, friendship, minor references to self-harm, happy ending.

Mobius is paralyzed by his grief after Loki sacrificed himself to save the multiverse. It will take Sylvie helping him to face his emotions to give him his own happy ending.

Mobius couldn’t tear himself away from watching Don tidy up the front lawn after his kids had run havoc through the place. It was a life he hadn’t known, and even though he knew he could ask Sylvie to show him the memories if he wanted to, it wouldn’t change the fact he had a gaping hole in his heart. Looking back at his previous life was painful in a numbing kind of way. It was like his emotions were stuck somewhere within his body, unable to go anywhere. Tendrils of ancient grief floated along the surface but when he tried to grab hold, they slipped through his fingers and sank into the depths once more. He was weighed down by it, and yet it paled into insignificance at how much his heart ached from losing Loki. In all his time at the TVA—however long it actually was—he had never been close to anyone. Then Loki had arrived and he’d begun to feel again, to experience something within him: a hope, possibilities for the future. Now all he had was the tattered remains of his heart. “I wish I was with you,” he sighed, looking down at the ground and scraping his shoe up and down the sidewalk. The sun had been shining since he’d arrived here, reminding him of how another Loki had told his brother they would find their happy ending eventually. If only his Loki had been able to have one. Instead, he was trapped at the end of time sacrificing himself to outwit yet another egomaniac intent on removing choice from others. It should be embarrassing how often these things seemed to happen in the multiverse. They were an almost constant, just as Lokis were destined to lose. He knew Loki hadn’t wanted to be alone, and neither had Mobius. The only difference between them was that he could be surrounded by people if he wanted to; Loki was cut off from everyone. Mobius had never met He Who Remains, only a variant—and from what Loki had said, Timely was nothing like him—but he knew he had controlled everything and decided their fates, no matter how cruel or sweet. He’d been a dictator, an enslaver, and a tyrant. But he’d also lived a solitary life at the end of time with only Miss Minutes for company, and that would be enough to send anyone insane. Mobius knew loneliness, but he couldn’t imagine not being able to numb and escape it. When he’d had nothing but endless reports to wade through, never-ending detail to get lost in, it had been easier to cope with the scars he wore. The TVA hadn’t been a good place. He hadn’t been a good man while he was in it. He’d done terrible things as a hunter until his conscience refused to let him do it any longer, and then he had done ghastly things as an analyst by helping find variants when they went rogue. He’d once told Loki he was born to cause pain and suffering and death, but the truth was Mobius’ own role in the world had been to do the exact same thing to billions. He reached up and slipped a finger inside the sleeve of his shirt, rolling it across the silvery marks on his skin. In his worst moments, it had been a way to cope with the soul crushing pain of having taken people’s lives from them, until he’d sunk so low he almost felt nothing anymore. Above him, the sun was setting and he knew it was time to move on. He’d stood here for hours and now the curtains in Don’s house were being drawn and it was time to go. If only his feet could move from this spot. It took another flash of a timedoor and that same hand patting him on his shoulder to finally tear his gaze away. “Come on,” Sylvie said softly. “I think that’s enough. It’s time you had a drink.”

For @insert-witty-user-name-here. I hope you like it. 💕

Prompt fill for @lokiusbingo | wounded.

For anyone who has read the snippet and wants more, you can read the full fic on Ao3.

#mobius #sylvie #loki #lokius #mobius m mobius #sylvie laufeydottir #loki series #loki tv #marvel #mcu #my fics #my fic

[enid-rhees]

for you | Maggie Rhee x fem!reader

summary: you finally kill the man who hurt the girl you love.

genre: a bit of angst and a bit of fluff . kinda FTL

warnings: killing Negan (???), descriptive mentions of what Negan did to Glenn.

A/N: i’m absolutely loving Dead City so far, this doesn’t take place in that timeline though. this story takes place years before. so nothing happens to Hershel jr :)

everyone was fighting. gunshots filled your head, you couldn’t hear anything else. your body went into auto pilot, shooting whoever tried to step in front of you. you heard screaming, but couldn’t tell who or where it came from. everything was blurring together.

you wished this would end. all you wanted was for Hilltop to be safe. for Maggie and Hershel to be safe. that’s all you wanted. you wanted this to be over.

out of the corner of your eye, you noticed another coming after you. you turned around, shooting a bullet into his head with one clean shot. he fell to the ground, body losing color.

your eyes rapidly scanned the area, trying to find Maggie. you ran, dodging bullets and fists as you did so. your focus was her, and only her.

when you spotted her, you noticed a girl coming up on her from her blind spot. your legs took control of your body and you ran as fast as you could. you grabbed onto Maggie, pulling her out of the way and shooting the girl in one swift movement.

Maggie gasped, still processing the last two seconds. “are you okay?!” you yelled over the constant noise. she nodded, “i’m okay.” you pulled her into a hug, tightly gripping onto her back. you both stayed like that for a moment, not saying a word.

“well, would you look at that.” Maggie tensed in your arms as that voice came through. you pulled away, pulling Maggie behind you as you looked up, making eye contact with Negan.

he had that stupid, shit-eating grin on his face. the one that had been haunting Maggie for years.

“looks like the widow has a new pet!” he laughed, his bat swinging in his hands. you furrowed your brows at him. “never thought i’d see a day like this,”

“whatever you’re planning to do, just stop.” you told him. “what the hell do you think you gain from all of this?”

he laughed again. “i gain everything, widow’s pet. i gain your people, your guns, your food, everything! actually, i’ll even gain you! you will belong to me when i finish this. you will work for me.”

you looked at him with disgust, not understanding how someone could say these things out loud and not realize how psychotic they sound.

your hand reached into the back of your pants for your gun again. you kept it at your side, finger resting on the trigger. you already cocked the gun.

“oh, sweetie. you really think you can kill me? i’m sorry, but do you know who the hell i am? do you know who the hell you’re standing in front of?!” his voice got louder with each word, but you kept your strong suit up. you wouldn’t let him break you so easily like this.

“i’m sure Maggie here has told you what i’ve done, correct?” you were hesitant, but you nodded. he smiled, tongue licking over his teeth. Negan started to step closer to you.

you backed up, slightly raising the gun.

“oh, so you know very well how i beat her husband to death, yeah? how i taunted him as he bled out, shaking on the ground. how his eye bursted out of its socket, how he could barely say his last words to her as i beat his head into the ground until it was mush.”

you could feel Maggie hyperventilating behind you, her body shaking worse than you’ve ever seen. you stared at him with utter disgust and disbelief.

Negan took another step closer to you, raising his bat.

“if you really want to try and kill me, go for it. you know why? because in two minutes when you fail miserably, i’m going to do the exact same thing to you as i did to Glenn. and you will feel every last hit as i make Maggie watch it happen all over-“

your hand snapped up as your finger pressed down on the trigger. a single bullet shot through, and the next thing you knew, Negan was on the ground, a single line of blood dripping down his head.

you dropped the gun, feeling your body go numb. there was no longer gun shots blaring in your ear or screams of terror, everything and everyone went silent.

Maggie sobbed out loud, pulling you into a bone crushing hug. you could barely feel yourself hug her back, but you did, holding the back of her head. sobs racked through her body, unable to keep them in any longer.

it had finally felt like the biggest weight was lifted off of Maggie’s shoulders. Negan was dead. it didn’t erase Glenn’s death, but it brought justice to it.

you weren’t sure if you were going to be able to kill him like you did. each time Negan spoke, he grew more intimidating and aggressive. but when he started to make Maggie relive that awful night, and how he threatened to do the same to you in front of her, you lost it. imagining Maggie being hurt again was a nightmare to you.

“you’re safe now.” you whispered, running your hand through her hair now as she continued to cry in your shoulder. “Negan’s dead.”

Maggie pulled away, her green eyes red and glossed beyond belief from her crying. “you- you killed him.” she managed to get out.

“for you,” you whispered. “i couldn’t let him do that to you again. i-“ Maggie cut you off, her lips connecting to yours.

you and Maggie were never official. you always gave her as much space as she needed because you never sure if she wanted another relationship. you were patient with her. she knew she had feelings for you, but didn’t know what to do. Maggie was terrified of you getting hurt.

but now that Negan was dead, she felt free.

Maggie pulled away, leaning her head on yours. “i love you,” she whispered. “for a while now i have. but- i couldn’t let anything happen to you. i couldn’t find the strength to make you mine.”

“i’m yours.” you whispered back. “i’m all yours, Maggie.”

she smiled slightly, connecting your lips again. there was an emotion radiating through the kiss, one that felt euphoric. one that finally made everything so clear. you were finally Maggie’s, and Maggie was finally able to breathe again.

#maggie rhee #maggie rhee x reader #maggie rhee x fem!reader #the walking dead #the walking dead x reader #twd x reader #twd

[olivia091108]

Roomies

Summary:Sharing a hotel with bam

Word count :1412

Pairing:bam margera x reader

Today has tired me out so fucking much. I had to do get up at 5:30 to get to set and do the safety meeting about all the stunts that were happening and then for my first stunt I got thrown onto my back in the tidal wave and Ryan did a stunt where we were on some lubed up tarp and played tug of war and whoever lost would fall face first into horse shit.I won but Ryan ended up tackling me and covering me in it.

I had a shower on set to get rid of the smell but of course as soon as I stepped out I got razed by Johnny which doesn’t feel great. I got to watch the other stunts though and now we’re driving to California for the rest of the film

I would of gotten some sleep on the coach we hired but firstly there was a guaranteed chance that I would get pranked and secondly I want a good night sleep in the hotel. I was first off the coach once I heard tremaine announce we are here.

I ran over to him and he started to announce the roommates I didn’t really have to listen since I’m the only girl I always get a room by myself but Jeff was going down his list

“Steve o with Chris. Dave and ehren wee your with Preston ” I watched them jealously getting to go to their rooms and sleep but once I heard my name I snatched the card and went and found my room immediately collapsing on the bed.

Also having to fight with myself to get up to do my teeth. I walk over to the window and shut the curtains so I don’t have to be worried about the others then I go into the bathroom and have another shower since we’ve been travelling for 7 hours I feel icky. I do my teeth and wash my face and hang up my towel and only just realising I didn’t have my pjamas in here.

I walk back into the room naked since it was just me and it didn’t really matter to find my pjs

BAMS POV

Y/n raced off to her room and I wait for me and Ryan’s name but I just hear his. “Dunn with Knox” I was the only one left without a room

“Jeff what about me?”

“Oh this must be yours”he gives me the space card that he had and I take it and find the room i push in the key letting the door unlock and I see one bed meaning did the first time I don’t have to share a room with anyone and can actually get a good sleep for once.

Y/N POV

When I walk back in I see bam sitting on my bed and I see him look at me and I realise I’m butt ass naked and quickly cover myself as much as I could

BAM WTF!? he throws me the comforter and you wrap it around my naked body and try to hide my embarrassment from one of my friends seeing me with no clothes. Sure he sees me in bikinis and maybe a couple times my tits but that’s for the movie he’s not supposed to see them when the cameras aren’t rolling.

Bam just stares at me looking dumbfounded and just as confused as me. “How did you even get in here?” I ask

“Tremaine said this was my room look”he shows me his key card and it’s the exact same as mine I grab my pjs and walk back into the bathroom to change into my little short bottoms and a tank top.

I walk back out and grab vans wrist and walk barefoot to Jeff’s room and start banging on the door not caring that it was past midnight. After a minute or two he opens the door with his hair all over the place and rubbing his eyes. I probably just woke him up and a bit of guilt washes over me before remembering why I was here

“Jeff we need another room you gave us the same one and it’s only got one bed.”

“Well the first desk is closed now so I’m sorry but your gonna have to share it’s only for one night.”

“Can’t he share with anyone no offence”I say turning back to bam and he just shakes his head

“No there’s no room.” I look at bam again and see the tiredness in his eyes and think what’s the worst that could happen he’s just seen me naked what’s the big deal about sharing a bed.

“Alright fine.” He closes the door on us and grab bams hand and pull him back to our now shared room and we both walk inside and he goes to the bathroom to change and I grab my face wash and wait for him to finish.

Once he’s done he sees me holding my face wash and skin care and he lightly chuckles at it. “What is all that shit?”

“Its face wash do you not wash your face or something?”

“No just with water in the shower”

“Ew your just as bad as Dunn”

I walk in to the bathroom and start to do my nighttime skincare and in the reflection of the morris i see bam staring at me and I beckon him over and start to use my skin care on him and help him wash his face.

He did complain a bit when it went on his eyes but I did tell him to keep them closed and while I finish rubbing in his moisturiser he stared at himself in the mirror and I walk out and put my stuff into my bag.

He walks back in rubbing his face. “It’s so soft” I laugh at him being a virgin to skincare which really I shouldn’t be surprised at if he’s friends with Ryan who probably showers once a week. He gets under the covers next to me and I turn off the bedside table lamp.

We’re both laying on our backs keeping to our sides as much as we can but it’s really uncomfortable and I won’t get a good sleep like this. “Bam we’re friends what wrong with sharing a bed for one night i know that I won’t be able to sleep like this so cmon” I scoot a bit closer to him and turn on my side to face him and he wriggles around till he’s comfy and he slips his arm under my head acting as a pillow. It doesn’t take long for either of us to be asleep.

Hearing banging on the door I get woken up from probably one of the best sleeps of my life then I remember that bams here and throughout the night I ended up laying on his chest and clinging to him like a koala and his arm wrapped round my waist keeping me from moving before I can even try to get myself out of his grip I see the door opening Jeff had an extra key card clearly.

I see lance walk in holding the camera to us and the rest of the boys coming in and teasing us. Bam ends up waking up from all their noise and quickly notices what happened and unwrapped his arms from me and sat up clearing his throat with flushed cheeks which the boys just made fun of even more.

“You two overslept we still have a 3 hour ride ahead of us so quick as you can”Jeff says before ushering everyone out the room.

I swung myslef so I was hanging off the bed and reached into my bag and pulled out my clothes for today and started to take off my shorts and slip my knickers on followed by my jeans

“Sleep well?”bam asks while also getting dressed “yeah I slept really well you were like my own personal pillow”

I removed my top and look for my bra which is hidden under bams clothes and without flashing him twice on 12 hours I ask him to pass it and he blushes a bit before handing it to the half nude girl infront of him.

“What first time seeing a girl Topless bam?” I tease.

“Oh please you should know that ain’t true”

After both being dressed we rush down to the coach and get ready to endure 3hours of the boys making jokes about me and bam at lest they don’t know he saw me naked.

Remember my request are always open

Also I might start writing for Ryan Dunn sooner

-liv

#liv’s writing #jackass x reader #bam margera x reader #bam margera