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autumnywinter · 17 hours

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Hiii! <3 Could you perhaps write something with Reader cheating on yandere Jingyuan?

I hope this isn't ooc! I love writing for HSR characters but I don't do it often.

Yandere!Jing Yuan x Reader

Tags: NSFW MDNI, cheating, spanking, patronizing behavior, light degradation, sex as punishment, gender neutral reader, implied kidnapping

You couldn't deny you felt shame. Jing Yuan was so sweet, so doting, but he could get so busy sometimes. You loved him, you truly did, but occasionally, it was too tempting to not hook up with someone else. Just a fling, that's all you wanted. Only enough attention to make up for the lack of his while he was on duty. You didn't expect anyone to get murdered over it.

Things were supposed to go out smoothly. Your husband would be gone for the weekend, so you'd have a one-night stand and sneak back home at midnight. You didn't bother hiding the hickeys since you didn't think he'd be home.

However...

"Welcome home, dear. Did you have fun?"

He was there when you walked in. He was lounging on the sofa, eyeing you as you came in, his figure relaxed with one leg crossed over the other. There was no anger on his face. On the contrary, he smiled and looked more content than he had been in a while. But you could see it.

The glimmer in his eyes, the dangerous red that clouded his pupils. He wasn't angry. He was furious.

You flinched, wanting to shrink away into your coat. How were you supposed to explain this? "I..." Your voice came out in a rasp, throat dry and tight. You swallowed down your fear and tried again. "Yes... I did."

Part of you was still foolishly hoping he didn't know about your disloyalty, that you were overthinking his mannerisms.

Perhaps he just happened to be home early because he wanted to see you, and not because he rightfully suspected anything. Maybe you could still cover this up.

He rose from his seat and came towards you. "Did you now?" His arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you against his chest. Your hands shook as they hung by your sides. "Would you like to know what I did, honey?"

It wasn't a question. He didn't care if you did or didn't want to know. He was going to tell you anyway.

His face pressed into your neck, inhaling your scent, humming against your skin. "I followed you." His lips peppered your neck with kisses as his grip tightened. "I have lots of friends in the knights that patrol the area frequently. Imagine my heartbreak when I hear my darling spouse has been sneaking around. I didn't want to believe it, so I had to see for myself."

You trembled in his hold, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. Jing Yuan's tone was frighteningly even, but that only scared you more. You could feel him smiling against your skin. Forced and cold.

"When I saw you enter that man's house, I thought to myself: No, there must be an explanation for this. There's no way you would do such a thing." The more he talked, the more painful his grasp got. His nails dug into your side, threatening to puncture your skin. "So I waited outside for a while and sure enough, you came out a mess." His gaze became more narrowed, trailing down to the angry hickeys covering your skin.

"You stunk of alcohol and sweat, with all these nasty marks all over you. Even on your collarbone. Absolutely shameful."

You winced. "I'm sorry-"

"Shh." Jing Yuan's lips covered your own in a deep kiss that tasted of wine. "You were lonely without me, right? You wanted attention. I understand. There's no need to apologize. I know I haven't been paying much attention to you, so it's natural for you to look elsewhere."

Despite his understanding words, you felt trapped. Jing Yuan kissed you again and again, tongue swiping against your lips. You didn't have a choice but to open your mouth and let him in, letting his tongue explore every inch of your mouth.

He usually took his sweet time tasting you, but this time, he was impatient and sloppy. You could only grip his arms, whimpering as he poured all of his pent-up anger into the kiss.

When he pulled away, your knees threatened to give out on you. His mouth remained close, the warmth of his breath grazing your lips.

"You'll just have to make it up to me." His hand slithered under your coat and slid it off, his fingers stroking the marks on your shoulders. "These look painful. I never knew you liked pain. But I guess I never knew you were a whore, either."

His words pierced you like daggers, tears spilling from your eyes as you choked back a sob. Jing Yuan's cold eyes softened at the sight, cooing at you.

"Don't cry, sweetheart. It hurts me too when you cheat." His fingers stroked your cheek, catching some of your tears and licking them off his fingers. "I'll take care of you now, okay? Let me be your husband again." He guided you into the bedroom, pushing you onto the bed. "I'm going to fuck all of him out of you, so when I'm done, you'll only remember me. And all the other men you've seen."

Before you could protest, he flipped you onto your stomach and pulled down your pants. You squealed as his hand came down on your ass, leaving a red mark that would surely bruise later.

His palm was ice cold on your hot skin, soothing the sting from the impact.

"I want to forgive you, but I'm not going to lie to myself. You hurt me. I'd never hurt you like that." He paused, feeling between your legs. "And now you're getting aroused by this? Maybe I really have been neglecting you." He stood up to unbuckle his belt. "Let me remind you what sex feels like with someone who loves you."

You glanced back at him over your shoulder, watching him stroke himself. He looked down at you, an unsettling smile on his face.

"You know I love you, right?"

Jing Yuan climbed onto the bed, fingers tracing up your leg before pressing into your entrance. You whimpered as he eased them inside, not used to being stretched so suddenly. But he didn't care.

He thrust his fingers in and out of you, moving his fingers in scissoring motions to spread you more. You couldn't stop squirming beneath him, struggling to adjust to his pace.

"Answer me," he demanded. His fingers curled inside you.

"I do! I-I do!"

He hummed and removed his fingers, staring down at his hand covered in your wetness. He admired the way his wedding ring glistened in the low lighting, but not for long.

His gaze lowered to your reddened, flustered face, making his cock twitch.

"Good. Because I really do love you." He lifted your hips up, guiding the tip of his cock to your hole. He pushed into you and watched as you squeezed your eyes shut, desperate moans falling from your lips. Your walls wrapped around him, and he wanted nothing more than to absolutely wreck you.

So he did.

His hips snapped against yours at a rough pace, hands gripping your waist tight enough to leave finger-shaped bruises. Your moans and the sound of skin slapping skin filled the room. But the way you cried his name was the best song to his ears.

If he weren't mad with jealousy and frustration, he would've taken a few seconds to grab his phone to record. But he needed to chase the image of that man out of your mind first.

He reached around you and started rubbing the sensitive bundle of nerves between your legs. He sunk his teeth into your shoulder, grunting against your skin. His touch sent you spiraling into an orgasm, juices gushing all over his cock.

Your tightening walls drove him towards his climax as well, and he came inside of you with a satisfied groan.

Your eyes were blown wide as you felt his cum fill you up. Jing Yuan panted above you, not having the energy to pull out yet. After a few seconds, he did, watching his seed spill out of you. His hips gave a few lazy thrusts into you as if trying to push it in deeper.

"You took me so well, sweetheart." He laid down next to you, bringing your shaking body close.

"Are you still mad at me?" You breathed in his scent.

He chuckled. "I'm no longer mad. In fact, I'm happy. You just confirmed my suspicions that you can't be trusted on your own."

You didn't like the sound of that. "What do you mean?"

He brought a hand to your neck, stroking the skin there. "You have a wild spirit. So it's only natural that I'd need to watch over you closely, right? So you don't wander off again. How can you cheat on me if I'm the only person you see?" He ignored your frightened expression and snuggled you close to him. "This is for the best. Everything I do is for you, Y/n."

#yandere #yandere hsr #yandere honkai star rail #yandere jing yuan #jing yuan #jing yuan smut #hsr smut #honkai star rail smut #yandere x reader #obsessive love #yandere imagines #yandere x you #yandere fic

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hellfirenacht · 2 days

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C'mon, It's Just One Night (Part 1)

Summary: After getting a fake love note in your locker, you ask Eddie to help you mess up some bullies plans.

Tags: Eddie Munson x Reader, sfw, fem reader, reader wears a dress at one point, mentions of bullying, actual bullying, two-shot

Master List

Work Count: 3.7k Words

You ain't seen nothing yet....

The thing that always confused you about jocks and popular kids was that they always assumed that everyone else was dumber than them. Girls would come up to you and give you a compliment that was clearly not sincere and when you thanked them just to get them to leave you alone they would giggle and think that you believed them. Guys would ask you on dates as a joke and you’d roll your eyes and try to ignore them, even as they tried desperately for your attention for their own amusement.

Thankfully, there were certain perks that came with being in the Hellfire Club. Being associated with Eddie “the Freak” Munson meant that as long as you were standing near your friend, you’d mostly be left alone. You’d sit with him at lunch, try and walk with him to class in the hallways, and in general just tried to avoid any jock that looked particularly bored.

However it had been quiet over the past few weeks, too quiet for your liking. Honestly, you were almost missing some of the backhanded compliments because it at least gave you a chance to blow off some steam outside of Hellfire. Well, something out there heard your wish and that’s how you found yourself watching from the other end of the hallway as two boys shoved a note in your locker, snickering to themselves.

Well, this should be entertaining at least.

They didn’t even try and look around to see if anyone was watching them, too caught up in their own scheme to realize the person who’s locker they were messing with was watching them from just a few yards away.

“-’s gonna be so funny.” laughed one. You didn’t even know their names. There were so many people at this school that how were you expected to keep up with everyone when you didn’t even speak to them?

“Yeah, she’s gonna be embarrassed and we’ll get a free show out of it.” laughed the other one.

You were right there. How was it that you could be on their radar for this shit and yet still remain completely invisible?

The two turned around and you pretended to be throwing something away in a nearby trash can quickly, so that they wouldn’t realize that you had been staring at them.

“There she is, we gotta go!” you heard one say in a voice that you assumed was his idea of whispering as the two scampered off while trying to hold off their laughter.

You gave them a generous thirty seconds to get away before making your way to your locker and opening it up, grabbing the note and reading it over. It took everything you had not to burst out laughing right there, and you were just going to throw it away when you had an idea.

Tucking it into your pocket, you smiled and made your way to the drama room for Hellfire as you started making your own plans for what you’d just read.

“And with the Dwarf’s golden pick rightfully returned to him, I think this is a good stopping point.” Eddie said, finally sitting back in his chair. He’d been really revved up today, jumping around the table and getting in everyone’s faces as he described what was happening. He’d nearly rammed his head into yours at one point and you had barely managed to lean back enough so he didn’t.

Eddie was always revved up, always ready to put on a show. He wasn’t afraid to be loud or call out the bullshit of what was expected. Eddie would jump on tables, get in people's faces, declare himself King Freak.

He was perfect.

...For your plan. Nothing more. You knew he’d be on board when you explained what you wanted to do. He was perfect for... that.

As the rest of the club filed out, you stayed behind to help clean up the leftover soda cans and break down the board. You were also stalling because you didn’t want any of the other members to witness what you were about to ask of Eddie.

“Your Scottish accent is getting better and worse at the same time.” you said, handing him one of the minis. “Sometimes you nail it, and sometimes I don’t think you’re even trying to say anything legible.”

“It’s better than your character's accent! Is your tiefling from New Jersey or trans-atlantic?” Eddie laughed, shoving his notes unceremoniously in a folder.

“Why do Dwarves need to be Scottish anyway?” you ignored his question, fully aware that your accents were no better. “I think you should mix it up. Make Canadian dwarves or something.”

This is how Hellfire usually ended, with the two of you joking around and talking about the session and making fun of each other while you tried to get hints about what was to come. He never gave anything away.

You blew out a few candles and Eddie went to readjust the lights. You reached into your pocket and pulled out the note.

“So, Eddie.” you started, turning to him. “Remember how last month I helped you study for Mrs. O’Donnel’s midterm and you got a solid B?”

Eddie’s brow furrowed and he stopped what he was doing to look at you. Under the multicolored spotlights he looked... you never had the words to describe it. He just looked like Eddie. The Eddie that should be playing guitar on stage or the Eddie that kept your attention so easily and rapturously when he was running his games. You weren’t ready to say that to his face yet, despite the contradiction of what you were about to do.

“I remember.” he said, walking over to you and crossing his arms. “I take it you aren’t just bringing up a fond memory of us to reminisce about?”

“Not a chance.” you looked into his brown doe eyes. “It’s time for you to pay up.” And with that you handed over the note.

Eddie took it with a slight tilt of his head and unfolded it, scanning the contents.

My Dearest,

I’ve been watching you for weeks now, enraptored by your beauty. I’ve been too shy to talk to you, but now I want the chance to confess to you. I’m in love with you, and have been all year. I don’t care if everyone thinks you’re some weird Satanist freak because I’m into that. Please be my date for homecoming and meet me at the school at 7:30 pm.

-Your secret admirer

“It’s not really a secret if you’re handing this directly to my face.” Eddie said, looking up from the note. “And you spelled ‘enraptured’ wrong.”

“I found this in my locker.” you said, ignoring his comments. “Some jocks think they’re being funny and are clearly trying to pull some sort of prank to humiliate me.”

“Think it’s a Carrie situation?” Eddie asked, looking over the note again before handing it back to you.

“They don’t have the guts to get any pig's blood.” you shook your head.

“So what does this have to do with me? You know that Hellfire doesn’t do school dances.” He said. “I thought we were just gonna blow it off, and Corroded Coffin is gonna do a secret show at the Quarry.”

“Eddie, all your shows are secret.”

“Not true, we have recently gained another groupie. There are now a grand total of six drunks that regularly listen to us play.” Eddie pouted. “Six and a half if you count the cat that’s been hanging around the Hideout.”

“Yeah, okay, remember me when you’re famous.” You said. “Listen, I need your help. I’m coming to you wanting to cash in my favor. I need the Freak to help me out here, Eddie.”

“For what, exactly?” His eyes narrowed, but you stood your ground.

“If I show up to homecoming, something's gonna happen. The best case scenario is that I show up and they ignore me and laugh while I wait for this fake person to show up. The worst case scenario ends with pigs blood and me learning I have telekinetic powers.” You explained.

“So why even bother going? I thought we all agreed that Hellfire doesn’t do school events.”

That was a good point, and you were making a gamble on this. Eddie didn’t do school events, and tried to make it a rule for his club as well. That didn’t go over well when Mike insisted that he was going to take his girlfriend Jane to homecoming, and everyone finally came clean that Lucas was playing both sides of the field and playing basketball AND doing Hellfire.

You had to admit, Eddie’s face of disappointment and disapproval was pretty funny. You felt bad for the guy though, he avoided anything school related like the plague outside of this club. Eddie had boasted that he’d never gone to prom or homecoming, and had been skipping any pep rally since his second senior year.

“You agreed that you didn’t go to events. I never agreed to anything.” you said firmly. “I only agreed to show up every Friday and wear the Hellfire shirt.”

“And again I ask, what does this have to do with me?” Eddie pushed.

“Be my date for homecoming.” you said. “My fake date. I want you to get to me before they have the chance to.”

Eddie froze for a second, a thousand emotions flashing through his eyes at once. You’d seen this look countless times when one of his players had thrown him a curve-ball and he had to scramble to figure out how to make it work for the game.

“Your fake date.” he said slowly. “So you want me to- what exactly?”

“I want you to show up and pretend to be the person who wrote this note.” you explained. “I’ll pretend to be thrilled, you get to be seen with a cute girl at a dance, the gossip train gets something to talk about, and the jocks get their plans foiled. Everybody wins.”

Eddie rolled his eyes at your plan. “Or you could just not show up at all and just come help us set up for the show.” He said.

“But that’s not fun.” You pointed out. “Besides, if they think we’re together even just for the night then they’ll leave me alone. Probably”

Eddie looked skeptical.

“Please?” you leaned closer, making your eyes wide as possible. “Eddie, these dicks have been on my ass all semester. I can’t go two weeks without getting asked out as a joke or having some meat head yell about how his “friend thinks I’m cute”. It’s fucking annoying, and ignoring them has done jack and shit.”

You saw the stone look in his eyes falter and his shoulders ease up. “You’re really serious about this?” he asked.

“I am.” you confirmed. “You do this for me, and you can have full creative control. Show up in your Hellfire shirt, hell you could show up in your pjs and I’ll pretend to be thrilled that you’re my secret admirer. We’ll make sure that we’re seen, then we can go to the quarry. We don’t even have to stay for fifteen minutes. Just show up for me, Eddie. Please.”

Eddie took a deep breath and rubbed his face with his hands. “Fifteen minutes. All I have to do is show up and pretend that I’m your secret admirer and then we leave. Right?”

“Right.” You promised. “That’s all I need.”

Eddie sighed deeply and grabbed his jacket and threw it on. “I am never asking for your help studying again. You drive a hard bargain.” Despite his words he had a grin on his face.

“I’m going easy on you, if you had gotten an A I’d be demanding that you show up in a full tux with roses.” you teased. “I’m talking about the full cheesy school dance treatment. Corsage, first dance, all of it.”

“Don’t even start, you’d have to get me to completely ace her whole class to get that kind of treatment.” Eddie grabbed your shoulder and started pushing you up the stairs. “I wouldn’t even know where to get a tux.”

“I think you’re supposed to rent one.” you laughed as the two of you made your way out of the drama room and closed the door. “I, however, will need to actually buy my dress.”

“You’re really gonna get a dress for this? We’re only going for fifteen minutes.” Eddie pointed out.

“Oh, would you rather me show up looking terrible?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “You really wanna show up and fake-confess to me looking plain and like I don’t care?”

“You really want to sell this, huh?” Eddie laughed.

“It’s the only way I can think of for them to stop.” You said.

The two of you made your way to the parking lot. Eddie walking you to your car.

“Remember Eddie, you have full creative control over how you want to do this.” you said, getting in the driver's seat. “I don’t care how you show up, just go loud.”

“Eddie ‘the Freak’ Munson would never disappoint.” he said, closing the door for you with a flourish.

You were going to get a dress for this.

No, you weren’t, you were only going to be there for fifteen minutes at most.

But your mom would want to take pictures and be thrilled you were even going. After all, you’d avoided it during your first four years of high school.

And you wanted to.

That was the real kick in the pants for all this. You wanted to go to homecoming. You wanted to have a night to dress up and look nice and have fun with your friends. Unfortunately, only the freshmen were going to the dance, and as much as you loved Mike, Lucas, and Dustin, you didn’t really think you’d have a lot of fun with some kids a good five years younger than you. Hell, Mike and Lucas had actual dates and Dustin had a long distance girlfriend!

You’d be the single person in the group and that didn’t exactly put points in your favor for sticking around for the dance. The rest of Hellfire didn’t bother going to these kinds of things, as this town made it clear that school events were for normal people who enjoyed normal things, whatever the fuck that meant.

As much as you denied ever wanting to go to homecoming or prom, you knew that you wanted to, and you knew who you wanted to go with.

On the bright side, at least you’d get your secret wish now, even if it was for fifteen minutes.

Eddie had made it clear since the first time the words “school dance” were uttered in his presence a few years ago that he wasn’t going to even entertain the idea of showing up. Those nights were dedicated to one shots or longer sessions for Hellfire. So for the past few years you had skipped out on any dances in favor of at least telling your beat up journal that you had technically spent prom or homecoming with Eddie Munson.

You walked into the department store that you knew had a sizable selection of dresses, took one look at the price tags, and walked right back out. It was insane to spend that money on one night of dancing, let alone fifteen minutes.

Besides, where else would you even wear a dress like that? You laughed at the idea of showing up to Hellfire, with your shirt on over whatever you would have picked. That’d be stupid.

....

But it’d also be funny.

You walked back into the department store and ignored the front and center mannequins to hit up the clearance rack instead. Even as you browsed, you were still trying to convince yourself that you didn’t need to buy something for this. Eddie was probably just going to show up in his old faded DIO shirt and some old jeans (maybe the ones that had that hole in the butt that showed his boxers when you stood behind him, if you were lucky). He probably wouldn’t even brush his hair.

You had a choice to make. How much of an effort did you want to put into your appearance for this? Should you follow Eddie’s approach and just show up as normal, or should you allow yourself an indulgence in the Cinderella fantasy? What did you want, and what did this revenge situation call for?

You wanted to look nice. You wanted to tell your journal that you had a date with Eddie and that you looked good and that those asshole jocks didn’t even recognize you. Wouldn’t it be better that way anyway? No matter what Eddie looked like when he showed up, the point would be made clear; you were off the market (as far as anyone would be able to tell) and Eddie Munson had gotten the girl. No, not the girl; a girl. Being the girl implied that you were someone that Eddie had an interest in.

Dresses of different lengths and cuts and colors started to blend together as you indulged in the fantasy of matching your dress to whatever Eddie was going to wear. You flipped through the dress rack while you mentally flipped through all the shirts you had seen Eddie wear in the last few weeks. He favored darker colors most times, the main exception being the white Hellfire Club shirt.

“Dark clothes don’t stain as easily.” he’d explained before.

You kept flipping through the racks of last seasons’ fashion, trying to find something that you could wear. Halfway through you considered giving up and just showing up in what you would have worn to the quarry if you hadn’t planned this whole thing.

You need to commit to the bit. You reminded yourself. These jocks are expecting you to look pretty and then try to embarrass you. Don’t half ass it.

Sucking it up, you made your way over to the normal racks. Your mom had given you some cash to buy yourself a nice dress, but you had been hoping to just buy something cheaper and save the rest to buy off of Eddie later.

You walked out of the store, bag in hand, with a receipt showing a number that made you feel sick. You reminded yourself over and over it was for you, Eddie, and your mom.

“Are you sure you have the charisma for this?” Gareth asked. “You always roll shit with any charisma roll.”

“Gareth, I don’t know if you know this, but rolling a die and saying that I’m trying to do something is different than actually doing it outside of the game.” you said as the two of you made your way into the Library. You had it on good authority that this was the jocks study hall period, and you wanted to really sell your plan.

“I still don’t get why I have to be part of this. I’m not even going to homecoming either.” He grumbled. “This whole thing is stupid. You should just come to the show instead.”

“I can do both.” you waved him off. “All I need you to do is let me talk at you-”

“You do that anyway.”

“Yes, but this time I need you to pretend to be invested.” You explained. “You let me talk about how excited I am for homecoming and to meet my secret admirer and I use my powers of being able to leave school during lunch to bring you McDonald’s tomorrow.”

Gareth couldn’t argue with that, no teenage boy could resist the sweet temptation of greasy fast food in the middle of the school day. It was more than a fair trade, even if Gareth didn’t see the point in this. You just really wanted to sell your plan.

“Remember, all you need to do is ask me who I’m going to Homecoming with.” you reminded him.

The two of you walked over to where the group of basketball players were goofing off and not really studying, and the two who had slid the note into your locker started nudging each other and snickering to themselves.

“So who are you going to homecoming with?” Gareth asked, his line delivery stiff and unnatural and disinterested. You had to fight with yourself to not roll your eyes at the lackluster performance.

“I don’t know!” your voice was a little higher pitched at the response, trying to emulate the cheerleaders you’d seen giggling in their groups as they gossiped. You pulled the note that you had been keeping in your pocket. “I got this note asking me to meet them at the dance, so I have no idea!”

You continued to gush to the disinterested Gareth how excited you were to be asked to go, and speculating on who it could be. The entire time, your friend looked like he’d rather be smashing his head against the table than listen to you talk about this, which was honestly more fun for you than the jocks reactions.

From the table behind you, the normally loud group of boys were attempting to be quiet as they snickered and nudged each other. You wished that Gareth would try and talk a little more so that you could stop talking to eavesdrop on them.

When the jocks started getting louder again, that’s when you dropped the conversation. They weren’t interested in hearing anymore and so you weren’t either.

“So what was the point of that?” Gareth muttered, making his way to the exit of the library.

“I don’t want them to forget about me. If I’m gonna be completely honest, I really just expected them to totally forget they left something in my locker about this.” you adjusted your backpack, following him out. “I’m committed to the bit.”

“Sounds like you’re just asking for trouble.” He shook his head.

“Maybe a little.” you sighed. “Eddie and I are graduating this year and I don’t want to look back at my time here and think that I just took the bullshit that was given to me. I just want them to get off my ass for the rest of the year.”

“Do you really think it’ll work?”

“Only one way to find out.”

Part 2 It's Gonna Be A Night We'll Never Forget (Coming Soon)

Dividers By: @strangergraphics

Tag List: @somethingvicked @ladysilence @leelei1980 @seexyyprincess @rosebudsgarden @ghcstpyre @crocwork-clockodile

#nacht fic #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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nightsmarish · 3 days

Text

Summary: after talking to Regulus, you both decide to take the offer to stay with the Potters, and barty gets thrown across the slytherin table by Evan

Pt1

A/n: very focused on Reg for some reason, not 100% sure why, but it's lovely, also we love bestie barty. ALSO ALSO, reader is aggressively, very aggressively, hinted to be slytherin

Poly!moonwater x reader (Remus lupin x regulus black x reader) | 1.4k words

Tw: toxic family, running away? Family disappointment, ect. Barty jinxing Gryffindors for sport and an owl flying into a chess game

Asked to be tagged: @misacc08

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊

It's finally two weeks until the end of this year at Hogwarts. Class times have been filled with going over study guides and reviewing for the final exams only a few days away.

Neither you nor Regulus have said yes to staying at Potter Manor this summer. Despite James being very adamant about it.

“I’ll just mention you blokes might be joining us.” James told you when you visited Gryffindor table one morning, as he wrote his parents.

“James-”

“No, no, let ‘im. No harm in it? Is there?” Sirius cuts you off, feet extended to rest on the bench across the table from him.

“But Mrs. Potter shouldn’t prepare an extra room if neither of us will be joining.” Your points are acknowledged when James hums to confirm he heard you, but his quill never stops moving.

Remus has been looking at you the whole time. Not in a creepy way, you're both pretty sure not in a creepy way at least. Just in an undivided attention way. Practically ignoring the other two boys to admire you, other than when he occasionally slaps away Sirius’ hand on his fifth attempt to grab Remus’ food.

You look down to where Remus sits as well. Honestly, he's not that much shorter than you sitting down, but wherever. Your hand that's not holding the strap of your bag gently scratched the hair at the base of his head before kissing his cheek, mumbling a small promise to see him during your study time later.

ᯓ★

It's not like you don’t want to go to stay with everyone else. It’d be amazing; it really would. But the idea of going when Regulus stays at the Black House feels wrong. You know being with your parents won’t help him, nor will being at James’ house, but it feels wrong.

Remembering how destroyed he was when Sirius left. When he came back to school, you two hadn’t known the Marauders like you do now. The anger he knew was misplaced, but he couldn’t help but feel abandoned by Sirius. You remember it—the crying, the way he couldn’t focus until a month into school. And you remember Sirius being disowned.

And maybe that's part of it too. The idea of being disowned. Even if you know they are horrible people, people you don’t wish to be related to. The idea still makes you sick. Their horrible and evil, but dear Salazar, parent approval is so addicting and you hate how much you still want it.

So which is worse, feeling like you betrayed one of your boyfriends, or your parents disapproval?

“Regulus?” You keep your voice low in the library. The aforementioned boy looks up from his textbook sitting across from you. Remus, next to you, pauses, moving his quill to focus on you two as well.

“Yes?” His voice matches yours, despite being a little more stiff.

“I wanna talk about it again. About James’ house.” You rush the words out. Probably because you know Regulus will want to shoot it down immediately.

“Love, you know I’m not going.” He sighs, sitting up straight in his seat.

“Why? Why not go?”

"Dove-" Remus tries to interject, not sure how well direct confrontation will go after Regulus has already denied it far too many times.

“What would I do?”

Both you and Remus pause, looking right at Regulus. Who stares right back at you.

“What do you mean?’ Remus says what you think.

“I leave, I get disowned, I lose the family fortune.” There are unspoken words there; everyone knows. He loses the Black name, he loses the reputation, and he loses everything he ever knew. Sirius had always wanted to leave; he had dreamed about it long before the possibility ever even crossed Regulus’ mind. The older Black had an idea of what would happen long before he left. Regulus hasn't gotten that right.

“We can figure it out when we get there, love.” Remus rests his quill in the small ink pot, reaching both his hands to cup Regulus’ hands between his own.

All three of you stay silent for a second, Regulus looking down at Remus’ hand covering his own, you staring at Regulus, and Remus looking between the two of you, trying to figure out what to do.

"If..." you sigh, shifting in your seat, “if... you go... I’ll go, and we can figure it out together.”

Gray eyes shoot up to yours. “Are you serious?” His voice is unsure, like you're going to take your offer back for no apparent reason.

“Yeah. I’m scared too, but I don't think I can bring myself to go back, not this time. But at the same time, I won’t be okay with going if you don’t go.”

Remus takes a deep breath, one hand still holding the younger boy's hand, other moving so his arm wraps around your shoulder, gently rubbing your upper arm. “So, it's settled. I can tell James.”

“Thank you,” You whisper, and Regulus takes one of his hands from the lycan to intertwine your fingers.

ᯓ★

The letter felt wrong to write. Less than a week before you're off to Potter Manor is when you get a response.

You're sitting at the Slytherin table in the morning when the letter holding their response arrives. Your owl landing smoothly, unlike the poor Hufflepuff owl you see sly head first into a game of Wizard Chess.

The seal of the letter belongs to your family, and it's painfully obvious. Regulus had gotten his response within a few days. Hurtful and harsh, despite never reading it yourself.

Looking around, Regulus is watching Barty, who is sitting on the long table rather than at it, cast small, mostly-hopefully harmless jinxs on a few older Gryffindors who haven't seemed to notice who's doing it. While Evan is whispering more and more jinxs for Barty to use.

Deciding that you might as well get it over with, you break the wax seal. The letter was nothing but vile, as you expected, the threats, the anger, the disappointment. Yet, you are honestly relieved. Like a huge, bolder is off your back. Sisyphus would envy you.

"And what do you have? A secret admirer? Are you planning on finally leaving the wild beasts you call boyfriends?"

Barty turns his attention to you as you finish reading, snatching the letter to inspect it.

"Ew, is that from your parents?" Evans nose scrunches up, noticing the names signed at the bottom of the parchment when he leans over Bartys shoulder.

"Yeah, I wrote them last week that I'd be staying with the Potters this summer, and they finally got back to me." Your voice remains surprisingly even, despite feeling somewhere between calm and like you're going to vomit, cry, and punch a wall.

Evan and Barty continue to scrutinize the letter, the phrasing, and how your mother writes the letter S weird. While Regulus leans closer to you.

"Everything okay?" His quite, a stark contrast two the boys sitting acorsd from you as Barty pushes his boyfriend off the seat for something or another and Evan kicks a little too close to Bartys dick.

"Yeah, it'll be okay." You hum, scooting closer to the pale boy, "would you and Remus want to come stay at my dorm tonight? At least for a little? Serenella and Iris are both going to be out all night."

"Of course, love. I'll grab Remus after charms and we can meet you there before dinner?" A soft kiss is placed on the top of your head when he finishes his sentence.

"That sounds good."

The peace of the situation is cut off by Barty falling off the table towards you, taking you down to the floor with him.

"God damnit Barty!" A smile far to big for the situation paints your face face.

"Evan threw me, gem! He tried to kill me! I'm wounded." Barty sits half on hus knees, half laid out on the gross Hogwarts in such a pathetic manor Regulus chuckles under his breath.

"And I'll do it again idiot!" Evan sits back on his spot at the long table. Huffing while smoothing out his hair and uniform.

"Oh God, gem, I won't make it." Barty throws himself onto you, your back to the ground as you laugh. "If I die will you leave your loser boyfriends to join me and Evan?"

"Okay, junior, that's enough." Remus appears in your vision, slightly nudging Bartys side, like touching him too long will make whatever is sodding wrong with the boy rub off on him.

"Hello, big boy." Barty stands up and takes you with him, dusting off his and your clothes. "You know, both of you could leave Regulus and-"

"Okay Barty!" Regulus pushes Barty to sit back down, shutting him up as he begins to bicker with Regulus next.

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miserycanary · 10 hours

Text

PERSISTS IN DELUSION ᡣ𐭩 previous ⤶

pairing: Simon 'Ghost' Riley & reader

synopsis: you've left and what was left of Ghost

tags: I really don't know whether to tag this as fluff or angst

The clock hanging by the wall ticks persistently like a bomb waiting to break Ghost’s delusion that you’ll come back. Ever since that night, he has spent his time like a literal ghost. Barely eating, barely moving, barely living without you.

With each heavy step that he takes toward your shared bedroom—now bare—the pain in his chest drags him. “I’m home, baby..” he gruffs at the presence he tricked himself to think was still there. Dropping his things by the door, he moves so slowly and plops himself at the mattress that is now cold.. Like how it always was before you came into his life and warmed his whole body and soul.

Ghost isn’t a crier. Never was. He took all the beatings from his father without letting a single tear fall. He didn’t shed shit when he had to force himself out of the grave he was put in alive. Not even when he left with no family and had to witness that moment with his own eyes. Ever since then, he has swore to heaven and earth that they will never take anything from him again. Depriving himself of anything that could tie him down emotionally.

Then suddenly there was you in all your glory.

Face painted similarly to his as you hand the kids celebrating Día de Muertos candies. Ghost never thought he’d take a step back in this country but as if tugged by fate, he found himself surrounded with the similar decorations that started his nightmare. Yet all he could zero out on was you. And that moment, Ghost knew that heaven and earth were snickering at him, mocking him for what he swore long before was now forgotten.

As the crown dissipates, he takes all the scuffed pieces of his heart. “That’s a pretty flower,” he grumbles. He sees the way you flinch at the sudden person, turning around to see his towering self. Simon wasn’t stupid and he knew how intimidating he looked and expected you to be scared. His apology is already at the tip of his tongue.

“Thank you! Do you want it?” He stills, blinking at the unexpected reaction. “O-oh, yeah, thank you.” You, on the other hand, expected the giant of a man to take the delicate flower with roughness, even expecting some petals to fall yet he took it so gently. Simon plucked the stem from your hand, placing it on the wide expanse of his palm and leaning lower to expect it. “Pretty..” he mutters, and you almost agreed if not for the way he said it with his eyes on you.

Time passed and you guys were intertwined, lives and love exchanged throughout the two years he was with you.

Ghost fully expected you to run when he first told you about himself, but you stayed. You tore down his walls with patience and care, showing empathy for what he has gone through but never pity and that made him fall deeper. Now Ghost would be lying if he said he has relationship experiences but he knew that if he doesn’t take this opportunity, then he’d lose you before he even had you (he lost you either way).

But what could he do now? What’s done has been done. He could learn about a relationship all he wants but who matters the most to him is gone. With a new profound energy, he pulled himself up, opening the drawer beside him. He shuffles through the pile of things before pulling out what he was looking for. Sighing, he opens the box and stares at the engagement ring.

Taking you for granted was not his intention. When you started to cook him meals, take care of the dishes, and everything else, he thought this was the norm. His duty was just to spoil his pretty girl. He never found anything wrong with the dread and exhaust that paints your face everyday because he was used to the heavy weight and assumed everyone was like that. You never complained, so he thought everything was fine.

And he never wanted to snap back at you. He knew all about the sacrifice you did and gave for him, and how much you went through just to stay with him. He watches your eyes dim each time he tells you that you guys have to move once again or how broken you were when he found you at the hands of someone who wanted him dead. Loving him and being loved wasn’t easy but you did it with no complaints.

Now he had to go out and be stupid, letting you slip from his fingers just because he couldn’t carry his weight for some measly housework. The very next day that you left the house, staying somewhere who knows where, he bought a dishwasher and hired a cleaner. Try as he might to do the housework just to please you, he knows that his time won’t allow it. So, he tried his best to work around it with the hopes that you’ll come back, but where were you?

He has called your number multiple times after giving you enough space but no calls were returned. You were coming back to him, right? You won’t leave him, right?

You’ll still love him, right? You will. Ghost smiles softly to himself, kissing the ring while a shy tear slips. “You’ll look so pretty with this ring, darling…” he whispers to the presence that he tricked himself was still there.

꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱: this is so long overdue. Sorry for the person who requested this because it took me this long!! 📩

dividers by @cafekitsune

Please reblog!! Ask is open!

check out my other works in the masterlist: ୭!

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bellaxgiornata · 2 days

Text

Falling For the Devil [Part ninety-four: "The Offer"]

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader Word Count: 2.7k

Summary: Karen, Marci, and you go shopping for the upcoming gala.

Karen presents you with an interesting offer.

[Series of one-shots about Reader meeting, falling for, and dating Matt Murdock.] [FFTD Series Masterlist]

Warnings: 18+ for this series; contains humor, fluff, romance, angst, smut, violence

a/n: So I split this part off of the gala smut installment that will be coming up next because I didn't want the smut to overshadow everything else. But hey, that means more installments! Also, tumblr is messing with my tag lists again so I apologize if they aren't working properly. Feedback is always appreciated!

Tag List: @ninacotte @mattkinsella @stilldreaming666 @murdocksclient @madscamp02 @1988-fiend @linamarr @pinkratts @schneeflocky @acharliecoxedfan @yarrystyleeza @theetherealbloom @danzer8705 @lionalsowrites @harperdoodle @kmc1989 @lunaticgurly @mattmurdocks6thscaleapartment @pazii @kezibear @sleepysleepymom @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction @babygirlmurdock @theoraekenslover @wanda-maxamommy @justanerd1

Picking up a fairly simple shoe from the display shelf that had caught your eye, you warily examined the three inch heel on the back of it. You didn't want to get anything that looked too dangerous for you to walk in at the gala this weekend, afraid you'd only end up embarrassing Matt and yourself if you did. Walking in heels certainly wasn’t your strong suit and you weren’t about to pretend that it was just to look a certain way in order to fit in at the event. But while you stood there studying the shoe in your hands, turning it from side to side inspecting it, a bright gold heel appeared in your line of sight. Your eyes immediately widened at the stiletto heel next to the slightly more sensible shoe in your hand.

“I hope you're showing me that as an option for yourself, Marc,” you said, glancing up at her beside you. “Because I would absolutely break my neck wearing those.”

Marci scoffed, rolling her eyes at you. “Oh please,” she replied. “You wouldn't break your neck in these.”

You shot her a pointed look, a brow arching up onto your forehead. Slowly you watched as her expression shifted to one of doubt and uncertainty, her eyes dropping back down to the heel in her hand. Eventually she let out a defeated sigh, the heel lowering back to her side.

“Okay, it's likely you might sprain your ankle in them,” she conceded. “But then Matt could just carry you around all night, right? Do you really mean to tell me you wouldn't want that?”

“I'd rather him carry me around under different, less embarrassing circumstances,” you told her. “Not because I bought six inch heels that are the width of a toothpick under the assumption that I could spend an evening walking in them. Because we all know I can’t.”

“Fine,” Marci relented.

She turned, walking away to put the shoe back on the display shelf from where she’d found it. Your attention returned to the black heel in your hands as you once more contemplated your ability to survive in them for an entire evening. They didn’t look too intimidating–especially after the heel Marci had just suggested.

“What about these?” Karen asked.

Glancing over your shoulder at the sound of her voice, you focused on the deep red heels she was holding up in her hand. They were stunning, you had to admit it. The color wasn't anything too crazy bright so it wouldn't stand out horribly against the black dress you'd already bought earlier today. Plus, they were almost the exact same shade of red as Matt’s Daredevil suit, a detail you figured he'd probably enjoy even if he couldn't see them himself.

“You don't have to get black shoes just because the dress you bought is black,” Karen pointed out. “And the heels on these don't look too scary do they?”

“No,” you answered slowly, setting down the shoe in your hand and turning towards her. “They don't.”

You stepped over to where she’d been standing, reaching a hand out and accepting the heel from her outstretched one before examining it closer. She was right, they truthfully didn't look all that intimidating in comparison to most of the other heels in this high end store. Certainly more manageable than the gold heel Marci had just suggested.

“Ohh, I like those,” Marci said, appearing over your shoulder and eyeing the shoe. “Definitely not too plain. I prefer these over those black ones you were just looking at. Nothing wrong with adding a little bit of color.”

“Okay, then. You’ve both convinced me,” you told them. “I’ll see if they have a pair in my size.”

With the shoe in hand, you made your way over towards a rather bored looking sales associate and asked for your size. Briefly they disappeared into a back room, eventually returning a minute later with the nicest shoe box you'd ever seen in your life. Which probably meant the price on them was something absolutely absurd, but so was the budget Matt had more than graciously given you for your day of shopping today. Something you were still confused about him doing since his sole reasoning was just that he wanted you to enjoy your evening with him at the gala.

Thanking the store associate politely, you took the shoe box and headed back over to the row of chairs near where Karen and Marci were still shopping. But as you neared the pair of them you overheard the loud, almost dramatic sigh that Marci had released. Slowly lowering yourself down into one of the chairs, you raised a brow at her curiously.

“What was that about?” you asked her.

“I have been dying for someone to just bring it up all day–just to touch the topic even once –but no one has. So I guess I’m just going to do it myself,” she answered you. “Are we ever going to address the fact that you’re dating Frank?”

Her eyes pointedly focused on Karen when she’d asked the question. Karen, who had been eyeing a pair of dark green heels, slowly began to set them back down as Marci’s perfect brows shot up onto her forehead questioningly. Without further pause Marci continued on, clearly determined to cover the topic of Karen’s new boyfriend.

“Because I've been waiting all day for the opportunity to talk about it, especially with hearing Foggy tell me all week about the office arguments your love life has been causing,” Marci explained. “I figured when I took the day off of work and joined you both for this girl's shopping trip that we would be all over this topic today but no one has brought it up. Not even once. But I mean, you're dating that Frank. You don’t think we want the details? Like… why are you dating him?”

Your eyes flew over to Karen, watching as her shoulders dropped as if she'd been expecting this subject to be brought up at some point today. Truthfully you were a bit surprised no one had mentioned anything until now as well, but you figured Karen just didn't want to risk being lectured once again. You could only imagine how much she’d had to deal with that from Matt all week already.

Silently you watched as Karen blew out a breath, turning on her heel and making her way over to take a seat in one of the cushioned armchairs beside you, her arms crossed over her chest as she moved. Marci hurried over after her and settled down into the chair on the other side of Karen. With rapt attention she rested her elbows on the armrest and leaned in towards her, clearly waiting for the details.

“Alright, we might as well get this over with,” Karen said flatly. “Yes, I am dating that Frank. No, he's not insane. He's actually incredibly sweet, protective, and has a big heart. And I didn't rush into things with him either, despite what Matt might try to tell you,” she continued, looking back at you and rolling her eyes a little. “There's been something there between us for years but Frank never wanted to explore anything more because he thought me being with him would put me in danger. But he also wasn't entirely at a point where he was ready to open up to someone else in that sort of way after…well…everything that had happened with his family.”

“So does he still…do that?” Marci asked carefully. “You know the uh…activities he’s been known for?”

Karen’s gaze dropped to her hands in her lap, her blonde hair curtaining her face a little. “Yeah, but not to that extent. Matt won't exactly let him–which is for the best, don’t get me wrong,” she added quickly. “But he's an ex-marine who'd been taught how to do exactly that from his time when he was in the military. I can’t exactly blame him for defaulting to what the government trained him to do, especially considering that the people who were on the receiving end honestly kind of deserved it for what they did to his family.”

Marci shifted in her seat, peering around Karen and focusing on you. One of her blonde brows arched up onto her forehead again. “And what're your thoughts on this?” she asked.

You shrugged lightly, both women now focused on you. The heels you'd been about to try on were currently forgotten on the floor by your feet with the conversation that had arisen.

“I mean, we all know how Matt spends some of his evenings,” you answered her. “It’s not like he hasn't done his fair share of similar things to criminals in the name of keeping the city safe. In some ways it would be hypocritical of me to view Frank differently–even if he has, you know, crossed a line that Matt very much refuses to cross.”

“So you just…are indifferent about this?” Marci asked curiously.

“Not exactly, but I don’t really know the guy,” you replied. “I trust Karen’s judgment though. I’d like to think she wouldn’t date someone who truly wasn’t a good person at heart, even if it's difficult for the rest of us to understand. And if this is something that’s been developing slowly over the years, I have no idea what’s happened between the two of them. Plus, I doubt any of us saying anything based on what we know from the media about Frank would actually change her view, because I know that alone wouldn’t make me suddenly walk away from Matt.”

“Exactly,” Karen stated, shooting you a smile. “He’s not the man the media painted him to be. There’s vastly more depth and heart to him. And he’s saved my life multiple times now– and Matt’s recently.”

A bout of nerves unexpectedly broke free in your stomach, a cold fear steadily unfurling in your gut at her words. You knew Matt put himself in danger going out as Daredevil the nights he did, that was nothing new, but hearing that Frank had saved his life recently certainly had an effect on you. Were those two getting involved in something dangerous in the evenings now? Involved in something you knew nothing about? Because you hadn’t heard Matt mention anything specific to you before, though you’d noticed he’d been a little more on edge some nights when he returned home.

“Well,” Marci said, sitting back in her chair, “I guess I’m just glad Fog doesn’t put on some funny little suit and run around at night like your men do. I don’t think I’d be as calm about it if he did.” Her head turned towards Karen as she focused on her again, her eyes narrowing curiously. “Is Frank coming to the gala, by the way? As your date?”

Karen laughed loudly, shaking her head. “No, absolutely not. He wanted nothing to do with it to begin with, and I’m pretty sure Matt would have an aneurysm if he did show his face. He says it’s because of the firm’s image, but I know there’s more to it than that.”

“Guess I’ll have to meet him another time, then,” Marci said in defeat. She looked past Karen, gesturing a hand at the shoebox by your feet. “Are you going to try those on then?”

Remembering the box on the floor, you glanced back down at it, though your mind was truthfully still on the comment Karen had made about Frank having recently saved Matt’s life. That growing fear of yours about Matt finding himself in danger and you being absolutely useless to do anything to help him suddenly hit you hard. Chewing the inside of your cheek, you felt your mood sour as you bent over and removed the lid from off the shoebox. The satin sheen of the dark red heels glistened in the overhead light, but all you could see was Matt in his suit, his body lying motionless somewhere in an alley surrounded by a pool of blood. Your stomach lurched and you bit the inside of your cheek even harder.

Karen leaned over in her chair, gently placing a hand on your forearm. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked softly.

Shifting your attention towards her, you caught the look of concern etched across her features. Behind her, you’d noticed that Marci had already risen to her feet and returned to browsing the selection of heels.

“Yeah,” you answered, your eyes returning to Karen. “It’s just…you mentioned Frank saving Matt’s life recently and it had me thinking about something again.”

Karen’s blue eyes narrowed back at you. “About what?” she asked curiously.

You sighed, once more ignoring the shoes in front of you before sitting back in the chair and focusing on her. “Do you ever feel like maybe you’re…helpless?” you began carefully. “I mean now that you’re dating Frank? Even though I know things are still new between you both.” Shaking your head, you quickly added, “I mean, I know he doesn’t have the same urge to run around like some sort of superhero that Matt often has, but I can’t help but worry that if he ever actually needed help–or was in trouble or something–that I couldn't do anything. I haven’t been able to shake this fear that I just…wouldn’t be able to help him, you know? Because I'm not like him. I can't do what he does. I can’t really do anything.”

Karen’s head tilted a little to the side, something contemplative reflecting in her eyes as she studied you in silence for a moment. You wondered if she was going to tell you that you were being ridiculous until she finally spoke.

“No, I’ve definitely felt helpless before,” she answered softly. “Even before dating Frank. And I’ve certainly had it cross my mind that being with him could land me in the middle of something dangerous. Unlike Matt, he doesn’t exactly hide who he is when he goes out and does his thing. But that’s actually why I’ve had him training me in some self-defense and–” she paused, her eyes darting over to Marci who was clearly still very ignorant of this entire conversation, “–taking me to a shooting range lately. To practice.”

Surprise washed over you at her words. So Frank had been training her? To fight and shoot guns?

“You know,” she continued slowly, her eyes still carefully studying you, “if you want, I could see if he’d be willing to teach you, too. If it would make you feel a little better, I mean. Make you feel a little safer or more capable or whatever. I’m sure Frank wouldn’t mind.”

A nervous laugh slipped out of your mouth before you immediately cut it off, shaking your head firmly at the mere suggestion. There was no way in hell Matt would ever be okay with you doing that. If anyone was going to teach you self-defense, it would be him. Though, he’d only taught you some very basic things before he’d stopped, saying that you didn’t need to learn anything further. Because he always claimed that he’d be there to keep you safe–a promise you knew he couldn’t realistically keep. And one that completely ignored your fear about keeping him safe.

“Yeah, I really don’t think Matt would like that,” you told her. “He’s afraid of me getting too close to Frank for some reason. Doesn’t want to risk me getting hurt or something, I’m not sure. But I know Frank teaching me how to tie my damn shoe would start a fight. Hell, me breathing the same air in the same room as Frank would probably start a fight between us. One I’m not sure I need to deal with.”

Karen shrugged lightly in response before rising up out of her chair. “He doesn’t exactly have to know,” she pointed out. “At least, not at first. It’s not like Frank and I can’t keep a secret if it would make you feel better. I can’t imagine Matt would be all that mad at you for learning how to take care of yourself a little more after it's already happened. But it’s entirely up to you. I’m just throwing the offer out there.”

Your gaze dropped down to the dark red heels before you. The image of Matt's lifeless and bloody body in his suit laying all alone in an alley returned to your mind. You winced at the mental image.

“Thanks, Karen,” you replied, eyes still on the heels in the box. “I’ll uh, keep the offer in mind, I guess.”

#matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock angst #matt murdock #daredevil #matt murdock series

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storiesforallfandoms · 2 days

Text

the ice cream girl ~ mike schmidt;five nights at freddy's

word count: 2144

request?: no

description: in which his regular ice cream spot in the mall hires a new girl

pairing: mike schmidt x female!reader

warnings: use of y/n

masterlist (one, two, three)

Mike's routine at the mall was a constant: clock in, do two laps around the mall, go for lunch with whoever else was on with him - usually Jeremiah - another few laps around the mall where he'd stop to talk to some of the store managers, then clock out and go home. The only deviations to his routine were the occasional birthday parties he'd be tasked with watching over, and whenever there was someone who needed to be handled by security.

Until he met a new worker at the mall.

He was in line for the ice cream place he would occasionally go to for a dessert after his lunch. They saw him so frequently that his order was usually ready before he even got to the counter - another usual in his routine.

But on this day, when he walked up to the counter, a new face was smiling at him.

"Welcome to Ice Cream Parties," she said. "What can I get for you?"

Mike opened his mouth to respond, but was cut off by Cindy, one of the usual workers, saying, "We have his order, (Y/N). He's a regular."

(Y/N)'s eyes flickered to Mike's security uniform. "Well, that does make sense. Sorry, today's my first day."

"No, that's alright," Mike said. He desperately tried to think of something else to say, but found himself staring blankly at her instead. He was sure she thought he was crazy, and that thought made his face start to heat up.

Cindy came up to the counter with Mike's usual in hand. She passed it over to him with a smile before going back to work. Mike realized then that he hadn't paid yet. As he started taking his wallet from his pocket, (Y/N) said, "On the house."

"Are you sure?" Mike asked.

She nodded. "Consider it a kind gesture for a regular."

"Well...thanks."

"No problem. It's nice to meet you, Mike."

He was about to ask how she knew his name, but she nodded to his name tag before he could.

Right, that would make sense.

"Nice to meet you, too, (Y/N)."

After that, visits to Ice Cream Parties became part of Mike's routine. The first few visits were under the guise of actually getting ice cream for himself and Jeremiah. If it wasn't too busy, he was able to have brief conversations with (Y/N) while his order was being made. That excuse didn't last very long, though, as eventually Jeremiah put an end to the almost daily ice cream runs.

"Man, I'm going to gain like 10 pounds a week if you keep getting ice cream for us," he had said.

Mike had to admit, he was getting sick of eating ice cream so much, too. Seeing (Y/N) so often had made it worth it at first, but there was only so much of the frozen treat he could take before it became too much. He thought he'd have to come up with a new excuse to see her all the time, but she took him by surprise by doing it for him.

He was doing his rounds during a shift when he saw (Y/N) walking towards him. She had a smile on her face and she waved when he spotted her.

"Hey!" she said. "I've been looking for you?"

"You have?" Mike asked.

"Yeah! I haven't seen you in a bit. I was worried you quit or something."

"God, no, that's not happening. This is probably the easiest job I could have. I've just...been taking a break from ice cream."

"I don't blame you. You've had so much of it lately, I'm surprised you're not just a walking ice cream cone at this point." She playfully bumped his shoulder as she added, "You know, if you wanted to talk to me, you didn't need an excuse."

Mike was shocked into silence. Had it really been that obvious? He had tried to play it cool when he went, but maybe he hadn't been cool enough. Maybe it had been glaringly obvious every time he walked up to the counter and ordered whatever new flavor she recommended that he was desperately trying to figure out a way to ask her on a date.

But then she smiled and laughed, and Mike felt a weight being lifted from his chest.

"I'm joking," she said. "Mostly. If you wanna talk to me, you don't need to come buy ice cream. Just come talk to me."

"Noted," Mike said with a nod. "Well...what are you doing this evening?"

"I'm working the closing shift."

Mike tried not to let his disappointment show. "Oh. I, uh, I'm off in about an hour."

"I clock in in about an hour."

"Not meant to be, I guess."

(Y/N) shrugged. "I guess not. I have to run a quick errand before work, but I mean what I said - don't be a stranger, Mike."

Mike nodded. Once (Y/N) had turned and walked away, he let himself deflate. It wasn't a "no" because she wasn't interested, but it was still disheartening. It was definitely going to take time to build up his courage to ask her again, but at least now he knew she welcomed his company.

A week or so later, Mike found himself at the mall again on his day off. He usually hated to be there when he wasn't working, but Abby started school the next week and she needed new clothes. She had been begging him for weeks to take her shopping, but he kept putting it off until he had no choice but to take her. On the plus side, Abby was extremely easy to shop with because she knew what she wanted, and she knew where to get it. It would be a quick in and out and he could be away from the mall within an hour and a half tops.

But, after leaving Abby's favorite store with the intent on going home, Abby stopped Mike and said, "I'm hungry."

"We have food at home," he reminded her.

"I don't want actual food. I want a snack."

"We have snacks at home."

"We don't have ice cream at home."

That was enough to shut him up and get him to agree. He had no idea if (Y/N) was working that day, but he wasn't about to pass up an opportunity to see her.

As luck would have it, she was working. She was at the counter in her stripped apron and white paper hat. She was passing the customer in front of them an ice cream, her customer service smile plastered on her face. Mike had come to learn the difference between her customer service smile and her real smile, because when she would look at him the dull smile would brighten just a little.

When the customer stepped away, he got to see her face light up at the sight of him.

"Oh, hey Mike!" she said. "I thought you were off today."

"I am. I had to take my sister back to school shopping," Mike said, gesturing to Abby.

(Y/N) looked down at Abby and offered her a warm smile. "Well hey there. I had no idea Mike had a sister."

"This is Abby. Abby, this is (Y/N)."

"It's nice to meet you, Abby."

"You too," Abby said. To Mike she added, "Is she the one you always talk to Max about?"

Mike's ears were on fire as (Y/N) looked back up at him. Abby always knew how to say the right things to embarrass him.

"Just tell her what you want," he muttered, suddenly no longer in the mood for ice cream.

Abby ordered for herself and (Y/N) went to make it. Cindy took over at the cash while (Y/N) stepped away, which disappointed Mike. Usually Cindy was the one making the orders while (Y/N) was at the cash, and they'd have their small conversations while Mike waited. He really hoped what Abby had said hadn't scared (Y/N) off completely.

She came back and handed Abby her ice cream.

"Are you guys sticking around much longer?" she asked Mike.

"We weren't really planning on it. Abby just wanted ice cream before we went home."

"I'm off in, like, 10 minutes. If you guys don't mind a third, I mean."

Mike agreed without consulting Abby. Not like the younger girl really cared either way. She was already deep into her ice cream and ignoring the whole conversation.

Mike and Abby sat at a nearby table to wait for (Y/N). Abby finished her ice cream in record time, giving herself a brain freeze. Mike couldn't help but laugh as his sister scrunched up her face in pain.

"That's why you don't eat cold foods that fast," he said.

"Do you like (Y/N)?" Abby asked through the brain freeze pain.

The quick change in topic startled Mike. "I mean...yeah. She's my friend."

"But you like her," Abby said. "You always talk about her, and I saw the way you look at her."

Mike shrugged, trying not to give Abby any other ideas. He didn't need her blurting something else out and embarrassing him again. "She's a friend, Abby. Friends talk about friends."

"Friends don't look at other friends like they want to kiss them, though."

Mike chuckled. "Some do."

Abby gave him a look. He sighed and said, "Maybe I do, but that doesn't give you permission to say stuff to her about it, okay? For now, we're just friends."

"You should ask her out. I think she'd say yes."

"It's not that easy, Abs."

"What's not that easy?"

Mike jumped at the sound of (Y/N)'s voice behind him. When he looked at her, she was already changed out of her work uniform. "Nothing. Abby and I were just talking."

He shot Abby a look to tell her not to say anything. (Y/N) looked between the two of them with a skeptical look on her face.

"Do you have a ride home?" Mike asked.

"If you're offering, then yes. I was supposed to wait around for my roommate to get me, but I'd much rather hang out with you guys and get out of here."

The three of them walked to Mike's car. Abby filled most of the silence by talking to (Y/N) about whatever came to her little mind. (Y/N) just smiled and responded as Abby spoke. Mike would sneak glances at her and smile to himself.

Abby got into the car first, and as Mike was reaching for the door handle to get in himself, (Y/N) said, "Wait."

He paused and looked up at her, confused.

"Why haven't you asked me out yet, Mike?"

The question took him completely by surprise, but that seemed to be her specialty at this point. He opened his mouth to respond, but all that came out was some stuttered nonsense.

"I mean, if you don't like me then that's fine, I get it," she continued. "But I thought that maybe we had a connection, and I keep thinking you're going to ask me out and then you don't, and I'll be honest, I'm losing my mind a little bit."

"Whoa, whoa," Mike said. "Slow down. I'm sorry that's how you're feeling, but I've been trying to ask you out. I did ask you out a few weeks ago!"

"That wasn't asking me out! You asked what I was doing and I said working. You didn't even follow up to try and figure out a different day we could've went out instead!"

"I didn't know I was supposed to do that!"

They both paused and, after a moment, they started to laugh.

"I'm clueless with this stuff," Mike admitted. "I haven't dated since high school."

"Well, here's a tip: if you like a girl, ask her out. Her liking you back is more likely than you'd think."

Mike smiled. "Do you want to come over for dinner? I'm sure it's not exactly the date you're thinking of, but Abby wants spaghetti and meatballs tonight, and I do make a mean spaghetti and meatballs."

(Y/N) smiled back. It was brighter than her real smile. It was what Mike decided to dub her "Mike smile".

"I'd love to," she said. "I love spaghetti and meatballs."

Abby opened her car door then and looked between the two of them. "What's taking you so long?"

"Hey Abs, would it be okay if (Y/N) joined us for dinner?" Mike asked, although he already knew the answer.

Abby lit up with excitement and vigorously nodded her head. Mike and (Y/N) finally got into the car and they made their way back to Mike's place. The entire car ride he couldn't wipe the smile from his face.

#mike schmidt #mike schmidt imagine #mike schmidt x reader #josh hutcherson #josh hutcherson x reader #josh hutcherson imagine #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #fnaf imagine #imagine #one shot #fanfiction #fanfic #fandom

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heartstringsduet · 3 days

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Happy Wednesday. 💞 Thanks for tagging me last Sunday and yesterday. My brain is still trying to compure anything in general but I'm excited to read them and your snippets if you want to share today. I hope you're all ready for some spice of the next First Aid chapter. thanks for tagging me @carlos-in-glasses

“Don’t you mean ‘make love to you’?” Carlos teases and means all the same. From the last hour together, he had imagined taking their time in the warmth of TK’s bed, continuing with sweetness clogging both of their throats.

“No, I meant fuck me,” TK says under a breath. His eyes go wide like he surprises himself with how demanding he sounded. “But we don’t have to. Whatever you-”

Carlos surges forward then to stop TK before he can propose to go along with anything but what he actually wants.

“Fuck you where? Right here?” He asks against the shell of TK’s ear. “Do you want me to drive you against the kitchen island? Make you come on the countertop?” His hand slides into the wide leg of TK’s shorts and roughly massages the soft skin of his thighs. TK's breathing picks up. “Tell me exactly what you want me to do to you.”

Pupils wides, TK stares at him with unmatched hunger. He releases his cherry bitten lips and closes them. There is something on the tip of his tongue that he doesn’t seem able to form into words.

“I want to hear anything you fantasize about,” Carlos encourages again, then licks up the tendon of his neck.

TK shivers. “I want you… to rip off my clothes and suck me.”

“Here?”

“Right here. Nice and slow.”

Caros’ cock pulses. His hips move of their own volition, driving his his filling cock into the cabinets to get friction, even at the cost of pain. “What else?”

TK hesitates then says, “Drive your long fingers into me.” He fists Carlos’ shirt. “One by one, until I’m full of you.”

“And?”

“And make me take them until I beg you to fuck me into the counter.”

It’s not how Carlos thought today would go, not like he longs for gentleness himself right now but he still finds his blood boiling at knowing TK trusts him enough to ask for what he really wants.

Instead it's reminiscent of the first few times they hooked up, back when they barely knew each other and filth came at no detriment. Carlos grabs TK’s healthy foot dangling down beside his body and brings it between his own legs. TK immediately understands, raising his leg so the shin rests against Carlos’ bulge. Carlos gives a tentative buck, in a way that makes him see stars. TK moans too, attuned to him.

Open Tag <3

@welcometololaland @rmd-writes @carlos-tk @cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut

@birdclowns @whatsintheboxmh @lightningboltreader @alrightbuckaroo

@lemonlyman-dotcom @ladytessa74 @strandnreyes @reyesstrand

@paperstorm @orchidscript @freneticfloetry @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad

@sznofthesticks @goodways @decafdino @eclectic-sassycoweyes

@liminalmemories21 @sanjuwrites @bonheur-cafe @thisbuildinghasfeelings

@honeybee-taskforce @louis-ii-reyes-strand @kiwichaeng @safeaswrites

@never-blooms @theghostofashton

#michelle writes #tarlos fic #wip wednesday #first aid #if anyone remembers part of this snippet...yeah that's how much I fucking change for this fic LOL #I feel like I wrote an extra 50k in changes by now #ANYWAYYYYYYYYY editing this beast this week

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tsukimefuku · 3 days

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fixing broken things ❖ nanami kento

summary: after you realize that everything you were taking care of just wound up crooked anyway, you're pissed and needs a helping hand in order to not let the anger get the better of you.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, sorcerer and kind of gardener f!reader, gardening, light nanami x reader, implied past higuruma x reader, nanami is very kind in his own way, hurt and comfort, some angst, some fluff.

wc: 1K

notes etc.: if you feel like reading a prequel to this, here's crooked gardening. i just randomly had the idea for this one and decided to jot it down. it's barely proofread. wrote it to the sound of we're all eating each other/the thing of life (juliet ivy)

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

You were pissed. There was no sugar-coating it.

Many of the sprouts on the flower bed you planted a while ago had their skewers pulled out or broken — apparently by accident, or from people stepping on them without meaning to — and that would take a huge time to fix.

You remembered the talk you had with Higuruma — you were back to calling him by his last name, at least for these past few days right after his departure — where you told him you were good at fixing crooked things.

What a joke.

If you really were, would he have left?

Mindlessly, you conjured one of your grenades, and considered for a moment exploding the entire flowerbed out of pure spite and anger. The unexplainable urge of destroying something, and repay the unending pain the world seemed hellbent in dropping over your shoulders.

Just another pointless heartache to carry around, as if you didn't have enough of those already.

You got your hand closer to the flowerbed, but before dropping the tiny grenade, you realized there was an invisible veil you simply couldn't rupture.

There was no crossing it, your body was preventing you from going beyond that imaginary line and blowing up a bunch of flowers you planted and nurtured yourself with such care, even if it were to plant new ones in their place.

There was no escaping the roots that had already taken hold.

"Good afternoon," you heard an already familiar voice say behind you. "Why are you holding one of your grenades?"

Sighing, you dissipated it, patting your hands on your pants to clean them from the dirt.

"I… I don't know, Nanami," you replied bitterly as you stood up.

He knew Higuruma left a few days ago, having talked to the sorcerer himself, and noticed you were obviously still processing his departure. Respectful as he was, Nanami avoided contacting you to offer assistance — he knew that, in case you did want it, you'd talk to him first. You were the type of person who usually needed some space and alone time to process things.

But at that moment, Nanami became slightly concerned, seeing you using your cursed technique at the HQ premises, given it had quite the destructive potential.

You turned on your heels and stomped your feet towards the nearest bench, sitting on it with a sour face. Your arms were crossed, and your anger kept building up with no relief. If only you could find it in yourself to blow up, at least this fucking once.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize that Nanami sat by your side.

He looked at his wristwatch and sighed before speaking.

"I have exactly 17 minutes before leaving for my next mission."

And then, there he stood, impassively waiting for you to speak up about what was going on.

"I wanted to blow up that flower bed."

He looked at you, and inquired, with no judgement in his voice, "why?"

"Because… Because some flowers are crooked, and I planted them, and I'm fucking supposed to be good at fixing crooked things, but fuck me, I guess I'm just… I don't know, Nanami. I don't fucking know," you blurted out, equal parts bitter and defeated. "I wanted to just destroy them and plant something else in their place."

"I see."

"Well, apparently, I'm not even good at doing that, because I couldn't do it. I just… couldn't."

"Why do you think that is?" He asked you, pushing his glasses into position.

"I have no idea," you spat, "do you have any? I could do with some enlightenment, or lecture, or whatever the hell you could throw at me right now. I'm tired of people leav…" you thought for a moment. "No, I guess that's it. I'm tired of people."

He huffed.

"People can be tiring."

"Yeah…" you were feeling a little less out of sorts, and the sadness began taking hold of the anger's place. "So, why couldn't I destroy anything?"

"You couldn't do it because you're not someone who breaks things."

You were a little puzzled, and said, "Nanami, my technique is literally casting grenades to blow things up. I'm pretty good at that — breaking and destroying things, I mean."

Nanami sighed and removed his glasses, turning his face to look at you.

"Not only that. You're also capable of applying reverse cursed technique on other people, so you carry both within you. The potential for breaking and for fixing."

You huffed, and looked at your feet as you asked, imitating his usual voice cadence, "is that so?"

"It is. But not only that. Your rage rarely pulls you down. It pushes you forward."

"What do you mean?"

You looked back at him at that moment.

"When your parents left, or when you lost people close to you, and when you were at that village. These were the many instances where you could have simply given up, but you chose to preserve your family legacy, to become a healer and to save a child. For a sorcerer that deals with negativity and death on a daily basis, you choose to bring out the best from the worst instead."

You were silent, taking in what Nanami was saying, and he proceeded.

"As it stands to reason, you wouldn’t use your pain or anger to destroy anything. You’d use it as fuel."

"For what?"

"Keep fixing broken things."

You huffed, an almost chuckle.

"Thanks for the compliments, I guess."

"Those weren't compliments, I simply stated facts," he answered, putting his glasses back on.

You acquiesced.

"Yeah, forgot you did that."

You got up on your feet and stood there for a moment, before turning towards him and saying, "thank you, Nanami."

He bowed his head, and got up himself.

"See you around?"

"See you around," he replied, sparing you a discreet smile before walking away.

You stepped towards the flower bed and looked at it, fully aware that just bursting everything away and starting from scratch would be easier. However, you sat on the ground and started pulling the broken skewers off, determined to put new ones in place, realizing this would take a lot of effort and time.

Grunting, you began mumbling to yourself, displeased and somewhat happily defeated for the first time in days.

Fucking Nanami, always fucking right about fucking things.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk fanfic #nanami kento #jjk nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami #nanami x reader #kento nanami #nanami kento fluff #jjk fluff #jujutsu fluff #nanami x you #nanami kento x you #kento x reader #jujutsu partners au #fuku writes

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fanofstuff02 · 1 day

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Ii… Know I said I’ll post the next chapter of Adamsapple x Chaggie yesterday but I remembered one idea I had and worked on it. I’m sorry :< I’ll post it I promise.

The thing I worked on on the other hand… It’s an one shot inspired from this ask on @rius-cave ‘s account (read it from here) where an anon suggested the idea of Lucifer and Adam fighting so bad that Adam ends up in Angel’s room crying.

Enjoy! (Also would you mind if I tagged you @things-arent-what-they-seem66 and @talesfromawannabejournalist ?)

Angel was getting ready to sleep when he heard a slight knock on his door, like the person behind it was doubting their decision to come here.

“I don’t know who you are but you better have a good fucking reason to be here this late.” He said to the door.

“Angel? Can I come in?” Someone spoke with a shaky voice.

Adam.

He opened the door, only to be met with a devastated sight of his friend. He looked like someone stole something from him. Heck, he must’ve been seriously off, he wasn’t even hiding his third eye on his forehead.

“Woah, what happened big guy?”

I was wondering if I could stay here tonight.?”

“Sure, but why?” Angel said, letting him in.

“Lucifer can’t come here unless you allow him to right?” He leaned against a wall, taking his head in his hands.

“Yeah, I guess..” So he did something…

“Let’s get you a beanbag..” He muttered to himself, walked to his closet but stopped when he heard a sob coming behind him.

The sinner, curled up in a ball with his wings wrapped around him, was crying silently. He sat down beside him quickly and began rubbing circles to his back.

“Hey… It’s okay. You don’t have to hide yourself. Let it out.”

“I-I can’t cry..” He was shaking. Fucking shaking.

“What?! Of course you can, everyone can!”

“Not me! I’m the man, not the pussy!” His wings revealed him, he was trying desperately to end the tears with wiping them violently. “I can’t let feelings-“

“Hey.” He held his wrists and hugged him. “I told you to let it out.”

That did it. He didn’t care anymore. He cried loudly to his chest. His tears were colder than anyone could ever have.

They stayed in the same position for a while, Angel awkwardly patting his back as he thought of what to do. Sure, he could try to comfort him, but it’d probably make him feel worse. Maybe this’d be enough for the sinner?

Who the fuck was he kidding? He needed someone to do it properly. And he knew just who it was. He whistled quietly, and took his pet in his hands. Adam let go of the hug and looked at who came.

“As much as I’d like to make you feel better, I suck at it Ad. But, I have someone else. Would you like to hug Nuggets?” He held him to Adam, and the upset demon took him. He licked his face softly, getting a chuckle and a hiccup from him. He hugged him tightly. He seemed a bit calmer but there were still lots of tears coming out of his eyes. Angel put a hand on his shoulder.

“You don’t have to tell me what happened, but if you want to, I’m here.”

———

Lucifer walked down at the hallway, going to Angel Dust’s room. He was looking for a certain demon, and Charlie suggested he should go and check Angel Dust’s room. The spider and him had some sort of a friendship after all.

He needed to apologize. No, more than apologize, he probably needed to get him his favorite meal, take him to a rock concert and shit like that. He could do those later, but first he needed to see if he was okay and talk the things he said out.

There he was, standing at the doorstep. He knocked it softly, hoping he wasn’t waking the pornstar up.

A tired Angel opened the door, but his attitude completely changed when he saw the King of Hell. He was looking at him with ice-cold eyes, and they also held a little bit… Anger?

“What can I do for you Your Highness?” He said simply, wanting the King to go away. Adam didn’t need him at this moment.

“Uhh, Is Adam here?” He said, trying to look inside the room. But Angel just spawned two extra arms to block the view, standing infront of the short guy.

“Yes he is. But he is sleeping. I suggest you to come at the morning. It’s the middle of the night right now.”

“I see, but can I please at least see hi-“

“No. No you can’t.”

“But you just told me he was-?”

“Yes, he is. He fell asleep while crying because of you. And I doubt that he wants the person, who made him pour his fucking heart to me, near him even if he is sleeping. So why don't you just leave him alone, like everyone else did. After all,” He placed his finger on Lucifer’s chest, near his heart. That's what he deserves, right Your Highness?”

“Come on Angel, I didn’t mean it! I wasn’t thinking when I-”

“That’s always what they say.” He hmphed. “If you seriously want the better of him, then go the fuck away. And come back, when you see him more than a toy or a pet you can play around and threw away when you get bored. Good night, Lucifer.” He shut the door in his face.

Lucifer backed away, looking at the door shocked.

Adam, who hated crying and showing ‘girly’ emotions, poured his heart out to another demon, because of what he said?

This wasn’t right. Right, they were having an argument, and sure, maybe it got a little out of hand, but… But it couldn’t hurt Adam that much.

Right?

—

Angel leaned against the door. God, he wasn’t going to deny he was quite surprised how he could find the courage to do this, but he knew Lucifer wouldn’t dare hurt Charlie’s clients.

Well, he is the wrong one after all. He peeked at his bed, where the demon he wanted to see was. Fat Nuggets was lying and probably sleeping near him, like he wanted to be there just in case he’d wake up crying again. Sometimes Angel could swore he was a literal angel.

He groaned, he needed a few things or atleast a glass of water, but he also didn’t wanted to leave Adam alone.

It’ll be quick. Just five minutes. He got up and opened the door, checking for Lucifer. When he couldn’t see him, he rushed to the kitchen.

Lucifer waited for him to dissapear from the curtain he was hiding in, and sneaked to his room. He hoped the magic wouldn’t work since Angel wasn’t in his room.

It didn’t.

Oh but how much Lucifer would want it to do.

Adam was there, in Angel’s bed, sleeping with the pig-pet near him. Looking horrible. His cheeks were puffy red, and still wet. His hair was messed up, his other eye wasn’t hidden like it mostly was, one of his horns looked like it had a missing piece, and so many few more details formed the broken man infront of him. But worst of all, even though he was sleeping, he looked more like he just passed out.

He was hurt.

He was hurt because of him.

He did this.

He absentmindedly tried to placed a hand on his, but his hand stopped when he heard someone behind.

“Ahem. I believe I told you to, GO. THE. FUCK. AWAY.” Angel Dust whisper-yelled, as Lucifer refused to let go of Adam’s side.

“I can’t leave him like thi-“

“Oh but you said you should, right? THEN DO IT! I am not allowing you here!”

The king felt the command grip his throat. He walked out of the room and stood at the entrance. The sinner was now straight up angry, and he didn’t seemed to care Lucifer was superior to him.

“Angel, I-” He faced a door again, the spider didn’t even had something to say to him.

He sat down at the entrance. If he had to wait for the morning then he’d do it.

He needed to clean up his own mess.

————

This was supposed to be a little one shot help-

Should I make a sequel?

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel adam #hazbin hotel au #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin adam #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin angel dust #holydust #guitarduck #adamsapple

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alackofghosts · 2 days

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got tagged by tumblr user @fourteenthz (loved reading about thesa, by the way <3)! thank you very much!

— B A S I C S

name: lil guy i'm very shy, don't worry about it

nicknames: none based on his name, as it's quite short already, but will also respond to a fond and/or slightly exasperated "hero"

age: 33 as of 6.55

nameday: 27th sun of the 4th umbral moon

race: rava viera

gender: cis man

orientation: gay

profession: adventurer

— P H Y S I C A L A S P E C T

hair: black, naturally wavy, very thick and soft

eyes: dark brown

skin: warm brown, freckles easily, especially his face

tattoos: none

scars: burn scar on his left shoulder from his fight with ifrit, another burn on his right thigh from nidhogg. a few other scrapes here and there. notable lack of any significant scarring from shb and beyond, because that's how i see astrologian healing working - he feels particularly strange about not having a scar from his fight with zenos in endwalker

— F A M I L Y

parents: he has not been back to his home village, for obvious reasons, so doesn't know - but assumes - his mother is still alive and well; never met his biological dad. but because he showed signs of. however the viera would call/conceptualise the inner beast, one of the women called in a favour with a wood warder who was also a warrior, to take him under his wing to train. said wood warder, however, was wholly at a loss what to do with a child, having never taken in a ward before and decided to seek out an old friend, who had since left the forest. ...long story short, he ends up being raised by an all-viera dalmascan resistance cell, who end up packing up and leaving with him in tow after almost being rooted out by garlean forces. he views most of them as Parental Figures and loves them dearly, even if some of them have scattered into the winds after he left to become an adventurer

siblings: he isn't aware of any biological siblings, but the village took a very communal approach to raising kids, so at the time he definitely felt like the other kids were his siblings, regardless of any blood relations. one of the men in the resistance cell was a 'mere' 30 or so years older than him, so he also counts more as a sibling than anything else in his eyes

grandparents: he has definitely met his maternal grandmother, but as with his mother, he's not been back home and doesn't know if she is still alive (but in all likelihood: yes)

in laws and other: THE TWINS. putting an exact name to what alisaie and alphinaud mean to him would honestly not be Good or Close Enough, but they are absolutely like family to him and a reason to keep on going. he also has a very sibling-like relationship with lyse, who is always ready and willing to match his energy, tag along for workouts and tease the hell out of him

pets: he befriends an amaro hatchling at the crystarium during shadowbringers and during a later visit, her handler notes that she's been looking glum without him around. he loves animals, but his living situation has been far too chaotic after becoming an adventurer to accommodate an animal (that isn't his chocobo, who, at least, is much easier to house) and hasn't felt particularly inclined to change that. but after endwalker, he finds himself actually wanting to change that and has the time to do it... so, with a little bit of help from feo ul, he has a little amaro friend with him now

— S K I L L S

abilities: war + drk + pld and all that that entails. skilled and formidable fighter, good at navigating/strategising through a fight on the fly, quick study (as far as fighting is concerned, anyway)

hobbies: working out (especially running and swimming), hiking, he's been learning to enjoy fishing after endwalker

— T R A I T S

most positive traits: protective, caring, insatiable lust for life

most negative traits: too willing to let other people do the talking for him, impulsive, stubborn

— L I K E S

colours: warm red, gold, the bright green of sunlight filtering through leaves

smells: fresh earth, cinnamon, a meadow in early summer, the savoury smell of the stew one of his dads used to make

textures: soft grass under bare feet, tree bark, skin on skin, the scratch of ardbert's beard

drinks: water, pineapple juice, lemonade

— O T H E R D E T A I L S

smokes: no

drinks: only socially, and even then it's fairly rare. he did drink a little more often as a baby adventurer, mostly because he simply had more opportunities to do so: mingling was useful and it wasn't uncommon to have a rowdy bar night to celebrate a job well done. he is a bit of a lightweight and tends to withdraw when tipsy/drunk, so he actually has more fun when sober

drugs: also no (unless we're counting medicine for this. he won't be refusing painkillers if he's in pain etc.)

mount issuance: his beloved chocobo, who he dotes on very much, especially because it was something of a dream to have when he was just a baby adventurer - he could not have afforded to buy or maintain one at the time

been arrested: he's got in trouble for those rowdy bar nights - he's not the type to start a fight, but if someone were to pick a fight with him or his friends, by gods, he will be finishing it. no serious jail time, more like being hauled off with everyone else involved to sober up until morning, though

#meme tag #i draw sometimes #sjddskjhs i feel a bit nervous

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bg3daydream · 2 days

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Wine and Blood (Astarion x Tav)

Astarion x named male Tav (half-drow fighter called Ivar) Fanfiction

Summary: One-shot narrating the first night Astarion and Ivar spend together after the tieflings party. Ivar is already crushing on Astarion and I wan to think there're some feelings flourishing in Astarion too.

Notes and tags: +18. There's blood drinking, sex (thigh riding and oral) and mentions of briefly dissociating during it but it's resolved. Also English not being my first language.

Words: 5k

Ivar smiled as he looked around the camp and the people celebrating. The party had been going for hours now and most people were already in different stages of drunkenness. Everyone seemed to be happy for once, having fun, which was good…

Well… Everyone but one, it seemed.

Astarion was standing outside his tent, looking around with a disdain better suited for a spoiled cat, grimacing as he took sips from a bottle of wine.

Ivar rolled his eyes at the sight but couldn't help his smile as he approached Astarion.

“Having fun I see…” He joked and Astarion scoffed.

“Not as much as you seemed to be having with Shadowheart before…”

Ivar should have seen it coming. Astarion was fond of teasing him about what he called his “silly crush on Shadowheart,” and Ivar wondered what would the vampire think if he knew that the silly flutters in his belly when he looked at him were even worse.

He'd tried to ignore it first, then fight it. It made no sense, it was ridiculous. No matter how attractive Astarion could be, he could also be just as mean, Ivar knew those feelings were a bad idea, he knew he shouldn't trust him the way he did.. Yet there he was.

“We were just talking and drinking,” he finally said. “Having fun, like everyone…besides you, it seems.”

“Oh, but I do want to have fun!” Astarion huffed. “But all I got is drunk tieflings and vinegar for wine.”

He gestured around dramatically with the bottle and Ivar reached to take it from his hand, taking a sip of the wine. It was good, Astarion had no reason to complain, although Ivar had a theory that he was not going to share and maybe get a grumpier vampire.

“So, what would you do for fun, then?” Ivar asked. “Drain a couple of tieflings? Kill Gale perhaps?”

“Oh, darling, nothing so dramatic.” Astarion dismissed his words with a theatrical wave of his hand, smirking and looking him up and down. “I just want to have sex.”

Ivar almost choked on the wine. “Oh.”

“With you, I mean,” Astarion elaborated when Ivar didn't say anything. “Hells, you really can be dense.”

“Really?” Ivar gave him a doubtful look… If this was a joke he didn't want to fall for it and make a fool out of himself.

“I'm starting to reconsider, I think I deserve someone with a working brain…”

Ivar huffed. “With you, one never knows when you're serious and when you're laughing at us.”

“Darling, I can do both at the same time.” Astarion chuckled before smirking, giving him a look that made something twirl in Ivar’s belly. “So… Do you want to?”

Did he want it? Yes. Was it a good idea? No. Was he already nodding? Yes.

Astarion’s smirk went bigger, and he seemed so smug and pleased with himself that Ivar was almost tempted to say no. Almost.

“Then I'll see you later, when everyone else is a bit more…mellow. We'll find each other in the woods.”

Astarion waved towards the direction and Ivar nodded, wordlessly, before walking away, wondering if that conversation had really happened.

Ivar looked at the blanket he'd spread over the ground, the bottle of wine, and the glasses… he was already regretting it, why had he done that, Astarion was going to laugh at him…

But if he came back carrying everything after Karlach helped him sneak the bottle of wine from Shadowhear’s good stash, after admitting what he wanted it for, she was going to laugh in his face.

He decided to stop being an insecure idiot and go find Astarion. He didn't need to go far to see him, leaning against a tree. He was only wearing his trousers and Ivar tried not to stare at his body.

“There you are…” Astarion smiled as he approached. “I've been waiting… waiting since the moment I set eyes on you. Waiting to have you.”

His speech sounded rehearsed… And odd, considering the first time he saw him, Astarion tried to threaten him with a dagger, without much success. Ivar decided not to comment on that, though, let Astarion have his moment.

“You don't have me,” he said instead, as if that could cover how much he wanted to brush his hands over Astarion’s exposed skin, or the fact that he'd gotten them wine and all.

It didn't seem to sound convincing and Astarion arched an eyebrow, smirking.

“But you're here… And I don't think you want to talk.” Honestly? Ivar didn't think he would mind having a real talk with Astarion, but he kept going before he could say anything. “No. I think that you want to be known. To be tasted…”

The speech was still sounding rehearsed and it was making Ivar feel a bit odd. Besides, he was not the only one there.

“And what do you want?”

Astarion blinked at him, almost as if taken aback, his smile faltering for a second, but then he was smiling again. “Pleasure. Our… collective ecstasy. Isn't that what you want?”

Those words were still so odd and rehearsed, but maybe if he commented on it, Astarion would get upset, so Ivar decided not to say anything about it even if it was making him feel a bit weird.

“I, uh… Yeah but… Just…come here a moment,” he gestured towards where he’d left the blanket and the wine. He'd gone through all the trouble to get it ready and he was going to use it, even if at risk of Astarion laughing at him for that.

Astarion wasn't moving, his smile was gone and he was frowning. “What…where…what are you getting me into now.” He sighed disapprovingly.

“Nothing.” Ivar rolled his eyes. “Come on.”

He began walking and Astarion thankfully seemed to decide to indulge him, following him, and soon the blanket and everything else were on sight.

“Oh… You got us a picnic, how… Sweet.” Astarion’s words were as teasing as his smile.

“Don't you dare to laugh…” Ivar muttered, self-conscious, while he sat down on the blanket.

Astarion laughed anyway, but it didn't sound malicious. “Come on, darling… I think it's cute.”

Ivar scoffed, but he was glad Astarion wasn't openly making fun of the whole thing. As the vampire sat down too, Ivar took the wine and filled a glass, which he passed to Astarion.

Astarion took a sip and grimaced. “And you went to all this trouble to still bring me vinegar. Delightful.”

“This,” Ivar began, taking the glass from Astarion’s hand and sipping the rich wine. “It's probably one of our best bottles. I think it tastes like that for you because you're a vampire. For the blood thing and all that…” He wondered if he was being too blunt. He hoped not.

“Oh…oh…” Astarion scoffed. He seemed upset and Ivar regretted his words already. “Yes, wonderful. Just another thing that was taken away from me.”

“I'm sorry…” Ivar murmured and Astarion just scoffed again, giving him a smile that felt closer to a snarl.

“So, you knew that and still decided to bring me wine I couldn't drink when all I was asking for was sex. You really know how to woo someone.”

“It was just a theory.” Ivar really hoped he hadn't fucked this up already. “And I had something else in mind if it was true.”

He reached for a knife that he'd placed next to the blanket, and Astarion seemed alarmed for a second. Ivar wondered if he thought he might hurt him… The idea tasted bitter in his mouth.

With Astarion watching him carefully, Ivar held the pad of this thumb to the blade, carefully slicing it just enough to draw blood, ignoring the sting.

Astarion seemed confused and surprised, but it was nothing compared to how he looked when Ivar reached to smear the blood from his thumb over the vampire's pretty, plush lips.

In the second that it took for Astarion to react, a million panicking thoughts went through Ivar’s mind. Why had he done that, it was too odd, Astarion was going to think he was a weirdo or worse…

Then Astarion was licking the blood from his thumb before sucking it into his mouth, smiling, and the sight and feeling had warmth pooling in Ivar’s belly.

“Now…that's what I call a nice drink,” Astarion said before giving his thumb another lick, holding Ivar’s hand in place.

He sucked on his thumb again before brushing his lips to Ivar’s forearm. He expected a bite, he'd let Astarion feed from his forearm once after a fight, but instead now Astarion just kissed it, smirking as he looked at Ivar.

Then he let go of his arm and reached to place his hand at the back of Ivar’s neck, pulling him close while leaning to kiss his lips.

Ivar’d be embarrassed to admit that he almost melted at it, hands brushing over Astarion’s cold and soft skin, pulling him closer as they kissed.

Without breaking the kiss, Astarion pushed him to lie on his back, leaning over him, and Ivar felt him smile against his lips at the sound he let out when he pressed his body to his.

Ivar shuddered when he felt Astarion’s cold hand under his shirt, caressing over his stomach and up to his chest, pulling his shirt up as he went.

Ivar broke the kiss just enough to take off his shirt completely, discarding it to the side and letting Astarion push him to the ground again.

He was a bit embarrassed by the sound he let out at the feeling of Astarion’s chest brushing against his own as they kissed, but the thought was soon gone as Astarion moved from his lips to kiss down his throat, his collarbone, his chest…

He almost whined when Astarion stopped, leaning back.

“Let me drink,” he all but purred, eying his neck, his sharp nails caressing it as if there could be any doubt about where he wanted to drink from. “This,” he said as he held his hand, before sucking his thumb. “Was but a tease, darling…”

Ivar considered it… He’d let Astarion drink from him already, even if not from his neck, besides he was the one who had, indeed, teased him by bleeding his thumb, and he was giving him such a look…

It seemed he was thinking it too long for Astarion’s patience, he was already leaning to his neck, and Ivar was about to give him an earful about drinking without waiting for him to say yes, but instead of his fangs, he felt Astarion’s tongue licking a strip up his neck, making him gasp.

“Okay…” He gave in. “But… Ask nicely first.” If Astarion could turn him into a shuddering, embarrassingly needing mess, then at the very least he could try to tease him a bit.

“Oh?” Astarion pulled back to look at him with an arched brow, seeming amused. “And how would that be? Oh, strong warrior, let me drink your delectable blood?”

Astarion really had a gift for making beautiful words sound like he was laughing at you. It was admirable, really.

“I was thinking more about you saying please.” Ivar grinned, enjoying the look of disbelief on Astarion's face, his dignified huff. “Come on…” He stretched his neck, showing off the place where Astarion’s tongue was a minute ago, while his hands caressed his cold chest.

Astarion rolled his eyes with another huff but decided to indulge him. “Please?”

Ivar grinned at the victory, petty or not, choosing to ignore Astarion’s mocking tone. “Go ahead.”

“Cheeky little pup…” Astarion muttered as he buried his face into his neck.

Ivar felt the sharp pain of his fangs, then the blood flowing, but the pain was soon numbed… Yet, he could still feel every lick of Astarion’s tongue, every suck of his lips.

Astarion pressed against him even more as he eagerly drank, letting one of his hands drag down his chest, nails scratching ever so slightly, pressing him to the ground, while his other hand rested on his head, grabbing his hair, holding him in place.

The sounds that Astarion soon began making combined with the feeling of his tongue and lips, his body pressed to him, his hands… It was all going straight to Ivar’s dick and he writhed under Astarion, hips thrusting up helplessly.

When his growing cock brushed against Astarion's leg as he moved, Ivar let out a muffled moan, holding tighter to Astarion.

Astarion noticed and he tore himself from Ivar’s neck to look at him with a smirk. He didn't say anything, though, didn't tease him, instead he shifted to place his thigh between Ivar’s, rubbing it purposely against his groin, his devilish smirk growing at Ivar’s reaction, his moan as he hit back against Astarion’s thigh.

Ivar cursed as Astarion kept the motion of his thigh, tilting his head back, and Astarion took advantage of that to dive back into his neck.

Astarion went back to drinking, but Ivar was sure some of the sucks and licks with which he was lavishing his neck weren't strictly necessary to drink his blood… Not that he'd complain.

Ivar held to Astarion’s shoulder with one hand, the other flying to the back of the vampire's head, burying his fingers in his hair, which earned him an approving sound from Astarion, muffled against his neck.

Ivar didn't care about his own needy noises, grinding against Astarion’s thigh while the vampire responded in kind, rubbing against him.

It was too much, a lick of Astarion’s tongue had him shuddering, just at the same time his thigh pressed and rubbed against his straining dick in a particularly nice way, and before he even knew it, Ivar was coming, fingers digging into Astarion’s shoulder, pulling him even closer, which he let him do, burying his face even more into his bleeding neck.

Ivar panted, torn between enjoying the way he was feeling or trying to regain some semblance of control of himself.

Astarion was still drinking from his neck, but it was slower this time, lazy licks alternated with gentle kisses across his neck, and it felt so good Ivar was tempted to just lie there, eyes closed, and let Astarion do as he wished, but finally, the embarrassment won.

“I, uh…I don't… Don't usually…” He didn't usually what? Come inside his pants? Embarrassingly soon? Let vampires drink from his neck? Come while they drank his blood? Yeah, all of that.

Another lick and then Astarion pulled back from his neck to look at him. His smile was teasing but not mean.

“Darling… I really don't care.”

His lips were covered with Ivar’s blood, dripping down his chin, and it had smeared his cheeks and even nose too from rubbing his face against Ivar’s neck and bleeding wound.

“You're a mess…” Ivar murmured while he reached to train a droplet of blood on Astarion’s cheek. “How do you manage to look good even like this?”

Astarion’s smile grew. “Oh, darling… I always look good,” he purred. “I have to say, blood wasn't looking bad on you either today when you killed those goblins.”

Was Astarion paying him a compliment? Ivar felt like teasing him a bit for it but it wasn't worth the risk of Astarion maybe never doing it again.

He just smiled, cupping Astarion’s cheek, and the vampire leaned down to kiss him.

Ivar didn't care that Astarion’s lips were smeared with his blood. He was a fighter, he didn't mind blood anymore, and he had tasted his own already, from bleeding noses to broken lips. It was much, much better to taste it from Astarion’s lips.

Ivar made himself pull away from the kiss just so he could roll over, carefully dragging Astarion with him so now he was the one on his back with Ivar pressed against him.

Astarion seemed surprised by the sudden movement, his body going rigid, brows furrowing, and so Ivar pulled back to take a good look at him, in case he didn't like the change of position.

“Okay?”

He felt Astarion’s body relaxing under his again and the vampire nodded, sultry smile back on his face.

Before Ivar could ask him if he was sure, Astarion sat up to lick a droplet of blood that had dripped from Ivar’s neck down to his chest, trailing it with his tongue before burying his face in his neck to drink his blood again.

Ivar shuddered with a gasp. This was not what he had in mind, he was supposed to be the one making Astarion moan and feel good, beyond letting him drink his blood.

Ivar pushed Astarion back to the ground, looking at him to try and make sure he was okay with it, and when the vampire looked at him with a smirk and an arched brow, he leaned down, pressing his body to his again.

“Don't get greedy,” he whispered teasingly before kissing Astarion’s lips.

Ivar began sliding down Astarion’s body, hands caressing smooth, cold skin as he went, placing kisses on that chiseled body, over his chest, down his stomach…

“You don't have to…” Astarion murmured.

“I want to,” Ivar replied, looking up at Astarion’s face. “If it's okay. If you want to?” There was a beat before Astarion nodded. “Yeah?” Ivar asked again.

Another nod. “Yeah.”

Ivar went back to placing kisses over Astarion’s stomach, lips brushing down to his belly, kissing until he reached the waistband of his trousers.

“Can I keep going?” He asked, kissing Astarion’s lower belly when he whispered a yes. Another kiss and he pulled back to look at Astarion, hooking his fingers on the waistband of his trousers and underwear. “Can I?”

Astarion nodded, his eyes dark crimson as he looked at Ivar. “Yeah.” He lifted his hips to help Ivar peel both his trousers and underwear off him.

Ivar got situated between Astarion’s legs again. He kissed his thigh, then his hipbone, until he reached his cock, licking the length of it slowly.

Astarion’s shuddered moan as his hips hit up had Ivar smiling. He gripped the base of Astarion’s shaft with one hand, placing the other on his thigh, and he slid his mouth down Astarions cock, which rewarded him with another moan.

He looked up at Astarion’s face as he sucked on his tip and the sight of the vampire, eyes closed, brows furrowed in pleasure, mouth open with another strangled moan, almost made Ivar moan himself.

The noises that Astarion was making as Ivar kept going, mouth sliding up and down his cock, were music to his ears and, in all honesty, to his ego.

One of Astarion’s hands was clawing at the blanket under them and Ivar reached up to hold it, unsure of how Astarion might react and if he might just slap it away.

He didn't, instead, he held it, intertwining their fingers and squeezing his hand.

Suddenly, though, Astarion’s hand went limp on his. The way his hips were moving and even the sounds he was making felt… Different. Ivar couldn't explain why, but something didn't feel right.

He pulled back to look at Astarion, who at first didn't seem to notice but then gave him a sultry smile… It was so different from his face of pleasure before, though…

"Are you okay?" Ivar asked and Astarion frowned.

"Yeah."

"Really?" Ivar didn't want to be pushy or ruin the mood, but still, something didn't feel right.

"Yes… I just got… A bit distracted. Didn't mean to…" Astarion frowned, lips pursed, but soon he was wearing his devilish smile again. "I'm sorry, darling," he purred, sliding down his hand towards Ivar’s groin, but he stopped it.

The fact that Astarion'd gotten distracted while he sucked his cock was a bit discouraging, but Ivar was most worried about how something felt off.

"Don't be, just… We can stop." He wouldn't mind and he hoped Astarion could see it. "It's okay, I don't mind."

Astarion opened his mouth as if to say something but closed it. His sultry smile was gone, frown on his face, and Ivar was about to move back when he spoke.

“No… No, I don't want you to stop.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Keep going.” Astarion’s hand went back to holding Ivar’s and his hips wiggled ever so slightly. “Please.”

“Okay…okay, just…tell me if I do something you don't like…” It was awkward to tell him that, but it was better than the alternative… Better safe than sorry.

“Wasn't you…” Astarion muttered but he didn't elaborate and Ivar decided not to press the matter more for now.

With his mind set on making sure Astarion was enjoying this, Ivar lowered his mouth to his cock again, eyes on Astarion’s face. He was slow at first, a bit tentative even, waiting to notice his reaction to everything.

As Ivar’s lips slid down his cock, Astarion hummed, eyes closed, his hand holding Ivar’s tighter when he dragged his lips back up, sucking, making him moan in a way that, thankfully, sounded good and real again.

Astarion’s free hand moved to Ivar’s head, seemingly of his own accord, but he moved it away when he realized it. Ivar reached for it, though, taking it to place it on his head again.

He was okay with it, let Astarion show him what he wanted from him, and he moaned on his cock when Astarions’ fingers grabbed his hair roughly.

Ivar kept going, letting Astarion guide him and take from him what he pleased, enjoying every sound that the vampire let out, every soft moan, quiet whimper, and grunt, until Astarion reached his climax with a strangled cry.

Astarion’s back arched up, hand holding Ivar’s head in place but he didn't mind, just swallowed his release as he kept licking and sucking until Astarion let go of his head.

Ivar kissed Astarion’s hip, then his thigh before moving back to look at him. He'd covered his eyes with his arm, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smile, and he looked damn beautiful as always.

Ivar moved from between Astarion’s thighs to lie on his side next to him. He reached out a hand towards the vampire but stopped, even if it felt a bit foolish to be uncertain about touching him after he just sucked his cock.

“Was it… Okay?” Ivar asked even if he felt insecure and kind of stupid doing so. “Did you like it?”

Astarion moved his arm from his face, turning to face Ivar too. “Yeah…yeah, I actually enjoyed that.”

“You sound surprised…were you expecting me to be bad at it?” Ivar didn't know if he found it funny or embarrassing.

Astarion rolled his eyes at him but didn't say anything.

Ivar sat up, reaching to take a bottle of water he'd brought, besides the wine, taking a big gulp of it.

“What? No drink for me?” Astarion purred, looking at his neck.

“Gluttony doesn't look good on you,” Ivar joked and Astarion smirked.

“Darling, I thought we had agreed everything looks good on me.”

Ivar rolled his eyes again but his smile betrayed him. He looked around the blanket until he spotted the cloth he'd also brought and he picked it up, pouring some water from the bottle on it.

“What are you doing?” Astarion asked.

“Cleaning the mess we are.” Ivar reached the cloth towards Astarion’s face but didn't touch him. “If that's okay.”

Astarion nodded and so Ivar carefully dabbed at the dried blood on his face with the wet cloth, dragging it over his lips and chin, washing him clean, and Astarion let him do it with his eyes closed.

He opened them when Ivar stopped to refold the towel and pour water on it again. This time he reached towards Astarion’s groin, again stopping before touching him, waiting until Astarion nodded.

When he did, Ivar gently brushed the wet cloth over Astarion’s hips and thighs, his belly, his cock, cleaning him of cum and also blood that had dripped from Ivar’s neck.

Astarion let him do it in silence, looking at him intently, in a way Ivar couldn't quite place but that felt… Good.

Once he finished with Astarion, Ivar moved back to remove his own pants and take off his underwear, ruined from when he'd come before… He really hoped he could wash them without anybody seeing him.

Pouring more water on the cloth, he hastily washed his own mess. When he reached to press the cloth to the wound on his neck, though, Astarion stopped him with a hand on his wrist.

“I can take care of that, darling…” He moved to bury his face in Ivar’s neck.

“You're getting so greedy…” Ivar tried to sound teasing but the feeling of Astarion’s lips on his neck had him shuddering, eyes closed.

“Oh, but you like it…” Astarion said against his neck, licking over the wound. It had stopped bleeding but Astarion sucked on it as if trying to draw more blood. “I saw it.”

Ivar said nothing, sure that nothing dignified would make it past his lips, and he felt Astarion chuckling.

He looked up from his neck to kiss his lips again. Ivar wasn't expecting it and he hummed into the kiss, pleased, arms reaching to hold Astarion, who pushed him to lie down on his back on the ground again, with him between his open legs.

Another deep kiss, and then Astarion moved back to his neck, making the almost closed wound bleed again, just slightly.

Ivar fell asleep like that, with Astarion lying on top of him, face buried in his neck, lazily tonguing at the reopened wound.

The sunrise didn't wake Ivar, who was sure never had slept like that, almost like he was knocked out. It was Astarion’s body moving away from him as the vampire got up that woke him.

His eyelids didn't seem to want to cooperate and he had a bad headache but Ivar finally managed to open his eyes. When he tried to sit up on his forearms though the world spinned before focusing on Astarion.

He was facing the sun, body open to it, eyes closed, face relaxed… Ivar wondered if he'd ever get used to how beautiful he was.

There was a scar on his back, big, intricate, almost like some sort of scar tattoo, and Ivar wondered what the hells could it be. It looked odd on Astarion. He wasn't sure how the vampire might react if he asked him about it, though.

Ivar tried to get up but not only did the world spin again, it felt almost as if his head was going to fall off his shoulders. He felt so lightheaded and weak…

Just how much blood had he let Astarion drink from him? He should be more careful next time, or at least bring some scrolls of healing or restoration, maybe something to eat at the very least…

Would there be a next time, though? Was this just a post-party one-night thing for Astarion? Ivar didn't know… He didn't want it to be just that, but he didn't know what Astarion might think or how to bring it up to him.

He groaned, trying to get up again, giving up and falling back down, covering his face with his arm. Astarion heard him and he turned around to face him, arching an eyebrow.

“I definitely let you drink too much…” Ivar complained.

“Oh, way to be dramatic, dear.” Astarion dismissed him with a wave of his hand. “Is a fighter not used to a bit of blood loss? ”

Astarion reached to take his clothes, picking up Ivar’s trousers too and throwing them to his face

“Come on, it's past time we left.”

Ivar grumbled a complaint but sat up, squeezing his eyes tight and trying to put on his trousers blindly.

Astarion was already done with his own by the time Ivar was finished, and for a second Ivar considered reaching for the vampire's hand as he tried to get up, but decided against it.

He managed to get up, even if a bit wobbling, the world spinning again, head pounding.

His eyes landed on Astarion, standing closer than he'd realized, beautiful even looking like he was about to laugh at him.

“Fuck, I want to kiss you,” Ivar hadn't meant to say it aloud and he felt like face-palming.

“Oh… Do you, now?” Astarion was looking way too pleased with himself and Ivar wanted to kiss that smug look off his face.

“Yeah… Can I?” Ivar wondered if he should be embarrassed at being acting like that… he wasn't.

“Mmh…” Astarion made a show of thinking it over. “I’ll allow it,” he finally said in a way better suited for a spoiled cat allowing pets.

Leaning down, Ivar kissed Astarion’s lips, in a softer kiss than the ones they had shared last night, deepening it when he felt Astarion’s hands on his waist, holding to him. He could get used to this. He didn't want to think this might be the last time he kissed him.

Astarion was the first to pull back but his hands lingered on Ivar’s waist like a soft, cold touch.

“You know…” Astarion began, looking at Ivar in a way he couldn't quite place. “This was… Not what I had in mind last night. But it was nice. Really nice.”

Ivar wondered if he was smiling like a fool and found that he didn't care if he was.

“Now…” Astarion pulled back and waved a hand toward the blanket and everything else. “You better rush to pick all this up or by the time you get to the camp, hungover tieflings will have eaten all breakfast. See you later, darling.”

With that, Astarion began walking towards the camp.

It’d have been nice of him to offer to help him pick up everything and clean up, maybe offer to bring him some breakfast…but Ivar hadn't expected it.

He watched Astarion until he disappeared among the trees before he began picking up the wine and water, blanket, and everything else.

He wondered if and when he'd get to share another night with Astarion… He wondered too just how foolish his smile looked as he thought of it, but found he didn't care.

Now he just needed to find the right moment to ask Astarion.

NA:

Excuse Ivar sometimes, he just got charisma 8. But he's a sweetheart.

Thanks for taking the time to read this.

If you liked it, please let me know in a comment, and as always, reblogs are more than welcome.

This scene lived in my head and I had to write it, even if I know not many people would be interested in my own tavs. Thanks if you gave it a chance.

If you want to read more about Astarion and Ivar (or any other of my tavs) or have requests for Astarion fanfics, I'm all pointy ears.

Excuse my English, it’s not my first language.

#astarion #astarion fanfiction #astarion romance #astarion x tav #tavstarion #astarion x oc #astarion fanfic #astarion fic #bg3 astarion #astarion ancunin #baldurs gate astarion #astarion bg3

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oneverytiredperson · 1 day

Text

"'Kay, let's go." You said, gathering your stuff.

"Wait, wait, are you going to be wearing that?" Rafe looked at you in disbelief.

"What's wrong with what I'm wearing?" You were wearing your usual clothes, a tank top and some pair of jeans, along with your trusty combat boots (that soon would need a replacement).

"Well, you look..." Rafe trailed off, he didn't want to say it, but it was pretty clear what he meant.

"Like a pogue." You mumbled. "Well, shit, because I don't have anything else to wear, so your people will have to deal with it" you crossed your arms.

"Don't start with that now, we got some time, we'll buy you something on the way"

You stared at Rafe with your mouth agape as he went to his truck.

"You comin' or not?"

He took you to one of the best clothing stores. It was huge, you've seen kooks wearing those kind of clothes. You didn't even want to look at the price tag. Each piece probably costing more than your own life.

"Well... just, huh, choose whatever you want. I'll pay" Rafe said as you stared at the rows of clothes in front of you.

"I don't... I don't even know where to start" suddenly, an idea came into your mind, you turned to Rafe with a mischievous smile "say, since you're the expert here, why don't you pick something out for me?"

He tensed, then sighed.

"If it makes this any quicker"

Unbelievable. He said yes??? This man kept surprising you more and more.

After some minutes, Rafe appeared with a pink matching set consisting of a mini skirt and a polo shirt.

"I'm going to kill myself" you muttered. Was he doing this on purpose? Oh, of course he was. Out of all the clothes he could have picked, a PINK MINI SKIRT?

Rafe was just dying to see you try it on.

#rafe cameron #obx #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader

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mychoombatheroomba · 1 day

Text

For the Fallen

Between the Bones (Leon x GN! Reader) - Chapter 41

You and Leon spend the holiday together and come to an agreement.

(Cross-posted from Ao3)

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Chapter Index

When the plans to study had been thrown out the window by your own hand, part of you had resigned yourself to a solemn remembrance. Fitting for the day, after all. One meant to commemorate the fallen. You weren’t sure what to do to honor them - the names in that report stashed under your mattress. The ones stamped above empty boxes in a graveyard you couldn’t bring yourself to visit. One of those names, still worn around your neck. A name that you wouldn’t be avenging any time soon, thanks to the broken bones in your side.

Just one of the dozens of names you were failing in your inaction.

You’d clutched that third dog tag in your hand as you sat alone in the infirmary, turning your music on loud and just letting yourself think, however foolish it was. You weren’t sure how else to honor the men and women whose stories you carried. So, even if it would just get you lost in a tempest, you’d begun to wade into the stormy waters.

You hadn’t gotten very far before there was a knock on your door.

Then your plans were, once again, completely changed.

“We’ve gotta stop meeting like this,” Leon had said with a little smile when you opened that door to find him there.

Even after he’d explained Valeria’s plan, you’d been antsy. Maybe because you doubted her ability to stall the two CIA agents all day, maybe because you didn’t like the idea of owing Valeria anything else. Either way, Leon made it clear that, if you wanted his company, he’d be there.

You almost refused him.

There was a part of you that wanted to remember alone; to get lost in that storm.

“You don’t have to,” you told him. “You should be writing back to your family.”

Something crossed Leon’s eyes that you couldn’t identify, but the sincerity that followed was something you knew all too well from him. “That doesn’t mean that you have to be alone. If you don’t want to be.”

He was giving you an out. Offering you the option of taking that time for yourself . . . but you didn’t know when you’d have another opportunity like this. You couldn’t be sure that you and Leon would be able to be together at all until the end of his training, if even then.

The only problem was that it was today.

It was today and even if you’d been allowed to go off base and mourn, to attend a service or even see their empty graves, you didn’t know that you would. Last year on Memorial Day, you’d been determined to remember them through service. You’d been training, then. Pushing yourself to never fail anyone like you’d failed them. What greater way of honoring them was there? This year, though, your own body had caged you from that option. You didn’t know how to honor your fallen.

“Not sure I’ll be good company today,” you warned Leon.

He just shrugged, his expression becoming more knowing. Understanding. “Not sure I will be, either.” Because you weren’t the only one with fallen to remember. You felt insensitive for thinking only of yourself, then. Especially when Leon seemed to be thinking only of you. “But my company’s yours if you want it.”

You hesitated a moment, your lips pressed tight together.

“Did you finish writing your letters?” you asked, because you had seen the look on Leon’s face that morning. You’d seen how desperately he’d wanted to respond to the letters he’d received.

Just as you could see now that writing those return letters was proving to be difficult.

“No. Not yet. Not sure what to write, honestly.”

You nodded, your mouth twisting as you made your decision. “Well . . . write them in here, then.”

So, there the two of you sat, you on the bed, Leon in the chair and hunched over the nearby table, staring at a half-written letter. You had to promise him several times that it was alright for him to write it in your company before he actually got to finishing it. Or trying to, at least. You could see his mind rushing, trying to come up with the right words, his borrowed pen drumming against the table just as your fingers found their own beat against the metal of the tags around your neck.

“Sorry,” he eventually apologized. “I didn’t think this would take so long.”

You could sympathize. You weren’t sure what you’d put in your letter home, if you were writing one. Though, it occurred to you, you didn't know if that’s where Leon was writing to. You assumed, with the slightly messy handwriting of the letters he’d brought with him, that he was writing to a kid. That only made the process more difficult, as far as you could tell. So, you shook your head, flipping to another radio station. “Don’t worry about it,” you told him. Then, after a moment spent looking down at Leon’s letters . . . “Little sister?” you asked, taking a guess.

Leon’s smile came with a little laugh. “Sure, something like that.”

Something like that?

“You don’t have a secret kid you haven’t told me about, do you?”

A little hesitation and a strange look from Leon, and at once a look of horror crossed your face. One that made him laugh.

“Not like that!” he reassured you, shaking his head, waving his hands in front of him. It was a moment before he collected his thoughts, and when he did, there was a sense of somberness to him. One you recognized all too well. It was a look that overtook him whenever he talked about that night, if fear didn’t get to him first. So, you weren’t surprised when he explained where he met the little girl in the letters. “She was in Raccoon City. Her parents . . . her parents died there. So when we made it out, I took care of her for a while.”

That was . . . not that surprising, actually. Not when it came to Leon. He would offer to house some kid who had nowhere else to go, even after he’d been through so much.

“So . . . a secret kid that you never told me about.” You grinned a little as you spoke, letting him know you were teasing. You were sure that helped Leon’s own smile as he looked back at you.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”

“Why haven’t you mentioned her before?” you couldn’t help but ask, because clearly this girl meant a lot to Leon.

But then, you of all people knew what it was to keep your heart guarded, didn’t you?

“I don’t know,” Leon admitted, his voice quieter. “I guess I just . . . didn’t know how. Not something that ever really came up in conversation.”

Another nod as you looked down at the floor, then back up at the mystery that was your lover. You’d given each other so many pieces of yourselves, but still had so much else locked away.

“What’s her name?” you asked.

Leon smiled as he answered. “Sherry.”

Sherry. Another name from his past. Another piece of who he was.

Another name that had an unexpected weight for you, too.

“She was Birkin’s daughter.”

Your eyes widened, because that name brought on nothing but anger in you. “The scientist?” The man who had helped take everything from you, even indirectly. The bastard responsible for the destruction of Raccoon City. You remembered his correspondence with the CIA, demanding protection for him, yes, but his family too.

Sherry.

Leon nodded, solemn. “He almost killed his own kid.”

You were full of anger and retribution - that had been all you’d known for so long before Leon. But even you didn’t have it in you to be angry at a child for the sins of her father.

“Then it’s good she had you,” you told Leon, because you could see that Sherry, even if she wasn’t his own flesh and blood, meant a lot to him. That was all but confirmed in the grateful smile he gave you in return. One that turned more sad.

“I wish I could have done more for her.”

Of course he did. Whatever good Leon did, you had the feeling it would never be enough for him.

“Is that who they were asking about?” you couldn’t help but ask, and it was Leon’s turn for brief confusion. “Hellman. Back in the prison,” you said, and you felt bad that the color drained a little from his face at the mention of it. Still, you’d been curious since that day. “They asked about someone’s name. A girl. Was it her? Or Ada?”

Leon’s lips tightened, and he shook his head. “No.” Neither. Interesting. “No, that was . . .” he hesitated, and you half expected him to say pass. It had been a while since you’d needed to use that system, but you’d imagined it may make a reappearance.

Instead, you got a full answer.

“They were asking about Claire,” Leon explained, his voice low like he was afraid someone might overhear. “I met her that night, too. On the way into Raccoon City. She’s the one who saved Sherry, but she was looking for her brother after everything, so I agreed to take Sherry while Claire went looking.”

You nodded as you listened, this being the first you’d heard of this woman - another shadow Leon carried from that night, it seemed.

“What’s she like? Sherry?”

Leon looked surprised at the change in topic, but eventually smiled. “Smart. Maybe a little too smart for her own good, sometimes.” There was a fondness to his voice that melted your heart. “Persistent as hell, too. She really wanted me to get a dog for her. Almost convinced me, too.” He chuckled to himself at a memory you weren’t privy to, but his gaze slid down to the floor, the levity in his eyes fading a touch. “She’s tough, too. A lot tougher than me.”

You nodded, because for a child to have lived through the hell of Raccoon City . . .

“She shouldn’t have had to live through that,” Leon said, after a moment. You could hear the utter regret in his voice, and you knew he was wishing he could have shielded her from it all better. Of course, you understood. You wouldn’t wish what you’d seen on anyone, especially not a child. Sherry shouldn’t have had to see what she’d seen, but-

“Neither should you.”

Leon grimaced at your words, shaking his head. “None of us should have. None of this should have happened.”

“But it did.”

He nodded, looking down. “But it did,” he nodded, his eyes shifting from your face down - down to the clenched fist held just inches away from your heart, where you held your dog tags. It looked like he was gathering the courage to say something - and finding that courage didn’t take him as long as it once did. “Can I ask you something?” Even now, he was still too polite for his own good.

“Sure.” You had a feeling you knew what that question was going to be before it even left Leon’s lips.

You were proven right a second later.

“You wear three tags,” he said, looking back up to your eyes. The observation cut deep and pinned you in place. “The third one . . . is it your Captain’s?”

You knew you could refuse him an answer, just as you had for months whenever he asked about your past or the people in it. If you wanted, you could say one word and Leon would drop the subject, no questions asked.

But you’d wanted him to know everything, hadn’t you? You’d promised him, back before Fort Benning and all the mess that followed, that you would tell him about the man whose name and fate you had literally tied around your own neck. The man you’d considered a father in a time when you’d needed one, and a man you’d failed.

Leon deserved to know. So, you nodded. “It was.”

“And what was his name?” His question mirrored your own in a way that made your heart squeeze.

You answered with a tight voice because you hadn’t spoken his name out loud since you gave the report hidden only feet away from you. “Simon Reynolds.”

A moment of silence passed between the two of you, one where you could see Leon debating something. Eventually, when he spoke up again, his voice was soft. “What was he like?”

What was Reynolds like? The question hit you like a bullet, because for over a year you had thought more of his death than the man himself. Grief and vengeance had blurred the image of him in your mind, making him into a catalyst instead of a person. It wasn’t what he deserved, so as Leon asked the question, you let yourself go back to another time. One where you were a shitty kid who thought the world was out to get you. And maybe it had been, in the end, but for a while, Captain Simon Reynolds had been there to guide that anger at the world into something else. Something that could do good instead of harm.

“He was . . . firm. But never unfair. Kind of guy to tell you when you fucked up, but he wouldn’t hold it against you if you learned. Never made you feel bad about asking for help when you needed it.” You couldn’t help but smile at the memory of him, like you were seeing him, really seeing him, for the first time in ages. “Used to say ‘if you can’t run, you crawl, and if you can’t do that, then you find someone to carry you’.”

Leon smiled at that, nodding like the words were taking root. You’d figured they would. “I think I would have liked him.”

“You would have. He’d have loved you.” They would have been insufferable, you imagined, if there was a world where they could have met. If he could have met all of your second family. “They all would have.”

“Your old unit?” Leon asked, and you didn’t miss the hesitancy in his voice. He didn’t want to overstep, but he wanted to know.

“Yeah.”

“You’ve never talked about them much.”

You took a breath, then, because that fact had been weighing on you and now was as good a time as any. So, with a little exhale as movement made pain flare in your ribs, you got up from the bed and reached under the mattress for the manila folder you’d hidden in the lining. Leon watched you with parted lips, right up until you found what you were looking for and handed him a collection of papers. “Good day to change that,” you told him, and his eyes widened as he read your name off the paper.

“This is-”

“Everything that happened that night. My report on it. Their stories.” The ones that had been barred from the rest of the world. “All of it.”

The two of you looked at each other, then, Leon’s eyes widening as it sunk in just what you were telling him. You were ready. You wanted him to know, after months and months of hiding these deeper scars.

“Krauser also gave me this,” you went on, handing him a second stack of papers. One with his own name printed in black. Leon’s eyes flashed in momentary fear, but you assuaged it quickly. “I didn’t read it.”

The news made him tilt his head to the side a bit, and he looked between you and the report. “Why?” he asked, because you could have known everything. You could have seen into the wounds he’d been hiding, and that just made his confusion all the more ironic to you. Did he really think you’d do that to him?

“Because you hadn’t told me yet,” you said simply. That was all it came down to. He hadn’t been ready to share those details, and you wouldn’t take that choice from him. Leon would tell you when he was ready. “I wanted to hear it from you.”

As he realized that, he smiled up at you, soft and sweet. It meant a great deal to him, you could see it in his eyes. Even as they took on a more knowing glint and he handed the reports back to you.

“What makes you think I want anything different, then?” he asked, and your traitorous heart squeezed at the words. “If you want to tell me, if you’re ready, I want to hear it from you too.”

You took the papers, huffing and giving him a look. “Not gonna let me take the easy way out?”

Leon just smiled back at you. “Nope. Unless you’d really rather I-”

“No,” you shook your head, resolute as you braced yourself for what was to come. Because your comrades, your friends, your brothers and sisters, they deserved to have their stories told properly. Even if it was to someone they’d never met. “I want to. I want you to know. Just . . . it’s . . .”

“Take it as slow as you need,” Leon told you, reaching for your hand. “God knows I’ll probably have to, too.”

You looked down at him, searching his face. “That mean you’re ready too?” To tell you everything, all the details you’d only guessed at for months. To share the burden with you.

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking a little sad. “Like you said, it’s a good day for it.”

A day to remember the fallen - something you both had your fair share of. A day to mourn, and to try and move forward. So, with another deep breath, you nodded and decided to take a risk. You tugged on his hand, and without needing to be told, he rose and followed you the few steps to your bed. There, sitting on the edge, surrounded by letters and reports and soft music, the two of you looked at each other. It was a different kind of intimacy than what you’d already shared, different than the excitement of you kissing him in the darkness, of you sharing in stolen moments of pleasure. What you were about to share was deeper than that, and you both knew it. This was everything. This was who you had been and who you'd been reforged into. This was the scar you didn't dare to show to anyone, the bones that remained broken even as you tried to heal. One night that had destroyed you, one night that had destroyed him. Nights that, in some terrible way, had led you both right here, to each other.

So, you looked at each other, silently making sure you were both ready before, after a moment, Leon gave you a half smile. One of sadness and solidarity both. “So . . . who goes first?”

As the two of you shared your stories, as you spoke of the nights that your lives forever changed, his hand never left yours.

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter (Coming Soon!)

Chapter Index

A/N: Just a lil chapter, because hoooooo boy the next one is gonna be a beast. There will absolutely be heavy topics described and discussed, because it's Finland and Raccoon City time at long last baby!

Yes, Reynolds' quote (and name honestly) is a reference to Firefly, and anyone who hasn't seen that show should absolutely go watch it, it's really really good 🥲

#leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #resident evil x reader #resident evil 2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil #between the bones #gender neutral reader #leon kennedy x you #no y/n #jack krauser #sherry birkin

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