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sleepyconfusedpotato · 1 year

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I don't know if you ever received this ask or had this idea before but here goes nothing Since Ghost already met Jade's family, what if she meets his? ....angst material. Sorry not sorry.

Oh my God... Anon... You sparked something in me, and I cannot go to sleep now without posting this. Thank you so much for the idea.

(I think I'm gonna make a full on comic out of this, and I will make an art at some point for this fic, but let's use this lovely GIF of Ghost first)

She's The One

Jade meets Ghost's family.

Pairing : Simon “Ghost” Riley x Charlotte “Jade” Le Jardin (OC) Word Count : ~ 1.8k words Warning : Medium to heavy angst and mentions of death, but ends with a full on fluff because you know me mate I want Ghost to be happy ok.

Title and story inspired by the song 'She's The One' by Robbie Williams

"...How's your family, Simon?"

Jade asked Ghost. They had been having a small outing, which included watching the cinema together and going around the streetside shops to find new wardrobes for Ghost to wear. He initially thought that it was unnecessary, but as Jade insisted, he went anyway – as long as he could spend his off-duty time with her.

He'd met her parents, and though he was apprehensive about it at first, they turned out to be pleasant and strong people. It was such an unfamiliar feeling for him, to have a family to come home to, a supportive family and kind and can take care of their own. He's foreign to that concept.

Ghost just stayed silent to her question, his expression which was usually unreadable turned sorrowful, his eyes gazing down at the pavements they walked. She thought she should change the subject before Ghost muttered,

"You want to see them now?"

Jade opened her eyes wide in surprise, not expecting him to say anything about meeting his family this fast, and the way he said 'now'...

The woman knew Ghost wouldn't ask her that question if he was adamant as he was a straightforward person. And so, she answered, "Of course, if you don't mind it." He then proceeded to enter his car that was parked not far from where they just watched a movie in a cinema, not forgetting to open the passenger door for Jade beforehand.

They drove for a full 30 minutes of silence, save for the sound soft songs on the radio. As Ghost drove, Jade looked out the window and understood that they were going to a familiar place that she had passed by a few times in her life. He drove to the nearest available parking area, parking his car flawlessly before stopping the car engine, leaving the both of them in complete silence.

Jade felt the atmosphere around him grow heavy, his hands still on the steering wheel as if he was still pondering whether or not he wanted to get out of the car. He let out a soft sigh, took his keys and got out of the car. Jade got out of her own and looked at the surrounding area.

Cemetery.

The sun had disappeared behind the heavy grey clouds that constantly covered the England skies. Tiny drops of water had touched her cheek, in such a way it reflected Ghost's inner thoughts right now.

The man looked at her, "Over here." He walked with Jade following right behind him. After about 10 minutes of walking and treading through the tall grasses, Ghost stopped in front of a group of gravestones, four of them, which were placed more tightly together than the other. The grasses were tidily short, a sign that the keepers attended to these graves properly.

Jade then looked down, reading the engravings on the stones, and her heart shattered to pieces.

"Susan Riley, November 17th, 1965 - December 24th, 2017"

"Thomas Riley, July 21st, 1990 - December 24th, 2017"

"Elizabeth Riley, May 8th, 1991 - December 24th, 2017"

"Joseph Riley, March 19th, 2013 - December 24th, 2017"

It was his mother's birthday.

She looked up to find Ghost's eyes gazing down at the names as well, noticing that the ground he was standing on was right at the front of his mother's grave. No tears in sight, only sadness, and as an MI6 agent of two decades, she could deduce an expression of regret. Jade didn't need to wonder why, as the dates of their deaths were all the same - the reason he hid his identity, lived as no one, avoided any relationship with anyone, and the reason why he was adamant about meeting her parents – His past came to haunt, and it's target was not him.

Jade couldn't say anything. What could she say? That she's sorry this happened? She knew Ghost hated that phrase the most, of someone pitying him, that they wished things could be different. But what use is it to wish? It happened. His entire family died because something happened during one of his missions, and his family paid the price for it.

As if on cue, she heard a small sniff from him the same second the raindrops started to grow more frequent, falling harder, creating white noises and wet spots on their clothes. Being the Londoner she was, knowing that sunny days were never really sunny, Jade fished out her floral purple umbrella, holding it above Ghost's head beside her, making sure to cover his broad shoulders fully as her left shoulder grew wet.

She saw his face, and it was enough reason to stay silent and let him grieve. She didn't know if this was the first time he'd visited their graves after years or if he always come here at some time every year, but no matter which one the answer was, if she could see one thing, it was that his tears never seemed to run out, even after years.

Jade let him cry, the sound of his sobs completely drowned by the white noises of the heavy rain.

She knew that he wasn't a big fan of any physical touch, nonetheless, she lifted her other hand softly and rubbed at his back, going up and down in an attempt to soothe his sorrow. And after a minute of him not flinching away from her touch, Jade mustered up her will to slowly encircle her arm around his own on his side, their sides touching as she rubbed his bicep, and going even further as she leaned her head to touch his shoulder.

Ghost's shoulder still shook for a few minutes as he cried his heart out, Jade kept doing what she did as he let his sorrow out.

Soon after, another surprise hit her when she heard and saw that the rain started to slow down, albeit still going down on both of them. Her other arm started to grow sore after moments of holding the umbrella high to accommodate his height, yet what alleviated the pain was the fact that she felt a small weight on her head, realizing that Ghost had eased his cries, now only soft sniffs, and that he leaned his head on top of hers as well.

He still stayed silent, not a word spoken ever since they arrived, but she knew that this was a good sign that he knew that she would be there for him, even when he was vulnerable.

"Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley."

Jade muttered softly, the man beside her still looking down on his mother's grave even though he was slightly dazed at her words.

"This is our first meeting, but I can tell that you were a kind person, and an even more amazing mother and grandmother."

He then glanced at Jade as she continued, "Your son is a very skilled and intelligent man, traits which I assume he got from you. He's confident, a great leader-- oh! And he's handsome as well, so that's a plus."

That prompted a scoff out of his mouth. Nevertheless, she went on. "He's not much of a social person. He's a little bit intense and stiff - We can work on that. He shot my hand once! I have the scar to prove it. His choices of words are sometimes foul, though, again, we could always work on that." Jade joked lightheartedly, seeing him softly smile above her.

"But if there's one thing about him that I love, is that he's a strong man with a warm heart, and I don't have to assume to know that he got it from you." Jade continued. "Your son is the strongest man I know, and I will stop at nothing to protect him and make him happy."

Ghost looked down at her, astounded at her words. "Thank you for bringing him into this world. Happy birthday, Mrs. Riley."

As she finished her message, Jade looked up with a soft smile, "I'll be sure to bring some flowers the next time we visit, and every year after that."

She thought he was going to say something, until the arm that was intertwined with hers moved, though nervously, gliding across her back and found its home on Jade's shoulder, before lightly pressing and pulling her towards him. Jade blushed, not only at the warmth of his body but also at the fact that he initiated the touch.

"Thank you, Lottie." He muttered in his deep voice, "So much."

"Anytime, Love."

After about 15 minutes of standing in front of the graves, the rain had stopped, and the sun showed up to light the rest of the day as the sky turned orange. Jade had stored the wet umbrella back in its container and hung it on her wrist before she walked back to the car per his request. Jade figured he wanted some alone time with his family, and so she obliged.

"How's she, Mum? She's a beautiful bird, isn't she?"

Ghost finally spoke, his hands tucked inside his pockets. He then glanced at his brother's grave, smirking. "What about you, Tommy? You think she's the one?" He asked no one, not expecting any answer anyway, yet he just wanted to let it out.

"I thought I'm gonna bite the dust on some fucking rathole somewhere, and that was what I wished at some point, but..." Ghost sighed, shifting his weight on his hip, "I kind of want to die an old man, after living my life to the fullest with her-- Fuck, I can't believe I'm saying this." Ghost chuckled at his own words, not expecting it to be this heartfelt. "I'm arse over tit for her. Yeah, you're gonna laugh at me for this Tommy, but at least I didn't laugh when you said the same thing about Beth."

"And Mum, knowing you, I think you'd like her. She's a bit like you, in a way." Ghost confessed, still eyeing her name on her gravestone, "She cares too much. In a good way, and I find it endearing." He suddenly recalled the memories he had with Jade, from the first moment they met to this moment, replaying them over and over and being surprised about how much she reminded him of his mother.

"I want to protect her with all my life. I love her, Mum."

And with that, a burden on his shoulders felt like no more. He'd never said those words to anyone, and he might be insane to be in love with someone considering how he'd lived his life, but he'd made a promise to protect her, and if he'd be a fool, then a fool he would become.

"Anyway, she's waiting back there, and I'm hungry. So I'm going to leave you now." Ghost then stood up straight, his hands still in his pockets. He glanced at every single one of the gravestones, before looking at his mother's.

"Happy birthday, Mum."

-----

(All of the Riley's birthdays are entirely made-up. Their date of death was also made up, but I remembered there were something with Christmas, so I'll just place December 24th to make my heart hurt more) ಥ_ಥ

Anyway, thank you for reading, and hope you love this! (❁´◡`❁)

#call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #cod mw #cod #simon ghost riley #cod mw22 #sleepy answers #call of duty modern warfare 2022 #charlotte jade le jardin #call of duty oc #ghost x oc #ghost x jade #simon ghost riley fic #simon riley #call of duty fic #call of duty mw2 #angst #tw angst #tw death

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praisethegabs · 1 year

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FREAK

Re2r!Leon x Scientist!Reader

synopsis: Leon is a test subject, a freak. He can't remember the world outside, and he doesn't have any notion of time. All he knows is pain. He doesn't have any hope left. He knows he'll die in there, completely alone, traumatized and scared. Until he meets you, the new leading supervisor.

warnings: angst, mentions of torture, blood, psychological abuse, trust issues, umbrella being umbrella. If you feel uncomfortable with this type of subject, DO NOT read it.

word count: 5106k

a/n: i got inspired by the c.ai bot from driftedlovers and made my own version after weeks chatting with the said bot. dividers are from @cafekitsune ♡

some people survive chaos, and this is how they grow. and some people thrive in chaos because chaos is all they know (unknown author)

Inside the white walls, Leon had no idea how the day was outside, if it was cold, raining, or if it was a sunny day.

He had no windows. All he could see was white every day.

He was there for so long that he barely remembered anything from the outside. His last memory from the world outside was something blue until he woke up inside that padded room.

Now, Leon used to be experimented with almost every day.

He hated when those doctors went inside his room to take him somewhere else. He knew he would feel pain and return to his room with new open wounds, purple marks, and blood. Why? He can't answer.

The only thing he knew was that he was kidnapped by Umbrella. He was their lab rat. A helpless man who was abused and experimented every single day. They didn't care about him at all. He tried to escape a thousand times, but he failed every single one of them.

Today, however, was the worst.

Leon came back from another round of tests and experiments, and he was bleeding a lot. His entire body seemed to be burning with excruciating pain. He was on the verge of tears. He crawled to his bed, his body shaking. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to imagine somewhere peaceful, where he couldn't be hurt or touched by those monsters.

His eyes were about to cry when he heard someone walking inside. He slowly opened his eyes, his heart already beating faster inside his chest with pure fear. He was hoping to be one of the scientists, ready to take him again to the room.

But it wasn't one of the monsters.

"Hey" you said gently at him, your hand holding a first aid kit. "May I?"

You were pointing to his side, he followed your finger to his direction and with those scared eyes, he slightly nodded his head. Leon was taught — in the painful method — he wasn't allowed to talk with the scientists, only to talk when he was spoken to, and he could only say "yes, sir" or "yes, ma'am".

"I'm not gonna hurt you" You smiled very friendly at him, getting closer and kneeling next to his side. "It's okay, you can talk to me. I'm not gonna punish you"

"Who are you?" Leon asked, his voice full of suspicious and fear. You knew he was scared. You actually could tell he was terrified.

"I'm a cool and friendly scientist" You smiled and noticed that his eyes were on your ID, where he could read your name. "I'm the new supervisor. I saw that your ID is Experiment N⁰ One, but I'm not interested in titles and IDs. Can you tell me your name?"

Leon was now shocked. All the time he was in there, no one cared to know his name. To them, he was just a freak, an abomination. A lab rat. But you, you weren't like the others. You were the first person to show him kindness.

"I'm... Leon" he said, and the sound of his own name made him think he almost forgot who he was.

"Nice to meet you, Leon" You smiled again, stretching your hand so he could shake it. You noticed his arm full of scars, new cuts, and blood. "Let's take a look at those injuries, shall we?"

Leon watched you cautiously, his eyes filled with suspicion and fear. He had learned the hard way not to trust anyone in this place. But there was something about your demeanor that made him hesitate. You seemed genuinely concerned for his well-being.

You carefully cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch surprisingly gentle. As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes and spoke in a reassuring tone,

"You don't have to be afraid of me, Leon. I'm here to help, not to hurt." You said gently, using a wet cotton to clean one of his wounds.

You began to clean his wounds with a gentle touch, the antiseptic sting a harsh reminder of his painful existence. Leon winced as you tended to a particularly deep gash on his arm. Then, as if unable to contain his thoughts any longer, he spoke in a soft, broken voice.

"I miss the outside world," he admitted, his eyes glistening with unshed tears. "I don't understand why they're using us for these cruel and painful experiments. We're humans, not lab rats."

You paused for a moment, your hands still on his injured arm. Your eyes met his, filled with a mixture of empathy and helplessness.

"I know, Leon," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly. "I wish I had answers for you, but I'm just as much a pawn in this as you are. All I can do is try to ease your pain."

Leon went silent again. He had every reason to be suspicious towards you, and you couldn't blame him for this. Although your touch was gentle, and you moved with a quiet assurance that contrasted with the harsh, you could still feel the clinical atmosphere of the facility. Leon couldn't help but be suspicious, a feeling he had grown accustomed to over time.

As you worked, you noticed the fear in Leon's eyes, the deep-rooted mistrust that had taken hold of him after countless experiments and cruel treatment. You paused again for a moment, looking into his eyes with genuine concern.

"Leon," you began softly, "I can see that you're scared, and you have every reason to be. But I want you to know that I'm different. I'm not like the others who have come before me."

Leon regarded you with a mixture of skepticism and curiosity. He had heard similar promises in the past, only to be let down.

"I promise you, Leon, I'll be back to keep you some company. You're not just an experiment here. And I believe in treating you with the respect and kindness you deserve." You continued, yourr voice unwavering.

Leon studied your face, searching for any hint of deception, but he found none. Perhaps it was the sincerity in your eyes, or maybe it was the exhaustion of isolation that made him yearn for human connection once more.

"Okay," Leon whispered, his voice trembling with a mixture of hope and fear. "I'll be here."

"I'll be back, Leon. You're not alone in this anymore." You smiled, a glimmer of warmth in the cold, white, and sterile room.

With that promise, you finished cleaning Leon's wounds and left the room, leaving him with a newfound sense of anticipation and a flicker of hope that had long been extinguished. He was wondering why you were so kind at him because he was betrayed before. He had no reason to trust you.

Leon lay on the bed of his room, the sterile walls bearing silent witness to his torment. The memory of your unexpected kindness lingered in his mind like a flickering candle in the dark. He couldn't help but wonder why you had been different from the others, why you had chosen to treat his wounds with care.

His thoughts churned with suspicion and confusion. The trauma of the countless painful experiments he had endured had left him scarred, both physically and mentally. He had learned to trust no one in this sterile prison, where cruelty was the norm.

As Leon's mind raced, his heart pounded with anxiety. He questioned whether your kindness had been genuine or if it was merely a cruel ploy to manipulate him further. The fear that he had been fooled gnawed at him, twisting his already frayed nerves into tighter knots.

Hours turned into days, and Leon's stress and paranoia grew. He replayed every interaction with you in his mind, dissecting your words and actions for any signs of deceit. But the more he thought, the less he understood. You seemed genuinely different, but how could he be sure?

In the suffocating silence of his padded room, Leon's thoughts became a torment of their own. He longed for answers for a sliver of hope to cling to, but the shadows of doubt and fear loomed large. All he could do was wait, haunted by the uncertainty of your true intentions and the relentless trauma that had brought him to this point.

You were so busy during the weeks that you had no time to see anybody.

You were full with paperwork to do, files to read, and new reports to send to oversight. One file took all of your attention; it was the one from Leon. That said file had every report from the tests he was submitted into and what every supervisor before you did to him. You brought his file to your home. You needed to understand his condition better. All you knew was that he was there for years and he probably couldn't remember his own age. He was taken into the lab at a very young age, and he had no contact with the exterior.

No family, no friends. He was an orphan.

That's why he was the perfect subject for Umbrella. If he died, no one would come crying to collect his body. He had excellent grades at school, and he aspired to be a cop, which was according to his essays; Leon had everything the scientists were looking for, and that's why he was abducted so young. The sad part?

That boy was broken inside and out. His file had pictures of him being tested, naked, and exposed to a lot of painful experiments. They were doing atrocities with him, and now you could understand why he was looking terrified at you.

He was, at one point, drugged and abused. Those scientists under your supervision did a lot of things on him, and the more you read his file, the more disgusted you felt.

As you read through the file, your heart ached for Leon. You had met him only a few days ago, but in that short time, you had seen glimpses of the pain and trauma that haunted him. Now, with this file in your hands, you finally understood the full extent of his suffering.

The decision was clear in your mind.

You had to befriend him and offer him solace and support. In his condition, being manipulated, tortured and abused, hidden from the world, and unable to see the sun, Leon needed someone who wouldn't hurt him, someone who would stand by his side. You knew you had to do something. You needed time.

It was true that you were tired of everything you did for Umbrella Corporation.

Your soul was tainted with the horrors you made in the name of science. At least, you were trying to convince yourself you were doing good, even knowing you were actually drowned in chaos, your mind always remembering you that you were actually hurting others. You hated yourself every day.

You barely could look at your own image in the mirror.

At first, you were happy. After all, you have always been a loyal employee of Umbrella Corporation, working diligently in their research division. It was a prestigious job, one that paid well and provided you with a comfortable life. But it had also demanded your silence and your complicity in the face of questionable experiments and ethically dubious decisions.

But that thought changed after a year.

Suddenly, that beautiful image you had from them twisted into something dark and horrible. You had to face the truth, and it was crushing you.

You felt only shame and guilt. And it was burning you inside, and you couldn't sleep at night. Your conscience was heavy with everything you did for them, and now, you had one small opportunity to make things right. You had a small window, and you needed to act quickly.

After you arrived at the lab, the first thing you did was walk to his room. The security was high, but your ID card let you walk inside without any problem. And he was there. His white clothes had small spots of dried blood, and he seemed to be sleeping. You sighed.

"You came back" you hear him say, his voice surprised, and somehow, he wasn't so scared of you anymore.

"I told you I would come back. I'm sorry if I took long enough" you said, taking small steps towards him, because you don't know if he'll let you get closer.

"Why are you here?" Leon asks, and then you can notice he's fully aware and suspicious towards you. "Why do you care so much about me?"

"Let's just say... I want to make things right" you muttered, more to yourself than to him.

"I don't buy it" Leon looks at you, his eyes full of doubts and fears. Of course, he wouldn't trust you immediately. You needed to earn him first.

"I know, and you have every reason to do so. But I don't mind spending my time trying to convince you I mean no harm" you said, taking another step closer, as your hands lay next to your body to let him know you're telling the truth. "I'm the cool scientist, remember?"

Leon smirked, but it was a sarcastic one.

"All the others told me the same bullshit and look what happened to me!" He almost shouts, his voice sounds angry. "At the end of the day, you are all the same, and I end up bleeding with a new scar"

The tension in the room was palpable, like an electric charge in the air. Leon stood on one side, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his eyes locked in a steely glare. On the other side of the room, you were facing him with a calm determination that belied the storm raging within you.

"Leon, I need you to understand something," you finally began, your voice steady and resolute. "I said it before, but I won't hurt you. I know you don't trust me, but I promise you, I'm not here to harm you."

Leon's jaw tightened, and he took a step back, his distrust evident in every fiber of his being. He had been through too much in his life to simply trust someone, especially someone like you, who was a relative stranger.

"You're just like the others" Leon muttered, his voice a low growl. "And you're here only to bring me more pain"

"I know you've been let down in the past, Leon. But I want to help you. I believe in you, and I'm committed to seeing you well" You took a deep breath, trying to find the right words to break through Leon's wall of suspicion.

Leon's eyes flickered with a mix of anger and uncertainty. He had heard promises like this before, and they had always led to disappointment. He couldn't afford to be let down again, not when so much was at stake.

"Why should I believe you?" Leon demanded, his voice rising.

You took a step closer, closing the physical gap between the both of you, but realizing that the emotional gap was still vast.

"Because I've been where you are, Leon. I've faced my own demons and fought my own battles. I know what it's like to be in a dark place, and I want to be the light that guides you out of it." You said to him, your voice still showing respect and kindness.

Leon's anger seemed to waver, but he wasn't ready to let his guard down completely.

"Actions speak louder than words," he said, his voice softer now, but still laced with doubt.

"You're absolutely right, Leon. I can make promises all day, but it's my actions that will prove my sincerity. Give me a chance to show you that I mean what I say." You nodded in understanding.

As you extended your hand toward Leon, he hesitated for a moment before reluctantly reaching out to shake it. Your hands met, and in that simple gesture, a fragile bridge of trust began to form. You knew that gaining Leon's trust would be a long and challenging journey, but you were determined to prove to him that you are different, that you were there to help him heal, not hurt him.

Two months had passed by since your first meeting, and that day, you told him you weren't there to hurt him.

And every since that day, Leon still had trouble to trust you, despite all the attempts to befriend him. You were trying, and you knew you were getting in there. Slowly, but effective.

Leon had become all too familiar with the routine of his daily experiments. Each morning, they would escort him down the cold, sterile hallways of the facility, his heart heavy with dread. The scientists, faceless behind their masks and lab coats, were relentless in their pursuit of knowledge, no matter the cost.

Today was different, though. As they strapped him onto the cold metal table, he felt a shiver of apprehension. The restraints were tighter, the needles sharper, and the machines more ominous. Leon's breath quickened as he watched them prepare the apparatus, their voices hushed in clinical conversation.

"Definitely a freak" one of them muttered, and the other laughed. "I mean... look at him. Looks like a walking corpse or whatever he looks like"

Leon was also used to the mean comments they made about him. It was easy for them to mock him. After all, they didn't starve the way Leon did. They weren't underweight as he was, and, of course, they had a place to call home, where they could live a normal life — something that was taken from him.

The first shock sent searing pain coursing through his veins. Leon's body arched in agony, his screams echoing off the sterile walls. He clenched his fists, trying to endure the torment, but his willpower crumbled with each successive jolt.

Hours passed, or maybe it was mere minutes, but to Leon, it felt like an eternity. He lost track of time as they pushed him beyond his limits, subjecting him to doses of needles, shocks, burns, and the ice room. The pain was excruciating, and he wondered how much more his frail body could endure.

Finally, they released him from the restraints, and Leon fell to the cold, hard floor. He was drenched in sweat, his body trembling with the aftermath of the ordeal. His mind was a fog of agony, and he struggled to make sense of his surroundings as they dragged him back to his padded room.

As they locked the heavy door behind him, Leon crumpled to the ground, more hurt than he had ever been before. The pain was unbearable, but there was something else too — an overwhelming sense of despair. He knew that tomorrow would bring another round of experiments, and he was trapped in this never-ending nightmare with no hope of escape.

The harsh, buzzing fluorescent lights above Leon's padded room flickered as the heavy door creaked open. Suddenly, you stepped inside, your footsteps muted by the cushioned floor. You carried a small medical kit and wore a look of sympathy that clashed with your usual clinical demeanor. Something that both of you were used to do, since you were promoted to supervision.

Leon lay on the floor, his body battered and broken from the day's experiments. His breath came in ragged gasps, and his face was contorted with pain. Silently, you knelt beside him, your gloved hands gentle as yoi began to assess his injuries.

The room was cold, the sterile walls offering no comfort. You worked in silence, tending to Leon's wounds with meticulous care that seemed out of place in this cold, heartless facility. You cleaned and dressed his wounds, your touch as tender as it was professional.

As you worked, Leon's eyes filled with tears. He had endured so much, and the pain had become his constant companion. But it was your expected kindness that broke the dam. The tears streamed down his face, and he choked back sobs, unable to contain the flood of emotions that overwhelmed him.

You paused in your ministrations, your eyes meeting Leon's with a mixture of understanding and sorrow. You didn't say a word, but your presence alone offered a glimmer of humanity in this otherwise soulless place.

Leon's sobs became louder, and his body was now jointing. He felt pain, and he was truly scared. He couldn't hold his feelings anymore.

"Please, you have to help me. They... they won't stop. I can't take it anymore." Leon's tears flowed freely now as he looked up at you, his voice choked with pain and desperation.

Gently, you set aside your medical supplies and leaned closer to him, your voice soft and soothing.

"It's going to be okay, Leon," you whispered. "I promise you, I'll find a way to end your suffering. You don't deserve this. I'll do whatever it takes to make sure this ends".

"I... I can't do this anymore..." Leon sobs again, not caring with you seeing his tears. He was desperate. "Please..."

You sighed heavily, your heart aching with the sight of him hurt like that. You needed to help him. You needed to do something.

"I'll see what I can do" you whispered, then you wiped the tears from his eyes. "Now, take some rest"

Leon cried until he fell asleep, curled with his blanket. When you saw him like that, you knew you were done with Umbrella and everything they did. Something was forming inside your mind; a plan? An escape route? Where would you take him? How?

You had a lot of questions and, unfortunately, no answers.

Over the next weeks, you started to prepare your escape. You already had your resignation letter written and a safe location to take Leon. You even took a weekend off just to prepare the place to take him. You had medical supplies, clothes, food, and everything you both would need.

It was risky, but you needed to try.

You had secretly collected a stash of supplies over the months, carefully hidden away in the recesses of your country house. You knew the facility's routines and security measures like the back of your hand. You had observed the guards' shifts and the vulnerabilities in their surveillance. You were more than prepared.

This would be the night.

When you went inside his room, he wasn't there. You checked his schedule and saw he was — again — in the experiment room. You had finally reached your breaking point. You couldn't bear to see Leon's suffering continue any longer.

Leon's condition had deteriorated to the point where he could barely move, let alone stand. You knew you had to act swiftly and decisively. You had already obtained a wheelchair, hidden away in a storage closet for weeks, just waiting for the right moment. You walk inside the building, trying to find the right room. Your mind and heart racing with thousand of thoughts.

Until you hear him.

Strapped to a cold metal table, he braced himself for the pain he knew was coming. The first shock hit him like a lightning bolt, searing through his body and causing his muscles to convulse. Leon clenched his teeth, tears streaming down his face as he struggled to endure. The room echoed with his screams, a symphony of suffering that went unheard beyond these walls.

"Stop this experiment now!" You commanded, your voice cutting through the chaos as you burst into the room.

"But... why?" One of the scientists asks, confused.

"I've made a new schedule. He's not going to be tested today" you replied harshly.

The scientists froze, their instruments suspended mid-air. You hurried to Leon's side, releasing him from his restraints with urgency. You spared no time in scooping him up gently, cradling his trembling body in your arms.

"But what are we supposed to do now?" The same scientist asked again, still confused.

"There's another test subject. You can use them" you said, helping Leon stand up.

Saying that, you carried him out of the experiment room, Leon's vision blurred, and he could barely comprehend what was happening. He clung to the sensation of being held, of being rescued from the torment he was passing through.

You took him back to his padded room, laying him down on the bed. You knelt beside him, your expression a mix of sympathy and anger.

"Rest now, Leon," you said softly, brushing his hair away from his tear-stained face. "I won't let them hurt you like this anymore. This will end today, I promise"

Leon tried to mutter something, but he was so tired that his words were beyond comprehension. You went back to your office, just waiting for the perfect time.

You were nervous, and anyone could tell that you were more aggressive than usual, despite the fact that you were always kind to everyone. This plan needed to work, or both of you would definitely die. Your eyes were glued to the watch in your wall, and the time seemed to freeze.

Your heart ached, and you felt anxious.

When the clock finally turned midnight, you knew what you needed to do. Silently, with a heavy heart, you approached Leon's padded room, your pulse quickening with each step. You had prepared a syringe with a sedative, a necessary measure to keep him asleep and prevent him from experiencing any more pain.

Entering the room, you saw Leon lying on the padded bed, his eyes hollow and empty. His frail body was a mere shell of what it had once been, and you couldn't help but feel a deep sense of sorrow for him. You administered the sedative with a gentle touch, whispering soothing words to him as he slipped into a deep, dreamless slumber.

Carefully, you lifted Leon's limp form and gently placed him in the wheelchair. You secured him with the safety straps, ensuring he wouldn't fall during their escape. Then you wheeled him out of the room, moving with purpose through the corridors, your heart heavy with the weight of your escape plan.

As you both approached your car parked discreetly in the shadows, you couldn't help but glance back at the facility you both were leaving behind — a place of horrors, pain, and despair. You had made a difficult choice, one that would change both of your lives forever, but you were determined to keep Leon safe, even if it meant going to great lengths to do so.

With Leon sedated and safely secured in the wheelchair, you carefully loaded him into your car, your eyes never leaving his peaceful, albeit frail form.

"I've got you" you whispered, covering his weak body with a blanket and then closing the door.

The night was a tapestry of stars above as you drove, your eyes fixed on the darkened road ahead. Hours stretched on, the miles slipping away beneath the tires of your car. In the back seat, Leon lay motionless, a fragile figure in the interior, protected by the cozy blanket and the warm air.

Every so often, you stole a glance at the rearview mirror, your worry etched on your face. You constantly checked on him to make sure he was still asleep and unharmed. His breathing was steady, a reassuring rhythm amidst the uncertainty of your journey.

The countryside passed by in a blur of shadowy trees and moonlit fields. You kept driving, the tension in your shoulders slowly easing as the miles between you two and the lab grew. You couldn't help but think about the risk you had taken, the consequences if you were caught, but the determined look in Leon's eyes when he had awakened for a brief moment had given you the strength to carry on.

Finally, you two arrived at your country house, a remote sanctuary nestled far from prying eyes. You parked the car in the driveway and carefully opened the back door. Leon remained peacefully asleep, his vulnerability tugging at your heartstrings.

Gently, she took him from the car to the wheelchair, your arms trembling with the weight of his frail form. You took him into the cozy house, the scent of pine and wood welcoming them. You placed him in a comfortable bed, covering him with a warm blanket.

You watched over him for a while, relief washing over you as you saw that he was still sleeping peacefully. You knew this new journey was far from over, that you both had many challenges ahead, but in this moment, under the soft moonlight that filtered through the curtains, Leon was safe.

As exhaustion finally caught up with you, you settled into a chair in the room, your eyes never leaving Leon's slumbering figure. You were determined to protect him, to give him a chance at a life free from the horrors of the lab.

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains of the country house, casting a gentle glow on the room. Leon began to stir, his eyelids fluttering open. Confusion washed over him as he realized he was no longer in the familiar confines of the lab.

Panic welled up within him, and he tried to sit up, but his body felt heavy and weak. As he struggled, tears welled up in his eyes, and he cried out in despair.

You had been dozing in a nearby chair, tired that you fell asleep quickly, then you awoke with a start. You rushed to Leon's side, your voice filled with soothing reassurance.

"Leon, it's alright. You're safe now. You're not in the lab anymore." You tell him, your voice calm and kind.

"I... I can't believe it," he stammered, his voice trembling. "Is this real?" Leon's breaths came in ragged sobs as he looked at you, his eyes searching for the truth in your words.

You nodded, your eyes filled with empathy.

"Yes, it's real," you whispered. "You're free now, Leon. No more experiments, no more pain."

Tears streamed down Leon's cheeks as he absorbed the reality of his situation. He had spent so long in that nightmarish place that the idea of escape had seemed impossible. But here, in this tranquil room, with you by his side, hope blossomed within him. You reached out and gently brushed the tears from his face.

"It's okay to cry, Leon," you said softly. "You've been through so much. But now, we're going to build a new life together, away from the lab."

As Leon's sobs gradually subsided, he clung to your words, the promise of a brighter future. In your compassionate presence, he began to believe that perhaps, just perhaps, he could leave the horrors of the lab behind and find a life filled with warmth and kindness.

Leon finally felt the sun touching his skin. Finally, he was allowed to see the sunrise and to see the world again.

He was free.

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irkimatsu · 8 months

Text

God will never stop my sinful hand. More Husk/Reader! Clothes stay on but it's still spicy, gonna call 18+ on this one. Husk gets to nut his pants, good for him. You and Husk make out, you discover that his wings are an erogenous zone, and good times are had by all. Completely gender-neutral reader, nothing to point it in any direction gender-wise. This is about making Husk moan, that is all

Your relationship with Husk has progressed over the past few months.

What state it’s progressed to, you’re not quite sure. You’re far from the point of declaring undying love for each other; hell, Husk is hesitant about the word “love” in general. He doesn’t want to say it, and he doesn’t want to hear it. You haven’t had sex with him, either; you have no idea how you’d ask, and he hasn’t broached the subject himself.

But that doesn’t mean that you haven’t done anything together that could be construed as special. Even if he’s in no rush to define whatever it is you two have going on, he’s still shown you plenty of his romantic side. He likes taking you out for dinner and shows, events that are way too fancy for you to merely think of them as friendly outings.

The amount of times you’ve come home from a play to immediately make out in one of your rooms, before falling asleep in the same bed, made things seem even less “friendly”.

You didn’t even need the excuse of a date to start making out. Some nights, like tonight, all it took was some drinks and conversation at the hotel bar before you were both sure that the rest of the hotel was asleep or otherwise absent. As soon as he knew it was safe to close down for the night, the two of you headed up to his room for some soft jazz music and some tender, passionate kissing. He used to be so withdrawn with you, as if afraid you’d shatter if he touched you too firmly, but he’s gotten more bold recently, taking it upon himself to hold you close in his arms.

There’s no way you’d tell him, but you prefer cuddling with him when he’s dressed down like this, only wearing suspenders without a shirt. His fur is so soft and warm, and the fewer layers of clothing between you and it, the better.

You know to be careful with your compliments. He’s confided in you that he can’t stand what he’s become as a demon, and that he wishes he still had his human body.

But you can’t deny it. Some of your favorite parts of him, physically, are the parts that aren’t human.

His hat came off his head shortly into the proceedings, so you’re free to comb your hand through the tuft of hair on his head. It’s much more messy and wild than it is on your dates; he has zero reason to style it when he’s wearing his hat. You love it like this, though. It’s one of the softest things you’ve ever touched. Could human hair ever glide beneath your fingers this wonderfully?

You’re trying not to think of it as “petting” him. You know he hates that word. Perhaps “stroking” would work better for him? You stroke the top of his head, then move down to scratch the back. He stays calm, still kissing you like normal, so you keep moving until both of your hands reach the backs of his ears.

He jolts back from the touch.

“Sorry!” you cry out immediately. “Was that too far?”

“I’m sensitive back there,” he says, one ear still twitching from the contact. “Could you warn me next time?”

“Sorry!” you repeat. You know his irritability isn’t personal against you, but you still hate hearing that tone from him…

“It’s fine,” he says, quickly softening now that the shock is wearing off. “I didn’t hate it. You just gotta warn me before you do stuff like that.”

“Do you want to keep going?” you ask. “I can leave if you want me to.”

“You’re not going anywhere.” He’s smiling again as he pulls you against his body. “Mind doing that again, now that I’m expecting it?”

You nod, and as he resumes kissing your mouth, you go back to scratching his ears. It’s a weird feeling, being able to touch someone like this during a make-out session; but you appreciate the novelty, especially when every inch of him feels so perfect beneath your fingers.

“Can you go lower?” he asks. “While scratching like that?”

You accept his request, scratching your way from his ears to his cheeks. His fur is so thick here, and it’s hard for you to pull your hands away from how divine it feels, but you have so much more to explore. You continue your scratches down to his neck, then to his shoulders. One of his suspender straps slips off while you’re scratching, and you’re dying to see how he looks when he’s slightly disheveled.

But looking would require you to stop kissing him, and you’re not ready to stop yet.

You’re so eager to feel even more of him. You touch him lower, reaching the small of his back and rubbing the spot where his wings meet his body.

He gasps and pulls away from you again. It takes him a moment to catch his breath.

“Husk?” you ask, not entirely sure what you did but already regretting it.

“...shit.” He exhales heavily. “Shit. Haven’t been touched there in a long time…”

“Did I do something wrong?”

“Uh…” he laughs nervously. “Not wrong, but… you probably shouldn’t do that. Not unless…” He stops himself and shakes his head. “No. You shouldn’t.”

“Why not?” It didn’t look like it hurt him…

“It’s… an intimate spot.” Even through his fur, you can see him blushing. “Wings are sensitive. You shouldn’t touch them unless you want to turn somebody on.”

That information, combined with the sight of him with his suspender straps hanging off his shoulders, is turning some interesting gears in your head.

A playful smile grows on your face. “So what you’re saying is, if I want to turn you on…” You lean in closer, but don’t touch him yet; it’s up to him to close the gap if he so chooses.

Husk swallows. “If you want to…” He places his paws on your sides, holding you as timidly as he did when things first started. “I don’t wanna rush you into that, though.”

“You’re not rushing me.” You gently kiss his nose and scratch one of his cheeks.

You think you hear a purr in his throat, but you know better than to bring it up.

“Then go ahead,” he says, uttering it quickly to reduce the amount of time he has to spend not holding and kissing you. You quickly get back into the rhythm of things, repeating your hands’ earlier motions. He remains calm as you scratch his ears, his cheeks, his shoulders…

His waist bucks up into you when you touch the base of his wings, but he doesn’t pull away.

You start out slowly and fleetingly, not sure how much pressure he needs to feel the effects of your touches. Clearly it doesn’t take much. Within seconds, he’s squeezing you tightly and moaning into your mouth.

Where else is he sensitive, you wonder? You slowly run your fingertip along the edge of one of his wings, and his whole body shivers against yours.

“Fuck…” he mutters beneath his breath before kissing you again. “Gentle…”

You follow his request, lightly petting his wing with a single finger. It’s still enough to get him to kiss you harder and keep cursing under his breath. You run your finger back down to the joint and start pressing, steadily becoming more firm in your touch to test his reaction.

You eventually reach a point that makes him cry out, then breathe too heavily to kiss you anymore.

“Fuuuuuck…” His eyes are unfocused, and he seems unsure of what to do with himself. “Give me a second…”

You take your hands off of his body to let him compose himself. Once he’s finally aware of his surroundings again, he rests his head on your shoulder and squeezes your waist in his arms. He’s nuzzling his soft cheek against your neck, and you don’t know if it’s making you feel more ticklish or aroused.

Both? Fuck, definitely both.

“Could you scratch under them?” he asks.

You place your hands beneath his wings and begin to scratch the joints from that angle. His feathers brush against your hands as he lightly flaps to your touch, and his hot breaths on your neck are rapidly increasing in strength and tempo.

“Harder,” he moans through gritted teeth, and you comply. The sounds he’s making now are downright lewd, mixed with the occasional inhuman growl. He’s grinding his waist against your leg, and even with his pants still on it’s obvious how excited you’re making him. His current behavior is so undignified for the gentleman who’s been taking you on dates and playing you songs for the past few months.

It’s a side of him you want to see even more of.

“Fuck, I can’t stop…” he squeezes your leg between his own and grinds furiously, his rapid breaths turing into high-pitched whines. “Fuck, fuck-”

You keep on touching him, delighting in how badly it’s making him squirm.

“Gonna- fuck-” He lifts his waist as if he’s trying to pull away from you, but the death grip his legs have on you won’t allow it. “I can’t-”

“Go ahead,” you assure him, rubbing his wing joints just a little harder.

Whether it’s from the touch or the permission, you’ve awakened something inside him. Still a mess of growls, moans, and whines, he latches his mouth onto the side of your neck and starts nipping while his hips grind furiously into your leg. You moan along with him, fingers digging into his back to keep yourself stable just as much as they are to please him. It’s not long before he’s moaning against your neck as a wet spot pools in the spot where he’s still humping you.

He falls limp in your arms, and you immediately relieve the pressure on his wings, instead choosing to gently stroke his lower back. His breathing is heavy, but steady as he nuzzles into your neck again.

“Fuck…” His vocabulary isn’t the most varied right now.

He seems so spent after that, so you carefully lay him stomach-down on the bed, making certain not to give his surely-sensitive wings the slightest bit of stimulation. He folds his arms beneath his chin, and he laughs.

“Haa… gotta do that again. It’s been forever since I felt that good…”

You’d love to cuddle him in this state, but until you can figure out how to do that without disturbing his wings, you’ll settle for sitting next to him and watching him relax.

“Hey… Husk?” You ask. “I wanna ask you something…”

“Hm?” He doesn’t open his eyes as he answers.

“Would you have let someone else do that? Would you have enjoyed it as much?”

“What are you talking about?” He’s frowning in concern, forehead creased, but still not opening his eyes.

“It’s just… I don’t know what we are. Are we together, or…?”

He reaches out to gently squeeze your hand. “I don’t like putting names on this stuff. It’s just asking for trouble. All I know is that I only want to be touched like that by someone I really trust, and right now, the person I trust that much is you.”

“And if you trusted someone else…?”

He’s laughing again. “Someone else, when I have you already? Not happening. Come on. Lay down with me.”

You lay on your stomach beside him, and he drapes his arm around you and pulls you against his side. His wing descends on you, and he winces slightly from the touch, but it’s not enough to keep him from covering you like a blanket.

“And you know…” he continues. “Not that I wanna control you… but I’d like knowing you don’t touch anyone else like that.”

“Someone else, when I have you already?”

He makes a low, amused noise as you parrot his words back at him. “Okay… good.” He squeezes you close and kisses your cheek. “Now, tell me something else.”

“What is it?”

“I wanna return the favor. Where should I start?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin husk #hazbin husk x reader #hazbin hotel husk x reader #irk blubbers about nothing #irk huskposts #there i have a tag for him now

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papercorgiworld · 7 months

Text

A fair chance

Tom II and you are dating, but aside from Tom's struggle to come to terms with his feelings for you, your friends are now also getting involved with your relationship.

This is part two, read 'If you had known, would you've come' first.

No warnings, just fluff and maybe some angst.

I planned on finishing the amnesia request first, but for some reason my brain was like nah Tom fic first, so here we are. I expect to have the amnesia request (probably tilted: can you forgive what I forgot) online somewhere Sunday. I love you tumblr peoples and as always: happy readings!

Your class had just been dismissed and you walked with your books in hand out with Luna, when Hermoine jumped in front of you. “I think that after lunch I’m gonna head to the library to review the extra material professor Mcgonagall advised us to read. You guys wanna join me?” Luna nodded, before agreeing with a gentle voice. “Sure.” They both turn to you and you can’t help but feel hesitant to tell them you already had plans with a certain someone. “I can’t.” You sigh, before continuing in the direction of the great hall and Hermoine frowns, clearly noticing that you’re holding something back. “I’m meeting Tom-” Hermoine’s eyes widen. “Again?” Harry’s voice comes out of nowhere and you turn a little to give him a sheepish look. “We study together regularly. He’s an excellent study partner.” Luna ignores the obvious tension and smiles at you. “Are you two dating?” Panic fills your eyes at her question. Damn it, Luna, you can’t just ask people if they are dating the dark lord’s eldest son.

“No, not really. We’re just getting to know each other better.” Hermoine, Ron and Harry stare at you in disbelief. “And how’s that going?” Ron questions with a skeptical tone and obvious look. There’s an uncomfortable silence. “Okay, I guess, his favorite subjects are potions and magical theory.” You curse yourself at your weird answer in an already awkward situation. A forced smile makes its way to Harry’s face as he nods. “Neat.” Neat? Now even Luna feels herself get uneasy. You sigh loudly and start walking slowly as your friends follow. “Would it be so bad if I decide to go out with him on another date? I mean Daisy’s dating Mattheo and despite our worries over their relationship… so far so good, right.”

The group splits up for a moment to take their seats at the table, but Hermoine watches you for a moment debating whether she should speak up or not. “Look, (y/n), Mattheo’s a first class asshole and I don’t know what Daisy sees in him, but at least Mattheo is an asshole to everyone equally.” Ron who’s eagerly filling his plate nods in agreement with Hermoine’s argument before she continues. “Tom has a specific preference of people, being pureblood and slytherin. Everyone else is lesser than him. You know that, that’s why you’ve hated him from day one. So, how can one date with him make you forget who he really is and how he treats everyone?” You look down at your plate, really feeling bad about liking Tom. Hermoine was right, you knew who he was, so why did you kiss him? Why did you suddenly feel like he was so much more? You look at your friend and back to your plate, before excusing yourself. “I’m not really hungry, I think I’m gonna skip.” Harry judges Hermoine. “What?” Hermoine asks, looking away. “I get that you’re worried, but she can’t help it… I think she really likes him.” Ron frowns. “I think he’s got her under some kind of spell. Or maybe he has a secret agenda.”Hermoine and Harry look at Ron, getting worried that he might have a point.

***

Tom looks up at you from his quiet spot near the black lake, neatly seated on a conjured bench with a book levitating near him. You give him a weak smile as you can’t help but feel bad about meeting him after Hermoine’s argument. He watches you carefully as you sit down next to him, to him it feels like the air just got warmer and the sun finally touches his face, warming him. You stare at him as you search for words and he dips his head a little waiting for you to talk, but something changes your mind and you turn away from him watching the water for a moment before reaching for your books. “Not that I mind the quiet, but I thought the point of us hanging out was to get to know each other better.” Tom’s voice radiates calmness, but at the same time you feel his eyes focus on your every expression, determined to find out what you were thinking.

“You should meet my friends.” You finally say in one breath. There’s a silence as he processes your offer. “I know them. I’ve met them. No need for more interactions.” You turn to him with disapproving eyes, but before you can make an argument he speaks up sternly. “Trust me, no good will come of it.” You look back at the water and a frustrated half laugh escapes you, making Tom narrow his eyes at you. “Then how do you expect anything good to come from us meeting up?” Tom considers your words and turns to join you in watching the black lake. “I believe you can make up your own mind and I only want to ask you out on another date, not them.” You sigh, before turning and he meets your eyes. “It would be easier if they didn’t hate you.” Tom’s eyes fill with concern for you. Easy? That’s the one thing I can’t offer you, darling. For a moment Tom regrets getting you involved with him, but when you place a hand on his thigh and your eyes lock with his he couldn’t care less, because he knew you belonged with him.

“If I were to ask you to meet me tomorrow evening at the clock tower for another date at 8pm… would you say yes?” Tom's eyes stick to your hand on his leg as a smile tugs on your lips. You adored his gentleness and how he always acted composed, but still in a quiet way showed so much emotion when he was with you. “Are you asking me on another date?” You wiggle your eyebrows when he looks up to you. He chuckles. “You have me all figured out, don’t you?” He jokes and he watches your smile grow brighter. Oh Salazar, how can one person have me feel so much all at once. It’s almost too much for one man. “I would love to. I’ll be there. Tomorrow, 8 pm, the clock tower.”

***

Tom thought back to the moment you had repeated the time and place. You looked so happy, so willing to go out with him again… So why weren’t you here? Tom's eyes fell from the sky to his watch and it was hard to admit, but it had been a while since he had felt this much pain nagging at his chest. Gently Tom let a flower, your favorite, fall on a nearby bench. There was no need to extend his time of suffering by waiting for someone who was wise enough to choose ‘easy’, to choose a life away from him.

As he leaves the clock tower behind him to return to the slytherin common room, somewhere in the castle you run, out of breath, but with only one goal. Please, please. Quick steps down the empty stairs. I beg you just wait a little longer. Harshly pushing doors open as you hurry. I need you to still be there, Tom, please.

Panting you arrive to find no one. A frustrated sound mingles with a curse as you circle around. You check your watch and groan, but when you look up you spot the most beautiful flower, resting lonely on a cold bench. My favourite. You feel your heart ache as you pick it up. He probably planned another amazing date with a carefully picked scenery just for you and you hadn’t even managed to get there in time.

With your heart still racing from all the running you feel yourself move again.

***

“I’m assuming it didn’t go very well?” Mattheo grins, but his twisted smile quickly fades when he sees his always so cold brother fail to hide his pained eyes. “Really nothing gets past you, Mattheo.” Tom responds calmly, but the venom in his words was obvious to Mattheo’s ears. Tom turns away and Mattheo curses himself for being insensitive and, worse, feeling bad after it, like his brother deserved any sympathy. Mattheo grits his teeth, but decides to be the bigger person. “I didn’t mean to jab an open wound or anything.” Tom turns around with dead eyes, he didn’t need nor want his younger brother’s sympathy. “You wanna hug it out?” Tom fakes a pout to ridicule his brother’s emotional statement. “Don’t ever mistake me for someone who cares.” Tom’s voice is stern and cold, but just as he raises that last wall in an attempt to shut off all those overwhelming feelings the common room door swings open and you run through it almost bumping into Tom.

“I’m sorry! I’m so sorry! I was working on a project with Hermoine and it went wrong and she was freaking and then I was freaking and then we started over again but she wanted to be extra sure that it was right and she had me do all these extra steps and I knew I was gonna be late, but I ran and I ran and I scraped my arm against this door that wouldn’t open and I- I- I’m so so sorry. I should’ve been on time or message you or- or- I’m sorry.” Both Riddles stare at you as you rant, pointing at your scraped arm, but as soon as you’re done Mattheo’s eyes move to Tom who feels all those carefully put up walls crashing down. You stare at Tom searching for forgiveness and comforting words, but he just looks down at his watch and you feel stupid for thinking he would be understanding. “If we hurry we can still make it.” Mattheo smiles to himself as his brother reaches for your hand and heads for the door. Oh, brother you care, you care so much.

You watch your hand in his as you hurry through the castle back to the clock tower where Tom reveals a secret door that brings you to a beach. “Where are we?” You ask looking around not recognizing anything. “That doesn’t matter.” He says with his eyes focused on the sky, while softly squeezing your hand. With puzzled eyes you watch his features in the dark, before slowly following his gaze. For several seconds you stare at an empty dark sky. You frown as you focus, searching for what Tom is so excited about. “I don’t see it.” You whisper focused on the darkness above you. “Wait for it. The most beautiful things show themselves only rarely. You have to wait for them.” Tom’s voice is soft and reassuring. Motivated by his words you adore the sky and wait.

Your lips part as the sky lights up and you get to watch the most beautiful meteor shower. You take a step as if your body wants to get closer to the amazing scene around you. If it wasn’t for Tom’s fingers entangled with yours you would surely fly amongst them. “I’m in love.” You whisper and Tom looks at you, eyes still focused on the sky. Me too, darling, me too.

***

Hermoine leaves the library book tightly pressed against her chest and focused on whatever little mission she has planned next, when Tom appears next to her. “I must say, as a slytherin and a professional cunning manipulator, I admire your persistence and dedication to ruin my date with (y/n).” Hermoine’s heart races and her eyes fill with fear despite her attempt to keep a brave face. “However, as impressed as I am, I would really appreciate it if you would come clean to (y/n) about your actions and intentions.” Hermoine turns away from Tom as she tries to walk faster than him. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Gritting his teeth, Tom grabs Hermoine’s arm. “Listen here, you little mud-muggle-” Hermoine frowns at how he changes his insult last minute. Tom rolls his eyes at her frown. “Give me credit for trying, okay.” He says dryly in his own defense, making Hermoine raise an unimpressed eyebrow.

“(y/n) and I deserve a fair chance.” Tom argues trying to convince Hermoine who just crosses her arms and Tom continues his argument. “You can try and fight this, but I’ll fight as well.” Hermoine is surprised to find determination instead of aggression in his voice. It wasn’t a threat to her, it was a promise to you and to her own surprise Hermoine couldn’t help but find justice in his argument. So Hermoine bites her tongue as she struggles to make peace with the man in front of her, but Tom just smirks. “Keep your pride, muggle. We don’t need to be friends. We just need to be honest.” With those words he leaves and the Gryffindor watches him confused about the silent agreement that they had just made.

She hurries to the Gryffindor common room and heads straight to the boys' dorm. “Cancel the plan.” The Weasley twins frown at Hermoine’s words. “To late. We already poisoned his drink.” Hermoine’s eyes widen and Harry takes a step towards her. “Why would we cancel the plan?” Hermoine sighs, frustrated by the situation. “Because I don’t think Tom is dating (y/n) for some secret evil plan. Nor has he cursed her in any way. I think they’re genuinely in love.” Everyone in the room is baffled. “So what? He won’t reveal his evil plan to her?” Fred questions and Hermoine shakes her head. “But then what will the potion make him say?” George adds and Hermoine takes a deep breath. “Well, it will do as a truth potion is supposed to do, it will make him tell the truth.”

***

Tom felt some nagging feeling in the back of his head but couldn’t quite put his finger on it. Unaware of the truth potion in his system, slowly triggering his brain into honesty, the slytherin makes his way to your classroom to wait for you. Never thought I would spend my free time waiting for a girl. Love is a ridiculous thing. Tom leans against the wall opposite of your classroom door, he closes his eyes as he hears the professor talk and chairs shuffle. He frowns and opens his eyes when he feels this sudden urge to tell someone the honest truth. However, his thoughts of worry are interrupted when the door opposite of him swings open and several noisy students eager to leave walk fill the hallway.

Mattheo looks up when he sees his brother and his eyebrows knit together. Tom shakes his head at his younger brother. “Not here for you.” Mattheo smiles and turns around to see you leave the classroom. “Oh right.” Tom rolls his eyes as he sees a smirk tug on his younger brother’s lips. “Whatever you are thinking, do not say it out loud.” Tom warns, before walking towards you, feeling himself get all happy and giddy as you meet his eyes and give him a warm smile. It felt almost wrong for him to have this wonderful moment of being welcomed so warmly. Every nerve in his body is screaming to kiss you, but Tom refrains from doing this believing that making your relationship a spectacle for everyone to see is beneath him. Though part of him would very much like everyone to know how much you truly belong with and to him.

Shoulder to shoulder you walk in the direction of an empty hallway. “Did Granger talk to you by any chance?” Tom’s question has you look up at him, frowning as you think back, before shaking. “No, but she did send me a note to meet up later.” Tom hums and now you’re definitely curious. “Do you know something?” Tom just smiles, but then shakes his head. “I’ll leave her to tell you the truth.” You make a weird face at his vagueness, but decide to let it go in favor of the little game you and Tom had been playing the last few days. “I have another get-to-know-one-another question.” You announce with a joyful voice and Tom looks at you with amusement, waiting for your question. “What do you like to do for fun?” You playfully narrow your eyes at Tom and he thinks for a moment, while gently interlacing his fingers with yours now that you’re in a less crowded hallway.

“Reading.” He finally answers and your shoulders sink at his lame answer. “Reading dark and brooding books doesn’t count as fun.” You argue and a sly smirk tugs on his lips. “Well, darling, we can’t all read cheap fluffy fanfictions on Tumblr.” Your eyes widen. “How do you-? And they’re not cheap! They are very fluffy, I’ll admit that, but how-?” He smiles at you and interrupts you before you ask questions he does not want to answer. “That’s really not the point, though, the point is everyone has their preferred genre.” You huf and stop him, pulling him towards you. “But what do you really really love? What’s something that brings joy in your life? What’s something you wish you could do every second of the day?”

Tom’s plan was to chuckle and say: I love reading dark and brooding books.

However, the truth potion had now fully flooded his brain and the true answer to these questions slipped out before he could stop himself. “More than anything, I love you, (y/n). You bring me joy, you make me happy. You bring light into every gray day. I wish I could spend every second with you, because everything is so much better when you’re with me. When you’re with me, I see color where all is gray without you.”

Tom felt his heart race as these honest but unintended words came out of his own mouth. The few people walking in the hallway had stopped to stare, either baffled or horrified by what they had just heard. Tom felt something he seldom experienced, embarrassment and vulnerability. Dating you was one thing, but admitting he loved you. He wasn’t ready to face his own feelings yet… leave alone your opinion on them. He scanned the hallway, scowling at those who were still staring, before bravely looking down at you. As soon as your eyes lock with his, your hands reach for his cheeks, cupping them and pulling him closer to meet you halfway. Lips softly landing on his, there is an intensity to the kiss as you try to express all the love you feel for him in one single action. “Why?” Tom asks when the kiss breaks and you smile at his confused tone. “Because you empower me to keep on seeing and bringing color. Because as different as we are, you make me feel loved in every small detail and difference.”

The softest chuckle escapes Tom. “I didn’t plan on telling you all this, but I’m glad I did.” You smile and kiss him again, while he pulls you into a tight embrace.

***

Sitting on a bench in the courtyard Harry, Hermoine, Ron, Fred, George and Ginny all sheepishly look down as you pace in front of them. “How could you do all these things? You should be ashamed of yourselves?” Tom can’t hide his amusement as you lecture them, with crossed arms he watches you rant for a few seconds. “He should kill you idiots for this?” Tom’s smile grows a little wider at your words and decides it’s time to calm you down. You feel his arm snake around your waist. “I should… but I won’t.” He places a soft kiss on your temple, more than pleased that your friends have now given him a chance to act all merciful and force them to accept your relationship.

Feedback is always welcome.

Word count: 3223

#slytherin #slytherin boys #tom ii riddle #tom riddle imagine #tom riddle #tom riddle x reader #papercorgiworldwritings

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sibylsleaves · 4 months

Note

What happens after buck and eddie get together.

hello friend IM SO GLAD YOU ASKED

There are literally SOOOOOO many fun storylines that could come out of this but like, first of all, how do you even start a relationship that you're basically already in the middle of??? This is NOTHING like starting a relationship with someone new, or even someone you're casually friends with (as you could argue Buck and Taylor were) this is...starting a relationship when you already know that in the event of your death this is the person you want to raise your child. This is starting a relationship knowing this person has already seen you at the lowest of your lows, that this person knows EVERY intimate, embarrassing, silly detail about you. like yeah that's beautiful but I also think it would be surprisingly difficult to navigate.

Like. Especially if you're Buck and Eddie who both, in different ways, have such an idealized view of romance (I would actually argue Eddie more so than Buck in many ways). And yeah, i think they've done a lot of work to deconstruct that BEFORE they even get together, but it's still like...a complete rewiring of the way you operate in a romantic relationship and that's not going to happen overnight. They're going to stumble over little things that feel awkward or unnatural because maybe they're still trying to fit this into a more familiar version of romance before they realize they don't HAVE to do that. Do they just continue on the way they've been but now they kiss and have sex? Do they start going on dates? Do they start calling each other pet names? How much time is it acceptable to spend with a brand new romantic partner who is also the man named in your will to raise your child if you die AND ALSO your coworker who you see for 24 hours at a time. Do they have different ideas about the answers to these questions and how do they navigate THAT?

And speaking of being coworkers, is there gonna be conflict with the 118 because it's technically against policy for them to date and be on the same shift? Maybe one of them transfers to a different shift but oh no now they never see each other! Cue a storyline where they prove how good of a team they are and that the fire chief (or whoever) shouldn't force bobby to separate them. And also, their lives are SO intertwined that whenever a conflict arises it's like. Who am I supposed to get an outside perspective from? YOU are the person I always go to with my relationship problems. And literally everyone else I know is ALSO your friend. So potentially we'd get some opening up of more relationships on the show, particularly for Eddie who almost ALWAYS goes to either Buck or, less frequently, Bobby with relationship issues. (Buck still has Maddie) But like. Bobby is BASICALLY Buck's dad so???? and even Carla, who seems to be at this point lowkey written out of the show, knew Buck first!!!! Eddie either has to talk to his parents (difficult because they've never approved of his relationships in the past and I think it's still probably touchy subject for them), Pepa (i actually love this option but also she's a different generation and sometimes you really DO need the opinion of someone who intimately understands modern relationships. Or maybe we get Eddie rekindling his friendship with Linda, or getting closer with Karen (this is after they get trapped in a well together thanks ryan guzman).

And in general (stealing this from @try-set-me-on-fire's recent post about them fighting) HOW do they navigate conflict in their relationship because we really DONT see them have much conflict in their friendship, so what happens when a relatively small issue in their relationship blows up into something bigger just because they literally DONT KNOW how to argue with each other.

And I haven't even touched the Christopher of it all yet. I DO think there's juicy conflict to mine there, because as many people have said I could see there being real fear for him about what happens when/if this relationship implodes the way ALL Eddie's relationships have imploded. I think it could go one of many ways, but what's interesting for me here is Chris is NOT ten years old anymore. He's a teenager, and his emotions are way more complex than just "ANGRY AT DAD." I could see him saying he's fine with it but then acting out in other ways that make Buck and Eddie realize he's NOT actually fine with it (kind of mirroring how we saw in 7x01 Chris acting out by stringing girls along being a symptom of Not Being Fine about Shannon's abandonment). And how Buck and Eddie might have to actually WORK to even get to a place to have an honest conversation about what his fears are.

Anyway I just think there's so much new exciting storytelling ground for them once they get together this is just the tip of the iceberg

#this is all about conflict because storylines need conflict hope that helps <3 #sibyl answers #eddiegettingshot #buddie established relationship spec

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goshilovemesomemonsters · 1 year

Note

… I hear you.. AND BOY DOES THAT GIVE ME IDEAS!! 🤩

An image of how Reader heals the Pilgrim gang~

✨Wukong✨

Gentle as can be~ takes her time to slowly heal every possible (or imagined) scratch and bruise, all with a loving hand~ …. And while teasing the absolute shit outa him… 😜

🤝🏻 Sandy 🤝🏻

Her bestie? Her BFF?? The go to method for healing the big blue good-boy™️ is of course their secret best-friends handshake~ 😎

😐 Pigsy 😐

Every time this guy tries to go in for a hug.. and every time he gets slapped in the face.. healing through violence… somewhat contradictory? Perhaps, but it works~

🙏🏻 Tang 🙏🏻

… She pinches his nose in a firm grip, and start lecturing him.. “repeat after me, I will NOT listen to Pigsy and go near the obviously suspicious Bogota in the distance, especially when everyone else tells me not to!” basically a Mom moment~

🐴 Ao Lie 🐴

Gentle head pats.. after his own Father sentenced him to death, the poor kid deserves some form of genuine affection.. another Mom moment~

YOU. You get it.

And if you don’t mind me adding on to this~ because this in turn gave me more ideas lmao

Honestly Wukong doesn’t even go to you for healing to begin with. He’s the Monkey King??? Immortalx6???? He doesn’t need your healing he can just heal himself 🤨. Yes it does hurt him to have to regrow or repair himself, I imagine it’s less that he heals himself and more just…speeds up the process of the injuries healing themselves meaning he gets a fuckton of pain all at once, but given he is both immortal and impatient, he doesn’t really think much of the pain…or he tries to tell himself that anyway.

But after one of the battles where he’s forced to go to Guanyin for help he finds himself angrily sulking because he doesn’t like having to ask for help. But then you come over and just…place a friendly hand on his shoulder and heal him. He is prepared for it to hurt like how he heals himself but it doesn’t?? In fact it feels nice??? What the Fuck™. He could have been getting THIS the whole time??

Every battle after that he is first in line to get healed (listen it’s just quicker if you heal him ok don’t look too deep into it-) even going so far as to push Pigsy out of the way at points. Don’t come between the monkey and his (excuse to get your hands on him) heals. See he thought he knew what he was getting into. A quick heal and (your touch…) he’s back to full health. He was wrong because reader is wise to his schemes and makes it their personal mission to fluster the shit out of him.

“Why is this taking so long??”

“Because you keep fidgeting”

“Well you need to hurry up!!”

“I’m adding on a minute of heal time for every time you rush me.”

“What?? No just finish up already!”

“Three minutes.”

“Stop going so slow!!”

“Four! Do I hear five?? Goodness your gonna give me the wrong idea if you keep this up. It’s like you want my hands on you~”

All the while you’re slooowly dragging your hands across him and he’s doing everything in his power to not think about how good it feels, how nice it feels to have your gentle and delicate touches on him and looking anywhere other than at you. Jokes on him though he may not blush super easily but his ears are always the first to show it.

Sun Wukong was NOT prepared for this. He’s used to admiration from his subjects, fear from his enemies, respect from those he’s fought. But this??? This is new. He’s not used to this. Even back on flower fruit mountain he was never subjected to this kind of attention. He doesn’t…hate it per-say, but he doesn’t know what to do with himself. He might try to cross his arms, make himself look intimidating he doesn’t know-

“Nah-ah, uncross those arms mister I need access to your chest.”

He is suffering. Your going to kill him he’s sure of it. This is how he dies. Just by being subjected to your ministrations. Yes he knows he could leave at anytime but he’s not going to.

It doesn’t really occur to him that you’re taking your time on purpose at first because it’s not exactly like he was paying attention the first time you healed him and he accepts your explanation of it being more precise when you touch him like that readily enough. To his credit he does eventually catch on to what your doing by being purposefully slow and handsy. But like by that point he’s down bad and doubles down.

He flips the script BIIIG time when he goes from “feelings are dumb” to courting/relationship status though. If he was a menace before now he is INSUFFERABLE.

“You missed a spot”

“Oh? Where?”

“Move your hands lower”

“WUKONG.”

“I am injured! Don’t you want to see me get better? 🥺”

Or otherwise now he is intentionally doing whatever he can to increase how long it takes

“Hey you still intend to go slower if I rush you right?”

“Probably? Why do you ask-“

“WOW you are going so slow you need to hurry up and finish already because this is taking forever, we’ve been here like all day seriously how much longer is this going to take??”

“…”

“How long does that buy me?”

“…”

*Insta-Heals him*

D:<

As for the others,

Sandy/Sha Wujing is an absolute sweetheart, always patiently waiting for his turn to be healed or for you to finish. Always asks for heals with a please and thanks you every time. Secret handshake is absolutely how he gets healed. 10/10 would heal again. Best patient ever.

Tang is….fine most times. He’s real sorry for making you go through the trouble though. Really sorry. Has he told you how sorry he is? Because he is. He’s really really sorry. Swears he won’t do it again. A simple shoulder pat is all he really needs as he feels reaaaaally sorry and just feels the worst about this. No but fr he feels SO GUILTY. Healing him is part actually healing him and part feelings jam because he probs needs to be reassured that what happened wasn’t his fault.

Oof but when it’s because of Pigsy starting shit again and pulls him into danger? That’s when the pinching starts. How many times have you and Wukong told him not to listen to Pigsy?? So many times?? AND YET??? …he’s still really sorry tho

Ao Lie doesn’t really need healing all that often due to being a horse most of the time but that doesn’t mean he doesn’t occasionally sidle up to you and push his head under your hand to ask for it. Carrying the monk all that time has gotta be tiring, even if he is a dragon. Especially since he isn’t even doing it in his natural form! So that little boost of energy you give him really helps him out. Also a sweetheart 10/10 (why can’t Pigsy be like you and Sandy FR)

Pigsy tho…bless Reader’s heart you TRIED to actually properly heal him once. But unfortunately with Pigsy being Pigsy that went about as well as expected. As soon as he found out you heal through touch it was all over. “Oh my fair friend I am dying!! Only your sweet kiss can heal me. 😚” which did result in the slap heal. To his…tiny tiny bit of credit he does stop the antics after the first few times. Not because he realized that it won’t happen, but because Wukong won’t let him. Literally, he tries to be his fail-suave self during a time when Wukong is standing right behind you and one very intense glare coupled with a hand going to his ear to pull out his cudgel is all it takes to get him to stop….mostly. Still tries it when Wukong isn’t around though. Always results in a slap.

#jttw #lmk #monkey king reborn #sun wukong x reader #Sun Wukong #sha wujing #zhu bajie #ao lie #Tang XuanZang #hahaha Monkey Man is down bad get super wreckt

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neverthoughtofit · 1 year

Text

It's Always The Little Things |1|

|Pairings|: Wednesday Addams x Fem!reader

|Warnings|: none

|Note|: I'm not a native English speaker, so it would be great if you would tell me where I went wrong.

Next part

It’s always the little things you and Wednesday have been together. She has shown you the world and made you experience the feelings you have always feared. To repay the debt, you have always saved her life. She still remembers the day she got stabbed…

She can’t decide if she is enjoying the pain or mad at the shadower for subjecting her to this torture.

The picture of you wasn’t clear in her eyes. You ran and slid in front of her. Your hands held her cheeks softly, your eyes timidly looking at her bleeding temple. Your hands fidget around your pocket to find a soft handkerchief. You reach out to her bleeding stomach to apply pressure on it but was immediately blocked by hers.

“I Shouldn't have let them go” her hoarse voice still had some anger. “You've done enough, Wednesday.” You said softly, your eyes dropping to have her permission. She nodded once and you applied pressure. The cloth immediately was soaked with blood. She was bleeding fast. She winced a little and her shoulder dropped towards you.

“I need you…” Wednesday looked at you, what did you just say? “back on your feet, I can’t do this alone” You completed the sentence before she could make her point. You reached out your injured hand for her to hold. She took a look, noticing she wasn’t the only one to bear the pain. She took it but lost her balance standing up and fell on you but you held her by the waist. You took her other hand to wrap your neck and held it.

“Thank you” she said softly, under her breath. “Who are you and what have you done to Wednesday?” you sarcastically commented.

“Shut up”

You chuckled slightly and continued to bear her weight for the rest of the journey.

The whole journey she kept groaning and wincing. You couldn’t hear it anymore, it hurt you in some way you couldn’t comprehend. “It’s okay, we’ll get you some help when we get to Nevermore." “I can-” She fell unconscious and fell from you. “Wednesday!” you hurried to turn her over and check her pulse. You touched her neck it was getting cold and her pulse was low. Your heartbeat paced up when you couldn’t think of anything to help her.

You removed her shoes and started rubbing her feet. “C’mon, please.” You moved to look at her face and held it in your hands. You panted heavily as you thought of something else. You ran over to the forest beside the dirt path where you were. You collected some herbs and went to a stone to beat it into a paste. This might help Wednesday but you weren’t sure. You slid the paste into your hands and ran back to her.

The sight of someone bleeding in front of you was unusual to your daily normal life. There is so much more in life than just being a normal person and Wednesday taught you that. You sat beside her and took in a deep frantic breath. Opening a few of the bottom buttons of her shirt, you rubbed the poultice on her stab wound. You prayed for it to work.

Pulling out your cell, you called Enid. However, there was no network in the middle of the forest. The line was dead. You hoped everything was fine at Nevermore, but deep down you knew, the shadowers that hurt Wednesday would have been taken Nevermore. She shouldn’t have fought them. She shouldn’t. Why did she do that? Why?

The anxiety was kicking in again, the flashbacks of your sister dying in front of you were taking the form of Wednesday’s body. You shook your head and ignored those thoughts. Your whole body was shaking, another episode of psychosis. Frantic movements of your leg, you got up at started walking around.

“Everything’s fine y/n, everything is so fine. She is gonna be okay.”

“Don’t say that! She’s gonna be fine”

“NO! SHUT UP!” your brain was making false realities, your sister in your brain telling you that you were the reason she is dead. All because of you.

“Y/N?” Wednesday said in her monotone voice. You turned to look at her, wondering if she is the real one. “I’m gonna die…” she said, her face now bloodied fully. “because of you” her voice now changing into a low demon voice. You knelt down, face burying between your thighs, covering your ears with your hands as you cried. “Please…stop” you whined.

You felt a cold hand on your shoulder, you jumped and slid back from the grip. “Y/N? Are you okay?” it was Wednesday. She saw your tears and immediately her face softened. She went to touch your knees but you backed away and asked “Are you real?” she knelt in front of you and touched your knees, “I am” You looked around…they were gone, your sister was gone. You wiped your tears and stood up as you breathed heavily. “S-sorry, ar-are you okay?” you asked her and she asked, “How do you know how to make this?”

“My sister” she nodded and wanted to continue to question more but seeing your condition, she decided it would be better later.

Want part 2?

#wednesday #enid sinclair #wednsday addams #wednesday 2022 #wednesday netflix #netflix wednesday #wednesday x y/n #wednesday x reader #wednesday x you #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader #wednesday addams x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday addams x fem!reader #its always the little things au

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seulblade · 11 months

Note

hiiii ^_^ i really liked your jeongyeon fic btw it was literally SO good TT

anyways i was wondering if you could either do yves or hyeju hate fucking ? like they just just get so annoyed with you that they just have to fuck some sense into you .. if that makes sense

thank you sm! i really enjoyed writing it!

now…for your request 😮‍💨

(gonna make this one g!p, hope that’s okay with you…)

cw//: hate fucking, degradation, face fucking

subject//: g!p yves x f!reader

“such a fucking brat.”

all you did was complain the entire time you and yves were on your date. it was a smaller, more intimate affair. dinner and a movie should’ve been enough to satisfy you. at least that’s what yves thought originally. but you, so used to more opulent venues with your previous flings, couldn’t do anything but constantly remind yves how much better you had it with your last date.

it got to the point where you literally flagged down a waiter just to request the check. yves was fuming, but she kept herself composed, hoping that the movie would be entertaining enough to recover something from this date. but it seemed not even the film could keep you from going even further with raining on everything yves did.

“no snacks?” you asked teasingly.

“we just ate. you’ll be okay.” yves replied through gritted teeth.

at this point, you decided if you couldn’t get satisfaction from the activities, you’d tease yves into submission. from the day you met her, she seemed to be one who preferred to have control. she approached you, so you had expected…more from her. the night was still young though, so now the fun begins.

it didn’t take you long before you had begun leaning on yves, making yourself comfortable on her chest. you could feel her heartbeat pick up speed as you laid your head right on her breasts, slowly creeping your hand down to her thigh. yves mind was all over the place, wondering if you had drunken too much wine at dinner. her breathing was shallow, and her skin began to flush pink.

yves had to take control, and she had to do it fast. she quickly grabbed a palmful of your hair, yanking you away from her chest and kissing you deeply. her tongue snaked around yours, lashing away at your mouth. she moaned into your mouth, clearly enjoying the hot make out session you two were locked in. yves felt the front of her jeans begin to bulge, she was hard as a rock and she had to relieve herself.

breaking the kiss, yves dragged you down to your knees, still with a handful of your hair. she smirked at you with a devilish glint in her eye, and all you could do was lustfully stare back at her. yves wanted payback for all the shit talking, all the complaining, all the brattiness you put on display tonight. she’s make you regret saying everything you did. she’d make you throat hers.

pulling her jeans and boxers down, yves cock leaped out, smacking her stomach with a soft plap. her eyes were still locked on yours when she said “open wide.”

you had never seen a dick so thick, so meaty, so powerful. now you could see why yves carried herself the way she did. she knew she was a goddess worthy of praise. and here you are, kneeling at the altar of worship, ready to service your goddess. her cock hung right above your face, almost touching your forehead by length alone. the head was as flushed as yves cheeks, rosy red and leaking precum.

she grabbed your hair again, forcing you down on her length. you couldn’t take it all at first, slightly choking as she lowered you down.

“just relax. it won’t hurt once you relax.” she said.

once you reached the base, she pulled you up slowly, allowing you to take a breath. one was enough before she was satisfied, and she rammed her cock down your throat again. she kept a slow pace, fucking your warm mouth. she couldn’t help but moan at how good your mouth felt, like fucking silky velvet. it was much better this way than hearing you complain about the length of the movie or whatever. no, yves would rather you complain about her length.

“fucking annoying little slut, aren’t you?” she taunted. “so mouthy cause you want a cock to fill it up.”

she began picking up the pace, going harder and harder as she repaid all of your shit talk from earlier. she could feel her balls tighten, the heat in her belly just growing. they slapped against her chin, making the sounds of her throat gawking on you even more lewd. yves was finally having fun, and so were you. deep down all you wanted was for her to take control. that’s what drew you towards her, and made you accept the date. you wanted yves to be as commanding as the first time you two met, and now you’ve received your wish.

speaking of receiving, yves was ready to bust. she made it known with a slap to your face, making you spit her out as she jerked off the rest of the way. her cock twitched uncontrollably as her orgasm built to a fever pitch. she just wanted to paint your slutty, little face.

“f-f-fuck.” yves said, emptying herself all over you.

the warm cumshots flung across your face. rope after rope, the salty-sweet nature of it becoming apparent as one hit your lips. you couldn’t help but scoop a bit off your cheek and lick it right in front of her. yves was so spent her eyes could barely stay open. she slapped her rapidly softening cock on your cheeks, spreading her cum all over them. you softly kissed the tip, almost as a thank you for the satisfaction.

a/n: i wrote this in one go so it wasn’t proofread lol hope you enjoyed!

#skye.txt #skye.world #skye.imagines #yves smut #yves x f!reader #loona smut #g!p

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ace-of-gay · 2 years

Text

Extra itty bitty

Stucky x little reader

956words

Warnings: age regression, paci, bottle, nursery,

Little names like little star, baby etc. The title daddy for bucky and dada for steve as the caregivers. Little reader is in a newborn mindset, age regression can be voluntary or involuntary if you dont understand i suggest either not reading it or educating yourself on the subject

Dont like it dont read it.

You are responsible for your own media consumption especially after a warning.

No hate will be tolerated, all hate will be deleted or even blocked

No pronouns weight or skin color mentioned

Edited to the best of my ability

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Bucky and Steve encouraged your age regression knowing it’d help you in the long run.

They’ve seen you smol from six to one and occasionally younger but never as young as you are today, from Impending stress and being stuck big for a couple of weeks they knew at some point you were going to be extra smol and possibly very emotional but they were prepared for anything.

Anything in all regards so when they woke up thus morning to you buried into Bucky's side, mouth agape and paci fallen somewhere between your body and his.

Seeing you little and all cuddled up to one of your daddies stole their hearts, they both absolutely cherished it so very much.

Bucky tried to get up carefully not to nudge or shift you but the slightest feeling of movement woke you up with a gasp, before your chin started to wobble and a wail broke from you.

Eyes clenched shut, arms haphazardly flailing outward to find such comfort you had before.

It clicked quickly to both of them that you weren’t just smol, you felt tiny, equal to a newborn.

Bucky out of fear of hurting you hesitated eyes big in shock, he was prepared but he had no idea how to care for you in a newborn mindset, if you’re going to have bigger needs or if your likes and dislikes would be the same.

In the few seconds he was in shock Steve had crossed the room to Bucky’s side of the bed, softly cooing to help calm you, picking you up making sure to support your head he smiles to himself, swaying side to side to soothe you.

"Hey little star, did daddy’s startle you while getting up hmm? That’s okay, he didn't mean too"

Swaying with you, your head on his shoulder, eyes closed, on hand clutching your dadas shirt and the other clasped around three of his fingers.

"Hey button I’m gonna need my hand back?"

Bucky chuckles feeling much more aware of the situation and what he needs to do, he goes and grabs a paci and a lovie with a rattle in its head.

Bucky helped unwrap your hand from Steve’s and replace it with the lovie, touching the paci nib to your lips you instantly take it.

They both head out to the living room where seats himself and you on the couch, while Bucky finds his way to the kitchen.

You lean back a little to look at him, he grins back at you "you’re just the cutest" he announces before giving you scattered kisses across your nose and cheek, causing you to trill and coo behind you paci, dropping your lovie you pat both hands against his chest causing him to scatter kisses again followed by another trill and happy screech.

He calms you down and taps the button of your paci "give dada kiss?" you stare at him with no idea what hes saying until he taps his lips and you realize.

Basically falling forward you tap the button of your paci against his lips giving him a paci kiss.

Just a moment later Bucky walks in with a warm bottle of milk you instantly know what it is and you open your mouth dropping your paci.

Being passed from Steve to Bucky’s lap he lays you across his lap with your head layed in the crook of his elbow, giving you the bottle to feed from, your eyes close, giving your bottle all your attention until Bucky rubs your tummy and pulls the bottle away for a moment, "hey there little firecracker you should slow down before you get a tummy ache" and giving you back the bottle.

Eventually finished and having opened your eyes once more Bucky takes the bottle placing on the side table and helping you to sit facing him, pressing your body to his he pats your back to make sure there’s no extra bubbles in your tummy to upset it.

Grabbing your lovie he shakes it in front of you catching your attention, the clicking rattling mesmerizing you.

Steve walks back in wearing day clothes taking you and your lovie into his arms giving you a kiss before doing as Bucky was and shaking the lovie and than tapping its smile against you nose making a kissy sound, he does this several times over when you give your lovie a kiss back squealing in joy.

you take the lovie from him shaking it wildly before shoving it against your face causing him to laugh. Bucky returns in his own day clothes, watching you, trill and coo in delight, its now time for you to be changed.

They both make their way to your little room where you keep all your stuffies, little clothes, toys etc.

Bucky shuffles through the closet keeping in mind your favorite color and your activities of the day and choses your outfit accordingly.

Helping you out of your night clothes into day clothes freshening you up for the day.

They both sit down on the floor with you in Bucky’s lap.

Steve going through the toys, they play with you until your eyes begin to droop again, deciding its best to lay you down after you fall asleep, Steve goes to dim the lights and turn on the star projector.

Bucky swaying back and forth soothing you to sleep he sets you down in your bed in your little room, giving you a paci, tucking you in and last but not least to turn on the baby monitor.

They leave the room to go about their day as you nap, going about the routine multiple times making sure you completely happy.

They love being your daddy and dada even when something they don’t expect shows up.

《~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~♡~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~》

Im new to writing this young but its as valid as any regression age and deserves more representation

Im drawing a stuffy every day this month, as a reason/ goal to make it through the month because January is hard for me every year.

If youd like me to draw one of your stuffies let me know and id be happy to! For example heres my first three, 1 is mine, 2 is a friends and 3 is another friends

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the-girl-wh0-cries-w0lf · 1 year

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You're waiting for a train...(5)

A Lesson in Planning

Robert Fischer x reader

description - the logistics of the dream begin to come together and get finalised by the group. Y/n's heart yearns for Robert more but she feels absent from those around her.

warnings - non-con touching (because she is not awake! UNCONSCIOUS PEOPLE DON'T WANT TEA!), mentions of surgery, mentions of murder.

word count - 2.2k

a/n - Boy you guys are gonna hate Arthur here! this is an important filler chapter for the plot but the real juicy stuff is still to come!

Previous Part Series Master list Master list

If you want to be added to the taglist - here

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“So now in the first layer of the dream, I can impersonate Browning and suggest concepts to Fischer’s conscious mind. When we get a layer deeper his own projection of Browning should-should feed that back to him.” Eames orated to our group as we sat concepting the plan for the mission.

“So he gives himself the idea?” Arthur questioned.

“Precisely.” Eames continued. “That’s the only way it’ll stick. It has to seem self-generated.”

“Eames.” Arthur leant back in his chair and looked to me and I nodded in agreement. “I am impressed.”

Eames chuckled. “Your condescension, as always, is much appreciated, Arthur, thank you.” I laughed at Eames’ quip, but felt I should cover my face to not embarrass Arthur further.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

I sat in the workspace with Ariadne as she worked on her totem.

She’d decided upon a chess piece with a partly hollowed out centre that would always fall a specific way. We’d actually had the idea together when we’d been walking in the park and had come across a group of old men who’d formed a chess club. When Ariadne had picked up the queen, it had felt right in her hand.

I glanced to my watch and commented on the lateness of the time but hadn’t noticed Ariadne had actually left our desk. I must have zoned out. That had been happening a lot recently. My mind went to Robert. It wasn’t always thinking back on our interaction, most of the time it was just imagining him beside me. Living in the moment with fantasies of him living it with me.

I perked up when Dad and Ariadne walked back towards me, Ariadne gestured for me to show my Dad the mazes but I hesitated.

“Each level relates to the part of the subjects subconscious that we are trying to access.” Dad walked past our designs, assessing the skill and intricacy. Ariadne and I loomed over her paper built mazes. “So, I’m making the bottom level a hospital so Fischer will bring his father, -- um you know, actually, I have a question about this layout.” Dad immediately retreated as if the sight burned his eyes.

“No, no, no. Don’t – Don’t show me specifics. Only the dreamer should know the layout.” I winced at Dad’s harsh tone.

“Dad, she just wanted some help.” I looked up at him.

“Just – “ He pointed at me in a fierce tone but doubted his words. His tone smoothed out. “Just no specifics.”

“Why is that important?” She questioned, amid our staring contest.

“In case one of us brings our projections in. We don’t want them knowing the details of the maze.” Dad feebly explained.

“You mean in case you bring Mom in?” I spat at him. The room went quiet, the tension was thick. “You can’t keep her out, can you? Right. If you know the maze then she knows it. That’s why you can’t build anymore.” I stalked towards him amidst my lecture.

“Cobb is this getting worse?” I appreciated Ariadne’s concern. She had been whisked in to this operation only to find out the leader’s brain was more fucked up than most. Who wants to share dreams with that. “Because the others need to know if it is?”

“Who said it’s getting worse!” He abruptly ended so we knew the conversation was done. There was a lull. “I need to get her home.” He pointed at me. “That’s all I care about right now. Is her.” He stood up and embraced me. My guilt weighed me down. He’d only ever thought of me, and my thoughts were filled with someone else. How selfish could I be.

“Why can’t you go home?” Ariadne fiercely inquired.

“Because they think I killed her.” Cobb said into my hair whilst we stayed hugging. I squeezed tighter at that answer. Ariadne stayed quiet as Cobb left my arms to walk away. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For not asking whether I did.” He smiled appreciatively.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“I will split up my father’s empire.” The word emblazoned on our whiteboard. “Now, this is obviously an idea that Robert himself would choose to reject which is why we need to plant it deep in his subconscious. The subconscious is motivated by emotion, right? Not reason. We need to find a way to translate this into an emotional concept.” Dad addressed us.

“How do you translate a business strategy into an emotion?” Arthur questioned.

“That’s what were here to figure out. Now, Robert’s relationship with his father is stressed to say the least.”

“Well, can we run with that?” Eames perked up. “We could suggest breaking up his father’s company as a ‘screw you’ to the old man.”

“No.” I commented. “Positive emotion trumps negative emotion every time. We yearn for reconciliation, catharsis. His bond with his dad is broken beyond repair. Maybe if we’re gonna be in there anyway, we could do him a little good.” When I trailed off softly, I felt all eyes on me, confused. I especially felt the hot gaze of my father.

“We need Robert Fischer to have a positive emotional reaction to all this.” Dad agreed whilst eyeing me suspiciously.

“All right, let’s try this.” Eames jumped to my rescue. “My father accepts that I want to create for myself, not follow in his footsteps.”

“That might work.”

“Might?” Arthur argued. “We’re gonna need to do a little better than might.” Eames turned towards him with a cheeky smile.

“Oh, thank you for your contribution, Arthur.” He said sarcastically.

“Forgive me for wanting a little specificity, Eames.”

“Specificity?”

“Inception’s not about being specific. When we get inside his mind, we’re gonna have to work with what we find.”

Ariadne had already prepped each of the dreamers with the layout of the maze. I was truly impressed, and I spent every minute telling her that. It was so great to have a girl on the team. I often felt I was drowning in testosterone.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

We had entered Yusuf’s dream which would act as the first layer. Ariadne had created a metropolitan city with towering skyscrapers. It was perfect. Complex and confusing if you were not familiar yet still had a sense of believability.

“On the top level,” Eames narrated to us all, as we stood in the direct centre of the road. “We open up his relationship with his father, and say ‘I will not follow in my father’s footsteps.”

I walked around in awe of the world around me. I’d been in many dreams and had created a few for myself, but nothing like this. I bumped Ariadne’s shoulder and whispered.

“This is seriously amazing.”

“you’ve told me that like 5 times, y/n.”

“Oh sorry—”

“No, it’s nice.” She threw her arm around me so we ended in a half way hug. I suddenly remembered the boys were talking.

“Then the next level down, we feed him ‘I will create something for myself’. Then by the time we bring out the big guns – “

“My father doesn’t want me to be him.” I finished. After speaking those fateful words I chanced a glance at my own father’s eyes. But I looked away in shame, missing his own longing gaze.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“Three layers down the dreams are gonna collapse.” Arthur admitted. “Even with the slightest disturbance.”

“Sedation.” Yusuf proudly stated. “For sleep stable enough to create three layers of dreaming, we’ll have to combine it with an extremely powerful sedative. The compound we’ll be using to share the dream creates a very clear connection between dreamers whilst actually accelerating brain function.”

“In other words, it gives us more time on each level.” Dad explained for the ones who struggled to understand Yusuf’s chemistry.

“Brain function in the dream will be about 20 times normal. When you enter a dream within that dream, the effect is compounded, it’s 3 dreams – that’s 10 hours times –”

“I’m sorry maths was never my strong subject.” I chuckled at Eames’ confusion. “How much time is that?”

I decided to fill him in.

“It’s a week, the first level down, 6 months the second level down –”

“Its 10 years, the third level.” Ariadne said in a gasp. I nodded sadly towards her. “Who would want to be stuck in a dream for 10 years?”

“Depends on the dream.” Ariadne and I looked unamused towards Yusuf’s attempt at humour.

“So, once we’ve made the plant how do we get out? I’m hoping you have something more elegant in mind than shooting me in the head.” Arthur commented whilst swinging on his chair.

“A kick.”

“What’s a kick?”

“This Ariadne,” Eames gently tapped Arthur’s chair so he panicked and fell forward. “Is a kick.” He smiled innocently towards Arthurs unimpressed face. I giggled watching their little bromance.

“It’s that feeling of falling you get that jolts you awake.”

“Will we even feel a kick with that level of sedation?” I questioned.

“I’ve customised the sedative to leave inner function unimpaired.” I gave a grateful nod. Yusuf was truly a gift to this mission. “Let me demonstrate.”

“Arthur.” “Arthur!” Eames and I said in sync.

Arthur reluctantly rises and sits on the chair Yusuf gestures to. Yusuf puts him into a dream.

“You see the sleeper still feels the falling.” Yusuf tips Arthur and he jolts awake just in time to watch his body hit the ground. Eames and I burst out laughing. I wink at Eames as we both get the same idea.

“But Yusuf.” I begin. “He just fell sideways. I think it needs to be demonstrated that it works falling at ALL angles.” Eames and I could barely hold in our laughter as my dad shook his head in disapproval. Arthur was put under 4 more times and shoved off the chair each time. God this was too good. After the final time, he threw his hands up when Yusuf went in for one more IV. He abruptly stood up and walked past me. He slowed down when he reached my shoulder.

“Don’t be so childish.” My smile broke.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

“He hasn’t got any surgery scheduled, there’s no dental, nothing.”

“Wasn’t he supposed to have a knee operation?”

“Nothing. Nothing that they’d put him under for anyway.”

We were coming up with the final stage. And the most important element. Time.

“We need a good 10 hours.” My dad offered up the situation to the room.

“Sydney to Los Angeles.” Saito had very much taken up the role of the silent money. Quiet, observing. Merely here to protect his investment. When dad had told me he wanted to go under with us I wasn’t shocked. Inception is hardly a mission which has a physical outcome a buyer can hold. The only way to get proof is to be there with us. I did worry about safety. He was just another parasite the projections could flock to; this put us all at risk. And I had a feeling this sedation meant a simple kill shot wouldn’t suffice.

“One of the longest flights in the world. He makes it every two weeks.”

“He must be flying private then?” Dad questioned.

“Not if there were unexpected maintenance with his plane.” I smirked at this.

“It would have to be a 747.” Arthur jumped in.

“Why’s that?” I asked.

“Because on a 747, the pilot is up top,” I didn’t miss how Arthur directed the answer towards my dad. “and the first class cabin is on the nose, so no one would walkthrough but you’d have to buy out the entire cabin and the first class flight attendant.”

“I bought the airline.” We all flocked our gaze to Saito. “It seemed neater.” Ah of course! Why didn’t we think of that?

“Well then.” We had our stage. “Ariadne?” Dad stopped us as we went to leave. “Terrific work by the way.” I smiled her way but she missed it, taken up in a conversation with Arthur.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

My fingers fidgeted on the lock of the case. Itching to try again. Nothing around me was satisfying, I needed some release. The lock flicked up and I hurriedly unpacked the IV. I inserted it and let it do it’s magic. My eyes drooped, my heart slowed yet my excitement bubbled up. My head flopped onto the rough fabric of the deck chair. As my mind floated me away, a presence loomed in my peripheral.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

*Arthur’s pov*

I’d stayed behind late, hoping to have a word with y/n. She hadn’t seemed herself recently and I worried for the state of her mind when we begin this task.

I made my way to the door, believing I’d missed her. I noticed one of the deck chairs hadn’t been put away so I went to tidy up. I saw five painted nails loosen their grip on the edge of the chair and collapse to the side. There was an IV exiting the vein, I tracked it back towards the silver case.

I ambled my way towards her sleeping frame. So peaceful, yet so much life danced behind her closed eyes. I found myself stroking her soft cheeks. She was so perfect. My thumb caressed the contours of her face and it began to droop lower, until it met the curve of her lips. What was I doing?

I jumped back as if her skin had burnt me. Suddenly I was possessed by a new found drive. I ripped one of the other IV’s out of the case and dragged a chair up to the table. I inserted the tube and let the sedative consume my body.

My mind crumbled down and was rebuilt into her subconscious.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-

Oh boyyyyy Arthur has gone into her subconscious! What's he gonna find? What's she hiding??

taglist: @jonsncws @h-l-vlovesvintage @theethy @fashionki11a @felicity1994 @bearchermer @idkyoutellmesmh @mimimarvelingmarvel @butterfly-lies-chase-them-away

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aphrogeneias · 1 year

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𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐧𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐫𝐫𝐨𝐰 — 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐞𝐞

summary: it's getting harder and harder for eddie to hide his feelings for you, and an unexpected visit from his bandmates may accidentally change everything.

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

warnings: eddie's pov, some playful jealousy. "you give love a bad name" only came out late 1986 (october, i think?) but i could not resist mentioning it here.

author's note: changes were made here as well, some major editing was done.

series masterlist

“You just like them because you think they’re cute.”

This wasn't the first time he'd had this conversation with you. Beside your daily debates where you seemed to always be on opposite sides of, Eddie liked teasing you about liking mainstream artists for their looks — it wasn't because he secretly liked fantasizing about himself being the rockstar who was the object of your desires.

Not at all.

“Is that jealousy I hear?”

From where he stood, following you around the store as you went through the rows of records, carefully re-organizing the mess left behind by a full day of customers, Eddie felt his face redden, heat rising from his cheeks as you playfully mocked him. “That’s not what I meant…”

“Don’t worry,” your eyes caught his, and instead of hiding, he just melted under your gaze, “I’m sure Jon Bon Jovi isn’t gonna come sweep me off my feet any time soon."

Pretending that the image of a man — any other man but him — sweeping you off your feet didn’t phase him, because it shouldn’t phase him at all, he just mumbled a “Who says I’m worried?”, under his breath.

“Besides, you were humming to You Give Love a Bad Name just the other day when it came up on the radio, don’t think I didn’t hear you.”

“What can I say? That shit is catchy.”

Eddie’s flustered state, grumbling and fidgeting with his rings while you seemed unaware of his predicament, didn’t just come from being caught red handed, letting himself get jealous over a band you liked. He was scared, scared that you’d find out he’d caught feelings for you. Somewhere along the way, he stopped seeing you as the girl who kept him company on his lonely days, someone who he liked talking to, and started seeking comfort in your presence, longing to be near when he was away, dreading the times where he had to leave.

It was too late to tell himself not to get attached, he was already past that point.

He wondered if you knew. It wasn’t like he was such a great actor, you’d caught him staring at you more times than he could count - all the times you’d made him a question and he didn’t answer because he was too busy looking at the way the light hit your eyes, or at how delicate your hands were compared to his, and thinking about how it would feel if you were to touch him, or what it would be like to touch you under those annoyingly tight band tees you were always wearing. You had to at least suspect that he wasn’t coming all the way here just to annoy you with his incessant shenanigans.

Before he could gather his thoughts and change subjects, the bell above the door chimed, announcing the arrival of two people. It startled Eddie to watch Gareth and Jeff walking in, shoulder to shoulder, matching shit eating grins on their faces.

He felt his heart racing as he mouthed at them from where he stood beside you, “What are you doing here?”

When they got to the aisle where you were in, while you were still blissfully unaware of the company of his bandmates, Eddie tried, and failed, to act as casually as possible.

“Hey, man. Aren’t you gonna introduce us to your girlfriend? It’s about time.” He knew Gareth must have practiced this, intended on making a fool out of him, and it was working, because Eddie was speechless.

“She’s not my girlfriend, dickhead.” He deadpanned. While he was struggling to keep it together, you looked amused, looking back and forth between the friends. He composed himself enough to introduce you to his friends, finally telling them your name.

“So, this is the infamous Corroded Coffin.” You recognized, greeting them with a bright smile, making Eddie feel that surge of irrational jealousy all over again. “I heard a lot about you.”

“What a coincidence, we heard a lot about you too.”

This wasn't supposed to be happening — but Eddie should have seen it coming.

They weren't exactly lying when they said they'd heard a lot about you. The first time he had ever mentioned you to his friends was when he was late for rehearsal one afternoon, after losing track of time while he spent time with you. Since then, they’d been relentless, teasing and accusing him of hiding you from them, talking about you during Hellfire meetings, which made Dustin and Mike get on his ass about you as well, questioning him about who’s the girl that had finally gotten past his façade.

Maybe they were onto something when they said he was hiding you from them. He wasn’t doing it on purpose, but the moments he had with you were special, they were his, and he didn’t want to share it with anyone else. The days he spent with you, in your own bubble inside the record store’s walls, pretending as if the outside world didn’t exist and his only focus was you - watching you work, sharing more than just music with you, making you laugh - were his, and he didn’t want to risk losing that.

Losing you, though he never really had you in the first place.

“What have you been telling people about me, Munson?” He could tell you were having fun by the way face lit up, shouldering him as he stood by your side. “Only good things, I hope.��

“Oh, no, only the best.” Jeff commented. “Honestly, he’s head over…”

“You know what? I know why you’re here!” Eddie pushed forward, interrupting his friend before he could make everything worse than it already was. He kept his act, now standing between the two boys, passing his arms over their shoulders, “I’m late, aren’t I? I’m late again, and we have to leave!”

“C’mon, Eddie, they just got here!”

“Yeah, Eddie, we just got here.” Gareth echoed your protests with sarcasm. “What if we just wanna buy some records, huh?”

“All you want is to be a pain in my ass, that’s what you want.” He gritted through his teeth, turning to Gareth, and already pulling the boys by the collar of their shirts and away from you. “I’m sorry about these miscreants, sweetheart, we’ll be taking our leave now.”

A chorus of Sweetheart? and I thought you only called your guitar that left his friends’ mouths, which only made his face burn more as he guided them out of the store and into the street. Inside, all you did was laugh, an adorably befuddled adorned your features as you waved your goodbyes.

He would never be able to live this down.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fanfic

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bunji-enthusiast · 2 months

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Haiiii I hope you’re doing well! If it’s okay, can I request a scenario or headcannons about lancelot being with a female s/o who is also Tristan’s sister?

We'll Be Countin' Stars

there were similar request to yours, and lately seems to like this particular pairing, lmao. I don’t judge though, it’s actually really cute to think about <3

He could lie, he couldn't, Lancelot never would've expected to actually fall in love with you. But it simply just flowed, like it was right?... He wasn't completely sure, but one thing he was sure of was the fact it was authentic. Though the prince of Benwick found himself to be getting quite the earful of endless teases and conversation from a very protective mother, Queen Elizabeth. Lancelot never expected to find out how close you and your mother were until that happened.

Mutiple lessons of love he forever wished he could sink in the river, but the best lesson that had come to pass was with you. Despite the endless torment of thoughts he had, that he was doing you wrong, that he would ruin you. It all just went away, Lancelot just eventually understood he needed to give this time with you. Though if he were to be honest, he never expected his eventual partner to be you, Tristan's sister.

Lancelot knew that he was most likely never going to hear the end of it from Tristan and other friends alike, his parents too! He though he was gonna die inside every time he heard the subject rose into conversation, you had expressed the same sentiments to his relief, but it had seemed word of the whole thing was never going to go away.

However, without a shadow of a doubt, Lancelot will kill for you. Be it; to save you, on your behalf (if you can't find yourself doing it), or gather food. It is always done with no hesitation whatsoever, and in adept time.

Lancelot has extremely good photographic memory, and seemingly memorizes to some the most insignificant details of your appearances. You share similarities to that of your brother, but you seemed to look more like your father. Whether it's a mole on the cheekbone, a birthmark, he will absolutely remember it. Though he doesn't mean it in an odd sense, he just thinks they are endearing aspects added to your appearance as a whole.

The blonde remembers what you like and don't like, food-wise of course. So you are sometimes surprised with your favorite snack, and Lancelot will absolutely refute your accusations with a bullshit excuse, the blush on his face very clearly betraying what he says. Though he can never get enough of that gentle, content expression on your face when you get to eat your favorite snacks (it's one of his favorite things to see, but his ass will not admit that).

On certain nights, he takes you on a high-end rooftop to watch the night sky, and maybe converse in ways he would never be able too with anyone else. Lancelot can appreciate the deep meaning thoughts in your words, and seemingly just fires off another thought for you to think about and ramble off of. He just likes hearing your voice admittedly, and in particular what you think about the subjects discussed. Though, there are points in which you just suddenly interrupt your rambling by pointing to the night sky when there is a shape of interest.

If there are ever reasons that you may get overwhelmed, Lancelot does his best to reassure and comfort you discreetly. For example, if large crowds overwhelm you (Lancelot honestly agrees), he will lead you away and take the time to calm you down.

When both of you have time off to actually rest and recuperate, the most that will be done on your day off; is just simply cuddling each other as one and the other are to lazy too move, admiring the general scenery, or just people-watching. People-watching is somehow highly entertaining, you don't know why, but it is.

One of the main ways Lancelot expresses his love for you is acts of service, though he can be reliant on physical touch at times. But mainly when focused on acts of service; Lancelot will offer his help when you are having trouble, offer to assist you in training sessions, gift you things you mentioned you like, cares for you should you be afflicted with a major injury or illness.

He doesn't really like it, but Lancelot admittedly does get possessive of you (like father like son, come on). He rarely behaves this way, but when he does he is fully aware of it and hates it. Lancelot knows he shouldn't be so worrisome in certain circumstances, but he can't help but be possessive of you even when you can handle yourself. He tries to be better about it though.

Though you were born with both inherent traits from both parents, you inherited more of your fathers traits and abilities compared to your brother who looked more like your mother. Which had meant your demonic abilities were the more dominant genes compared to your goddess blood, and you sincerely found yourself to be at an impasse. Like Tristan, you didn't have an easy time in coming to terms with your powers. Though, Lancelot always reassured you that he could handle you if you ever lost control of yourself.

The end-game in which the admittance of your feelings for each other cultivated, was that Lancelot had admitted he was in-love with you. Which at first was an attempt, but you had admitted the same, despite the embarrassment however it had made things easier.

For the most part, you do end up cooking for the both of you (if you can cook well). Most of your cooking greatly reminds him of his parents, but he does appreciate the good-natured work and love you put into your cooking. Though off-handedly, he is the one to cook, however he does follow off a list sometimes. He CANNOT remember most recipes off the top of his head for the life of him, it annoys him.

In the beginning of your relationship, both of you realized that neither of you knew next to nothing about maintaining a good relationship. So it was a bit of a process, but during the way, you had gained good memories of laughable moments. But the experience earned had allowed him to take the lead when it came to dates, he was a bit more of a solace and peace kind of guy when it came to dates. Taking you out on the reverie, or just sitting by the lake, maybe hanging out from tree to tree as well.

One of his main favorite things about you, as cheesy as it may seem, is your smile. Lancelot always wants to find a way to elicit it from you, it's like it re-charges his energy immensely the moment he lays eyes on your smile.

However, the very thing he hates the most about you is your inability to accept help when you really needed it. Lancelot knows it's hard, for god's sakes, but why are you refusing help? It can be pretty damn hard to make it through, but he does try his best to respect your decisions wherever possible.

He dearly appreciated your support whenever it had come down to family issues with his parents, it was sometimes difficult to get along with them at times. His father most of all, so who knows where he'd be if not for your support? Lancelot had delved pretty deeply into his issues with his father, and you did hear a lot, which was surprising. But this was part of being with one another, yet you were glad he had trusted you this much to admit such things to you alone.

In return, Lancelot does his best to offer some discreet support when you have issues/disputes with either Tristan or your parents. Sometimes he is unsure of what it may be, and sometimes he knows why you had such arguments.

Between you both, Lancelot covers for physical strength and physical weakness. You cover for emotional welfare and more strategic thinking, many view you both to be a particularly headstrong couple.

#mokushiroku no yonkishi lancelot #lancelot 4koa #lancelot mokushiroku no yonkishi #lancelot 4kota #lancelot x you #lancelot x reader #lancelot #mokushiroku no yonkishi #mokushiroku no yonkishi x reader #seven deadly sins x reader #sds x reader #7ds x reader #nanastu no taizai x reader #nnt x reader

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howlsofbloodhounds · 2 months

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Man I love your headcanons SM!! Do you perhaps have any on what color and killer were thinking when they first met each other?

Now, this is gonna be a bit difficult to answer on Killer’s end simply because his views on Color will be drastically different depending on what Stage he was in when they first met.

The quote “a fell first, but b fell harder,” regardless of romantic or platonic or something in between interpretations, has always been something I seen being able to apply to Killer and Color. Color fell first, Killer fell harder.

I’ve always been under the impression that Color was always aware of Killer before Killer even knew Color existed. The man has a reputation, everyone steers clear of him. He is inherently isolated except to, as it seems, come out of nowhere and brutally terrorize or murder anyone he sees. If anyone knows anything different, they don’t speak; either from fear or loyalty.

I doubt Stage 2 would think much of anything of Color at first if they were to ever had met while Killer was in this Stage. Unless Color manages to hold his curiosity or Killer can somehow gain something from interacting with him, I doubt Killer would get involved. He’s not interested in much of anything or anyone genuinely in this Stage.

Stage 1 Killer is interested in people, he doesn’t want to be alone. But he believes he is safer alone. He needs to protect people from himself, he knows how he can be. And he’s also..deep down, terrified of others. Of getting close to people. Of being subjected to another’s will yet again. Losing himself in them, too obnoxiously uncaring in Stage 2 to do much of anything about it.

He’s allowed so much to be done to him while Stage 2. His body feels defiled from every touch, and a part of him is almost relieved that Stage 2 seems to have become more territorial of certain things—more willing to assert some red lines, even if it does often result in people being stabbed and broken bones. That Stage 2 is starting to practice some semblance of autonomy with the free will he stole.

Stage 1 will try to warn Color to stay away from him. Even as he is choking on DT and crying in pain, and Color instinctively moves to try and touch him, but Killer would immediately push him away. Color doesn’t understand how even slightly touching him can result in his death.

Color would see someone in pain, and in deep denial about being in pain, and someone believing he deserves everything that’s ever happened to him. Someone too hopeless to care about himself, someone who despite all his Determination, has given up totally and completely on himself.

Stage 1 Killer would see his future victim. It’s not an if in his mind, it’s when. And he can’t take that.

And he doesn’t like how this guy is looking at him. He’s not something to be empathizing with. He deserves this, and if Color knew the truth, he’d agree.

Fortunately, or unfortunately for Killer at this point in time, Color is filled with kindness and patience and perseverance. He’s steadfast, without being intrusive.

He keeps consistently trying to reach out, let Killer know that the hand is offered. He doesn’t command him to take it, and he doesn’t flinch when the hand is slapped away with a weak, tearful glare.

I think it’s actually very important that their relationship starts with Stage 1. Color would never get anywhere with Killer if they met in Stage 2, the apathy and dissociation is just far too strong.

Stage 2 does not connect to the past, too steadfast and firm in the belief that he doesn’t feel anything. Trying to connect with Stage 2 emotionally is going to be a major bust that’s likely to end in bloodshed.

By meeting Killer when hes in Stage 1, Color gets to build a sense of familiarity, connection, and safety with Killer. But more importantly, hope.

And it has a ripple effect across the other Stages, given how Stage 2 suddenly is more tolerant of Color’s presence and less likely to resort to violence immediately—not to say that he won’t, just that he hasn’t yet. Perhaps..a bit reluctant, for a reason he does not yet understand.

(Something like this for Stage 2. Color feels familiar in a way most things don’t anymore, and that catches his attention and fascination. And the more he picks at Color’s layers, the more he keeps finding something new, something different. I believe Stage 2 is intensely fascinated by Color. He waits for the day he gets bored of Color, and yet it never seems to come.)

With the sense of safety already established, it gives grounds for Stage 2 to..peak out from behind the curtain of his “silly, talkative, hyperactive idiot” facade in favor of another self—apathetic and shallow. And perhaps, occasionally, with the single eyelight in his right eye socket, Color can begin coaxing him out a little further from that apathetic shell.

It won’t be easy. It’s exactly like trying to tame and rehabilitate a feral animal with rabies who thinks being tame means being a slave.

All is to say, I think Color’s just really good at instinctively noticing when someone is not who they say they are or when there’s something more beneath a surface.

He’s aware of all the apathetic, manipulative, violent, remorseless, problematic aspects of Killer’s character. He knows he’s dangerous and likely to attempt to manipulate or use Color if he believes there’s something to gain from doing so.

He knows Killer is very likely going to push and push and push on his boundaries just to see what he can get away with, what Color can take before he gives. And he also knows that Stage 1 is going to keep trying to push him away, believing himself a complete and utter monster but trying to avoid what he believes is inevitable anyway. Because he doesn’t want to hurt anyone.

He knows he’s going to have a hard time trying to convince Killer to admit what he actually wants. Even harder convincing Killer that what he wants matters at all.

Despite that, he’s going to help. Because he also is starting to understand why Killer thinks this way, why he is this way. Because the more he learns, the more he grows to care for killer. All parts of Killer.

Because alongside his violent and uncaring nature, his tendencies to both need to control and then to completely withdraw in stage 2, he choices to be gentle with the cats that rely on him.

He is relentlessly resilient and determined, pushing towards a goal or purpose regardless of how many times he falters. He doesn’t let others’ opinions hinder him, and he’s a deeply loyal person regardless of how “little” or big the reason for it is. Even if the loyalty can be conditional.

Color sees it with the attentive gaze whenever he speaks, how killer hands him objects to fiddle with whenever he notices the flames becoming too sharp and real, forces himself to memorize color’s favorite trips and pictures and drinks and shows.

Listens whenever Color starts talking about his favorite shows and even attempts to engage with Color’s special interests with him. It’s extremely hard for killer to remember or pay attention for too long, even with color, yet he still tries to remember every detail he finds fascinating about color.

He gradually grows to respect color enough to listen to his opinions and thoughts seriously, and actually consider them rather than dismissing him. Killer respects him enough to at least try to put in effort and consideration.

And because it’s the right thing to do.

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bigmeandragonlady · 3 months

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since im sleep-deprived and upset about not being able to finish my drink and needed very little encouragement, here are some fun little thoughts and theories:

i can't wait for us to reveal our curse to Kuras and he says along the lines of 'yes, i already knew'

speaking of Kuras, you know how he reattached our arm? he could feasibly give us new, uncursed hands. who's are they? don't worry about that

the mentor in the alchemist background refused to teach the mc to cast magic or any sort of fighting in an effort to keep them helpless and declawed

i get the feeling that on top of familyish trama there's also medical trauma in the alchemist bg

the lines "did you ever once love me?" "how can one love a pebble in their shoe?" keeps repeating whenever i think about the alchemist bg. anyway im gonna stop talking about that bg before i get carried away

ocudeus and/or Ais want to take over Eridia

Kuras goes out every fogfall to find any survivors and Ais tends to help after

there will come a point in Vere's route where if you don't have enough romance/positive flags he'll kill you. again

Leander is a cult leader and you're going to become his new god

Mhin is either descended from or a member of the original aristocracy of Lovent OR is part of one of those teams that went on an expedition and never came back. im leaning towards the latter b/c it's more interesting to me. but it could also be both

what do u wanna bet that one of mhin's bad ends are both of us ending up chained/test subjects for the senobium

leander said that he/eridia had seen a lot of curses, i wanna know what some of them are- how mundane are they? your heel always catches in cracks, walking under ladders will cause them to fall, babies always cry whenever they see you, mirrors always crack whenever they reflect you, everything you touch turns to milk, every third dishware you handle will break, ect ect. i wanna know more about this

#touchstarved game #they are theories and thoughts of varying stupid so i didn't put 'i think' in front of every single one #one post so i dont inundate the fucking tag

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herlock-olmes · 4 months

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Vincent.

Vincent Anderson x reader

Because we all love mentally unwell Benedict Cumberbatch characters

Summary: Vincent comes to his best friend he'd known for years after another night of arguing with his wife and drinking

TW: Cheating, spoilers, harsh language, angst

“Jesus Christ, Vincent.”

She said with a groan as she saw him standing in her hallway. The windows of her apartment had a soft pattering sound as the rain water hit against them, the soft, orange glow from the street lights sneaking their way in through the thin curtains. It didn't take a genius to figure out it was late at night. Vincent however, seemed too drunk out of his mind as he stood in front of her. Even if she didn't take in the smell of his breath, he looked like crap. Water dripped from him, onto the hallway carpet beneath him, his eyes holding a hint of tiredness, not just from the lack of sleep.

“You look like shit.” She said, but still stepped aside, allowing him to enter her apartment. She sighed softly as she closed the door behind him, not pleased with the trail of water he left behind in his wake. “You and Cassie had a fight again, didn't you?” She asked, though it was said like a statement. She walked over to him as he mumbled something incoherent. He shedded himself from his coat and scarf carelessly, rolling her eyes as she took them from the floor, placing them on her rack.

“I take it, you're gonna sleep here again.”

“Where the hell else am I supposed to go?” He questioned, seemingly stating the obvious by his tone. “Lennies… maybe your parents?” She suggested. “Fuck my-” He was about to speak, or rather slurred, cutting himself off with a sigh. “You know how I feel about them.” He finally said in a much calmer tone, but the irritation was still evident in his voice.

With a slight shrug, she walked into her kitchen, turning on the light as she grabbed a glass of water. Vincent flopped himself down onto the couch like he had done so many nights prior. Her bare feet were heard against the ground as she returned to his side, handing him the glass. “Drink.” She ordered.

She sat down next to him as he took the glass from her. “I don't even know why I'm bothered at this point.” She muttered with a little bit of humor, despite her tired voice, as she let out a small sigh. “At this point I should make a room for you.” Vincent let out what she was sure was a faint chuckle as she said this. Without realizing it, a smile formed on her lips. “That would be very convenient.” He stated, placing the glass on the coffee table that sat in front of them. “Maybe I can have my couch back in the mornings.” She replied with a small giggle of her own.

“Maybe…” he replied, settling back down. She gave him a small frown, her smile fading quickly. She could sense that something had happened earlier that night. Vincent did drink very often, however she could tell something else was on his mind. “Do you…” She started, not sure how to approach this subject “...maybe, want to talk about it?” She suggested softly. Her hand come up to his shoulder, squeezing gently as a way of comfort. She felt him tense under her touch, but not pulling away. He let out a breath after a long moment, speaking in his gruff, and strained voice.

“It's Cassie and work. Nothing for you to be concerned about.”

It was clear he was trying to brush it off. Not wanting to push the matter, knowing how he can be when discussing these sort of subjects, especially when he was drunk. Still wanting to add some sort of reassurance, she spoke once more. “Well, you two have been married for a long time. Not every relationship is perfect.”

Her tone had a touch of sadness in it. Throughout the years she had been friends with Vincent, she had formed a sort of crush on him. Feeling like she knew him better than anyone, and being considered close friends by many. She would be lying if she said she was happy seeing his family split. She never had anything against Cassandra, and was even friendly with one another. Any young person would probably jump at the opportunity to be with the one they developed feelings for if they had the chance.

But after seeing everything he went through, his parents, the medication they made him take, the frustrations of the addictions and even his home problems. She only wanted to see him happy, to see the genuine smile on his lips, that wasn't just from a moment of satisfaction, or making his point known after being a jerk. Without realizing it, her hand snuck over to his, squeezing him gently as she sat there in thought.

She only snapped out of it when she felt him return the gesture. She turned to face him slightly, giving him a small smile as they sat there in the dimly lit apartment, with the rain andcar horn going off in the distance. Basking in the peacefulness of the moment, a break from their demanding and grueling life. Even if they both knew they would have to face it again when the sun rised in a few hours.

They held each others hands for a long while, him feeling her hands, which he found delicate and soft in contrast to his own rough hands that held small cuts. His nails were a little sharper than usual. He had to cut those, he considered. “Your a good person Vincent.” She whispered softly to him, not finding a reason to speak at a normal volume as they sat right next to each other, their faces were inches apart as she continued “your just a fucking asshole most of the time.”

He let our a small cackle at this, the smell of his alcohol which still lingered in his breath didn't smell as bad as it did before. She finally took a moment to appreciate those eyes of his, she had admired them for the longest time. How they appeared blue in certain times, green in others and gray every so often depending on the lighting. She always loved that detail, they were by far the most beautiful eyes she had seen.

She didn't know if it was the drowsiness or the atmosphere itself, but did he appear more handsome than he already was? His glasses were ever so slightly smudged or have the occasional partical. But despite this he seemed to only be focused on her. Just like she was on him. Her eyes trailed his beard, appreciating the look of it. Matching the curls which adorned his head, she wanted to reach up and feel the bristles beneath her fingertips if her hand wasn't within his own, his high cheekbones contributing to his attractiveness to her. He squeezed her hand yet again, soft. She let out a small hum of satisfaction as she leaned her head closer even if it was subconsciously.

They sat like that for a few moments longer, enjoying the quiet company of one another. She could have sworn she saw him lean in closer to her face.

Before any of them realized it, they leaned in until their lips made contact. She closed her eyes as did he. A small groan could be heard escaping the back of his thoart as he felt her soft lips against his own. She could feel the hair on his beard softly scratch on her skin as she kissed him back. One of her hands leave his, cupping his cheek gently, as she rubbed along his cheekbone in admiration. She could taste the vodka on his lips, but she didn't care. In fact if anything she may have craved a little bit more of it at this moment. Letting go off hers, his hand came around her lower back, resting there as he hesitantly pressed her closer. She sighed against his lips, letting him know she was fine with it.

Vincent groaned against her lips as he started to kiss with more passion. It was probably the druken state he was in, but she tasted amazing against his lips. He felt an intense hunger as her press his tongue against her lips silently asking for permission, which she granted. He immediately started to explore her mouth, like some starving man. In a way he was, he was starved for too long, wanting affection, needing it.

She moaned against his mouth, feeling him invade her mouth, which she allowed. How could she not? She slowly took her hands off his face, instead opting to wrap them around his neck. Pulling him closer against her. “Oh Vincent…” she said softly against his lips.

Suddenly he froze. The way she said his name, reminded him of Cassie, his wife. Then he remembered Edger. Oh god what was he doing here? Slowly he pulled away, she let out a soft “huh?” as he did this, immediately standing up and wiping his lips, leaving her confused as he started to make his way to the door “This was a mistake.” He said to himself as he put on his coat and scarf. “What- did I do something wrong?” She asked as she walked to him. “This, is wrong Y/n.” He simply stated as he continued. “I'm married and I don't plan on cheating on her.” He muttered. “Vincent, it was just in teh heat of the moment I-” he cut olher off again, putting on his scarf quickly “Your right. It was in the heat of the moment.” He turned around as he began putting on his shoes.

“You can still spend the night.” She offered kindly, seeing where he was coming from but not wanting him to leave on the dark, dangerous streets of New York. Especially when it was raining. He still shook his head, not even wanting to listen to her suggestions. “I'm just going to go home to my wife and son.” He said once more. Finally, he walked towards the entrance door. Unlocking it with ease before slidding out of it. “Vincent wait!” She tried to call out for him, but the door quickly closed behind him.

Leaving her standing in her dimly lit apartment, the soft pattering could be heard as she stood there looking at the door with disbelief and hurt. Hurt that he would just leave like that. Hurt as she always remembered she will be nothing more than just a friend to him. As much as she would love to take that role, she couldn't. As she stood there, the silence in the room sounded much more louder than it was, and the emptiness lingered around, but it was different compared to earlier.

She let out a shaky breath before turning around to go back to her bedroom.

#eric #benedict cumberbatch #benedict cumberbatch x reader #vincent anderson x reader #vincent anderson #benedict cumberbatch imagine #netflix eric #eric netflix #hmu if you wanna be tagged

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