#i mean. maybe she should've. he'd have let her.

[meyerlansky]

rolling up to a greek family's house with a leg of lamb in the middle of wartime rationing is basically a marriage proposal

leckie's lucky stella's mom didn't lock him in the basement until the war was over to keep him from getting away, AWOL regs or no

[zorosprincess]

I Fucking Hate You

PAIRING - Tsukishima Kei x Reader WC - 4.5K GENRE - smut CW - mentions of drinking, short(er) reader, manhandling, some degradation... i mean c'mon... it's tsukki, fingering, mentions of spit, unprotected sex, creampie

MASTERLIST | NEXT PART

If you would have known that letting your best friend Aiko convince you to come to the university volleyball team's 'end of trimester' party would end with you here, like this... you would not have come. You would have said to hell with her begging and her crocodile tears, the pout on her lips that was replaced with a huge smile the second you gave in and said yes.

"You're worse than that Oikawa boy." You had said the words just to watch her face twist up in disgust as she gagged, "never compare me to him again." "You know he likes you, right?" you'd joked, hoping to get her irritated enough with you that she'd rescind the invite. It hadn't worked, her hand waving in dismissal, "you're not making me uninvite you."

So yeah. If you'd known that this is where it would have gotten you, you would have said no. If you'd have known that your best friend's ex boyfriend would have been at the party (a fact you were sure Aiko purposely forgot to mention it to you for this reason) you would not have come.

And if you would have known that you and the aforementioned male would be forced to actually interact thanks to your bitch of a best friend, you would have pushed her down the stairs the second you got here and ran for the hills. Because here you were. Alone. With one of the people that you hated the most. The one person you argued with the most.

Honestly, knowing who was throwing the party, you could really only blame yourself. He was on the team. You should've expected him to be here. Really you just didn't think he'd be the type to come to a party. The type to let himself be convinced to come. It was stupid, really. You realized so the second you pulled up to Tadashi's house with Aiko.

The same way you would always show up for Aiko, Tsukishima Kei would always show up for Tadashi.

You had determined that the best way to avoid Tsukishima was to drink with Aiko. To glue yourself to her side because you knew he didn't want to come around both a girl he hated and his ex-girlfriend. As long as you didn't let yourself get pulled away by a teammate then you should have been fine.

Should have been.

What you did not account for, however, was being shoved down the hallway after him by said traitor best friend as he was sent to go find extra towels because a couple of the boys wanted to jump into the pool.

It had taken you all of five minutes to give up on finding the towels and to sit yourself on the bed, eyes trailing after the stupid bean pole as he kept digging through cabinets of the room you'd been pointed to.

"Would you care to repeat that?" he sneered out the words and it occurred to you that maybe you hadn't called him that insult only in your head.

"Nope." you popped the p on the word and rolled your eyes. You were suddenly aware of how stupid the drinks with Aiko had been. It wasn't that you were drunk, but you were compromised enough to have no filter between your mouth and your brain. No impulse control. "No one wants to talk to you anyways," you giggled as you let the name Hinata taught you slip from your lips, "Suckyshima."

You were trying so hard not to laugh at the glare he gave you then. He let out an annoyed huff of air as his tongue poked at his lower lip in irritation. He was towering over you at that point - When did he move in front of you? Why did he have to be so tall that it hurt for your neck to crook back and look at him? - he was looking down at you with his signature condescending smirk.

"Listen, shrimp," his smirk widened as you glared up at him, "I'm sorry the simple task of looking for towels is too hard for that dumb little brain of yours to understand," he emphasized his words with a flick to your forehead and you nearly growled as you swatted his hand away, "but don't take it out on me." He laughed and stepped away from you.

You clenched our teeth as you stood up then, not that it helped much, he still towered over you as you straightened to your full height. You tried your hardest to keep your tone unbothered as you struck out, trying to hit a nerve, "ya know, lamppost-" you couldn't help your smile, almost seeing the tilt of his head and eye roll at the sound of the nickname you'd never once let up on since the first time you'd met- "if you weren't such an ass maybe someone would actually enjoy talking to you."

He scoffed, continuing to look around the room for the third time. "Like you? I'd rather be deaf and mute for the rest of my life."

You made an amused sound in the back of your throat. "At least I'd never have to listen to your stupid voice again." It was a childish jab, you knew it and he knew it, but you couldn't help yourself. The need to piss him off, to annoy him, it was just too overwhelming. You had to do it. "I mean doing the world a favor really. Maybe knock that smug look off your face, sitting there, thinking you're better than everyone."

"Like you're any better?" He turned to look at you, eyebrows raised and lips twitching, mocking as he re-closed the distance he'd just put between the two of you. Why did he have to be so stupidly tall? "Walking around, acting like a bitch, like the world owes you everything." He glared down at you and you looked right back up at him in defiance. "Think you'd know better since you haven't been able to attract a boy since high school - yeah Maki's told me all about it. Walking around like you're the shit just because you're a pent up bitch."

You could feel your face heat up in anger. Embarrassment coursing into your system as you silently cursed Aiko for sharing that information with the enemy. It wasn't like you had actively looked for someone and had been turned down, so it wasn't like it was something to be ashamed of. But knowing that Tsukishima knew about it suddenly made all rational thought leave your brain.

"You don't know shit." You shoved at his chest and he took a half step back at the force. He let out a soft scoff, almost like he was impressed you even had the gall to lay your hands on him. "Like you've landed a girl since you were with Aiko in high school?" You shoved again and watched as his tongue poked at the bottom of his cheek, a telltale sign that he was holding back his words, his insults. "You're nothing but an ignorant," shove, "arrogant," shove, "asshole," one last shove. "I hate you." You rolled your eyes and pushed past him. "Not worth my time."

"I'm real fucking sick of your mouth." Tsukishima's voice cut through the air and you barely registered the feeling of a hand on your arm before your back slammed against the wall. It took you a moment to register his frame caging you in but he was already speaking. "Watch your attitude." The words were formed more into a growl as he pushed them through his teeth, one of his hands keeping you pinned to the wall by your upper arm.

You let out an embarrassingly high-pitched squeak at the motion and almost felt the need to submit overcome you before you snapped yourself out of it. Your mind was begging your body to ignore the proximity between the two of you. Begging your body to ignore how hot annoying it was that he was towering over a foot taller than you, caging you against the wall.

You felt the heat travel past your face and start on your neck. Your head spun trying to figure out if it was still just anger or if there was a blush starting on the skin too. You hated the thought. You pushed at his chest again and tried to yank your arm away. "Fuck off!" You seethed at him and a final tug of your arm almost set you free only for him to catch you again and pull you back.

"I wasn't fucking done talking." You struggled against him but he didn't let up, your body twisting in his grip. You groaned as you were once again pinned between him and the wall. But this time, your hands rested against the flat surface, just barely keeping your chest from being fully pressed against it.

"I don't fucking care what you have to say." You struggled to move and only grew more irritated when you couldn't quite get away before you were pinned back to the wall, again. "I'm fucking leaving, you asshole." You took a chance and tried to press your whole body weight back against him to throw him off and create a larger gap between him and the wall but it backfired quickly.

His quick reaction made you realize your mistake. He'd read your movements and his whole body quickly pinned yours to the wall, making it near impossible for more to move. You were reminded again of how bad you had messed up by drinking alcohol. The stupid alcohol that removed the filter between your mouth and your brain, between your body and your brain, as a desperate moan involuntarily clawed its way out of your throat. You froze and your eyes widened as you realized what you had just done, body tensing up immediately.

"Oh?" You could almost see the smirk etching its way onto his lips. A light chuckle vibrated out of his chest against your back as he refused to move. "I get it now." He leaned down, lips leveling with your face, breath tickling the top of your burning ear as he taunted. "You're just a desperate little slut."

"I fucking hate you." You growled at him, jerking your body away from the wall, trying to get away from the embarrassing situation you'd put yourself in. "I'm fucking leaving." You barely got two inches away from him when his muscles tightened and slammed you right back against the wall.

This time, however, he pulled you up on your toes and purposefully ground his hips into your ass. "You're a bitch." You let out a pathetic whimper against your will, the heat crawling its way across your skin as you could feel him harden against you.

The feeling of your core heating up was one you would have welcomed in any situation but this. Any situation where it wasn't Tsukishima Kei pressed against you from behind, you would have already given in. But it was him and you hated him. Your voice was weaker this time, "Get the fuck off me." You pushed again, struggling to escape his grasp.

His weight lifted off your figure and you thought you were home free. You wiggled against him, trying to escape the predicament you had gotten yourself into. Of course if you were thinking a little clearer, if the scent of his cologne wasn't fogging up your senses and the heat of his body wasn't suffocating you, you would have realized that you were only making it worse. He stifled a groan as you brushed against his hips a little too hard and suddenly it felt like you were more trapped.

He slotted his thigh between yours, using it to separate your legs and keep them in place as he leaned down, pressing his cheek to yours. Even the slightest movement from either of you created a delicious friction that had your breath hitching and your panties dampening. "Someone should put you in your fucking place." The way he growled sent shivers down your spine, the heat of his breath bouncing off the wall and fanning both of your faces.

You reached behind you to try and push his thigh down and away, the heat in your body becoming unbearable. "I fucking ha-"

You were cut off by one of his hands snatching both your wrists and pinning them to your lower back. He forced you to arch against the wall, the motion causing your dress to hike up and you to lose your balance on your toes. He pressed his thigh up, angling it just right so that when you slipped off your toes, you unintentionally ground yourself against his thigh. You let out a strangled moan and internally cursed your body for giving in so easily like this. "Don't know where you think you're fucking going now."

You took a deep breath and bit your lip, trying to stop another moan from escaping as he began to move his thigh, the friction sending electricity through your core. There was no way you would let yourself fall apart in front of fucking Tsukishima. No fucking way. You ignored the pleasure flooding your body as you struggled to get your wrists released and get away from him.

"I'm fucking leaving." Why did he have to be so fucking strong. "I swear to god Tsukishima-" a quiet whine interrupted your threat as a particular struggle of yours lined up perfectly with the movement of his thigh and the fabric of your underwear caught against your clit just right. "Let me go." It was supposed to come out as a hard demand but with the way your breathing couldn't steady, it came out more as a pathetic plea.

The cold of his fingers met the heat of your upper thigh and you gasped out as you felt them quickly trail up to pull your underwear aside. "Why don't you tell me to stop then." His condescending tone sent shocks straight through the center of your body in all the ways you hated but his movements slowed as he gathered the slick that had pooled in your underwear, like he was waiting for you to actually say it.

You couldn't. Couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Couldn't stop the disgustingly needy whimper that clawed its way out of our throat. "I fucking hate you." You protested but your body worked against you, pushing into his hand a little more.

A breathy chuckle left his lips, "Yeah, and that's why you're so fucking wet, right?" he mocked and sunk two fingers into you without warning. Your mouth dropped open and your body lifted onto your toes as your hands clenched at the sudden feeling. "That's why your stupid little cunt is squeezing my fingers like this?"

"Fu-fuck." Your breath stuttered and you didn't notice when his hand released your wrists, your hands finding purchase on the wall, holding yourself up as he slowly curled his long fingers towards the perfect spot inside of you. A whimper left your lips as he pressed hard into you with his fingers.

"Go on then," he started with an amused huff, "thought you were going to leave." Reality crashed on you again and you snapped your jaw shut. You squeezed your eyes and begged yourself to pull yourself away from him now that you had the chance. But the way that his fingers kept rubbing so perfectly against your g-spot kept your mouth from forming the words, kept your body from leaving the dizzying sensation.

"You're dripping down my hand, you know." He taunted, twisting his wrist slightly and hitting a new angle. He pressed deeper and a cry left your body as you felt his thumb brush your clit. "Here I am, knuckles deep in you," your eyes began to roll back as the pressure in your gut started to build-god why were his fingers so long? why did they move so well? "bet you wanna cum on my fingers now, like a little slut." He laughed again as you let out a broken moan, nails starting to claw at the wall. "Go on and tell me you hate me now."

You bit back another moan and clenched your teeth. You reminded yourself that there was no fucking way you were letting fucking Tsukishima break you like this. "I fucking hate you." You gritted out and pushed off the wall, going to separate yourself from him.

He was quick to catch you by your waist with his free arm, pinning you against himself, this time with no help from the wall. He removed his fingers from your warmth and brought his newly freed hand to your hips. He pushed your dress up further and before you could register what was happening he had turned the both of you and was throwing you down onto the bed.

You were pinned facedown on the bed before you could think. "You need a fucking attitude adjustment." He growled in your ear as he hovered over you, his hands still on your hips, trapping them in place under him.

"Fuck off." Once again, it didn't come out as harsh as you meant it to, your out of breath tone ruining the purpose.

He only laughed at you and both of his hands left your hips, seeking out and finding your wrists quickly. He pinned them against your lower back, once again, holding them in one hand with a bruising grip. He used his other to pull your hips up, listing the rest of your body onto the bed easily and pushing you forward, forcing your knees under your hips and your back into a deep arch. Easily, like you were a fucking ragdoll. The thought pissed you off but sent a new wave of heat rushing for your core.

You hated it. You hated him.

You could barely hear the rustling of fabric, and you definitely didn't recognize its meaning, over the blood rushing in your ears, the position you were in making you feel vulnerable to the one person you would swear up and down the coast that you hated the most.

You realized almost too late that his hand had left your hips and instead it was his knees and thighs holding you in your position. "You don't need these, right?" It was a mocking question that he didn't let you answer, that you didn't even register before the sound of fabric being ripped and your now ruined panties were removed from your frame.

"You ass-" the sound caught in your throat and turned into a squeak as you felt the head of his cock brush against your clit. You couldn't see it, couldn't even shift your hips back to try and gauge how big it was. But the feeling of it spreading your lower lips slightly made you want it inside of you.

"Why don't you keep quiet and let this slutty little pussy have what it wants." It wasn't a question. His fingers dipped back into you barely, just barely past the pads of his fingers and you let a needy whimper slip out at the teasing. He chuckled again, pressing the head of his cock right against your clit, sending a jolt through your body again. You couldn't move and you hated it. Wouldn't even if you could and you hated that too. "C'mon shrimp," he taunted, leaning down and lowering his voice, "tell me how much you want me to stop."

"Shut. Up." You panted it out, your cheek pressed against the mattress. It wasn't a stop. You knew that. He knew that. You could almost picture that stupid smirk on his face as he leaned back up. Picture him shaking his head in amusement, running his hand through that stupidly pretty blonde hair of his.

"Have it your way." The feeling of something cold and wet dripping down onto your hole with perfect accuracy brought a loud gasp out of you. But before you could register how lewd it was that he'd not spit on your pussy but let it drip onto it, he pushed the self-made lube in with the tip of his cock. "Fuck." He breathed out as you let out a pathetic squeak. He was thick. So deliciously thick. "Fuck you're tight."

He released your wrists and your hands instantly flew to fist the comforter by your head as he pushed the full head of his cock in. "Think you can take it?" His voice was breathy but the condescending, challenging tone in his voice was still there. You were nodding before you understood what you were doing. He laughed a you and you heard spit leaving his mouth again before you were distracted by both his hands on your hips. "Good." He bottomed out in a single thrust and your vision went white.

A choked moan escaped from you as you were suddenly engulfed by the feeling of being split open. He was seated deeper than you had ever taken anything and the pain that jolted through your core had never felt so delicious. And nothing had ever sounded as good as the moan that left his lips as his fingers on your hips tightened, no doubt leaving small bruises in their wake. You opened your mouth to say something but all that left was another cry as he moved his hips, starting at a brutally fast and hard pace.

You couldn't call the sounds that left your mouth moans, couldn't even call them whimpers. They were shrill cries of half-formed curses and pleas, desperate whines as he pounded into you. Your hips were bruising as you tried to hold on to the comforter to ground you to reality. The pain and pleasure of the pace and force that he was rutting into you was making your mind go hazy.

He wrapped one of his hands into your hair and yanked, keeping your back arched but pulling your chest off the bed. Your arms scrambled to find their way under you, begging to hold up your body but failing as his hips refused to slow their pace. The new angle that his hips slammed into you at had your mouth left open, eyes finding a home at the back of your skull while pathetic, shrill moans left your body unfiltered. "Please, please, please." You begged without shame, heat burning all of your nerve ends.

"Please what?" he growled out, "what do you want slut?" You whimpered at the derogatory term. "Oh? Feel that?' he taunted, slowing down slightly to let both of you enjoy the way his cock stretched and rubbed against your inner walls, "the way your cunt just tightened when I called you a slut?" You cried out and tried to nod but couldn't due to the hold he had on your hair. "So tell me what you want, slut."

"Ple-" a cry left your mouth, "please wanna-" another broken moan escaped, "wan' cum." You slurred the words out as he tightened his grip on your hip and your hair.

"You wanna cum on my cock?" You tried to nod desperately, a flurry of slurred "yes"s leaving your mouth. He laughed and halted all his movements. A frustrated groan ripped its way out of your throat as the heat dissipated ever-so-lightly. "Look at your cute little cunt drooling all over my cock." He laughed as you whined, trying to push your hips towards him to get him to move again. His grip steeled, making it impossible for you to move. "Ask me then." You widened your eyes at his words. "And don't you dare fucking cum without permission." He growled in finality.

"Wha-what?" He gave a harsh tug on your hair and your eyes fluttered. Fuck it. "Please." You whimpered lightly. He moved his hips lightly, drawing out and pushing back in ever so slightly. Not enough. "Please can I-" he cut you off by resuming his previously brutal pace as the heat returned in full force to your belly, tightening pressure building quickly.

You remembered his threat and struggled to get your tongue to form the question. "Can I-" a scream ripped through your body at a particularly hard thrust, "can I please." The last word was drawn out with a long whine, trying to catch your breath. "Please," you tried to catch your breath as moans fell effortlessly from your mouth, "wan' cum, wan' cum, cum ple-ah!" your mindlessly babbled pleas interrupted by your cry.

"Can I- can I- please." He mocked you, shifting his pitch up before laughing. "God so stupid you can't even ask a question?" His voice was strained but collected as he pounded into you impossibly harder, cries falling from your mouth, eyes rolling back again, tongue flipping past your bottom lip. "Fucking cum then. Cum on my cock like a good little slut." Like a command.

"Fuck!" You cried as you felt every one of your muscles tighten around him, his movements refusing to let up on your body as you started to shake. He released your hair and your upper body crashed down to the sheets as he resumed a two-handed grip on your hips, recklessly starting to lose his rhythm as he pulled your body to meet his every thrust, fucking you through your orgasm. "Fuck, fuck, fuck, Kei!" His given name fell from your lips in a shriek and almost immediately you received a response.

"Fu-ck." The word left his lips in a broken moan. A higher pitched leaving right after you felt his length twitch inside of you, spilling his load deep into your core. He paused for barely a second before pushing you flat onto the bed, disconnecting your bodies easily.

So that was that. You thought, preparing to catch your breath and lay there in your shame. That plan, however, was interrupted as Tsukishima gripped your legs by your knees, easily flipping you onto your back and drawing you towards the end of the bed. You leaned up on your elbows, looking and watching, speechless as he rid himself of the pants that had been half on this whole time. Your breath hitched as he tore his shirt off next.

As much as you hated to admit it, he was a fucking sight to see.

Sculpted abs flexing with every movement. Sweat dripping down his perfect, lean muscles. Blonde hair damp and mussed without care. And his still hard cock. Fuck. It was fucking gorgeous and glistening with a mix of both his and your cum.

You swallowed hard and met his eyes as he smirked down at you. That stupid fucking condescending smirk that made your skin burn with hatred, and now lust.

"Did you think I was fucking done?" He was inexplicably intimidating from this angle-towering over you. He laughed at your wide-eyed expression and reached to tear off your dress. "What's wrong, slut? No smart remarks this time?"

You groaned and lost your balance on your arms as he quickly pushed two fingers back into you, watching with sick satisfaction as his cum gushed around them.

You moaned despite yourself. "I fucking hate you."

a/n - i need to be shot down please. tsukishima brain rot is back

TAGLIST - CLOSED @tetsuskei

[alloftheimaginesblog]

holding on {alex karev}

plot: you and alex aren't friends but he's the person that sits by your hospital bed day and night until you wake up.

character: alex karev (early seasons) x reader

The steady beeping of the various machines was something that Alex had grown tired of two days ago, the machine's volumes had been turned to 0 but his anxious eyes kept flickering to them every few seconds just to be sure. The background noise of the hospital was something he was used to and it was an oddly comforting sound. Now, the silence of being in the room with you had been nice at first but now that he was here, with you, waiting... just waiting... the silence was unnerving him.

He tapped his foot, checking the clock on the wall. Bailey should've been here by now, she promised him that she'd check on you every two hours. She was late. Anger surged through his body causing his heart to pound and his fists to clench.

"You're such an idiot," he could hear you scolding him in his mind, "if you just stopped dealing with your problems with sheer anger then maybe, maybe people would actually start to like you."

He scoffed.

You and him had hardly been friends. You and the rest of Bailey's interns were the best of friends, all living together in Mer's mom's house so why wasn't George or Izzie or Cristina or Mer here? Why was it Alex? That's all the four of them had been whispering about. Cristina asked Alex, Izzie asked Alex... hell, Bailey even asked Alex. Alex had ignored each of their questions and instead gave some snarky asshole comment with an eye roll. Alex didn't even know why he was here - why he'd purposefully demanded the week off to be by your bedside day and night sleeping on a camping bed with the scratchiest sheets in the world. He didn't know and yet, here he was.

You were annoying. You annoyed him. But since the news of the accident and since you'd been in a coma, Alex couldn't stop thinking about the way you laughed as you teased him. He couldn't get one specific moment out of his head.

You and Alex had been working on a case together - much to your dismay - and Alex had opened up slightly, letting you see that he was much more than what you previously thought.

"So... you're not just an asshole with the emotional range of a teaspoon, who knew?" You helped yourself to the bar stool next to Karev. Joe glanced at you, asking if you wanted your usual to which you nodded.

Alex rolled his eyes, "Whatever."

There was silence for a few seconds before you tried again, "I know you have this hard 'I don't care' exterior," you started, "and I know it's probably because of some past trauma in your life, Karev - believe me we've all got some shit - but..."

"Are you gonna keep giving me a stupid high school girl pep talk or are you gonna shut up and drink?"

It was your turn to roll your eyes now, "Joe, another round please."

As Joe poured the two of you more drinks, Alex sighed and looked at you, "Thanks," he murmured quietly, "I'm not- I don't..." he cleared his throat, "I don't mean to be an asshole all the time... I don't really know... Social shit isn't really my thing."

"Now who's acting like an emotional high school girl?" You teased. Alex laughed, a genuine smile stretched onto his face. Yeah... maybe he wasn't so bad after all.

So after the accident, Alex stayed.

It was then Bailey strode in, chart in hand, "Karev," she said glancing up for a second, "you look like hell. Don't you think you should go home get a proper sleep? Take a damn shower?" She could see the worry in him, she could see how stressed out he was; the dark circles under his eyes, his nails chewed down. Alex might not even know it yet but he cared about you.

"I'm staying," he said with a nod standing to look over her shoulder at your chart, "Any updates?"

"You tell me, you're the one who's been here since she got admitted." Bailey moved to you, turning the volume up on the machines, checking your levels.

"Oxygen levels were a little low at 3am, managed to level them out... No issues since." He nodded, arms crossed with a hand rubbing at his jawline, "Why hasn't she woken up yet, Bailey? She should be-"

"Karev," Bailey said, voice strong, "Go get yourself a cup of coffee, now."

"I don't-"

"Now, Karev. Let me do my damn job and stop hanging over me. Coffee."

With a few harsh words which made Bailey surprisingly laugh, Alex stormed out of your hospital room, storming past O'Malley and Stevens who had come to check in with Bailey on how you were doing.

Bailey leaned down closed to you, "If you die, god help us all... that boy..." she looked to the door where Alex had left from, "he'll be lost forever. So don't you dare, you hear me?"

The coffee machine was a minute's walk away from your room so Alex would know if anything were to happen to you, he would know but he kept checking over his shoulder anyway just in case. He was exhausted, he couldn't remember the last time he'd drank or even the last time he'd eaten. You had consumed him for the last two days; making sure that you were okay was his first priority.

He stopped at the coffee machine punching the button for a crappy black coffee that he wasn't going to drink anyway, "Come on," he grumbled as the cup dropped and the coffee began to pour in slowly, "Damn piece of crap machine, hurry the hell up!" He yelled suddenly, slamming his fist into the plastic front. Around him, people stared but he didn't care. When the coffee finally stopped, he pulled the cup out when he heard it.

"Code blue! I need a crash cart! Room 2203!" It was Bailey. It was you.

Boiling hot coffee splashed over the floor, the cup dropped and on the ground as Alex Karev took off running.

His heart pounded, usually the thrill was the thing he loved the most but this wasn't a thrill, no, this was dread. When he burst into your room, the first thing he heard was, "Clear!" and heard the noise of the defibrillator.

"What's going on?!" He yelled over the chaos.

"Get him outta here!" Bailey yelled, "Charge to 200! Get him outta here, O'Malley!"

George tried but a determined Alex was a strong Alex. He resisted George's grip, shoving him back every chance he tried to take him out. It got to the point that George gave up, "Dr Bailey!" He exclaimed, hopelessly as Alex barged to your bedside. Bailey couldn't do anything, she was busy trying to save your life, she couldn't deal with Karev as well so she let him be.

"Don't you dare die on me," Alex hissed, eyes flooding with tears, "don't you dare. Can't do that to me, (y/n). Can't have me sitting here waiting for two days to just die on me-" he looked to Bailey, "Save her... please."

Bailey's eyes met Alex's and she found a lump in her throat, "You hear him?" She asked you as the paddles charged, "don't you dare die on us, (y/n)." With one final shock, the monitor started to beep again, "Heart rate is coming back up," she said with a relieved sigh, "Thank the Lord. Levels are stabilising."

Alex collapsed into the chair at your bedside, hand clamped around yours, as his eyes closed, letting the relief wash over him. You were alive; you were stable.

"What- what caused it?"

Bailey shook her head, "Don't know, levels were fine but as soon as you left the room they started to drop so do me a favour, Karev," she looked pointedly at him, "don't leave this room again." Normally he would've bit back, said a comment about her forcing him out but instead, he just nodded falling back into his chair, hand still in yours, "I'll check every hour, okay? You page me immediately, got it?" Again, he nodded and then the room cleared out.

Alex didn't turn the monitors down, he needed to hear the steady beep to know that you were okay, you were alive and you were breathing. For the last three hours that he'd sat here, he had prayed to every god he could remember the name of - he didn't know if it counted but even started praying to some Greek Gods as well. Why have God in the title if it doesn't count? His hand was still firmly in yours.

Bailey had checked five times in the three hours, checking on you but also on him. She brought him a soda, a sandwich and a muffin and didn't leave until he'd drained half the can and eaten one of the sandwiches. He hadn't realised how hungry he was until he'd started eating, he devoured the rest of meal once she'd left. You were still stable but you weren't awake yet. Bailey was optimistic but Alex wasn't. He was dreading the worst, expecting your levels to become unstable again but as he was dosing off, he felt your hand twitch in his.

He shot up, "(y/n)?" He asked staring at your hand and then at you and much to his relief, your eyes began to flutter open. He let out a sound that was half laugh, half sob. Utter relief crashed over him, "You're awake," he grinned, "you're actually awake."

"A-Alex?" You croaked.

"Here," he said gently as he grabbed a plastic cup and straw and filled it with water from the jug on your bedside unit, "Drink up. How you feeling?"

"Sore."

"Multiple ruptured organs and a few broken bones'll do that to you," Alex teased with a smile. You noticed his hand was still in yours, warm and strong. He saw your eyes narrow at your joined hands and he was quick to pull his back despite everything inside him not wanting to, "I- I'm gonna page Bailey, you drink up." He helped you take the water and left. He was just outside, close enough to make sure that you were still safe - still alive.

It was as he left you looked around the room and you noticed the camping cot which was set up on the floor next to your bed. You frowned. Someone had been staying here. Was it... no, it couldn't have been Alex; Alex hated you.

Your thoughts were cut off by Bailey bursting into your room, "Oh thank the Lord," she grinned, "it's good to see you awake. You scared us." As Bailey checked you over, Alex returned to the seat next to you. Bailey saw your confused expression seeing him sat there, normal clothes not working, "Karev," she said, "go and get (y/n) a sandwich, will you? She's hungry." Alex went to argue, to tell Bailey she told him not to leave your room but Bailey's pointed look made him stop and nod. He left a second later giving you one last worried look, "She's fine now go."

You looked up at Bailey who sighed and looked down at you, "You had that boy scared to death, you know."

"Who? Alex?!"

Bailey nodded, "You're not the only one who's surprised. As soon as you were admitted he was here. It was his day off and he was here. Soon as you got outta surgery he was set up in your room. He hasn't left since Tuesday."

You looked down to the cot next to you, "He's been here the whole time?"

Bailey nodded, "I don't know what's going on between the two of you - if anything - but I'd say that there's something." Your frown deepened and Bailey smiled, "Just... be patient with him."

When Alex came back, Bailey gave you a secret nod with a knowing smile before she left promising to come check on you every hour and to not dare think about going back into a coma otherwise she would kill you. "I'm a doctor, I know how to save people but I know how to kill them too."

"Hey," Alex said as he placed a sandwich and soda on the unit beside your bed, "You okay?"

You nodded, finding yourself rather overwhelmed and touched by his actions. He - Alex Karev - had stayed by your side since the accident. What did that mean? What did Dr Bailey mean? You nodded quickly, "Yeah," you said softly, "just tired."

Alex puffed out a long breath as he sat in the seat next to your bed, "Yeah, you must be. Gave me- gave us all a fright."

Silence fell and the two of you fell into the comfort of the sounds of the hospital. You sipped at the soda Alex had brought before curiosity got the better of you, "Alex... why did you stay with me?"

You could've sworn his cheeks flushed a darker shade of pink but he rubbed his hands over his tired looking face so you couldn't have been sure, "Hell if I know," he muttered, "it's not like we're friends but... I didn't want you to be alone. You're the only one that's almost like a friend and... I dunno." He shrugged, "I don't really understand it myself." Maybe there was something deeper lurking under the surface but he didn't know. That was something you'd have to navigate together, "I know you'd have probably preferred Cristina or Mer-"

You took his hand and gave it a gentle squeeze, "Thank you, Alex," you whispered, "for everything. Thank you." Now, this time you could see the tips of his ears go pink. You smiled, "Now when are you going to shower cause boy you are looking rough-"

"Shut up!" Alex rolled his eyes but he laughed with you and for once, it felt nice to joke around with him. It felt normal. You didn't know what was going to happen but you somehow knew that he would be beside you, figuring out this crazy journey together and somehow, that made it a little less scary.

[lovelybrooke]

Since my hazbin hotel concept didn't really go over the characters reactions to the readers dissaperrance, I thought I'd go over it here.

masterlist

---

Charlie

Charlie is so, so very sad. She doesn't know what she did wrong, why would you leave? Part of her wonders if it's her, if it's the hotel, maybe she did something wrong and now you're gone.

Charlie devotes all her time into finding you, you have to be somewhere. But after days and days of looking and finding nothing, not even a trace, she starts to feel like it's hopeless.

Charlie switches between intense depression and motivation constantly. She'll spend weeks in her room, alone, only letting Vaggie in. Then, suddenly, she'll burst out and demand that they get on with the search. It's like she's a completely different person, but deep down, everyone can tell that she's racked with guilt.

She just has to find you, she'll even get his dad to help if it comes to it. It doesn't matter, whatever it takes. She just wants to apologize for...whatever she did. Once you're back in the hotel, she'll make everything right, so right that you won't want to leave again.

Vaggie

Vaggie is well...Vaggie. She's conflicted. She doesn't know whether to feel afraid, upset, worried. It's too many emotions to shift through, too complicated. Because of these complicated feelings, she has a hard time being there for Charlie. She want's to help with the search, she really does, but at the same time she doesn't want to have to accept the fact that you truly are gone.

Lucifer isn't even able to find you, Alastor isn't even able to find you. You have to bee somewhere far away to stay out of there reach. The longer you're gone, the longer she's left wondering what made you leave. In your last few days at the hotel you were distant, like mentally. You were incapable of paying attention to anyone or anything, and thinking back on it, she should've known something was up.

She feels ashamed for being so guarded around you, for making it seem like she was weary of you. She was, but the point still stands. You're a nice kid, way too nice to be in hell. Maybe heaven realized that, and sent you back to where you belonged. No--

She won't have that, that isn't right, and it's not fair. It's not fair to Charlie, it's not fair to her, it's not fair to anyone else. You shouldn't just get to dig yourself into everyone in the hotel and then get ripped away when they finally accepted it. It's not fair.

If it was heaven that took you from them, she'll make them pay.

Angel

Angel wants closure.

He gets why you left, he really does. You're too good for this place, for all these people, and so you left, he gets it. What he wants is for you to tell him to his face that it wasn't his fault.

He looks back on his interactions with you, him closing himself off only to welcome you in at the very last moment, the moment where he craved friendship and stability the most, only to then push you away when you needed him. You were struggling, with--something.

Something he has no understanding of. He can't decipher anything behind those blank eyes, he can't figure out what your monotone words mean, and it worries him. He wants to be there for you, offer you comfort, anything.

But he knows he'll just ruin you more. He'll say something, do something, and you'll leave him, you'll hate him. He'll infect you, ruin you, until you're nothing more than a shell of what you used to be, and he hates the thought.

But it doesn't matter now, because even after keeping you at arms length, after depriving himself of you, you still leave, and all he's left with is the pain of not knowing. Not knowing if he did something, if he hurt you, if this is his fault.

But what hurts the most is the pain of not knowing if he could've done something, said something, did anything other than wallow in his own pity and desperation.

Maybe if he did you'd still be here. But he'd never know, would he.

Husk

Husk immediately assumes Alastor is to blame.

That Radio Demon is up to something, he's been gone for days since you left, doing whatever the fuck. He assumes, hopes, that Alastor is looking for you, because if anyones to find you its him. But of course, Alastor tells him nothing. So all he can do is hope.

Hope that you're somewhere safe, somewhere good. He hopes that there's someone nice taking care of you, or that you're at least taking care of yourself. He hopes that you're happy, and healthy, and everything else a kid should be. Because ultimately that's all Husk has, is hope.

He wonders what he could've done, if anything. He wonders what Alastor is going to do, if anything. He wonders what's going to eventually happen when they don't find you, and you're gone, and everyone just has to accept that you're not coming back. He wonders if that's even possible.

Because as a bartender he watches as Angel drink his days away, and as Charlie slaves away with searching for you, and as Vaggie spends all her time in her head.

And when Alastor is at the Hotel, he watches as he converses with Charlie, both of them talking in hushed whispers. He can hear the static, and the screams, and the pleas as Alastor demands to know how you haven't been found. And for a second, he sees worry in Alastor.

And in turn, Husk worries, because if you, and you disappearing, is so easily capable of making Alastor lose his composer, than something must be wrong. If Alastor isn't able to find you, and it's making him worry then it must be serious, it must be real.

But even so, Husk hopes. He hopes you're safe, and happy, and healthy. Because now there's the possibility that you're not coming back, and Husk has nothing left but hope.

Alastor

Alastor knew something was up with you.

From the moment you appeared in Hell, he knew you weren't right. You were too...alive for a demon. You were too naive for someone in Hell. You were too human.

For a while, there was nothing Alastor could do to prove his thoughts and honesty, he didn't want to. It was fun, watching as you stumble about this world completely unaware of what you've gotten yourself into. You're interesting, and you intrigue him. You should be proud, that's not something most can do.

But as your stay in hell lengthens, his feelings for you a mudded. His intrigue is turned into obsession, an obsession for you naivety, for you humanness. It makes him wonder how, or why you're down here. What you must've done to be placed here, even if you are somehow alive.

Alastor hasn't felt like this in a long time, and a part of him despises you for it. He hates the feelings that washes through his chest when he's around you, almost paternal like. He hates the way he faltered when he was told of your disappearance. And he hates the anger that course through him after weeks of not being able to find you.

Alastor looks everywhere, in every corner of Hell for any sign of you, and comes up with nothing, and it enrages him. It's an emotion he's more familiar with, rage, and for some reason hates it.

Because this type of rage is only direct at people who take you from him, this type of rage means you had the gaul to leave him. But this type of rage is the thing motivating him to keep searching and he looks forward to when you back with him.

Because you will be back with him, and the rage will be gone, and instead be replaced with that sweat, unfamiliar obsession that he's come to crave.

[avatar-anna]

Pale Green Stripes

The Professor Masterlist

this takes place during The Professor Series!

"Did you know you're the only person who never tries to interrupt me?"

"What do you mean?"

Harry and Y/n lay on the carpeted floor of her townhouse. Their shoulders touched, but that was about it. Even so, Harry could feel that tiny bit of contact throughout his entire body. The professor probably had a word for that, a scientific term to explain why just the slightest graze—not even skin against skin—sent him into a tailspin that made him have to focus extra hard on what she said.

Y/n's hands knotted together on her lap, a thing she did when she held herself back. It was as if she had to physically restrain herself some way to keep her from speaking out of turn. Harry personally never thought she did, from their first meeting at the bookstore, he'd been fascinated by her, by the things she said.

"I don't mean to...impart information on people the way that I do. It just happens sometimes," she said, her eyes gazing up at the ceiling.

Harry knew he probably should've too, but he couldn't help but look at the professor instead. Her hair fanned out around her shoulders, she wore a string of pearls around her neck and earrings made to look like Salvador Dalí's melting clocks in her ears. Her jewelry was always a mix of something professional and a little quirky, Harry came to realize, as if even at work as a professor at Cambridge University she couldn't help but have a little fun.

Her wardrobe consisted of patterned socks and cherry red Adidas shoes and fun knitted sweaters and vests. Today she merely wore a cozy navy blue sweater and a flowy white skirt, her red shoes were on a rack by the door, but she still wore her ruffled socks with embroidered roses on them.

"I don't mind it at all," he replied honestly.

Y/n blinked a couple times, then said, "I know. I was surprised at first because everyone usually cuts me off. Or walks away."

Harry frowned. He couldn't help but notice how clinically the professor spoke about the hurtful things that had been done to her. By her family, so-called colleagues, the few friends she had at work. He couldn't fathom anyone finding Y/n anything less than wonderful. She was brilliant, yes, but funny, and charismatic, and had a knack for storytelling. Harry never wanted her to stop talking. Ever.

"I like listening to you," he told her, shrugging as best he could given his current prone position.

"That's probably because you never finished school and are trying to make up for lost time."

From anyone else, that would've been a joke, a jab, but Y/n took education seriously, had mentioned it numerous times since they met.

Still, Harry chuckled. "Maybe I just like the sound of your voice. Maybe I just like hearing what you have to say. Maybe I find your lectures highly arousing."

"Edward!"

Even as he laughed with her, Harry couldn't help but feel guilty. He knew he should tell her, he should've told her months ago. His middle name fired out of his mouth before he could think the first time Y/n asked him for his name. A desire for anonymity, that was all it was. He didn't think he'd see her again outside the one time, so he thought it would be harmless. Then they did keep meeting, and he didn't have the guts to tell her, and now he was too deep in the lie to find a way out.

"What?"

Harry had never been shy about his attraction to the professor, even if he'd only seen half of her face due to the mask she wore. There was so much to appreciate about her, so much to admire, and he let his own imagination do the rest. He could've, of course, looked her up online. Y/n had mentioned something about posting educational videos online, but he thought it was only fair that if she didn't know what his entire face looked like that he didn't either.

"Why do you say stuff like that?" she asked, and even without the mask, Harry could tell she was blushing.

"Like what?"

"About me. About—about your attraction to me and how you find me—or think I'm a—"

"Yes?" Harry encouraged. He could tell there was a word or phrase she had in mind but was too embarrassed to use.

"In the 16th Century, the word bellibone was first used. It's derived from French etymology using the words belle and bonne to describe a woman who excels in both beauty and goodness. There's really only one known use in the late 1500s. A poet named Edmund Spenser, though he was from Ireland. It's fascinating how a word can be used once then ceases to exist, don't you think?"

Harry blinked, not totally prepared for the tangent, though perhaps he should've been. Grinning beneath his mask, he said, "I think it describes you perfectly."

"Edward," Y/n said, now her neck was flushed too.

"Does it make you uncomfortable?" he asked. "The compliments? The—" He might as well call it what it was—"flirting?"

"N—No."

"Because I'll stop if it does," he promised. "I just think you should know how devastating you are."

One of the professor's eyebrows quirked up in confusion. "That was an interesting choice in adjective."

But it was the perfect one. Harry knew he couldn't be with Y/n the way he wanted when she didn't know the truth about who he was, and he couldn't risk losing her if he finally told her. Perhaps it was unfair to play at something he knew he couldn't have, but part of him wanted Y/n to know that she was desirable, that she was more than what her intellect offered. Sure, Harry found her intelligence sexy as all get out, but she was also beautiful, and funny, and kind, and he didn't think anyone had ever complimented more than just her brain.

He would spend an entire day complimenting her if he had the time, or if she let him.

But while Y/n was confident in many things, romantic feelings weren't one of them. Despite the obstacles he put in his own way, Harry didn't think the professor was quite ready to hear how much he really liked her.

"Tell me something."

"Like what?" Y/n asked.

"Anything," Harry said, facing her and propping his head in his hand. "A book you read, something that fascinates you, your least favorite student, anything."

She narrowed her eyes at him as she positioned her body to face his. "I don't have a least favorite student."

"I don't believe you," he replied, narrowing his eyes back playfully.

Y/n scanned his face, then up and down his body. It was casual, though Harry noticed that her gaze lingered in places—his arms, his shoulders, his face. He wore a mask, but he tried to suppress his grin anyway. Then, before he could tease her more, her eyes lit up.

"Did you know the stripe pattern originated in the Middle Ages?"

He never knew, but she always prefaced her information the same way. "Did it?"

Nodding to the green striped shirt Harry wore, she said, "Stripes were used to identify social outcasts. Prostitutes, criminals, hangmen, clowns and jugglers; they all had to wear stripes so they were easily recognizable in regular society."

"Clowns?"

"Outcasts and people who were...not society's favorites, like court jesters and such. European governments even legalized the requirement of certain citizens to wear stripes. Though now, of course, stripes are popular due to Coco Chanel wearing a striped shirt similar to French sailor uniforms, which, you know, sailors were also usually the lowest rank of the French navy. Then stripes began appearing in women's activewear in the 1920s, Al Capone began wearing pinstriped suits, and the rest is history. A long, brutal history, obviously, seeing as prisoners were later forced to wear striped uniforms, and prisoners in concentration camps during World War Two, but—there you have it. A brief, slightly detailed history of the stripe."

Harry looked down at his long sleeved shirt, the thin pale green and white striped that lined his arms and torso. "Not sure if I'll be able to wear stripes again, but... that's really fascinating."

"Thought you might like that," Y/n said with a shrug.

Harry tilted his head questioningly. "Why do you say that?"

"You like clothes."

He didn't question how she knew that. With her background, Y/n seemed to know things about him that she just happened to observe. It was a little disconcerting at first, but he came to appreciate that he didn't have to pretend around her. No airs, no personas, none of the things he'd become so accustomed to in recent years. The professor might not have known about Harry's career, but she knew him in ways no one else did.

"Well," he said, playfully sighing at his shirt. "Guess I'm never wearing stripes again."

Y/n's eyes squinted and her mask scrunched a little, the way they always did when she smiled. With an unmistakable glint in her eye, the adorable one she always got when Harry indulged in her. "Wait until you hear about polka dots!"

Harry sighed, a mix of exasperation and amusement making him chuckle a little. "Tell me more, love."

[impactedfates]

"You were...everything" - Archons + Wanderer x GN! Reader

★ Summary: Your immortal lover was a wonderful experience...and you were everything to them (i.e - immortal characters reaction to you dying)

☆ Characters Included (Separate): Venti, Zhongli, Ei/Raiden Ei, Furina + Scaramouche/Wanderer

★ Genre/Trope: Hurt/No Comfort (I tried anyways)

☆ Warnings: Major Character Death (You)

★ Extra: Some may know the audio, others may not. But I think it's angsty so here you go // Furina might be OOC as I haven't actually done the Fontaine story quest yet

As the anemo archon, Venti cared deeply about freedom. And he also cared deeply about you. He was a great boyfriend and was never that protective of you, he always believed you deserve to have freedom, not to be tied down by any restrictions.

But maybe he should've trusted his gut when you went away on one of your adventures, he always sent the wind to protect you and it would always bring you back into his arms. But when the wind could only return the sound of silence when you were meant to come back. He grew worried.

One day, a knock on his door came and he went to check. Jean stood there and looked at Venti before slightly bowing to him, she didn't need to utter a word. He knew what was going on.

You were gone.

Gone due to an accident. Gone because you wanted to protect others but that only got yourself killed.

After that day, after your funeral not many saw him. For days on end, when he did show his face though. He had a smile, continued on with his life as if nothing happened.

But people around him, even people who didn't know him well enough. Could see with each passing day, that this mask he put on would soon fall. He wouldn't be able to act like he got over your death, he never will.

But at least you had freedom right? Wherever you were. He just wished it was with him.

Zhongli was used to seeing people close to him come and go. He knew eventually you'll leave him too as many others did before. He knew he'd likely outlive you, so he wanted to make sure he spent as much time with you as possible. Telling you he loved you and making sure you felt loved.

He never wanted for you to be stripped away from him, and you promised you wouldn't. You two made a contract. A contract that stated you'll be with him for as long as you could, because even you knew he'd outlive you. A contract where he vowed to protect you.

You two truly loved each other, it's a shame he couldn't save you that day. The day where your contract with him ended. Too soon for the ex-archons' liking. He should've been the one to take the hit, he would've been just fine. But you cared about him too much to even see him hurt.

And all he could do was finish the treasure hoarders off before carrying you and running as fast as he could to a doctor. He wanted to believe you'll be okay, he just needed to get there faster, get your wounds treated.

But he knew deep down that no matter how much he hoped, the feeling of your body growing cold against his arms was enough to tell him he was too late.

He had lost you.

But what did he expect? He knew himself loving a mortal would be dangerous, he knew loving a mortal would mean he would eventually lose them.

Yet when he met you, he couldn't help but fall in love.

He was silent at your funeral, silent after that day. No amount of Hu Taos attempts at lightening his mood would work. Nor would anyone's attempts.

He had lost someone he had sworn to protect, and he couldn't even do that.

Eternity.

That's how long Ei wanted to be with you. For all of eternity, for as long as she's able to hold you in her arms, for as long as your mortal life would let her.

She never wanted to let you go. For you to go. She's already lost so many people she cared about. You couldn't be one of them. She didn't want you too. She did everything in her power to protect you.

But that didn't stop her finding your motionless body on the ground.

She knew she didn't have the best reputation after the Vision Hunt Decree. She knew people would be mad at her. She knew people may want revenge against her.

But why did you have to be the one hurt? You did nothing. You did nothing but love her and help her settle back in the life she once abandoned. You were so dear to her heart, you were so kind to her.

You didn't deserve the fate you received.

She never went to your funeral, only hearing from Yae Miko about how it went. The kitsune saw the look on Ei's face and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"They wouldn't like if you went back into isolation you know"

The archon knew that, and she wouldn't want to make you upset. Even if she couldn't see you, she knew that wherever you were, you wouldn't like it. She even promised to you she wouldn't.

She continued on ruling over Inazuma. Things were at ease, the culprits responsible for your death were punished. People were starting to warm up to her, though her actions were never forgotten.

And just as she wanted to, she'll be with you for all of eternity. Even if that was merely by your grave.

Furina always worried if she was a good archon, if she made her people happy despite how she may act around them. She knew she likely could never fully replace the past archon but she wanted to be liked.

Furina also worried if she was a good partner to you, yet despite how she may act to mask her insecurities. You stayed with her. You made her feel more confident in herself. She's truly so grateful for you. She never wanted you to disappear.

But you did.

The trail had to be rigged. It just had too. You weren't a criminal. But all odds pointed to you. But she knew you weren't the culprit for the crime.

It wasn't like you.

You wouldn't have done that.

You were with her that day.

She wanted to speak out, she had too. But her mouth went dry, no words could come out as you were taken away, to be detained. To be placed somewhere until the set day of your death.

And she could only watch silently as it all happened.

After that day, after the one she loved so dearly, the one who loved her despite her flaws was gone from her life. She was never the same. No one saw her act as she did before. She only sat in her seat silently as trails went on.

People of Fontaine, even the ones who weren't too satisfied with her. Was worried for her, of how she was going to be. If she was going to be okay.

But she won't be.

She had failed her nation. She had failed you.

"Get up!"

"Getupgetupgetup, GET UP."

Those were the only words that Wanderer could think to yell at you. He shook you, pinched you. Anything, just anything to wake you up. You were just asleep right?

Yeah, just asleep. Just taking a peaceful nap. Sure, your eyes showed nothing but it being unfocused.

But you were just daydreaming like you always do right?

Sure your body had become cold.

But that's just how your temperature is right?

You're not dead. You can't be dead. You told him you wouldn't betray him. Then why weren't you waking up? Stop messing with him. It isn't funny. It's not funny.

Please, just let him see your smile again. Just once.

.

.

. Please?

Nahida slowly came behind him and patted his back, trying her best to reassure him. Wanderer could only continue looking into your eyes as they slowly lost their light. His shakes to your body slowed down as he finally and quietly let out a faint sob.

You were the only one able to fully break down his walls, to fully see him for who he is. You didn't mind his words, you loved him. He loved you. People were thankful you two were together as the words that would leave the puppets mouth became much less harsh.

After the day you left him, betrayed him in his eyes. He got back to his usual self before he met you. He became much harsher though, to the point Nahida advised him to take a few days off. Just being alone. Just to cool down. It wouldn't be fair for others to be victim to his harsh words just because of how upset he was with what happened.

He wanted to hate you, he wanted to despise you for breaking your promise about not leaving him, he wanted to ignore you because you betrayed him like many others did before...but he loved you.

But he no longer could have you.

Teehee. I only based Furina on what I think she's like, I gotta stop procrastinating and actually start the quest fweooif (please don't spoil!!)

Also I am aware that archons can exactly die, however I'm pretty sure they can't from old age. So if all goes well, they can live for awhileeee.

Anyways! I hope you liked it :>> I might make a pt 2 with different characters if this gets enough attention.

Thanks for reading!!

[amaranthineghost]

ahh!! i think i speak on behalf of a lot of people when i say i need a part two, because that was so amazing and so beautifully written 🫶🏻🫶🏻

| I CAN'T NOT HAVE YOU, I'LL TRAVEL THE SOLAR SYSTEM TO MEND OUR STARS ( lando norris. ) |

ꕥ pairings: lando x reader

ꕥ parts: 1

ꕥ tagging: @gulphulp

ꕥ summary: they hadn't seen each other in months after their breakup, which left them in more misery than they thought. because now they'll do anything to make it work.

ꕥ authors note: I've been planning this in my head while writing the first part to this and i really like how this came out! going to work on christmas imagines and also finish up a request that I've been meaning to write!

ꕥ warnings: smut (at the end if you don't want to read that part), heavy angst (wanted to break some hearts), mentions of alcohol abuse and heavy drinking, mentions of eating struggles. not proofread the end.

IT'D BEEN MONTHS. months since he last abandoned her in their old apartment. since he drove off in his mclaren, punched the rearview mirror because he couldn't take it. to this day, he regretted it with every fiber of his being. he tried to convince himself for days on end, it was for the better. but was it really?

he was struggling. he couldn't sleep properly, staring at the dark ceiling, feeling beside him in the bed for another warm body, breaking his heart more every time he reminded himself that she wasn't here. it was cold.

it was cold despite the blistering summer heat of monaco, windows open to let in the heat. max swore at him every time because despite being rich, he was letting out cool air. but lando couldn't stand the cold. without her, his heart was frigid.

it worsened as the months grew colder and races passed him by. he was peforming fine, for now, but he'd reach his limit soon enough.

he hated when the air got bitterly frozen because this year, he wouldn't have her. he wouldn't have the heat that radiated off her to keep him warm.

he'd waste himself away with alcohol to forget the memory of leaving her. it turned his stomach in knots everytime to think of her watching him leave because they didn't know what to do to fix them. he wish he knew, he should've.

more often than not, he'd spent his nights on bathroom floors of the club, puking his guts out into the toilet, or sitting on the kitchen floor belonging his temporary roommate, max fewtrell. he sat against the tiled floor and wooden cabinets with a half-emptied bottle in his hands, tears on his face.

he'd sit there for hours, wasting away with every sip burning at his throat. he hated alcohol, but it was the only way to cope because he didn't want to remember any moment without her.

when he was nearly passed out on the floor, max would drag him up by his arms, forcing more than a few glasses of water down his throat. he'd grown familiar with his friend's new sulking.

max threw him on the guest room bed he didn't bother to make because he was miserable. he made it everyone's problem then. he'd leave his passed out friend a concoction of medicines to help with the hangover, he'd gotten used to this routine for the past couple of months.

when lando would stumble his way down the stairs, hands wrapped in his curls with a splitting pain through his head and a grimace on his face, all max would comment is "well, aren't you a pitiful sod."

lando rolled his eyes, groaning at the pain as he did so, sitting on a chair at the table across from his best friend, cringing at the resemblance of dinners with his girl—who wasn't even his anymore.

"jesus, mate, maybe you do need an intervention." he'd push his bowl of oatmeal towards lando, watching the expression on his face closely.

"I'm fine."

"clearly not," max scoffed, "mate, it's great havin' you here, but y'need to sober up."

"I will."

"you've said that last month, and the month before that, and the month before that." he shook his head, "I don't even get why you guys broke up."

lando groaned, rubbing his fingertips to his temple and chugging the water before he spoke, "it wasn't working out, 'ts for the best."

"for the best? are you kidding me?" he scoffed his friend's words, he couldn't believe what he was hearing.

to max, breaking up was for the worst. he could tell lando was in misery, and he'd guess she was the same, maybe worse. maybe he didn't know much, but he knew enough to know that they were meant for each other.

"I'm not kidding," he muttered, pushing the oatmeal around the bowl, his spoon clinking against the sides, "besides, we tried to fix it, 'n it didn't work."

he paused, "fix it 'ow?"

lando rolled his eyes, feeling the consequences of his actions through his head, mumbling under his breath, "we went out to eat."

"you're jokin' me?" he leaned forward, a look of disbelief and disappointment on his face, "you went out to eat? how's that goin' to solve anything?"

lando shrugged again, refusing to look max in the eye as he pushed the mush around in his bowl, picking out the bits of fruit throughout.

"you're a real geezer, y'know that?" he sighed deeply, leaning back into the stool as he sat looking at his idiotic friend, "it was a perfectly salvageable relationship, mate, and you just threw it away." he shook his head, his arms crossed against his chest as he leaned his head on one hand.

"you gonn' call me a muppet next?" he aggressively bit into the small strawberry.

"might as well because you're acting like one. now why did you break up with her?"

"she broke up with me." he quietly corrected him, though it didn't seem to shed light on the fact that they didn't try as much as they thought they did.

"then fight for your relationship!" max exclaimed, throwing his hands up in response, "did you ever talk about what was wrong?"

"we didn' have time to," lando admitted, "and we didn't know what to do." he pushed aside the bowl, having barely touched the food residing in it. it's gone cold now, just like him.

"make the time!" he suggested, jabbing his finger into the counter to make a point, "when was the last time you were alone together?"

"when we had dinner together."

max groaned, shoving his face into his hands, rubbing his closed eyes on his palms. lando was starting to give him a headache, "when was the last time you were alone together, no people, no cameras, no fans, just you and her doing something?"

"i 'ont know."

"jesus, man." his voice muffled into his skin as his face remained in his palms because of the idiocracy of his friend.

"well, what do you suggest i do then, max?" lando's tone got seemingly more aggressive and annoyed, the volume of his voice raising slightly.

"actually spend time with her! take her on holiday!" he suggested, matching energies.

"mate, I can't just ask her after months of not speakin'," lando's stool pushed against the floor as he stood up, he was agrivated. he harshly grabbed the bowl with the cold food and shoved it in the sink.

max turned in his seat, "right, so just give up and go back to drinkin' then?"

lando ignored the comment, it infuriated him because max was right. if he didn't find the solution to his problem, he probably would go back to getting blackout drunk. all in hopes that'd help forget his misery

he leaned against the sink with his arms, his head hung between his inner biceps with his eyes closed, taking deep breaths before asking, "how should I ask her then?"

"you truly are a muppet."

"christ, just help m'out here!" lando pleaded because he couldn't take it anymore. he'd been losing himself to however many bottles of alcohol that'd stacked in the bin and the amount of over-the-counter drugs he'd force down his burned throat. all to forget what seemed like an impossible fix, but all he needed was another person. just because they didn't know what to do doesn't mean others wouldn't.

and of course max would help. he just had to give lando a hard time for screwing up so badly because he would've never expected him to show up at his front door midday, stumbling drunk and muttering slurred phrases about her.

his first thought when he saw his disoriented friend was to wonder if something had happened, the obvious answer being, obviously. because lando barely drank. max knew how much he couldn't stand the taste and chasing burn so it wasn't often you'd catch him drunk, much less to this extent.

he knew it had to involve his girlfriend by the here-and-there words he could decipher from the rest, but he couldn't expect to get the full story from the utter nonsense his friend spewed.

it wasn't till morning max discovered the extent of lando's stupidity.

" 'ts your relationship," max sighed, "and you realize she might not be so accepting to see you."

it hurt to think about. he didn't know what was worse, for her to be in such misery like himself or for her to not want him back. his stomach tied itself in knots to even think about, but he was the one who left her in the first place.

"yeah, I know."

he was lost without her. everything seemed so meaningless without her by his side, though she hadn't been for months, even when they were together. but the idea of her presence somewhere in his vicinity was all he needed.

she was like a drug he tried so hard to quit because it seemed to be getting him no where. but he was addicted. all he thought about when he wasn't drunk was her. every single dollar wasted on booze was drank to forget her. the lack of her in his life.

so when he showed up at her doorstep, it was more than just a shock. she'd opened the door, the last thing she expected was to see him, standing with an expression that seemingly matched hers. the smell of booze wafting from his clothes and the bittersweet smell of his cologne she had long forgotten about. smelling it again brought back everything she tried to learn to forget about him.

she wanted to be mad, to push and kick him away, but she'd been waiting for months for him to reappear into her life. for him to come back to her, the anticipation built in her body every time the door bell echoed off the walls, or knocks that pounded against the door.

but instead she slammed the door almost immediately, and he didn't blame her. how could he when he'd been the one to leave. because on the other side of that door, her heart was pounding.

she'd been wanting to see him for so long, so badly wanted him back in her life, but what if they made the same mistakes? she couldn't take losing him a second time because she'd already lost most of herself when he drove away the first time.

because she'd watched her future slip through her fingertips and there wasn't anything she knew that would make her catch it.

she knew she was to blame for breaking them up. it was for the best, she told her guilty conscience, but it didn't change the heart-wrenching want to have him back.

she'd spent months in the cocoon she made of their cold bed, ultimately settling on his side to feel closer to him. but what was the point? he hadn't slept in that bed in months, the sheets that reeked of him faded, and even more so when he left her, for at the time she thought, forever.

"love, please," he pleaded against the door, his forehead against the cold metal, "I screwed up, but please, let me fix this, us."

she hesitated. she knew she was the type to let people who hurt her back into her life so easily, as if nothing happened, but she was the one who forced him out. she knew that.

so when the door creaked open, he pushed himself away from the door as fast as lightning. her doe eyes peaking around, staring at his chest before they found their way to his face. he'd changed. he looked tired, unkept. she'd be lying if she said she looked the same as she did months ago because she honestly looked worse than him.

because being apart brought out their worst qualities in themselves that they'd helped the other through, but it resurfaced.

when he'd gotten a good look at her, he realized she definitely wasn't the same girl she was months ago. he'd notice the dark circles under her eyes, half-lidded and puffy, begging for sleep. the oversized hoodie he left her, though surprisingly clean, was well-worn by her. through the baggy cloth, he could tell her physique was slimmer, he felt nauseous.

she couldn't stand the silence between them even when they lived the last months of their relationship filled with it. they were both hurting and they both knew it, but they'd assume the other would be the one to patch it up. that's where they messed up, they seem to do it a lot.

"so why now are you here?" she'd cut through the silence with a butter knife, sawing back and forth as she stumbled where she stood. she struggled to keep her balance, lack of energy will do that to you.

"I realized how much of an idiot I was," he stepped closer, bringing his hand to hers, pressing her fingers between his. he trailed the pads of his fingertips down her hand and to her wrist. he'd latch on, caressing the soft skin, he'd remember the feeling.

"but I was the one who broke you with you."

he didn't mean it like that, to insinuate that she was the idiot for breaking them up because in no way did he blame her. he put the blame all on him for not fighting for them.

" 'nd I was the one who left."

she stared up at him, her big eyes doing things to him, he shouldn't feel it in a moment like this, but he did. he just wanted her back, to feel her lips on his, her smooth skin under his soft but callused hands.

her lips parted when she'd realize the feeling of warmth against her face, his hand running along her jaw to her chin. though she was already looking up at him, he pushed her head up further, but so softly.

his voice was raspy and deep, pleading, "please, darlin'." she couldn't say no even if the voice inside her head and the feeling in her heart told her to.

"just don't leave again."

he could never, not after the misery he'd been through without her, blackout nights to forget everything that had led up to their break up. he couldn't imagine the anguish he put her through.

and at those words, he couldn't hold back anymore, his lips colliding with hers so desperately, like he needed her to survive. he kind of did. he tasted faintly of alcohol and fruit, she tasted like mint. her lips moved softly against his passionate kiss because he was acting like she was his oxygen, his water, his everything because she was.

his hand tangled in her hair, the sounds of their breaths between their lips, the heavy heat that surrounded the air as they separated.

"let's go somewhere," he'd suggest, his chest rising and falling more noticeably now.

her lips became a swollen pink as she looked up at him, dazed as her eyes flickered between his green eyes, "where?"

he shook his head, smiling. god, she missed that smile. he spoke so softly now, "anywhere, you pick. it'll jus' be us."

money didn't matter to him. if she wanted to travel to the moon and back, he'd make it happen because he wanted to make things right. he wanted to show her he was all in now because he would never take another step out ever again.

so they'd travel across the world. he'd rent out hotels, restaurants, amusement parks, anything she'd want. like max said, he wanted this between the two of them. no cameras, no fans, no public. just them enjoying their time together and alone at the most beautiful places she could think of.

she'd end up on an island with him, the only other people being the employees of the resorts he'd rent out. he did everything with her.

they went on yachts around the crystal waters and coral reefs surrounding the beaches that they'd later lay and tan on. they'd talk as they bathed in the sunlight. snorkeling while holding hands and pointing out various species that inhabited the waters.

candle-lit dinners sitting across from each other, though their hands never left each other. they'd been offered fancy wines, lando ultimately opting out. she understood. they tried the exotic foods and other virgin drinks the resort had to offer.

they had long runs along the beach, heavy makeout sessions on stranded towels where they couldn't take their hands off the other, deciding to take the trip back to their hut over the waters.

when they'd make it back, he wasted no time because he missed her, the feeling of her around him, the taste of her.

as soon as the hut door slammed shut, his veined hand would be pressured on her neck, pushing at the skin under his fingertips to pull her into his lips. he was desperate, she knew that.

his lips were harshly against hers, she could feel the vibrations of his groans against her flesh, feeling his working hands across her chest, having left her neck temporarily to undo her tied bikini top. it was discarded onto the wooden floors with no further regard. they'd separate, foreheads pushed together and their noses clashing as their breaths mixed in the middle.

his head dipped below her jaw, biting at the skin of her neck. whimpers left her lips and she felt his smirk on her skin while she grasped at his curls. he slowly pushed their bodies towards the open laid bed behind her, her calf's meeting the mattress. he tugged at the elastic of her beach shorts, though deciding to take his time, which made it all the more agonizing for her, she needed him.

his lips trailed her body, leaving trails of his saliva and marks where he nipped at her skin, from her neck down to her chest. he groped her tits, earning a low groan from her as his tongue swirled her areola. she tugged his hair, his curls between each of her fingers as she bit back the sounds that forced through her throat. he was starved of her, which only turned her on more. she felt the heat between her thighs.

he'd kneel on his knees in front of her as he'd continue to leave a string of dark hickeys down her skin as he'd continue to her stomach, and just above her panty line, pulling the elastic of her shorts down. she'd almost just rip them off because she couldn't take how slow he'd move compared to when they first ended up in this situation.

his finger wrapped around the band, slowly pulling the material over the curves of her body, but he'd left her panties, which infuriated her. he did it all while looking straight up into her eyes, the glint in his eyes filled of lust and mischief. he'd lift her leg with his hand wrapped around the back of her knee, helping her kick off the clothing.

he'd kiss the skin just above the side of her knee, his lips glued to her skin as they traveled higher up her thighs, as well as his hands, sliding under the side of her panties. his nose brushed against the cloth of her cunt, ghostly stimulating her clit. it provoked a reaction out of her as she whined, and he'd continue to kiss along the line of her undergarment.

he may have started off desperate, but now he was taking his sweet time to take care of her. she wanted to badly for him to just hurry it along, wanting to feel him, but he'd rather enjoy the moment he had with her, like it was his last.

he pushed aside the cloth barrier, licking his lips as he eyed the wet patch caused by him, his warm breath panned across her cunt and she pleaded, "lan, please." god, he loved to hear her beg, it was music to his ears, but her moans were a symphony.

his two fingers slowly parted her folds, feeling her pulse under him as she moaned against the contact, he 'tsk'd at her reaction, "so wet for me, darling." his voice was raspy, deep and she cursed under her breath as she watched him lick her off his fingers.

the taste of her brought him back, he'd savor it because he hadn't before, not when he didn't realize it could've been the last. she was sweet, her skin smelling of vanilla as his nose brushed against her.

he'd had enough teasing for now, and gently he'd pull down her panties. she'd be fully exposed, but he was still dressed, his clothes feeling tighter around his body, specifically his swim shorts.

he didn't care. he'd thrown one of her legs over his shoulder as he flattened his tongue across her, feeling the tremble in her standing leg. he'd bury his lips in her cunt, vigorously tasting her like he hadnt eaten in weeks. his tongue lapped at her heat and she let out strings of curses interrupted by moans as she'd tug him closer to her by his hair.

vibrations of his groans stimulated her clit as he softly nipped at the sensitive flesh. he'd lapped at her cunt for not long before it became overwhelming, her moans growing high and squeaked as her legs nearly buckled.

he kept going, looking up at her with massively dilated eyes, half-lidded and seductive. her jaw went slack as she stared into his eyes, she felt the crescendo of her high and she'd nearly scream out his name as she came on his tongue. he'd lick up any remaining juice of hers.

his tongue left one long trail over her cunt, pressuring on her sensitive before pulling away, a trail of saliva connecting to his mouth and her slick glistened on his lips and chins. she panted heavily, he watched the rise and fall of her chest, felt the shaking of her knees as they nearly gave out under her.

he'd smile up at her, his goofy grin greeted her after her hazed high calmed. she'd roll her eyes at his light-heartedness after she'd just came on his tongue.

but it was moments like those that'd bring back the spark of youth and naivety to their relationship. because it was what they'd needed all along. all they needed was each other.

[bingbongsupremacy]

This might be bad but could you write a Steve Harrington story where he left the reader for nancy after they were secretly dating bc she’s plus sized. Then once he cleans up his act he writes her a letter. I was thinking it could be based on closure by Taylor Swift! Thank you !

Closure

This isn't bad ! I can totally do that. I listened to the song for the first time today so I hope you like this! Also, This is going to be a two part piece. I wanted to give some background context so that's what this first part is about. I'll be working on part 2 soon. I hope you don't mind.

Pairing: Steve Harrington x plus size!reader

Warnings: I'm not a basketball player nor have I ever been a manager. Honestly I've never really been to a basketball game so I'm not sure if this is all super accurate. Pls let me know. Cursing, Use of Y/N, use of the word girl, some self doubt.

Series Summary: You never knew Steve could be so shallow. When he leaves you to date Nancy Wheeler, you're left with a pain you thought he'd never leave cause you. Maybe you should've stayed friends.

*Not Proof Read* Stranger Things Masterlist

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 3

*****

Teenage love. Powerful. Fast. Fun. Potent.

The first boy I fell in love with was Steve Harrington. How couldn't I have? His perfect hair. Beautiful eyes. His flirty smile.

Every girl liked Steve at one point or another.

Steve and I grew up together in Hawkins. We never had the same classes together, but boy, I knew of Steve. We finally officially met in high school when I became the manager for the Hawkins High Basketball team.

Freshman Year - 1981

" Alright guys, huddle up. " Coach Ryan shouts to the sweaty boys drilling around the gym. " This is our manager. You will treat them with respect, you hear? I want none of that bullshit that went on last year. You got that Seniors? " Coach Ryan sends a pointed look at the upperclassmen. " If I hear of anyone disrespecting our manager, you'll be running on bleachers for the next month. I'm serious. "

What an introduction.

I shift slightly, a little uncomfortable with the gazes of the boys. I send a small smile to the team, trying to calm myself. " Hey, guys. Let me know if you need anything. " I scan the group in front of me. My eyes land on a familiar face on the back row. His friendly smile sends a wave of butterflies fluttering throughout my body. My eyes linger on him for a few seconds before I force myself to look away.

The last thing I need is for him to realize I like him. How awkward.

The coach makes a few more announcements before he dismisses the boys to the locker rooms.

" I needs you to gather up the balls and take them back to the equipment room. " Coach Ryan nods in the direction of the small closet on the other side of the room.

" Sure thing! Anything else? " I ask, reaching down to pick up one of the stray balls.

" Not that I can think of. I'll be in my office if you need me. " Coach Ryan nods a goodbye before heading towards the boys locker room where his office is located.

I look around the gym. Abandoned basketballs lay scattered around the gym. This is going to take a minute.

I pull the metal ball holder behind me as I begin picking everything up.

" Here ya go. " A voice startles me from behind.

I turn to see Steve holding two basketballs under his arms. He sends me a small smile.

" Sorry, didn't mean to scare you. " He sets the basketballs on the top rack.

I smile back at him. " It's all good. I scare easily. "

Steve jogs over to one of the balls a few feet away from us, swiftly picking it up.

" Oh, you don't need to do that. I've got it. It's my job anyway. "

Steve shakes his head, a looks piece of hair falling in front of his face. " I don't mind. It's kinda fucked up you have to clean up our mess. "

I shrug. " I mean, I signed up to do it. "

Steve nods. " Why did you sign up to be a manager? "

" Honestly, to get out of class. " I feel heat begin to spread over my face at the sound of Steve's laugh. " I hate biology. "

" Whaddya mean? Mr. Jackson's a world-class comedian. You're telling me you don't like his cell jokes? " Steve grins.

I cringe, memories of Mr. Jackson's awkward dad jokes and the silence following filling my mind. " I could do without. "

" You know, I don't think we've actually ever talked before. " Steve points out while heading towards another ball. Instead of returning it to the cart, he dribbles it towards the hoop closest to us. He shoots it into the hoop, the ball making a loud sound as it returns to the ground.

" Well, we've never had a class together. " I shrug, taking the ball from him as he hands it over to me.

" What a shame. "

Does Steve like talking to me?

" I mean, that doesn't mean we can't start now. We're gonna be stuck together for the next few months. "

Steve picks up the last basketball. " True. I gotta go get changed before my mom gets here. It's been nice. See ya tomorrow? " His eyes steadily hold my gaze.

I nod. " For sure. "

Steve's smile widens slightly. " Later, Y/N. "

" Bye Steve. " My throat feels tight from excitement. I can't believe that just happened. Steve knows I exist. He knows I exist! And he actually likes talking to me! This...this is fucking great.

Sophomore Year - 1982

" Hurry the fuck up, Y/N. " Steve groans, his sweaty forehead pressed against his forearm. He lazily leans against the now empty bleachers, his eyes following me as I finish writing down the total of money the team made off of concessions.

" I told you that you didn't have to wait for me. I have shit to finish up here. " I nod towards the clip board in front of me.

" I'd be a shitty friend if I left you here. What if you get...kidnapped or some shit. I'd be first on the suspect list. "

Friend. I'm only his friend. Gosh, I need to get over this stupid crush. I mean, it's been over a year since we met and he hasn't said anything about liking me. Why would he like me now? He's into girls like Chrissy. Why else would he flirt with girls like her and not with me? If he liked me he'd tell me. Right?

I roll my eyes, trying to shake off my thoughts and focus of the impatient boy in front of me. " Great to see you care about me so much. Definitely isn't because of your reputation. "

Steve lets out a small laugh. " You know I'm fucking with you, right? "

" I know. Look, I'm almost done. Grab your duffle from the locker, will you? By the time you get back I'll have everything finished. Plus it'll give me a break from your whiny ass. " I joke.

" Ouch. And here I thought you loved me. " Steve holds a hand up to his heart, humor clearly in his tone.

For a moment my heart begins to race. Love. He knows? He doesn't know. Shut the fuck up and be normal. He's a friend. Just a friend.

" What made you believe that? Tommy's obviously my number 1. "

I'm not the biggest fan of Tommy. He's hot a cold. Somedays he's decent, other days he's a complete shit head. He's changed a lot since middle school.

For a moment something flashes over Steve's expression. Surprise maybe? Annoyance? As quickly as it comes it's gone. His playful expression returns. " I'll be sure to let him know that. "

" Don't you fucking dare! " My head snaps towards him. " I'll kill you, Harrington. I'm not even joking. He'll never let me live that shit down, even if it's a lie. And Carol will beat the shit out of me. "

Steve raises an eyebrow in amusement. He leans back against the bleachers, crossing his arms. " Don't worry, I'll sell tickets for the show. I'll even cheer you on. "

I roll my eyes. " Of course you would. "

" I'm gonna go grab my stuff before the janitors lock the locker rooms up for the night. " Steve laughs, pushing himself up. " Hurry the fuck up before I leave you here. "

" You wouldn't dare. "

" Watch me. " With that, he strolls towards the direction of the locker rooms. His strides ooze with confidence, a kind only Steve can emit.

Steve truly is one of a kind.

Junior Year - 1983

" Are you going to prom? " Steve asks out of the blue. He doesn't bother looking up from his text book.

I swallow harshly, heat climbing up my cheeks. I hate when people ask me this. " Nah. Prom's overrated. "

Steve's eyebrow quirks up. " So you're a dance hater? "

I shrug. " I just don't see what the big deal is. Blowing a ton of cash for one night? I'd rather buy new records. " I debate whether or not to tell him the next part. " Plus no one's asked me. " They never do. Why would they when they could ask someone like Carol or Chrissy?

Steve finally looks up at me, his gaze finally meeting mine. Shock is evident in his expression. " Really? You haven't been asked? "

I shake my head, heat crawling up my face again. " Why would I? In case you haven't noticed, I don't really have a ton of guy friends. And my friend pool isn't the largest. "

Steve sends me a sympathetic smile.

Instead of comforting me, it annoys me. He doesn't understand. He's had girls asking him out and asking him to dances from the moment he was allowed to go to dances.

" Anyone would be lucky to take you. You're a great person, Y/N. "

I roll my eyes, laughing slightly. " Yeah. Lucky. "

Steve's eyebrows furrow. " Why are you laughing? I'm serious. You're like the coolest person I know. "

" Then you have a very unique perspective of the word cool. " I glance up at the clock on the wall behind him. " Shit, I told my mom I'd run to the store and pick up some potatoes for dinner. I'm gonna be late. I gotta go. " I rush to gather my notebooks off of the library table.

" Do you want me to take you? " Steve asks, getting up after me.

I shake my head. " It's fine. It's just down the street. You keep studying. Lord knows you need to. Gotta pass that calc test in Jones' class tomorrow. " Truthfully, I just want to get out of this conversation and I'm worried that if Steve gives me a ride it'll just reignite the topic.

" Are you sure? I really don't mind taking you. I can always study at home. "

" I'm fine Steve. Plus, if you try to 'Study' at home, you're not going to get anything done. I know you. "

Steve rolls his eyes. " I love your confidence in me. With your reassuring words I can do anything. "

I let out a small laugh. " Shut up. "

Steve grins.

Fuck he's perfect.

I need to get out of here.

" I'll see ya later Steve. " I wave at him, pulling my bookbag over my shoulder.

" Later, Y/N. Walk safe. Call me in an hour or two so I know you weren't kidnapped or forced to join a circus. " Steve's joking but a part of his expression seems serious. Like he's actually worried about me.

I let out a sigh. " I'll be fine but I'll call you. "

I wish I was the type of person boys would ask out. The type that don't have to do anything for people to crush on them.

But I'm not.

++++++

" Y/N, Steve's here! " My mothers voice calls up to me.

What? Why's Steve here?

Confused, I head downstairs. As soon as I reach the bottom my eyes widen. Steve's still in the doorway, a small box in his hands. His hair is styled perfectly, like always. He's dressed in a fancy suit, something I've only seen him do for fall sport award nights or very special occasions.

" What the...? " I finally get to the bottom of the stairs. " Steve? What's going on? "

" You're going to Prom with me. " Steve holds out the box, his comment more of a statement then a question.

" I don't have an outfit! " I protest, confusion still fogging my mind.

" Just put on whatever you have. Come on, Y/N. It's prom. You need to experience it at least once. Why not with me? "

I feel my stomach begin to churn. Steve's taking me to prom? What fucking dream have I been blessed with?

I chew on my bottom lip. " I'll be back. " I turn to run back up the stairs.

I can't believe I'm going to prom with Steve.

I do my best to get dressed quickly. I manage to find a semi appropriate outfit for the dance and we head out.

" Dinner first. The dance is at 9. " Steve pulls into a familiar diner. It's the diner the whole team eats at after winning a game.

" Oh, you forgot to put on your corsage. " Steve opens the small box, gently taking out a beautiful corsage.

" Oh Steve, you really didn't have to do that. " I stare down at the beautiful flowers. " This is too much. "

Steve shakes his head. " I want you to have a prom to remember. You deserve it. "

I send him a smile. " Thank you. You...you're really the best. "

His smile widens, sending butterflies through my body. He gently puts the corsage onto my wrist. His fingers are cool. They leave tingly sensations on the skin he touches.

For a moment it's silent. I try to find a way to calm my nerves.

He's your friend. Just a friend.

" Actually, Y/N. I also wanted to talk to you about something. " Steve breaks the comfortable silence.

" Yeah? Go for it. " I take a sip of my water, my eyes staying on him.

For the first time he looks nervous. Like he has so much to say but he doesn't know how to.

" Are you okay? " I ask, slightly concerned. He's always so confident. He knows who he is and he's proud of it. It's something I've always admired.

Steve nods, pulling his eyes away from his water cup. " I'm just going to say it. Fuck. " He runs a hand through his hair.

My heart begins to pound faster. What's going on?

" Fuck, I hope this doesn't make things weird. That's the last thing I want. Look, I really like having you as a friend... " He starts.

What the fuck is he going to say? Now I'm nervous. Does he have another girlfriend? Someone who doesn't like him being friends with me?

"-But...fuck, look I like you. " He blurts out, a small blush crawling up his cheeks. " I've liked you for years and I really want to be more than friends. And...I don't know if this makes it weird. If you don't like me, I completely understand. We can just pretend this shit didn't happen and go to prom and never talk about it again. I really don't want to make you uncomfortable-" Steve rambles.

" Steve. " I try to interrupt.

" It's just been something I've struggled with for years and fuck, I don't want to keep it from you. Not when we could potentially be something more. I mean - "

" Steve. " I try a little more forcefully.

Steve's clearly stuck in his head because he doesn't seem to hear me.

"-I just don't want to have any regrets. Especially about you-"

" Fucking hell. Steve Harrington, I need you to shut the fuck up for a second. " I say louder, attracting the attention from an older couple nearby. " Sorry. "

Steve looks at me with wide eyes, clearly not expecting my reaction.

" Let me talk. Please. " I look into his eyes, excitement bubbling in my chest. " I like you to. Fuck, I never thought this would happen. "

Steve breaks into a wide grin. His shoulders relax and he seems less tense. " You do? "

I laugh slightly. " I mean, yeah. You're funny, you're talented, you're nice. You're the whole package. Steve, you're one of the kindest people I know. It's hard not to like you. "

" Oh my...thank god. I was so nervous you weren't going to feel the same. " Steve leans back into the booth seat he's in across from me.

" Me too. "

Today really has to be a dream.

" So...do you want to be my partner? " Steve asks, his gaze holding mine.

I smile. " I'd love to. "

Senior Year - 1984

" I'll see you after class? " Steve grins at me. He pushes away from the lockers he was leaning on.

" Of course. I'll meet you at your car. "

I watch as Steve walks away. He's immediately swallowed up by the crowd.

Thing's have been pretty good. Ever since we started going steady, things have been really nice. Of course, some people in the school don't really approve. It's hard to ignore sometimes but we try. Not everyone agrees that Steve should date someone like me.

It hurts.

But what's important is that we're still together. Despite the shit people say, we're trying.

Sometimes I can see it gets to Steve. He's lost a bit of respect. It's so fucking stupid. I don't understand why people think it's so important for him to date a certain type of person.

Sometimes I feel guilty for us dating. Sometimes his teammates can be dicks. They don't see what he sees in me.

It doesn't matter. As long as we're both happy, that's what's important.

++++++

" Look, we need to talk. "

Those are the first words I hear when I get into Steve's car. His jaw is tight. He avoids looking at me.

" Oh, yeah. What's up? " I ask, confused about what's going on. " Are you alright? You look tense. Did something happen in fifth period? "

" We need to break up. " Steve blurts out. He still avoids my gaze.

My eyes widen. " What? What's going on? Steve, look at me? "

" I'm done, Y/N. I need out of this relationship. "

What the fuck happened? We were fine literally an hour ago. What the fuck is going on?

" Why? Steve, what the fuck are you talking about? "

I feel my heart begin to break at his words.

Steve shakes his head. " I just-look, you're a nice girl, Y/N. But...I can't date you anymore. " His voice waivers slightly.

" Steve, what did I do? " My voice crackles. I feel tears prick at the back of my eyes. " What the fuck happened? "

" We don't look good together, Y/N. "

His excuse is fucking stupid.

" Since when have you cared about what other people think? Why now? "

Steve swallows harshly. " It's different now...I...you...we can't do this. You hear what they say about us, Y/N, don't you? What they say about you? "

Anger begins to bubble inside of me. This is what it's about. " It's me. You're embarrassed of me. " I'm silent for a second, trying not to let the tears come out. " Fuck you, Steve. "

Finally Steve looks up at me, hurt flashing over his face.

" You're an asshole, you know that? Since when have you given a fuck about someone elses' opinion? You're really doing this because of what other people have said? You're just like fucking Tommy, you know that? Like all of the other shallow assholes going to our school. " I open my door. " I hope you're happy. You'll finally get your spot as King of Hawkins back. I wish I'd never met you, Steve. "

" Y/N-" Steve begins, his arm reaching towards me. " I'm sorry- "

" Fuck you. " I slam his door, rushing away from his car. I hear a snicker as I walk past a few of the cars. Tommy and Carol whisper to each other, their harsh gazes glaring holes into my frame.

Steve's always had a bit of a reputation for being a dick to certain people. He's had a bit of a bullying streak. I thought that shit was over. I thought he'd grown out of it, I mean he was never mean to me.

I was wrong.

+++++++

Two days later he started dating Nancy Wheeler and I quit being a manager for the basketball team.

Fuck you Steve Harrington.

[glorysbox]

your writing is so good??? how!!! i’m not sure how specific is too specific, but i would absolutely love to see your take on a nsfw one shot about reader who was recently broken up with and got super used to her ex bf being super selfish and stuff during sex and somehow that comes up with your friend Leon and he offers to show you how sweet sex can actually be with someone who actually cares about your enjoyment!!!

leon x afab!reader (female pronouns)

wc: 2.2k

warnings: explicitly 18+, college aged reader + leon, established friendship, pining from leon, leon is a lil jelly, oral (f-receiving), dialogue heavy

Your best friend, Leon, is a sweetheart. No matter what it is that you're going through, he's always there for you.

That extends to this very moment—where the both of you are sat on the couch of your one-person dorm, watching TV in attempt to drown the stinging feeling of your breakup. Or... trying to, at least. In reality, you've been venting to him about the sorry state of your now failed relationship. You have all of his attention, of course. You always do.

"I should've listened to you the first time," You mumble, head resting on the shoulder of your best friend, tone laced with sadness. Leon's warmth is comforting, a welcome reprieve to the icebox that is your dorm. "You were right. He was a jerk. A selfish jerk."

"Selfish?" He wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer. His chest is just as, if not more comfortable than his shoulder. You take the opportunity to shift closer to him, settling yourself in his arms... just like old times, really. He's lucky his hair covers the bright red of his ears at the feeling of you sitting on his lap. "L—like... how?"

"He was just... selfish," You mutter, sniffling for a few moments as you absentmindedly toy with the hem of his shirt. "It was always about him. He never bought me anything or made me feel special or..." He notes the way you trail off, icy blue eyes trained on the pretty features of your face as his heart squeezes at the sight of your frown. He really did try to tell you... he also wanted to tell you that you could do so much better with him.

"Or?"

"He never..." You pause for a moment, gnawing on your bottom lip in attempt to find a tactful way to tell Leon the truth. He's your best friend, though. You can tell him anything, right?

"Never...?"

"... you know. When we were... together, he never really... took care of me. Helped me," Your voice drops in volume. "finish."

"Oh."

There's silence for what feels like forever. With your head leaning on his chest, you can feel his heart rate picking up—matching the pace of your own heart. Leon is having an internal conflict right now. His mind feels fuzzy, his hands are clammy—and most importantly, he's as hard as a rock in his red-and-black checkered pajama pants. Go for it, He tells himself, The worst she could say is no. Be a man.

"S—so you've never..." He swallows, Adam's Apple visibly bobbing. "He never, uh... got you to cum?"

"I feel like you're making fun of me."

"No! No. I'm not, I swear. I was just asking. Well, I wanted to know because—well, I..." Leon swallows again, face turning red, as his eyes dart across your room. Posters, the TV, your bed, anything that's not your face. "I—I just... you know. I'm not selfish."

"...what is that supposed to mean?"

"I just... I know he was your first, and everything, but..." He wishes he was your first. "You know, sex isn't all selfish. I could, uh... show you, maybe—you don't have to say yes or anything. Just... letting you know that the option is there."

"O—oh..." The air of the dorm room is suddenly uncomfortably stuffy at Leon's offer—you find yourself no longer nervously playing with his shirt, instead playing with your own hands. He thinks it's cute. Not like he'd say that, though—in his mind, he's already fucked up too much.

"Just.... just forget it. Forget I said anything. Uh... sorry," Leon swallows again—a nervous tick of his—as he avoids your gaze after the nervous stuttered words fall from his lips. His mind is racing now—Was this a mistake? She doesn't even see me that way, does she? Did I just fuck up our friendship?

"No! No—it's okay. I'm not... mad or anything." You still avoid his gaze, face disturbingly hot at the prospect of your best friend since forever making you cum. "Um, actually..."

"Yeah?" It's hard to not notice the way he instantly perks up at your response—blue eyes widening and trained on you and facial expression akin to an excited puppy.

"... it... won't change anything between us, right? Because I—"

"No! No, it won't. I swear... it can be a one and done type thing. Just... I can help show you how it's supposed to be done...?" Leon doesn't even really sound sure of himself. He can't even really think, actually—his cock is throbbing so hard that his mind is all jumbled. All he can think about is how you'd look under those clothes. Deep down, though, he really does just want to make you happy. He loves you, after all. As a friend. "Yeah."

You'd be lying if you said your panties weren't soaked through right now.

"Okay... well... show me..." And Leon wastes no time reaching for you, shuffling so that you're situated under him on the couch. His hands tug at the thick material of the sweatshirt you're wearing—his sweatshirt. He makes quick work of it, pulling it over your head and tossing it on the arm of the couch. Big hands run up and down your body, taking a moment to savor the softness of your skin. Something he's wanted to do for a long, long time. He pauses, looking you in the eyes. You feel vulnerable under his gaze.

"Just... tell me if I'm making you uncomfortable in any way. We could stop." His hands, then, continue to feel along your body. Leon hesitates for a few moments—but you feel his hands ghosting along the skin of your breasts. He's gentle. He always is with you. "Can I?"

He waits patiently, focusing on the expressions of your face, hands pressed on your ribcage. He's handsome like this, you realize. Leon was always handsome to you—and everyone else—but to see his face flushed, pupils blown, and lip red and bitten for you is... something else. You nod, and Leon takes the opportunity to give your breasts a tight squeeze. Another thing he's wanted to do to you for a long time.

"You're beautiful," He comments, absentmindedly, hand traveling to the hem of your matching blue-and-black checkered pajama pants. He fiddles with the hem of it, half teasing and half awkward fumbling. It's not long before he's pulled them out from under you, tossing them across the room in a subdued fervor. "That guy is really missing out."

"You—" A gasp slips from your lips as you can feel Leon's finger gliding along the cloth of your panties—light in pressure as he drags it down from your clit to the hole. "D—don't have to... bring him up."

"I want to," He leans forward, lips pressing on your own with certain softness. His lips are cool as they meet yours, and they taste like ice cream. You're sure yours do too, considering the fact that you were both drowning in it just a few moments ago and watching a movie that's long been forgotten. "He's a good reminder that you should listen to me more often."

You mumble a shut up that gets lost in the sea of kisses he places on your lips.

"Did he touch you like this?" Leon questions in a low tone. His finger drags over the cloth of your panties again, his eyes trained on the dark-colored wet spot that stains them. You watch him, eyes half lidded, noting the way his tongue darts out across his bottom lip with each motion he makes up and down your clothed pussy.

You nod.

"Were you wet like this for him, too?" You swear there's an undercurrent of jealousy in his tone.

You shake your head.

"Good." His tone is slightly clipped as he hooks a finger under the crotch of your panties. Once more, he drags up and down your folds—collecting the sticky slick that's seeping out of you more each minute. A needy moan slips from your lips. One that he's desperate to hear more of. His free hand pulls on the hem of your panties, slipping them out from under you.

"C'mere." He mutters, gripping the underside of your ass to pull you further on your back. Leon drags you closer to him, hands resting on the skin of your hips as he lowers himself down.

It takes a few moments in your horny-induced brain fog to realize that he's about to eat you out—the only thing snapping your mind out of it is the feeling of his cool breath fanning on your folds. You grab his hair quickly, stopping him from dipping into uncharted territory.

He hates to admit that he might've whimpered a little at the feeling.

"H—hey... Leon, you don't have to... I—I mean, it's... embarrassing—can't you just finger me or something?" You question, voice meek and legs threatening to close at the sudden wave of nervousness washes over you. You trust Leon. With your life... but still. Being this exposed...

"Embarrassing?" He questions, hands gripped around your thighs to prevent them from closing any further. One eyebrow of his is raised. "It's not embarrassing. You're hot."

"That's—" You pinch the bridge of your nose. "I'm just... he never—"

"I thought you didn't want to bring him up anymore." It's hard to miss the hunger that burns in his gaze, evident in the way he looks at you. You think maybe, just this once, it won't be so bad to let Leon be right for once. Loosening your grip on his hair, you very slowly and hesitantly open your legs for him once more.

He settles, bringing his head further in the valley between your thighs. Leon even goes as far as to pepper kisses along the soft skin of your inner thigh—which only makes your hips uncontrollably squirm at the feeling of him teasing you. You don't even realize the way you're holding your breath.

"So pretty," He mutters again. Your face only just feels hotter at this—not even from the fact that his face is buried in between your thighs, but from the genuine way that he's complimenting you. You're aching, by now—your arousal leaving little trails where it drips down onto the couch. "I'm the only one that can do this to you."

You mean to question what he means by that, but the words escape you at the feeling of his tongue dragging along your slick folds. The words you want to say come out as a whiny moan—something you would've been far more embarrassed about if you were cognizant right now. You're not. Too focused on the feeling of his tongue languidly working over your folds; collecting the wetness that now dribbles down his chin. Your hand unconsciously reaches for his hair again, tangling in the dirty-blonde locks as an anchor.

Leon's tongue laps at you, prodding at your needy hole—lips wrapping around the bud of your clit and sucking lightly. His fingers are dug into the meat of your ass, keeping you in place—pulling you closer as he drowns himself in your pussy.

There's nothing that compares to this, truly. The feeling of Leon's tongue on yours, the sight of him in between your thighs, the eye contact you make with his eyes half lidded and pupils dangerously blown.

His tongue is merciless against you, breaching the tightness of your hole one time too many; your hips bucking against his face and moans freely falling from your lips at the sensation. Your best friend is really, really good at this. Of course he is. He's only imagined doing this to you about a thousand times.

"L—Leon, I can't—feels good, 'm gonna—" Each thought is cut off by another, your hips writhing under him with no escape. You're hovering on the edge of something, vision going spotty and body trembling and shuddering on it's own. The taut grip of your fingers tighten in his dirty brown strands—earning an especially hard suck from his lips to your clit. Leon's motions grow needier, tongue rubbing sloppy circles on your clit as your thighs clamp around his head. He's not even using his fingers and you're this close to cumming. It's too much.

It's not even been five minutes, and you're already tugging on Leon's hair as you cum on his face. Pulling him closer; pushing him away—you don't know what you want. You can't think—the feeling of your aching pussy throbbing too much as it clenches around nothingness and spasms on his tongue. You cum hard, and it washes over you in waves. You moan something that sounds similar to his name and an oh god please—unintelligible as his hands dig into the fat of your ass.

Leon laps at your folds through your orgasm, desperate to collect any of your slick arousal left. It's only a few moments after that you're really pushing him from the place between your legs.

"You're..." He's dazed. His face is covered in your wetness—his tongue darting out to collect what's left on his lips. "You taste amazing." He really wants to tell you that he'd live in between your thighs if you'd let him... but for now, Leon decides to take it slowly.

And you? You've forgotten all about your ex-boyfriend.

[toruro]

hhu + you being jealous

tags/warnings: jealousy, sexual content (mostly non-explicit), oral (both m and f receiving), light angst (it's resolved)

w/c: 3.8k

seungcheol

he's just so hot and so charming that you can't even get mad at him when you see one of the girls at this party you're at come just a little too close, bat her eyelashes just a little too much, laugh just a little too hard. cheol may not notice anything wrong with it but you're a girl and you definitely do, sending death glares from across the room. cheol isn't looking your way right now—you know it's because he's talking to a group of people but one of the people happens to be her—and you're suddenly overwhelmed with a nasty feeling in your stomach.you aren't sure if you want to go up to him and kiss him smack on the lips in front of everyone or resort to ignoring him for the rest of the night (you know it's not technically his fault but you're in a bratty mood and the scene in front of you makes you want to burst into tears). jealousy coursing through your veins, you choose the latter. you don't look his way (although it is very hard with the way he looks so good tonight), you don't go up to him—frankly, you don't do anything. you're left alone for your jealousy to bubble up in it's own isolation, morphing into some kind of ugly sadness that's lingering in you when you come to notice that yes you haven't gone up to cheol in the past half hour but he also hasn't come up to you either.

eventually you'll end up on the sofa leaning into one of your girl friend's arm, finding solace in a person who you wished was cheol. that's when he'll come up to you (fucking finally!) with concerned eyes, "you wanna go?" he'll ask softly and for a moment you almost cave—almost. that's when you hear that girl's name (what's her fucking name...jiwoon?) calling for him, asking him when he'll be back. when cheol just calls back, "one minute," all traces of your forgiveness wither away. one second you were about to take his hand and ditch this party, but the next second you're sinking back into the arms of your friend, shaking your head. "go" you try to come off as cool but the venom is seeping through and cheol gives That Look. "baby—" you'd cross your arms over your shoulder, closing him off. "no," you say with a shrug, "go." he'd sigh, shoving his hands in his pocket, "i don't wanna stay if something's bothering you." you'd think this is your chance (about time!), "then we should've left an hour ago." he's giving you That Look again but you think you've suffered enough tonight—you won't relent. "what's that supposed to mean?" you feel slightly guilty when he says that because you know he's being genuine but you've been too upset for too long. "dunno..." your voice would trail off while you pretend to examine your nails, "maybe you should as jiwoon." he'd give you That Look times ten. "baby—" you shake your head, putting your hand up nonchalantly. "no, i don't care," you tell him, looking over at her. "you should go, she's calling you."

cheol would have his hands fisted at his sides, contemplating if he should be angry about you being so petty or upset with himself for neglecting your feelings. he'd try to get you to leave the party but it seems like you have your mind set. he'd try one more time: "no, we're going." you'd scoff at him—holy shit you scoffed at him! "no we are not," you'd shoot back, but this is when you start to feel your resolve crumble. the emotions you've been feeling for the past hour are catching up to you at record speed and having cheol stand in front of you and not sitting by your side is enough to have the familiar, stinging knot tie up in your throat. "okay fine," he'd reply, turning on his heel so fast that it'd have you spinning and reaching out to grab the hem of his jacket before he gets too far away. you won't meet his eye when he turns around, looking at the ground when you speak, "fine, let's go." you're barely audible but cheol would get the message, locking his fingers with yours to pull you up and out of this house. you won't say anything as he leads you outside and into the car, and cheol doesn't speak either as he climbs into the drivers seat. his expression would be unreadable, making the sinking feeling in your stomach plummet even further.

"i wasn't flirting with jiwoon," cheol says after a few minutes of silence, eyes still on the road. you don't say anything for a few seconds, arms crossed over your chest as you look out the window, tears threatening to spill. "well she was," you finally would shoot back, slumping further into your seat. your voice would come out wobbly and you can only pray that cheol doesn't noti—"don't cry, please," he murmurs, reaching a hand out to rest on your thigh. "we were supposed to have fun tonight." you'd think that if he's already caught you there's no point in hiding it, letting your tears fall onto your thighs with some landing on cheol. "seems like you were having the time of your fucking life," you murmur, not daring to look at him. "you know i wasn't," he says, and you reply almost immediately. "then why didn't you come to me?" you cry out, the silent tears gushing out now, not realizing that you've reached the parking lot of your guys' apartment complex. once he's parked, cheol would look over you with a frown, cupping your face with the hand that wasn't on your thigh. "baby, you were with your friends and i was with my friends and jiwoon just happened to be there, i swear i didn't even talk to her that much. if i had known you didn't like it then i wouldn't have done it." he'd wipe away your tears and honestly, him saying that would be enough to wash way your sadness too. "i know," you'd mumble, looking off into the distance. "then why're you so upset baby?" your cheeks would be on fire at the question, suddenly embarrassed by your brash actions. "she made me really mad, cheol," you would confess finally meeting his gaze, not missing the playful glint in his eyes as he plants a kiss on your forehead. "you have nothing to worry about baby, i love you so much, you know that." you unbuckle your seatbelt after that, moving to exit the car along with cheol, a small grin creeping its way onto your face. "maybe you'll have to just how much."

it's no question he basically fucked you into the mattress that night. considering your "party night" got cut early, you both had to make up for it somehow. usually cheol would be a bit of a mean dom, definitely into the idea of 'punishing' you for being bratty but after seeing and feeling your tears, he doesn't have the heart to do anything when this was pretty much his fault. definitely has you cumming at least three to four times, making sure that you understand just how much he loves you.

wonwoo

you wouldn’t know what exactly you’d had in mind for this dinner out with your and wonwoo’s friends, but it definitely wouldn’t be this. if anything, you’re friend(?) coming up to you with a smirk saying, “when did wonwoo get so hot?” would be the last thing you expect. you’d just furrow your eyebrows, shrugging off the comment as the familiar, nasty knot pools at the bottom of your stomach. trying your best to brush off both your feelings and jiwoon’s statement, which you try to justify as an ill-placed but not ill-intentioned comment, you scoot a little closer to wonwoo’s side in the restaurant booth while the ten of you get settled in. he’d wrap an arm around your shoulder instinctively, but if you’re being honest, it does little to quell the cold feeling that comes over you when you watch jiwoon glance over at your boyfriend definitely more than once or twice. you wouldn’t want to bring it up with wonwoo, at least not right now—it’s a nice night and he’s enjoying himself, and you’d be a fool to let a little jealousy try and take that away from him.

of course, a little jealousy turns into a lot and you grow increasingly quiet as the night progresses, eventually causing your boyfriend’s worried eyes to fall on your figure next to him. eyes boring into yours when you catch him staring, you quickly try to turn away before he speaks. “everything okay?” he asks quietly as the rest are eating and continuing the conversation. the grimace on your face is more than apparent—you’d be stupid to try and convince him that there’s nothing bothering you. still, you’re a bit…frustrated. jiwoon has been making off hand remarks the entire night—things like, “wow wonwoo, i didn’t know you were such a gentleman,” or “wow, you must be so lucky to have wonwoo”—and you’re slightly (very) annoyed that wonwoo hasn’t picked up on her not-so-subtle hints yet. maybe it’s the pettiness coming out—no, it definitely is. “nothing,” you’d say in response, giving him a nonchalant shrug which, despite your words, is intended to give him the message that ‘there’s something wrong but i’m going to be a brat and not tell you.’ message received, you’d think when you see the look on wonwoo’s harden slightly. “so are you going to tell me or not,” he retorts. you turn away from him, leaning forward to take a bite out of your meal. “dunno,” you’d murmur with a shrug. you can tell he’s tense next to you but you wouldn’t do anything, hoping it would give him the encouragement to figure it out on his own.

wonwoo would be pissed. he wouldn’t really know what’s got you in this sour but he knows that you only ever be bratty like this when it has something to do with him—any other case and you’d be clinging by his side and pretty much begging for his comfort and attention. he would try to retrace the events of the night, thinking of all the things he said and did to you trying to place where he went wrong. the whole situation only really clicks for him when he catches you glaring hard at jiwoon—well not really. it doesn't make perfect sense to him yet, but when he says something and catches jiwoon looking at him in some sort of way, that's when it fully clicks. wonwoo would be a bit...endeared actually. i feel like he'd love the idea that you love him enough to be so jealous and petty over a girl he couldn't give two flying fucks about, but he also knows that this isn't the time to joke around. you're obviously upset and trying to be stubborn and that is arguably one of the hardest things to deal with. you're pretty much silent for the rest of the night, hardly contributing the the conversation and wonwoo really wants to leave now knowing that you aren't having a good time, but he also knows that you wouldn't want to make a scene or anything by leaving early, so he just settles for keeping a hand on your thigh for the rest of the meal before he excuses the both of you and basically drags you by the wrist to take you home.

you'd still be silent on the way to the car, letting out a small huff as you'd cross your arms over your chest after putting on your seatbelt. after wonwoo starts the engine, he'd look over you with That Look. "baby," he'd say somewhat sternly. you'd look out the window, thinking of things to say. "i hate you," you'd say finally and you don't miss the way wonwoo grips the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles are bright white. "for looking so good," you'd add to clarify, sinking into your seat with embarrassment. whatever traces of anger that stemmed from your jealousy withered away, leaving you in a rather pouty and sulky state instead. wonwoo chuckles softly, "jealous much?" you'd frown, finally meeting his gaze so you could confide. "you know what jiwoon said to me?!" you whine. he raises a brow at you at the red light, encouraging you to go on. "she said 'when did wonwoo get so hot?' what the fuck! who says that? especially to his girlfriend?!" you start complaining, throwing your hands in the air out of frustration. "and she kept on looking at you, like who does she think she is? i swear to god if i ever fucking see her again i'll—" wonwoo laughs and puts his hand on your thigh, squeezing tightly to shut you up. "baby," he'll say sternly again. "you know you're the only one i love, right? i don't care about jiwoon." you pout. "okay? that won't stop her from caring about you!" wonwoo laughs again at your outrage, and although you're still a little bit upset, you can feel the irritation you once felt fading away, morphing into a more playful sort of feeling.

when you guys get home, wonwoo would waste no time throwing you onto the bed and eating you out until you're in tears and SUPER sensitive. his excuse would be something along the lines of how your brattiness distracted him from dinner, so you should give him a second meal agagaga something cheesy like that.

mingyu

i feel like mingyu would be the type to get jealous easily which means that he definitely knows the signs from the very start, from the way you're huffing with every word you say, your arms crossed over your shoulders, and shooting not-so-subtle glares. he'd honestly find it really...cute. you, on the other hand, would be fuming. you hate the way jiwoon is looking at your boyfriend even though you know she knows he's taken. you catch the way mingyu's looking at you and you would know that he sees your jealousy, but something inside of bubbles up in anger at the way he's...not really doing anything about it. okay, it isn't as if he's flirting back with jiwoon, and he's hardly looking at her, but you would just wish that he'd do something. you're too stubborn, and mingyu may know that you're jealous but he doesn't know that you are definitely going to drag this out. instead of clinging to his side like you usually do at parties, you huff at the sight of mingyu talking with some people (one who just so happens to be jiwoon) and turn on your heel to retreat to a different room when he's not looking.

you aren't really sure what to expect after that—you would be half hoping to just be left alone but deep down you know that you want mingyu to chase after you. to leave all those people and leave jiwoon behind. he doesn't, and you aren't sure if it's because he doesn't care (you know this isn't true, but you can't help but see this as your first option when you're so emotional) or because he's just trying to press your buttons but whatever it is it has you a mess. you lock yourself in some random bathroom after a few moments of waiting for mingyu to follow, leaning against the closed door as you try to focus on anything but the current situation. mingyu would be in the other room slightly confused. he'd see you for one moment, focus on his conversation, and then look back to find you not there. he'd know you're jealous right now but he would just think you went to go grab a snack or something for a moment, so when you don't return within a few minutes he'd have to excuse himself, worrying that maybe you were more upset than he anticipated. he'd ask around for where you were when he couldn't find you in the main rooms, one of your friends begrudgingly letting him know that you told her you were going to one of the bathrooms and hadn't been back since. after that, it takes him hardly ten seconds to find the nearest bathroom, knocking on the door asking you to let him in. mingyu won't know what he expected but it certainly wasn't you opening the door almost immediately, looking awfully tired as there was some stupid game opened up on your phone.

"what are you doing?" he'd ask, closing the door behind him as you wouldn't meet his gaze. you shrugged, bringing your phone back up to your face to finish the game, sinking to the ground. "baby, talk to me," he'd say as he crouched down to be on your level, snatching the phone out of your hands. "hey!" you'd complain, trying to reach for it fruitlessly while mingyu—fucking giant—dangled it above your head. there's a smirk toying on his lips, and you're reminded of the whole situation—the one you'd been desperately trying to avoid—all over again, this time with tears welling up in your eyes. "if you're only going to actually talk to me just to annoy me then you might as well go back to jiwoon," you'd spit out, standing up so you could leave the bathroom that had provided you more solace than your boyfriend in the past half hour. mingyu frowns deeply after that, the smirk vanishing off his face immediately as he grabbed your wrist, pulling away from the door. "i'm sorry, i didn't realize you were actually upset about," he'd murmur, pulling you into his arms, feeling more guilty than anything. "why wouldn't i be upset?" you'd shoot back, your voice wobbly, "she was basically shooting heart eyes at you and you just let her!" now mingyu would start to feel like an even bigger idiot. "i'm sorry, you're right i should have stopped her. i just thought it was cute that you were getting jealous, i didn't mean to actually make you sad," he'd ramble. "you know i love you so much—only you."

you'd be pouting right now, tears not really pouring anymore but still staining your cheek as mingyu would bring up a hand to brush them off. "i'm really sorry baby—so sorry. i didn't mean to make you cry; never wanted that." you'd let out a small huff but lean into mingyu's touch, much to his relief. after you'd murmur your quiet, "i love you," he'd be kissing you so passionately you would think you couldn't breathe. "let me," he'd gasp between kisses as he was feeling up your body and wrapping his strong arms around your thighs to lift you onto the bathroom counter, "show you how much i love you." how could you say no? he eats you out and fingers you hard in the bathroom, and you would be lying if you said you didn't moan his name extra loud when you both heard jiwoon knocking on the door, asking if mingyu was in there. safe to say she didn't bother you or mingyu once for the rest of the night—not that she'd have the chance anyways, since mingyu basically pulled you to the car after making you cum on his fingers so he could fuck you another few times at home.

vernon

vernon is interesting. it would be hard for you to get mad at him out of jealousy simply because he's very perceptive and if there's anything he hates it would be seeing you upset over something that's within his control. if he's ever in the scenario where he even thinks someone is flirting with him, or trying to make moves, he'd tell you RIGHT AWAY! like either text you or let you know personally if you are in the room with him. some things are out of his control, of course, like tonight. you were hesitant to go out with this group of friends since there would be a lot of new people that both you and vernon didn't really know. he seemed eager though, excited to try something new, so you didn't protest, going happily along with him to this day at the carnival. but currently, you were anything but happy. there's definitely a girl who's got her eyes set on vernon and no matter how much you hold his hand, how much you cling to his side, how much you try to show her that he is yours, jiwoon just doesn't fucking seem to get the message.

vernon would pick up on your sour mood right away—like i said, he's super perceptive and WILL make sure that he's doing everything he can to diffuse the situation. he'd direct the both of you away from her, although you can't help but notice how that doesn't really stop her sparring glances. "baby," he'd finally murmur to you, "let's just ignore her," he'd suggest, pulling you closer to his side (honestly, there's no way you can be mad at him in this situation). "you're right," you'd mumble in response, looking over his shoulder to catch jiwoon staring at vernon AGAIN! "fucking hell does she think i'm blind or something? i swear to god if she tries to look at you one more time i might just sock her in the face right here and now!" you whisper-yell. vernon chuckles at your heated response, pressing a kiss to your lips. "maybe you should. that would be funny," he admits. "you're cute when you're mad," he'd add too, and you wouldn't be sure if your face's burning from being jealous or from vernon's compliment. whatever it is, it has you looking away bashfully, causing vernon to laugh some more.

honestly, you won't really be mad at him BUT you would be pouty and sulky the entire day, much to vernon's amusement. when you guys finally get home, you don't even let him get to the living room before you're smashing your lips on his with a year's worth of pent up frustration. honestly, you feel bad for being a bit grumpy all day despite vernon trying to make you feel not jealous so you figure you can repay him with some really good head and let me tell you vernon LOVES head. i said it once and i'll say it again but oral is like his ambrosia and the entire time he'll be praising you so good it nearly brings you to your own release. that and you know that jiwoon would never even be able to imagine making vernon feel as good as you are right now hehe.

[deakyjoe]

Somebody’s Watching Me Part 5

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader (“Sarge”, she/her pronouns, British, backstory)

Category: slowburn coworkers to friends to lovers with grumpy x sunshine dynamic/idiots in love

Summary: Your relationship with Simon begins to blossom even further as you hang out alone for the holiday period.

Warnings: fluff, Christmas Day shenanigans, British slang/terminology, talks of bad family, the sister makes an appearance, awkward Ghost, domestic Ghost (hella domestic in this one), cursing/swearing, children (briefly), talks of scars, the mask is off

Word count: 4.1k (short, I’m sorry)

A/N: He’s so babygirl in that gif. Majority of the ideas for this chapter came to me during dinner on Christmas Day when I was wishing I was spending it with my favourite fictional masked military man instead of my family…

Part 6 available to read here

The plan had gone ahead. The stupid, silly plan that you’d let your friend convince you into. Simon was due to arrive at your place any second. Yes, that’s right. The two of you had actually decided to spend Christmas Day together. Lieutenant and Sergeant Extravaganza. It was going to be a disaster, you were convinced.

What the fuck were you thinking?

You weren’t thinking much actually as you dashed around your kitchen, trying to keep up with cooking timers and attempting to keep the place in order. You were failing at keeping it in order, your kitchen was a mess. But luckily you were pulled out of your panic by him arriving.

The door was wrenched open halfway through his knocking, startling Simon slightly but he barely showed it with the smallest raise of his eyebrows. His hand still hung in the air ready for his next knock.

"Eager." He grunted, handing you the bags he was carrying.

"You're late." You snapped as you turned away from him to walk back to the kitchen where you were cooking the biggest meal for two people ever. You were wearing an apron and some unidentifiable substance was splattered over your cheeks. You were unaware of it.

"You said ten. It's ten." He replied as he shut the door and followed you, kicking off his shoes in the process.

You dumped his bags in the corner of the room. "I said get here ten-ish. That means nine-thirty latest."

"You should've said nine-thirty then." He frowned as he picked the bags up again and set them delicately on your kitchen counter. "Watch it. Got some goods in here."

"Couldn't have said nine-thirty because then I'd look insane. Ten was bad enough. What's with all the bags?" The previous subject was dropped as you peered into the top of one of the bags in front of you. Your attention was so easily distracted.

He shrugged. "You told me to bring things."

You pouted. "I said bring potatoes and carrots."

"I did." He pulled them from the bag and set them down in front of you. Potatoes and carrots as requested. But the bags were still bulging.

"That's more than potatoes and carrots, Simon."

"A few extra vegetables maybe." He paused. "And your presents."

You perked up instantly. "You got me presents?"

"Be a bit rude of me if I spent Christmas Day here with you and didn't get you presents." He huffed, scrunching the bag shut when you attempted to peek at what he'd brought you.

You rolled your eyes at him. "No, I invited you. Besides, we didn't say we would."

He hesitated, shifting on his feet. "It's okay if you didn't get me any."

You scoffed. "As if I wouldn't get you any."

He didn't respond to that but instead pointed at his cheeks. "You've got a little something."

You rubbed at your face. "Got it?"

"No. Here, let me." He reached across and cupped your cheek in his large hand, finger swiping across the skin to remove whatever was there.

You could feel yourself burning at the touch. It was so unexpected from him. The most you'd ever gotten was the hooked pinkies at the Christmas party. Now he was touching your face? Of course you weren’t complaining, you were just surprised.

He looked as if he was going to say something else but was interrupted by your phone ringing, the vibration of it making it shift across the surface of the counter. His hand was removed quickly in the blink of an eye but you took no notice as a familiar name was flashing on the screen of your phone.

"Gonna take that?" Simon asked gruffly, his eyes on you as you stared at your phone.

"It's my sister." You mumbled, tentatively picking it up. Why was she calling you? On Christmas Day?

He leant forward next to you, looking over your shoulder. "Maybe you should answer. Confront her like you did your parents."

"I don't know if it'd be a confrontation."

Things with you sister were... ambiguous. You didn't know exactly what her opinion of you was. And you were scared to find out.

But you needed to decide because she wouldn't wait around for you to answer the phone forever. So you hit the green button and hoped for the best when her smiling face appeared on the screen. Shit, it was a FaceTime.

She gasped but didn't seem unhappy. "You picked up!"

"Uh, sure did." You sent an awkward smile back, not certain what you were supposed to say to her. "Umm... hey. How are you?"

Greetings. Small talk. Good.

"I'm good, I'm good! How are you? Merry Christmas, by the way!"

She was too enthusiastic for your taste. And that was coming from you. Simon secretly described you as the epitome of sunshine.

"Merry Christmas. I'm- I'm alright."

Simon's gaze was burning into the side of your face so you desperately tried to ignore him.

"Good! Listen-"

Oh, fuck.

"-I know you're not going to Mum and Dad's this year and I totally understand."

Did she?

"But I want to see you at some point. Before you're next called away. I haven't seen you in forever. You've got nieces and nephews to see as well." Her tone didn't change for a second and she seemed genuine. Surprising.

You blinked at her. "Uhh... okay."

"Okay? Really?" She asked and you nodded. "Great! Hang on, they want to see you. Kids!"

There was a scuffle on the other end of the line before four small faces were squished together to fit in front of the camera, including a tiny baby being held up at the back of the group.

"Say Merry Christmas to your auntie then."

"Merry Christmas!" They all chimed, minus the newborn, with sweet smiles full of missing teeth.

A lump formed in your throat at the sight of them. "Merry Christmas."

They all disappeared again before your sister was back on screen. "I tell them stories all the time about you."

"You do?"

"Of course, you're their aunt! I need their aunt in their lives even if you can't physically be here all the time-"

You cut her off. "I didn't think you wanted me to be."

She frowned at you. "Why wouldn't I want you to be?"

"Because Mum and Dad said-"

"Oh, fuck everything they say. I don't care what they think. You're my sister. That's all that matters." She glanced away from the camera. "Yes, Mummy used a bad word. No, you can't use it. Maybe when you're older. Go put your shoes on."

Tears were welling in your eyes so you blinked them back. "I still can't come over for Christmas."

"I know. And I understand why." She paused, a thoughtful look crossing her face. "You're not spending it alone, are you?"

"No, no. I'm spending it with a friend." You said, eyes flicking to the side to look at Simon who was listening and watching you intently.

"Ooh, is it the fella that Mum and Dad saw you with at the market?" Her face suddenly got closer to the camera, her voice lowering to a whisper.

"They told you about that?" You were surprised, thinking they'd keep it to themselves.

"Oh, yeah. I hoped you'd call since you were home. But then you didn't... so I figured I would."

"Thought it was best I kept my distance." You explained. "I didn't know where you stood. With me."

"Silly girl." She shook her head but moved on. "Is mystery man there? Can I see him?"

"Yes, mystery man is here. And no, you can't see him." You laughed.

"Ugh, does mystery man have a name at least?"

"Simon."

"Shit, yeah. They did say that. Also said he's your lieutenant. Is that allowed?" Her brows raised in accusation.

"We're just friends."

Just friends. Liar.

"Sure, you a-" She was cut off from a shout somewhere in the distance. "Fuck, we've got to go. Umm, promise to call me. Or text me. Whatever."

"Promise." You nodded. "Have a good time today."

"It'll be a struggle without you. Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas." You replied with one last smile before hanging up.

The two of you stood in silence for a moment after you'd set your phone down. This was the last thing you expected to happen on Christmas Day. But it wasn't unwanted. In fact, it felt rather nice.

"Are you okay?" Simon suddenly asked, not enjoying how quiet you were being.

Your head snapped to the side to look at him. "Yes, actually. Do you want to do presents now?"

"Sure, whatever you want." One side of his mouth curled up slightly. It sort of resembled a smile.

"Okay, let's do it." You skipped out of the kitchen and into the living room where you dragged a bag from behind the television and collapsed onto the sofa.

Simon followed you, falling into his seat more carefully. He had his own bag of presents for you clutched in his arms.

"Here you go." You shoved his gifts towards him, slightly nervous at what he'd think. "You can open them in any order."

"Open yours first." He said softly as your presents were placed carefully into your lap. "You have to leave the small one until last."

"Okay." You frowned at that but accepted. He had his reasonings and you'd see soon enough anyway.

You pulled the first present from the bag, it was medium sized and squishy. Nicely wrapped. Curious. When you'd unwrapped it, you were puzzled to see multiple pairs of socks. A classic Christmas gift.

"They're thermal." Simon explained hurriedly, noticing the expression on your face. "You're always complaining that your feet are cold in the field. Thought these'd help."

"Oh." You melted a little, amazed that he’d remembered. Did you really complain that much? "That's so sweet, Simon. Thank you."

He said nothing so you moved on to the next gift. This was bigger and judging by the weight and shape you could guess what it was. And you were right. A bottle of the apple juice from the farmers' market.

"You know me so well." You sighed happily, placing it to the side and making a mental note to put it in the fridge as soon as possible.

After that was an apple scented candle and a box of your favourite chocolates. How he knew about those, you had no idea as you were sure you'd never once eaten them or mentioned them in front of him. But you didn't think on it too hard.

Lastly was the smallest gift. It was thin and you found an envelope underneath the wrapping paper. Your brows furrowed in confusion. Inside the envelope was a piece of paper with an eleven digit number written on it. A phone number.

"It's my phone number." Simon said, hushed. "I thought that maybe you should have it. As we're... friends now."

You looked back up at him, eyes glassy and full of appreciation. Somehow, he knew you perfectly. And this was the best gift you ever could have asked for.

"Thank you." You said softly, sniffing as you immediately typed it into your contacts. You didn't want to risk losing it. Or risk him changing his mind and wanting to take it back.

He just nodded and reached for his own gifts and started opening them. The first was a jar of raw honey from the market. Secretly, you were so glad you hadn't run into each other there again as it would’ve spoiled the surprise of the presents.

After that was a hat, scarf and gloves.

"Because you won't buy them for yourself." You explained after he sent you an unamused look.

Then he opened the gift you were most nervous about. A double picture frame with two photographs from the Christmas party in them on either side. The first had a group shot of everyone that Simon originally didn't want to be in but reluctantly agreed to after you begged him.

"C'mon, Simon! It'll be nice!"

"Just for you, Sarge. Just for you..."

He stood in the corner behind you. And you didn't fail to notice how he wasn't looking at the camera, but instead had his eyes fixed on you.

The second was a photograph of the two of you out on the patio. One of your friends had sneakily taken it when neither of you were paying attention. Both you and Simon were looking up at the sky and your pinkies were interlocked on the wooden railing. It looked… romantic. She’d sent it to you the next day with heart emojis as a caption.

He said nothing as he stared down at it.

Biting your thumbnail anxiously, you took in a deep breath. "You don't have to put it up anywhere. I just thought... I don't know."

"No, I'll find somewhere for it. Thank you." He looked at it for a few seconds more before standing it upright on the coffee table and picking up his last gift.

A limited edition Patrick Swayze box set collection. You'd spent hours on the internet scouring for it.

And when Simon's eyes lit up you knew the time was spent well.

You started pointing at various places on the back of the box. "It comes with exclusive interviews and documentaries as well as some of his best movies. It's got Dirty Dancing, Point Break, Road House, Ghost- wait." You cut yourself off, suddenly realising something.

Simon predicted your epiphany, his face dropping into boredom. "No."

"Hang on." You ignored him, putting the pieces together.

"No." He just repeated himself, slightly firmer.

"Is your name Ghost because of Ghost?" You said, trying to stifle a giggle.

He said nothing. That was an answer in itself.

Air shot from your mouth in shock. "Oh, my god! It is!"

"It's a coincidence." His teeth were clenched.

"Totally. Patrick Swayze super fan Simon Riley is also known as Ghost. Coincidentally." You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt of an explanation. No way that it was a coincidence.

"I'm not called Ghost because of Patrick Swayze." He insisted, dropping the box set to your coffee table and sending you a death glare.

You nodded, unconvinced. "Yuh-huh. And how many times have you seen the movie?"

Shrug. "I don't know."

"A lot, right?"

Another shrug. "Yeah."

"Simon!" You cackled, struggling to breathe as a sudden laugh escaped you. "I can't believe your callsign comes from a romance movie starring Whoopi Goldberg!"

He frowned. "It doesn't."

"It so does. Do you cry during it?" Your brows raised at the idea. You couldn't picture him crying.

"No."

"How do you feel about the pottery scene?" Your tone was suggestive as you questioned his opinions on one of the most famous sexy scenes of all time.

"It's okay."

"Please! You so cry during it and love the pottery scene." You were just teasing him but the thought of it was quite amusing.

He turned away from you. "Stop it."

"I can't. This information is precious to me."

"Information you're making up." He snapped.

"I bet you know the choreography for Dirty Dancing as well." Imagine him doing the big dance number at the end...

He said nothing.

"Christ, you do." You sighed, highly thrilled with this development. "Hate to say it but I always preferred Keanu Reeves to Patrick Swayze in Point Break."

He suddenly looked at you with an expression as if you'd committed the biggest sin ever. "That's because you have no taste."

You snorted. "Says the man who doesn't like Love Actually."

"Sappy romance." He waved his hand at you.

"You like Ghost and Dirty Dancing." You deadpanned.

Correction. "I like Patrick Swayze."

Again, you laughed at him. "You're not helping your case."

He huffed. "Fine. I like some romances. Happy?"

"Very." You were grinning at him.

He paused and frowned at you. "Keanu Reeves?"

With a sigh, you shut your eyes and pictured Keanu Reeves. "He's pretty."

Simon's mind flashed back to the night of the party where you'd called him pretty in passing.

"Although, so is Patrick Swayze." You added, thinking about him and his mullet in Dirty Dancing. "Hey, do you have any pictures of you with your Patrick Swayze mullet?"

"No." He did. He was lying.

"What a shame. Would've loved to have seen." You sighed again, this time more dramatically. "Okay, come on, Simon Swayze. We've got more cooking to do."

He ignored the tingling in his stomach at being referred to as Simon Swayze. "Thought you said you had it all sorted. That you wouldn't need my help."

"Maybe I wasn't telling the truth." You brushed your hands down the front of your apron.

“Hm, you got another apron for me to wear?” He was joking but your eyes sparkled as you ran off into the kitchen so he decided to keep that to himself.

He followed you into the kitchen slowly to find you bent over and digging through a drawer. Guiltily, he averted his eyes after realising he’d been staring for a couple seconds too long.

“Aha!” You presented an apron to him with a flourish.

It was obvious just by looking at it that it’d be far too small for him. But Simon decided to just indulge you and slipped it over his head anyway.

He stuck his arms out to the sides. “How do I look?”

“Domestic. Like a housewife. Suits you.” You nodded and turned to the piles of bowls and dishes on the counter. “Can you cook?”

“I can follow instructions.”

What an interesting thought.

You snapped yourself out of it and pointed at several items, reeling off a list of things he could do to help out.

So that’s what the two of you did for the next few hours, you told him what to do and Simon did it. It was a nice change in dynamic from him usually telling you what to do as your lieutenant. And maybe the power was getting to your head a little.

“What are you doing?!”

“What you told me to do. Chopping.”

“No! I said to leave half an inch between the cuts. That’s clearly three quarters of an inch.”

“I think I know my inches, Sarge.”

You’d shut up at that comment.

And when the food was done and you’d both eaten more than you probably should have, the promise of sending Simon home with half the leftovers being sealed, you settled on the sofa to watch the two movies you’d agreed on.

It was a quick game of rock, paper, scissors to decide whose film got played first. You’d won and happily put on Love Actually with a smug grin. Little to your knowledge, Simon had lost on purpose.

You sat in silence as you watched the lives of several characters be intertwined over the Christmas period as their love lives took twists and turns.

And when it was over, you turned to your lieutenant with a curious gaze. “So?”

“Still shit.”

“Simon!” You groaned, head falling back onto the sofa. “How could you say that?”

“I don’t know what to tell you.”

“Fine, fine. Guess it’s time for Die Hard now.” You sighed and put the next movie on, kind of looking forward to it. You hadn’t seen it in years. A rewatch might be nice.

And it was. You’d forgotten how good it actually was. But when you turned to tell Simon that in the last half hour of the movie, you found him asleep. Asleep!

His head was tilted back, eyes closed, mouth slightly open and face relaxed. You giggled quietly to yourself and let the rest of the film play out.

When it was over he was still fast asleep so you placed a blanket across him and tiptoed into the kitchen, switched the radio on a low volume and started to tidy up. It took you about half an hour before everything was packed away in the fridge and all cooking equipment was piled ready to be washed.

When you turned to put something in a cupboard, Simon was stood in the doorway watching you. His eyelids were slightly hooded as he rubbed a hand across his face, hair tousled to perfection. He looked... delectable.

"How long was I out?" His voice was husky from sleep. Music to your ears.

"About an hour I think." You couldn't move your eyes away from him, completely unblinking.

He grunted lowly in the back of his throat and moved towards you. "Sorry."

"It's- it's okay." You backed yourself against the counter, wincing as the granite dug into the small of your back.

"Thanks for the blanket." He stopped short about two feet away from you. "I can't believe I fell asleep."

"You missed the end of Die Hard." You cracked a small smile, trying to distract yourself from the way he looked.

"No, I mean-" He exhaled deeply. "I haven't slept like that... in a while."

"Well, that's good then. Right? Power nap?"

"I can't sleep at home because I'm paranoid. And uncomfortable." He admitted suddenly.

"Oh." It was sad to hear that he wasn't happy in his own home. "My sofa is available any time you want to use it."

"I don't know why I fell asleep."

"Maybe you're less paranoid here because you know I'm here. Someone to back you up. Just in case. Like how you sleep better in the field?"

"Maybe." His eyes crinkled at the edges at that. "I guess I do trust you."

"You guess?"

"I do.” He corrected. “Trust that you'd not let me die say someone were to try to kill me in my sleep. Assuming that it's not you trying to kill me."

"No promises. But you're safe for now. You don't snore."

"Soap needs to watch his back then."

"He certainly does."

He suddenly noticed that your sink was full of water and suds. "Need help with that?"

"Sure. You want to wash or dry?"

"I'll wash. I'm good with a sponge."

"A sentence I never thought I'd hear you say but okay!"

He sidled up next to you and stuck his hands into the water with no hesitation.

"Aaahh! What are you doing?" You grabbed his wrists and pulled his hands from the sink, eyes wide with horror. "That's boiling water! I have gloves for you to use!"

"Can't really feel it." He looked down at his hands, now an angry pink from the heat. "It's mostly scar tissue."

You frowned at him. "You still have nerve endings and pain receptors in scar tissue."

"Not me."

You laughed sarcastically. "Oh, not you."

"Not me." He repeated.

Stubborn bastard.

"You're an idiot." You shook your head with a smile, amused by him.

"Appreciate that, Sarge." He didn't seem annoyed, however. He also seemed to find it funny.

You found a tea towel and dried his hands for him, being gentle as to not aggravate the scar tissue or poke at the burning skin more. Then you pulled the washing up gloves from the cupboard below and gave them to him.

"Now wear these."

"Yes, ma'am." He sighed but took them from you anyway, slipping them onto his large hands. They were a tight fit but they'd have to do.

The two of you stood together, you humming along to the music on the radio as you dried bowls and pots and Simon watching you from the corner of his eye as he scrubbed at plates and saucepans.

He interrupted you with a hushed mumble, almost inaudible. “Sarge?”

“Yeah?” Your humming stopped as you looked up at him.

He was hesitant before he replied. “Thank you.”

“For what?”

“Today. It’s been my nicest Christmas since… forever.” He avoided looking at you which was odd for him.

“Oh. You’re welcome.” While it made you happy that he’d had a good time, it also pained you that his previous Christmases hadn’t been as kind to him.

“I- I like spending time with you.” The statement was rushed, jaw tightened.

“I like spending time with you too.” You responded, feeling lightheaded at his confession.

He didn’t reply for a moment, just nodded at your returned sentiment. “What time do you need me to leave?”

“Whenever you want.” It was true. You weren’t planning on kicking him out any time soon, or ever. He was free to stay as long as he wanted to.

He hummed quietly.

You decided to be bold and repeat your offer from earlier in the day. "You can stay on the sofa if you want."

He appeared surprised by that but smiled. A full-blown Simon Riley smile. Glimpse of pearly white teeth and everything. You almost fainted at the sight.

"I'd like that."

But in true Ghost fashion he'd disappeared before you'd woken up the next morning.

A/N: Fun fact - I was gonna have them kiss in this chapter and then decided against it to hang out the slowburn a little longer… you’re welcome! 💀

[enviedear]

Maybe a Billy one where reader is a good Christian girl, and she goes with Billy every time he has to move etc., and he is just trying to protect her from the big bad world and disgusting people. While she is just as fiercely protective of him, but in her own way.

billy + christan!reader

request

— he'd try and keep you away from most of the danger. frequently begging you to stay put, promising to come back to you. he means it too, he couldn't imagine getting hurt and not being able to spend his life with you (ignoring the lore with my entire being rn)

"no, angel. stay right here, i swear i won't be long."

— calls you angel because you really are one in his opinion. you're too kind for the world you've brought into. always so gentle, loving, and accepting. he swears that when it's finally his time, he'll enter the pearly gates and see your pretty face.

— buys you a beautiful leather-bound bible when he's away one day and comes back with a satisfied smirk on his face. he'd insist on you reading it to him. start to finish.

you finish up the last page of book of job, smiling softly at billy, "what'd you think?" the outlaw huffs, "think poor job deserved more grace."

— makes a rule for himself to sit and pray with you in the mornings, both because he knows he's rarely ever there at night to join you and just to listen to you. he won't even really pray either, just look at you as you mutter your own.

— he'd try his hardest to keep you away from any rivals, but there are a few times they get their mangy hands on you. every time he'll raise hell and high water to get you to saftey.

"goodness billy! how many guns did you bring?" you ask, staring out at the small army of armed men on horseback. he lifts you onto his own stead, ever the gentleman, "should've brought more... kill all o'em."

— everytime he has to move, you're going with him! he lets you lead the way mostly, says your heart leads you to better places than his. he'll always get a regretful look in his eyes when he tells you that you have to make a run for it... again. he feels like shit, not being able to settle down with you like he wants.

"one day m'gonna get us our own land. just us and some animals. how's that sound, angel?" he'd grin, forehead touching yours. you'd laugh, "is that so, cowboy?"

— you'd be protective of billy just as fervently as he is with you, just a softer way. if you ride into a town that shuns him, you make it your mission to bring up the good book. how no one in this world is blameless, sinless, perfect. you'd sing his praise to anyone that'll listen. he just can't wrap his head around how genuine your love is, so unconditional.

—reblog and like if you enjoyed, let ur local writer know you like her work !

[stop-breaking-my-heart-dragonage]

I said I wasn't going to get started on the topic of Aveline ruining Carver's chances with the guard but I lied okay, it's Carver Hawke defense hours.

Here's the thing; it doesn't matter if you believe Carver was or wasn't fit for the guard. That's a different debate that I'll get to. What matters is Aveline's in no position to tell the guard not to accept his application. Why does she think that's her right to judge whether or not he's fit?

Carver should've had the chance to prove himself one way or another. If it turns out he's not a good fit, then let him fail. Let him learn from it.

"Oh but failure could mean lost lives-"

Aveline doesn't get to talk shit about failure and the people. Plenty have died on her watch yet she still believes she's a good guard and Guard-Captain.

"maybe Aveline's protecting him, Carver could die while on patrol-"

Carver could die working in the Bone Pit, or serving as a templar, or when he's running around with Hawke. Carver could trip and fall down a set of stairs and die. In fact, he can die in the Deep Roads, somewhere he wouldn't have to go if the Hawke's weren't desperate.

Either Carver fails as a guard, or more likely, he succeeds and proves himself worthy of it.

But let's be real, Carver probably kept getting rejected due to being a Fereldan with a past of smuggling/mercenary work and Aveline only reaffirmed the decision, either because they asked her what she thought or she stuck her nose in unprompted.

But what irritates me is that she admits to telling them not to accept his application, and then has the balls to call Carver too proud to take up a trade or find another line of work.

Carver tells her, "And who would take on a Fereldan apprentice? Maybe in another year I could work my way up to pissboy." He has a good point here. Aside from the guard, the only other place Carver could work and use his skillset is with the Templars. Or go back to mercenary/smuggling work.

And Aveline doesn't even have a real answer for him. No suggestions, no encouragement, nothing. Just "Fine, let's crawl down some holes. Good bloody luck for your sake."

Also, if you do the Mark of the Assassin DLC in Act 1-

Aveline: You should see if any of the noblemen are looking for new men-at-arms. Carver: Are you trying to get rid of me? Aveline: It's a role with some autonomy. A good fit with your training and... tendencies. Carver: After serving King Cailan? You want me to suffer some poncy git who needs two servants to wipe his own ass? I'll find my own way, thanks. Aveline: I wish you would.

You wish he would?? Aveline, he was trying to find his way into the guard, a position he'd make a good fit for, and you helped deny him of it because YOU didn't think he would be good enough, I just-

If I haven't made it clear yet, I firmly believe that Carver would've made a great guard. He wants to help people, to be a protector. He's loyal, and despite what Aveline claims, he can follow orders and take his duty seriously. We see him do incredibly well with the Grey Wardens, after all. If he were a guard, he wouldn't have to go down into the Deep Roads with Hawke, and I think he would've been okay with that! He's so hurt and bitter when you leave him behind because that effectively tells him, "I don't need you." Carver's spent the whole first act telling you he wants to go on the expedition aka that he wants to be needed.

But if he were a guard, he would be needed elsewhere. He'd be in training as a recruit. He'd look after Leandra while you go. He wouldn't be backed into a corner with no income and only the templars left as his chance at forging his own path and providing for his family.

He doesn't get that opportunity, though.

By the way, if he becomes a warden, you can get this banter:

Aveline: I'm glad you found a place with the Wardens. Carver: Well, it's not the city guard, but it'll do. Aveline: Carver... it wasn't the place for you. Carver: No, it's all right. It is. It cost a lot, but I get it. I really was a bit of a tit those days, wasn't I? Aveline: Well...

This banter makes me want to scream.

Aveline's just... she's so insistent that she's right. She's someone who will double down rather than entertain the idea that she's wrong and it's not just with Carver and the guard, it's with everything. The "my beef with Aveline" list gets longer and longer every time I replay da2, I swear.

Say what you will about Carver, whether you think he would've been a good fit or if Aveline's right and it wasn't for him, he was denied a chance and it cost him so much in the end. He either dies, or he joins the templars where he deals with Chantry's bullshit trying to brainwash him with "mages aren't people" and "magic is a cancer in this world", or he's infected with the blight and becomes a Grey Warden, forced to serve the rest of his life fighting darkspawn, tormented by voices and nightmares.

I will never not be bitter about this.

[restinslices]

I love your stuff so much, could you write something with the reader getting jealous about Smoke? Someone getting a bit too close to him and the reader feels bad about it. And Tomas finds out and comforts her, finding it endearing.

And I love you💕 Idk why this was kicking my ass so bad. I did two drafts and idk if I like this but this is all I got😔

Word count: 1476

Tomas was not entirely stupid. 

Sure he had moments where he'd made something that should've been simple,  incredibly complicated but he wasn't stupid. He didn't think so at least. 

Anyone who's been around him for the past week might disagree though. 

Tomas had just returned from a mission along with his brothers, and naturally he was telling you all about it. If you were being honest with yourself, you weren't really listening. Tomas tended to ramble and his missions were usually the same as the last, so it was best to let him go on and on but still add commentary here and there. “Wow”, “Really?”, “No you didn't”, and other side comments would hold him. 

Your ears perked up and you started to listen more when he started mentioning women.

It's not that he couldn't speak to other women or he couldn't have female friends, you weren't that crazy. It was just the way he was describing them. Great fighters, moving with the wind, long flowy hair that danced in the sun. It was compliment after compliment, and as much as you hated to admit it, it made your heart squeeze. 

“Wanna tell me how they all looked in detail?” You said sarcastically. You expected Tomas to hear your sarcasm, realize what was wrong, apologize and keep telling his story. Instead he just chuckled and said 

“Then we'd be here all day”. 

Unfortunately for you, the day got worse. 

Another woman whose name you hadn't memorized was all over him. Giggling at jokes that weren't nearly as funny as she pretended they are and finding any reason to touch him. 

You should've said something. You should've communicated your feelings. That's how relationships are supposed to work. 

But you didn't. 

On one hand, you thought you had every reason to be jealous and if Tomas actually cared for your feelings, then he would've picked up on this and apologized. On the other hand you thought you were being unreasonable. Tomas couldn't help if some ditzy bitch liked him. Plus, you never told him how you felt, so you couldn't be mad at him for not understanding. In the same breath though, why didn't he tell her to get off of him and why did he feel it was necessary to describe how great these other women he met were? 

You were arguing with yourself for a solid week, and each day that devil on your shoulder got louder. After all, if Tomas did care about how you felt, he'd stop entertaining that girl. Everytime she was near, you left. Didn't you absence bother him?

But once again, that damn angel got in the way telling you to just be honest with him. He'd understand. How can you be mad at something you hadn't communicated upsets you?

But communication came with shame. How would you look telling Tomas that you got a little butt hurt about him talking about other girls and a girl that kept flirting with him? He'd either understand, or he'd be upset. That's how relationships fell apart, right?

No. It was the lack of communication. 

Maybe?

“I'm gonna throw myself down the stairs” you mumbled. 

“Why?” he asked. 

You somehow forgot he was there. You and him were in charge of washing dishes for the week, but neither of you had been talking. 

“I just hate washing dishes” you said, not completely lying. 

It went silent again, the only thing filling the air being the sounds of you washing and him rinsing. 

Then that silence was broken. 

“Are you ignoring me?” he asked. You didn't know how to answer. You didn't mean to ignore him. You were just in your head a lot. 

You didn't answer and he sighed. “Did I do something?”

“No” you answered without thinking. It was a reflex at this point. Tomas over thought things a lot and you'd have to remind him not everything was on him. Telling him he wasn't at fault was natural, but you weren't sure who was at fault now. 

“I mean… I don't know. It doesn't matter”

“It does to me”

“Does it?”. 

You closed your eyes and breathed slowly. You were being way too harsh and you knew it. Tomas was asking you to share what was going on in your head, and you were saying no?

You opened your eyes again. Your mouth opened a few times, trying to figure out how to put what you were feeling but it never felt right. 

“I don't know how to get this out. It doesn't even make sense in my head. It won't make sense out loud”

“Just say it anyway and I'll ask you questions if I'm confused”. You wondered how Tomas was so good and patient and wondered if he learned that from one of his parents. Or maybe his sister. Either way, you mentally thanked whoever he learned from. 

“Ok so, I just feel- no. No, I should explain first in chronological order. You came back and then… actually that sounds really accusatory”. You groaned and looked over at him “can you just tell me to shut the fuck up”. 

He smiled a little and shook his head. “I wanna hear it. We have all day”. 

“It's late at night. That is not true”. He didn't respond and he wouldn't until you confessed whatever you were thinking. 

“Chronological order then…”, after some more stumbling and backtracking you managed to get it all out. Why you were jealous, when it started, how conflicted you felt and how ashamed you felt for being jealous in the first place. The whole time he just listened, nodded, and furrowed his brows at some parts. You couldn't tell if it was confusion or anger. 

“I didn't mean it that way” he said when you were done. “When I said 'then we’d be here all day’. I just meant there was a lot of them, which I realize now still sounds bad but I didn't mean it in some 'they were just too beautiful’ way. I didn't hear your sarcasm”

“And I just kept conversation with her to be nice. I don't know. I didn't wanna seem rude”

“Being rude can go a long way”

“I guess. And I noticed your absence, I just didn't know why. I figured you needed space for whatever reason, so I didn't bother you”

“I think it's impossible for you to bother me”. 

Once again, he smiled and let out a small laugh. You looked back down at the soapy water and that's when you felt like a complete idiot. You were worrying him when you could've been had this conversation. 

“I'm an idiot”

“I don’t think so” and you could tell by his voice that he was smirking. “I think you're just really in love with me”

“Ok buddy”. You rolled your eyes, even if he was right. 

“It's cute”

“It's embarrassing”

“Loving me or-”

“Being jealous. I haven't been that jealous before with anyone else”

“I'm not like anyone else”

“You're white. You're quite literally like everyone else-” Tomas flicked water your way, some of it getting in your eye. 

“I'm gonna kill you”

“You wouldn't. You'd get jealous over the Grim Reaper”. You frowned but he kept smiling that stupid smile that was both loving and antagonistic. Then he laughed. A nice heartfelt laugh that ended up making you crack a smile. 

“Are you smiling because I'm laughing?”

“Absolutely not”,  you lied. 

“You really got a thing for me”

“I've never met you a day in my life”

“That's even more embarrassing then if you're that in love with me”. You went to make another smart comment, but he bumped his shoulder against yours “hey”, he said softly. So soft it threw you off guard. “I think it's cute. You're like a little guard dog”. 

“Were you dropped on your head as a baby and now your social cues are scrambled? A guard dog? I'd prefer if you stabbed me. Here-”, you went to grab a knife but he caught your hand. Any other time you would've hated this. Both your hands were soaking and something about the feel of that made you skin crawl, but you guessed you could deal with that. 

“I think it's cute that you love me so much. I just wish you'd be more honest about what you feel. I was worried”. 

You cringed. You supposed that was your fault. You and your dumb brain making shit complicated, which is something you swore was more of a Tomas thing. 

“I'll be better. I promise. I'll start now”

“Now?”

“Now. The texture of you wet hand makes me wanna die. Please unhand me”. He couldn't help but laugh as he let you go, and you couldn't help but laugh as well. 

You didn't know what you were laughing at. 

You were just happy to be laughing together. 

Finally getting back to requests. The crowd goes wild. Tumblr has this big space between lines so I cannot tell if the format is weird and I should add more space or if I’m tweaking. Oh well.

[lilyslemonadestand]

Hi! Can I request tieflings with touch starved Tav? 💫

touch starved.

a/n: this probably /definitely/ should've been an actual fic. i like... mixed an actual plot with headcanons IDKKK i'm new alright. at least i finished a blog for once. pat me on the back for that! also, i've never written for any of them, so lmk if you have critiques!! AND LEAVE MORE TIEF BOYS ASK I AM OBSESSED. loved this request btw!!! hope i did it justice!

warnings: nothing this is so fluffy and innocent.

rolan.

• out of the three of the tieflings, he's definitely the most touch starved.

• i mean he's literally never been touched by anyone besides his siblings, and that's mostly just them smacking him.

• after a long day of getting your ass kicked /and maybe accidentally walking into your own moonbeam once/ you decided to visit sorcerer sundries alone to check up on your old friend.

• evidently, rolan had a equally horrible day. well, it was the same as usual, but rolan was more bitchy.

• when he saw you though, all of his irritation and annoyance flooded from his body, and it seemed like he completely lit up.

• "new bruise?" she asked, watching as the corner of his lips turned upwards. a genuine, non-snarky smile was rare from rolan. he rolled his amber eyes at you, nodding regardless.

• "new scar on your nose, hm?" rolan retorted, and your hand went up to rub at the bridge of your nose. you hadn't even realized that you'd been bleeding there. huh. at least it'd be a cool place for a scar.

• before either of you realized it, rolan's hands were clasped around one of yours, his thumb rubbing circles onto your palm. you froze. who even knew how long it'd been since you'd been touched like that--- if ever. even gale brushing shoulders with you made you tense up, let alone a touch by a really cute tiefling.

• he notices your reaction and can't help but laugh, making the tip of your ears flush pink, and you glared at him. rolan's freckled cheeks are just as warm as yours.

• "i've been worried about you, you know." he blurts out, and for a second he pictured cal and lia teasing him for hours on end. they all knew he liked tav, and had ever sense their brief encounter at the grove, her fierceness leaving him staring with wide eyes and a blushed face. ever since then, they never shut up about his little crush.

• "i know." you whispered, and you finally relaxed into his touch. rolan kept looking down at your shared hands. "but i'm not the one with fresh bruises."

• rolan clicked his tongue in annoyance, wishing he wasn't completely marked up by lorroakan, but he had no say in the matter. he figured you knew why he had these marks.

• "lorroakan isn't the best teacher in the world, i'll admit. don't worry about me though." rolan grumbled out. ah yes, this tone was the rolan she remembered. the grumpy one.

• your hands move to tuck a piece of hair behind his ears before brushing your knuckles gently across the fresh bruise on his jaw. rolan turned his gaze to the ground, and you heard him whining out some form of insult as your hand grazed his skin.

• "your skin's warm," you mumble regardless. "i could always kill him, y'know. well, i'm going to anyway. but i could speed it for you. and uhm--- i know a pretty decent wizard. gale, the one you met? much better than that asshole. he'd love to train you." you slightly ramble, and rolan watches as you fidget with your left hand, so he squeezes it gently. "i mean, i'd like you to... join too."

• "thank you, tav. i'll think about it." rolan's already made up his mind. he'd work for anyone as long as it wasn't lorroakan. he pressed a few kisses along your knuckles before dropping your hand.

• rolan can guess by the way you react to his touch that you're as touch starved as him and after that, it basically becomes a competition to see who can fluster each other more. /he does not win./

dammon.

• dammon is naturally very touchy. he talks with his hands and with his tail, so usually one of two will end up on the friends he talks to.

• with you, he's a little more shy, though. more careful, one could say. anytime you spoke, his sharp blue eyes were on yours, and he concentrated more on making sure he wasn't practically wagging his damn tail at you.

• today, you had your arms folded as you sat on one of the crates in the corner of his forge. dammon was finishing up a dagger for you, /his work too heavy for your liking, but you needed an excuse to talk to him, so you'd give them to astarion/ and you had been talking his ear off about your latest adventure.

• dammon didn't mind at all, humming in acknowledgement while he finished wiping the oil off of the blade.

• "here. crafted with love and care." the teifling teased, handing you your new weapon to inspect. and it was beautiful, perhaps one of the finest daggers you'd seen, with a lovely intricate design. dammon had made you plenty before, but each weapon and armor was just as beautiful. your eyes marveled at it, smiling before rummaging around your belt for your bag of coins.

• "it's lovely as always, dammon. thank you!" you beamed and you noticed his tail flicker from behind him. "and how much do i owe you again?"

• "you brought all the material's, my friend. and you brought me company today. how about you let me take you for a walk and we call it even?"

• his words felt like he'd just asked you on a date, but you jumped up from your place on the box, nodding enthusiastically.

• the heart of baldur's gate was much more relaxing in the evening. it wasn't god awfully hot, and the sky muted to a warm fuschia. and you couldn't help but admire the way dammon looked with his work sleeves rolled up, a content smile on his face as he led you through the streets.

•honestly, it was obvious to everyone besides you two that you two liked each other. dammon was oblivious, and, well... you just figured it wasn't safe enough to get into a relationship.

• little did you know, someone named karlach accidentally shared to dammon that you may have a thing for him.

• "so... are you going to continue that story about wyll?" dammon asked sweetly and you felt his tail move up towards the small of your back. like he was holding it while you two walked. at first you tried to ignore it, but the small act of touch made your face heat up.

• dammon must have noticed because he dropped his tail, instead moving to intertwine your fingers together.

• thankfully, the story of wyll was too good to keep quiet, so you were able to lean into his touch, dammon's eyes twinkling as you started to ramble on.

• also, once dammon notices just how touch starved you are, he will literally not be able to keep his hands off of you.

• massages, hand holding, wrapping his tail around your calf, rustling your hair when you say something silly--- definitely the touchiest out of the three.

zevlor.

• zevlor is also extremely touch starved, maybe more than rolan, he's just not as obvious. unlike the two younger boys, he feels like he's too old for feelings, especially for warriors like yourself.

• and unlike the two younger boys, zevlor's much better at hiding his feelings. his tail doesn't swing behind him, he doesn't flush like rolan, and he doesn't really speak on feelings like dammon.

• zevlor does admire you though, that much is obvious from his flaming rust eyes watching you carefully as you sneaked from conversation to conversation. you were strong and a leader just like him. it made you two have a lot in common.

• zevlor was tense when you approached him. most of the younger tieflings were laughing away, dancing even, all drunk as can be. the paladin had a chalice of wine in his hand, shoved forcefully by a certain large druid, but he had not yet even taken a sip. how could he? he had much on his mind.

• "drinking tonight?" you asked brightly, your smile enticing as you peered up at him while taking a swig of your own wine. your nose scrunched in disgust at the taste; tiefling wine wasn't most people's preferred choice for alcohol.

• zevlor chuckled and shook his head, tilting his glass slightly, so she could see that it was still full.

• "i've got too much to deal with--- tomorrow's trek will not be a simple task, tav." zevlor replied, setting down the glass on the table next to them.

• you frowned. that couldn't do. if you could relax, so could he. even leaders deserve their chance to have fun.

• "you deserve one good night of fun before tomorrow." you smiled. the teifling nodded his head slowly, tiredly rubbing his eyes.

• "that'd be nice... if i'm being honest. i just can't let them down." he mumbled, the stress from the journey showing in his face.

• "and look around zev. they're all drunk anyways. nobodies watching you tonight, so just relax."

• you were right. nobody was looking at either of them. most were drunk, and the ones that weren't were chatting away with halsin. it didn't take long for a small smile to creep up to his mouth. zevlor took the cup from her, and took a drink out of it. he mirrored her nose scrunch. wow. it really was cheap wine.

• with a fleeting moment of confidence, /or alcohol/ zevlor pulled you into a hug. at first, you didn't hug back. you were shocked. you hadn't had a hug in... what? weeks? months? years? and clearly, he hadn't either. you both seemed to really have needed it, too, because you instantly melted into his arms, and his grip only tightened. you could hear his heart thumping against his chest. yours was equally loud.

• "you've done great by them. i know you'll keep them safe. but in the meantime, you need to take care of yourself too."

• zevlor laughed against your hair, your encouraging words enough to make the old paladin's eyes water. he hadn't heard words as soft as yours in a very, very long time. and it was enough to keep him going.

• he wiped the forming tears quickly away with his sleeve, not wanting to burden you any further with his emotions.

• from then on, zevlor is very comfortable hugging you. whenever he sees you, whether it's in the mind flayer colony, in baldur's gate, or anywhere else, be prepared for a very bone crushing hug. when he feels fancy, he'll even spin you a little.

• all of his touch is very polite and romantic. you both deserve and need it.

[creedslove]

BETRAYED - PART SIX

Pedro Pascal x f!reader

Summary: Pedro invites you to be his plus one for the night but his attention is caught by another woman and leaves you with a broken heart

Warnings: angst, age gap, established friendship, unrequited love/one sided feelings, fluff, glimpse of Pedro being a great (silly) dad, and more angst of course

A/N: I have no idea how you guys are gonna react. I hope you guys like it, because I was very invested and loved writing every single part of this chapter. Don't forget that all ideas and suggestions are more than welcome ❤️

I still can't manually tag people on the works because I use the app and it won't let me do it, that's why I don't have a tag list at all! 

3k words

PART ONE | PART TWO | PART THREE | PART FOUR | PART FIVE

"You did WHAT?" Kate raised her voice without really meaning to, at the shocking news you'd told her. She couldn't believe just a few feet away from where everyone stood, hidden by a couple of trees Pedro had declared his love for you and kissed you.

And the most shocking to her: you had told him to walk away. She was shocked and expressive at first and then she went silent as you finished your account of what had happened. You told her about Pedro's apologies, about how he confessed his feelings and kissed you. And above all, how it took every ounce of strength and self-control to break that kiss.

"And then, what happened next?" She asked with fire in her eyes, anticipation making her anxious and excited to know, which caused you to roll your eyes

"What do you think happened, Kate? You think we just had a quickie in the middle of the bushes?" You groaned and sighed "he walked away, he came back inside, probably went home, I don't know, I came straight to the kitchen to help you" you shrugged. Your heart was still pounding and it felt like it would burst out of your chest at any moment. But that was not the only thing Pedro messed up in your body, you hated yourself to know your lower belly burned in need at the mere memory of his touch, of how warm his body was against yours, how his lips fell perfectly against yours. You hated the fact your arousal pooled in your underwear, every step you took you could feel it and it was a reminder of how he still had power over you, like no other man ever had and you doubted any other man ever would.

Pedro, on the other hand, should've been home at least an hour prior. He was so ashamed of himself for locking himself in the bathroom after what happened, he felt as if he was back in junior high, hiding away after being dumped by the girl he liked.

He stared into his own eyes in the mirror and sighed again, he just couldn't wrap his head around the fact you didn't love him anymore. Maybe you still did, he wasn't sure, but he'd screwed things up so bad you just wouldn't take the chance. And worse, you didn't even believe him. He never thought any of that could happen. He felt so disappointed in himself and didn't understand why he couldn't have been a better man to you, if he had, maybe right now you'd be together. It was no use wondering things now, he knew he'd lost you and he had nothing else to do there, he only wanted to get a glass of water and get the fuck out of that place. He walked silently through the hallway feeling so thankful to see the guests had already left and he didn't have to socialize with anyone, his social battery was drained at that point and he didn't have to pretend to be happy at all.

"But did you even tell him you were dating?" Kate's voice came from the kitchen, making Pedro stop dead in his tracks. He took a deep breath, his gut churning really hoping it would be someone else to reply to the question but you.

"When was I supposed to tell him? When he got his tongue down my throat?" You replied with a hint of annoyance as Kate seemed to be carrying out an interview with you, while you were tired and emotionally exhausted and all you wanted to do was go home.

"Plus, I'm not dating anyone, I'm just seeing Liev, it's not serious, just a few dates here and there…"

"And some fucking too, Y/N, or you really think I haven't noticed how you and him simply disappeared in the middle of dinner the other night and returned to the table all flushed and giggly?" She raised her eyebrow in a playfully way and saw how you blushed

"Kate!!!" You censored her "that's embarrassing, yeah, it happened a few times, so what? I'm single, he is single, or do you really think Pedro doesn't sleep around? I mean, he did when we were friends and close all the time, even if he knew it hurt my feelings, would he stop it now?" You asked "besides, I don't really buy this sudden gust of feelings he's got for me, I mean, the apologies were really important and I felt they were honest, and I really appreciate that, but don't you think it's too much of a coincidence that he suddenly discovers he loves me right when I'm about to walk out his life? You know he loves being loved. There's nothing wrong with that, we all want affection and love, but not when it comes at the cost of someone's happiness" you shrugged and got ready to leave.

Pedro was speechless and unable to move as too much bombarded him at the same time. First of all, you were dating? He couldn't believe his ears at first and it didn't make it any easier when you explained to Kate you weren't dating, you were just fucking the guy. If anything, it made it all worse. He couldn't believe that damn ape got to have access to your gorgeous body, a body that should be his, touched, kissed and worshiped by him and no one but him.

But the moment he heard your suspicions on his feelings, he felt like disappearing. He couldn't even describe how painful it felt, the pang in his chest was intense and he couldn't help but feel his eyes filled with tears. He didn't care if he looked pathetic, childish even, he was broken-hearted and done with that situation.

"Fuck this" he mumbled under his breath and finally exited the house, he was definitely getting you out of his mind.

•••

You hadn't seen Pedro many times after Flora's party. There had been other dinner parties you attended and some you even took Liev along with you, but Pedro was never present. He always came up with excuses saying he was busy doing photoshoots, studying his script or he was just out of town, little did everyone know, he felt left out and offended to know he hadn't been invited to the gatherings right after you two had fallen out. He didn't want to take out on any of your mutual friends, but it did seem to him it was pretty clear they preferred you over him. Not to mention no one wanted to have a simple friend get together turned into an awkward show by you and your boyfriend and Pedro there, lingering and watching you from afar.

But sometimes you two ran into each other at the gym. He usually kept to himself, always greeting you and asking how you were doing, but as soon as he saw Liev approaching, he'd put on his headphones, turn his back to both of you and focus on his training. He hated every single minute of those gym sessions, they were torture, he hated seeing you with that man, and no matter how much he tried not looking at the two of you, he couldn't help doing it. It was like a morbid curiosity that struck him every time and ripped his chest open. So he just decided to change schedules and avoid that sight once for all.

After his training he just shyly waved goodbye to you and headed home, he stepped into the shower in order to clear his mind, hoping he would forget about you and the unresolved feelings that haunted him. Every time he felt his heart ache, he thought of how much you suffered because of him and had to admit to himself that yeah, maybe he did deserve what he was going through. It pained him to think of everything he made you go through, but now you were happy, and as much as he tried being happy for you, he couldn't. It hurt him, but he was an actor after all and he would have no problem pretending for you. If you let him in, he would put on a happy face and support you as much as you helped him.

He got out of the shower and wrapped a towel around his waist, walking to the closet and finding something fresh to wear. Pedro knelt down to look for his pair of sneakers when he came across a box. He frowned softly as he didn't recognize it at first, it took him some time to finally acknowledge the object. It was the box you had handed him his birthday present. You'd always been really good at giving presents and the last birthday you spent together wasn't anything different.

He opened the box and smiled sadly, it somehow still held your perfume inside, making his heart flutter in his chest. He chuckled at the happy memory and frowned as he spotted something under the bow. He hadn't seen that when he got it nor the months that followed it, but now it had caught his attention and he was curious to find what the heck that was. He pulled it carefully, seeing it was a small card and thought maybe it was just something extra that came in with the box and you hadn't noticed it as well.

He still opened and held his breath at the words he found beautifully written. That handwriting he would recognize anywhere.

"I was wondering how long it would take you to find this card… I'm not that great with words, but here it is:

Feliz cumple mi amor. Te deseo toda la felicidad del mundo y quiero que sepas que siempre estaré a tú lado. ¡Te quiero hoy y siempre! **

- Y/N"

Pedro had lost track of how many times he'd read that message over and over, but by the time he was able to put it down, he had made up his mind: he wasn't going to let you go that easily.

•••

You were almost finished preparing dinner, placing the last potatoes in the baking pan and waiting for the oven to reach the right temperature when you heard the doorbell ring. You frowned and checked the clock, it was still early for Liev to show up, so you sighed, feeling a little annoyed at the uninvited guest. You went silent once you opened the door and saw Pedro standing there, he didn't say anything at first either, just scanned you with soft eyes, admiring you, taking in every single beautiful feature he came to love over time.

"Hey mariposa, can we talk?" He asked in his sweet voice, wanting to come inside desperately, you noticed his hands fidgeted with something nervously.

"Sure, Pedro. Come in, let's go to the kitchen, I'm cooking and can't leave stuff unattended" you said giving him space to walk in and saw him following you, you had no idea what that visit was about.

You asked him to make himself at home, offering him something to drink which he politely declined, and observed you put the baking pan into the oven. Only then, he realized how much he missed your cook, how you'd spend the weekends at his home, baking all the things you enjoyed eating, and he would always end up with the dishes as he was not skilled with his cooking at all.

"Listen, princesa, I came here because we need to talk…"

"Pedro please, don't call me that…" you said in a low voice and bit your lips, finally turning to him. You saw him frown and shake his head softly.

"Call you what, hermosa?" He questioned you, seeing a soft flush spreading across your face.

"Calling me those pet names, Pedro… I know I used to like them, but it's not appropriate anymore, I mean, we're not that close and-"

You were interrupted by his hands gripping your hips, squeezing them gently and gluing his body to yours, your faces inches away from each other's, he closed his eyes, leaning towards you, his short beard scratching against your chin, your skin so sensitive to his touch, it sent goosebumps all over it.

"So you don't wanna be my mariposa anymore? You're not mi cariño? Mi hermosa, mi muñequita, mi amor?" He asked in a whisper against your ear. Even if you tried to break free from his touch, which you straight up didn't, it would be impossible. Your body felt on fire at that teasing, at that taunting moment, you hated how Pedro ruined you. But you also loved.

"Answer me, Y/N… I know you don't believe in me, you don't believe in my feelings for you, but guess what, I think you are a lying little shit as well" he kept the same tone, but this time it was followed by soft kisses spread all over your neck, ghosting it softly. "You are a fucking liar Y/N, because you told me you didn't love me anymore" Pedro continued, his lips on your throat, making you squirm as he added his teeth, leaving soft bites all over it, before finally getting to your lips.

He stopped and stared into your eyes, stroking your cheek gently and pecking your lips and chuckling.

"If you don't love me anymore, care to explain this?" He showed you the card you had written for his birthday, seeing your widened eyes and your disbelief. You hadn't forgotten about the card, but you just hoped really hard he would never find it.

You gasped and moved your body against his, so he would stop holding you so close, but Pedro used his weight to prevent you from escaping.

"Cat got your tongue, princesa? I guess it means you still fucking love me, don't you?" He chuckled "that means you are not only a fucking liar, but also one little stubborn muñequita, because you love me, you know I love you and you don't want to be together" he shook his head.

"Pedro, we can't, please, I already told yo-" you squealed the moment you felt his heavy hands on your ass lifting you up and placing you on the kitchen counter. He only took his time to settle you down before attacking your lips with his. The kiss was urgent and deep, his tongue brushing against yours as his hands roamed around your body, at the same time you tugged his hair, not helping yourself but moaning at how heated you were making out.

Pedro broke the kiss and smirked at you "Eres tan linda, mi amor" he whispered and stroked your cheek, sinking his hand down your lap and getting under your shirt, his thick, rough fingertips brushing softly against your skin like he'd never done it before.

"We can't…" you whimpered in need and only earned a scoff from him.

"Mi amor, mira…" he said patiently and let go of your body, though he was locked in your embrace as your legs snaked against his waist "if you want us to stop, we will, but does it really seem you do?" He tilted his head and gave you one of his sweet innocent smile, waiting for you to let go of your body, which you just didn't.

He pulled you back for another kiss, his hand tight on your hair, dragging sweet moans from your mouth. You couldn't resist any longer, you know you should, you had to, but it felt impossible to break free from his spell. You were tired of lying to yourself, you ached for Pedro and you would go all the way with him.

Suddenly the sound of a door slamming shut interrupted you both, you immediately broke the kiss and saw an enraged Liev staring at you both.

"What the fuck, Y/N?" Your boyfriend shouted in pure anger. You can see jaw tightening and the way his veins were more visible.

He took a step closer to you both "what the fuck is this piece of shit doing here? I thought you were done with him?" He yelled "I guess you couldn't keep in your panties anymore, you really got that hungry of a cunt to want two cocks at once? I didn't know you were such a filthy whore" he said taking another step closer to you.

Pedro closed his hand in a fist "shut the fuck up, don't you fucking dare talk to her like that, asshole" He immediately placed himself between you and Liev, shielding your body with his own.

"You shut up, asshole. I'll deal with this bitch first and then I'll fucking kill you!" Liev yelled and aimed his punch at you, but hitting Pedro instead, as he stood there to protect you.

You were so nervous you didn't even know what to do, you just screamed, so terrified and scared at how angry Liev punched Pedro. You had no other reaction than grab a knife nearby and point it at Liev

"G-get out Liev, get out now!!!" You threatened though your voice and your hand was shaking.

The man laughed at your attempt to scare him away, but was distracted enough to receive Pedro's punches on his face as payback for the first attack. Liev wasn't expecting and lost balance for a moment, falling down.

Pedro groaned in pain, but turned to you, taking the knife from your hand "calm down cariño, things will be fine" he said trying to soothe you as he turned to the man "get the fuck outta here and don't come back, I'll fucking kill you if you ever get anywhere near Y/N" Pedro threatened with cold anger in his eyes, anyone could see he was deadly serious, and Liev got up slowly, walking towards the door knowing if he gave in to his revenge thoughts, the cops would be on him at any minute.

He shot you one last glare "and you, little bitch, enjoy your moment with this dick, I hope he treats you like shit, exactly like a filthy whore like you deserves it"

Liev exited and left you shaking in nervousness at everything that went on. Pedro held your face gently, his own bleeding at the wounds he got. You whimpered and began crying.

"Shh it's okay cariño, I'm here for you, you're safe now" Pedro wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, only caring about your well-being and nothing else.

-----

** translation: "Happy Birthday my love. I wish you all the happiness in the world and I want you to know I'll always be by your side. I love you today and forever"

A/N: I hope you guys have enjoyed it!!! Again, I picked Liev with Liev Schreiber in mind but it was a just because situation so you guys can picture whoever you want. If you have any other ideas for the next chapters, let me know ❤️