#watched him completely lose himself in what he's doing and forget the world

[eoinmcgonigal]

07: Bill/Johnny

Catching up! Here's my very late thing for @almost-a-class-act 's prompt: Character A's ex-lover/high school acquaintance/friend they haven't seen in years has just turned up on their doorstep. "The curse. It's real."

For context/warning: Bill is massively dysregulated at the start of this.

Also. This is long. Oops.

-

He could do without the buzzer going. He could do without a lot of things happening today, but the last twenty four hours have just been like that. He’s still unsettled from running into Pat yesterday, and could seriously have done without that reminder of the past. It’s been three years since high school, and not one single memory that’s come back to Bill in the years since has been a good or happy one.

The intercom is, of course, still broken. Bill tugs his keys from their peg, and goes to answer the door manually. Two floors, four flights of stairs, and then he’s hefting the lock of the front door open, yanking on the unimpressive thing. The door swings open, over the worn mat, to reveal a typical grey day, and someone Bill never thought he’d see again. His heart trips, and then sinks to new, unknown depths, taking Bill’s already shit mood with it.

As gorgeous as ever, as perfectly handsome as Bill tries not to remember, Johnny Cooper stands in the street, smiling his brightest everybody-loves-me smile.

Bill doesn’t know what he’s done to deserve this.

“The curse,” he mutters to himself, pulling the door back towards himself so that there’s no space for Johnny to see past him, into the hallway. “It’s real.”

Johnny’s expression falters, falling. “What curse?”

Bill has no interest in dealing with this. It’s already a bad day. Facing the person he had a crush on since S3 the day after he bumped into the guy he disastrously dated for a whole week in S5 really is torture. The universe is laughing at him, and Bill half expects someone else from school to jump out from behind Johnny.

No one does. It’s a start. But Johnny is still there, staring up at him. “Um, I…”

“Yes?” Bill prompts. He wants to get this over with. “What is it?”

Johnny recoils from the tone of his voice. Bill can tell it was perhaps a bit abrupt, but he really doesn’t care. “I, um…” Johnny repeats.

Bill lets out a sigh, aching to turn away. There’s a deep, familiar stinging in his chest, and he hates that, after all this time, it’s still there. He only managed to get over Johnny after school because he never saw him again, and Johnny became a sometimes-memory of the only person Bill ever felt genuinely attracted to. The fleeting, passing fancies he’s had since then have never got so deep under his skin, and never lasted so long.

“Pat said he saw you yesterday.”

“Great.”

He hadn’t meant to mutter that, but the filter between Bill’s thoughts and speech usually fucks off when he’s in a sour mood. It never improves matters, but Bill is beyond caring.

“Did you want something?” he bites out. The sooner Johnny comes out with it, the sooner Bill can retreat back upstairs and deal with the horrible nest sensations swirling inside of him.

“I wanted to see you.”

Bill snorts at that. “Well, now you’ve seen me.”

He leans against the door, wanting to shut it, just as Johnny climbs the step. “Bill…”

He’s reaching out, not to touch or anything, but… Bill’s attention falls to that hand for a moment, and then he looks back up at Johnny, hating that he now knows those blue eyes are as heartbreakingly beautiful as ever.

“What happened?”

“What happened?” Bill echoes, not understanding the question.

“I thought you might… want to see me?”

“No?” is Bill’s immediate response. “Why in the world would I want that?”

He can see how much his words hurt. The hurt little part inside himself is pleased, but the rest of him feels awful. Johnny actually looks upset, his eyes going wide as his expression falls. Regret comes hard on the heels of his own words, and makes Bill feel even worse. Why won’t this day just end? Why did he have to see Pat, and indulge him, admitting to things Bill never wanted to tell anyone else?

“Pat said…”

In his horror, Bill doesn’t know if he should slam the door, or scream. He freezes, his eyes starting to sting as he tries to defend himself. “That was years ago!”

He realises he’s breathing hard. It hurts. Why did Pat have to go and say anything? Why did he repeat what Bill told him?

Johnny leans forwards so subtly he probably doesn’t even realise he’s doing it, but Bill does, and he wants to run.

“I wish I’d known,” Johnny says.

Bill scoffs at that. He knows he’s being ugly, but he doesn’t know how else to be. He feels like a raw, exposed nerve, and needs it to end. “What, so you could laugh at me?”

Johnny pulls back. “What? No, of course not!”

When Johnny shifts his weight again, his shoulders soften, his expression gentle.

“I liked you too.”

Oh.

Oh fuck. No. This isn’t happening. It’s not.

Bill takes a step back, laughing harshly. His mind tells him that Johnny is being serious, but he can’t understand why the world has to be so cruel. He could have lived the rest of his life without ever knowing that. Now, if his thoughts drift back to that time, they’re going to be forever changed by the painful ‘what if?’, instead of the old, familiar knowledge that no one as handsome and perfect as Johnny would ever want Bill. No one ever wants Bill, which is just fine, really, in spite of the deep, aching loneliness at the core of him, because Bill has never wanted anyone anyway.

Well, apart from Johnny.

He lets out a breath, the laughter gone as quickly as it came. He doesn’t know what to say. Johnny is still standing there, gazing up at him, not leaving. Bill wonders what it would take to get him to go.

He wonders, and does nothing. It’s Johnny who leads, now. “Honestly?” Johnny continues plainly. “I still think about you sometimes. You are my ‘what if?’, you know?”

Bill does know, although he doesn’t know why he’s that to Johnny.

“So if you want to hang out, catch up, get a coffee…” Johnny trails off for a moment. “I would like that.”

Unclenching his jaw, BIll tries to get his tongue to work. He’s not sure he can trust this. It’s too good to be true. “Is that why you came here?”

“Yes,” Johnny breathes. “A few years late, I know.” There’s a weak little smile, something… shy. Vulnerable. Cute.

Bill swallows, not sure where he stands. He doesn’t feel better, but at least the swirling, angry irritation has shifted into something quieter. “Aren’t you and Pat…?”

Johnny shakes his head. “No. We are just good friends.”

“Oh.”

At least Bill hadn’t admitted how he felt about Johnny to Johnny’s boyfriend.

“He knows how much I like you,” Johnny continues. “I mean, he only found out after you two…”

Yeah, Bill would really rather not remember that disaster.

“Is that really why it didn’t work out?”

Bill isn't able to answer that. It's too raw, too personal and private. He’d carelessly admitted to Pat yesterday that when they’d had their silly little thing he’d liked someone else, and couldn’t get over them. His guard had been down. He’d admitted that it was Johnny when Pat asked, knowing even as the confession escaped him that he was going to regret it. Pat had gone still for a moment, and then chuckled a ‘Cooper? Damn’ before moving on.

He wonders if Pat also told Johnny that he’s still single.

“Well, anyway,” Johnny breathes, his tone shifting to something breezy. He seems dismissive, brushing away what he’s just asked. “If you want to, as friends or whatever, I would like that. I can give you my number?”

“My phone’s upstairs.”

“I can give you a missed call, and you can message me back.” As he speaks, Johnny gets out his phone and, feeling somewhat trapped and unsure how to get out of this, Bill automatically rattles off his number.

It’s only when Johnny repeats it back to him, and gives the call a few seconds to connect, that Bill realises he could have given the wrong number, and Johnny would never know.

“What sort of place would you like to go?” Johnny asks.

Embarrassed by his answer, Bill gives the only one he can: “The arcade.”

Johnny’s face lights up. “By the beach?”

Bill nods. “Yeah.”

“I haven’t had a chance to go yet.” His smile is distracting. “What about this evening?”

Bill doesn’t really feel like adding to today’s disaster, but the temptation of getting it over and done with, and not having anything up in the air, is stronger. “Okay.”

“It’s a date!” Johnny grins.

Bill flinches at that, not ready for it. “I don’t know you,” he points out.

Johnny’s expression falls, suddenly seeming sad. There’s something gentle about that look, though, making Bill want to reach out and do something to make it go away, because it feels like he could do something to make it go away. He is the cause of it, after all.

“You don’t have to know me,” Johnny says softly. “Wanting to get to know me is enough.”

“Oh.”

There’s a twitch of a smile, something very open and unguarded about Johnny, and in that moment Bill feels like no time has passed at all since that last day of school. Only, this time, he has a chance, and not just a cheery ‘good luck!’ that had felt false. Johnny had wished everyone luck—they still had exams, after all—and given everyone a hug. Well, everyone apart from Bill, who had curled his shoulders forward and wrapped his arms around himself, trying to keep his head down and survive without any unwanted touch. It had been a wretched day, and gladly forgotten once he was free of school walls.

Bill looks at Johnny, and forgets everything else. “Aye, okay,” he decides, and watches as Johnny smiles again, his whole face lighting up. It’s strange to know that he’s caused that.

“Text me the time, okay? And where to meet.”

He starts to nod, and then goes still. “Wait here.”

“Okay?”

Bill doesn’t hang around to explain. He turns, letting the door fall shut behind him as he darts back up the stairs. It’s suddenly urgent to check his phone, and he makes it through his front door to find his phone where he left it in the kitchen. There’s a missed call. With a sigh of relief, he bounds back down the stairs.

Johnny is still standing there, a step back. Bill joins him in the street, letting the door shut behind him. He hadn’t realised how chilly the air was. Lifting his phone, he shows the screen. “This you?”

Johnny peers at the number, leaning in close enough that Bill catches the scent of his deodorant. “Yes.”

Nodding, Bill pulls his phone back, and saves Johnny’s number properly. “See you later?” he wonders.

“Definitely,” Johnny smiles, and it’s then that Bill realises he has about an inch or two on Johnny, now that he stands up tall instead of curling in on himself. It makes Johnny feel different to him, new, while at the same time still the same person Bill fell for. It’s both dangerous and reassuring to know that Bill could easily fall for him again.

There’s nothing more to say. Bill lets out a breath, an agreement reached, and the unknown before him. At least he won’t have to wait long. He gives an awkward wave as Johnny takes a step back, and tries not to watch him go while he works his key into the lock. He doesn’t have a fucking clue how it’ll go this evening, but it feels so much better watching Johnny walk away knowing that it’s not forever this time. Well, not that it was forever last time, but Bill didn’t know that.

Safely back in his flat, Bill realises that the turmoil of earlier is gone. Another kind of turmoil has replaced it, but it’s not as distressing, nor as fraying. He’s excited, he realises, although has no idea how he’s going to apologise to Johnny for being so abrupt earlier.

Trying not to think about it, Bill sends Johnny a text telling him to meet Bill at the arcade at six. It closes at eight today, instead of ten. Two hours isn’t too long if it goes badly, but if it goes well they’ll still have time afterwards, maybe even to walk along the beach. Bill would like that.

With that in mind, he goes into the hallway and sets his army surplus boots in front of the door, hopeful they’ll be the right choice.

Some time close to eleven, he’s kicking them off again, and smiling absentmindedly to himself. They were a good choice.

War is Helloween

[webism]

pornstar!satoru who knows there are a million eyes on him, he’s seen his view counts—the whole world has seen his form. He’s cocky, loves knowing just how many people have gotten off to the sight of him.

pornstar!satoru who, despite his infamous confidence, gets nervous when you walk on set and offer him your camera-ready smile. You’re such a pretty thing, the dictionary’s definition of perfect.

pornstar!satoru who can’t help but excuse himself before the shoot, so he can was his face and sate his nerves. Locks himself away in a bathroom just to pull his phone out and google your name—and god does he like what he sees.

pornstar!satoru who is minutes away from having to be balls deep inside of you and can’t help himself from touching himself in the bathroom. scrolling endlessly on his phone, pictures of you in different positions, different little outfits, looking fucking perfect in each one.

pornstar!satoru who cums harder than he has in months, in a porn set bathroom, just to the fantasy of his hand being yours. he feels like a sex-driven teen again, hands clammy as he washes them clean from the receipt of his desperation.

pornstar!satoru who is hard again the second he steps out to find you already naked on the scene bed. your skin looks satin soft against those sheets, eyes soft and lips softer as you watch him stalk over to you. consent checks and camera placement talk goes through one ear and out the other, he can’t get his eyes off you.

pornstar!satoru who forgets he’s a pornstar the moment his hands touch that sweet body of yours. he’s completely fumbling the scene laid out, the scripted dirty talk is forgotten the second his lips open. the only reason cameras aren’t cut is because the filth that leaves his mouth instead is more pornographic than the scene at hand.

pornstar!satoru who presses you down into the mattress in a mean mating press when he’s supposed to have you face down ass up. who would he be to deny himself a long look into those pretty eyes of yours? no way is he losing this opportunity for a paycheck he doesn’t really need.

pornstar!satoru who loses his curated pornstar persona the minute he bottoms out inside of you. his usual moans and groans are replaced with desperate whines of real pleasure. this is sex, he’s a mess of need and want and sweat and god do you look good stuffed full of his cock. he can tell you’re feeling it too, that something else, that electric eroticism that gets lost when you fuck for a living.

pornstar!satoru who can’t stop wondering what you’d look like pinned down in his own bed, away from the harsh light and prying eyes of the production crew. who has such a visceral feeling of dread knowing how many people are going to see you like this, fucked out and cockdrunk by his doing. it’s possession, a need to keep you to himself, sequester you away for his eyes only.

pornstar!satoru who cums ropes way too quickly. he’s usually good at holding his orgasm at bay for long enough to make a porno, but your pussy clenched around his cock was too much, your nails in the corded muscle of his biceps, your lips against his, your body in his fucking vicinity? he can’t help it.

pornstar!satoru who, after filming, invites you back to his for a drink or three, and gets swiftly rejected when you bat your pretty lashes at him and mention your boyfriend waiting for you at home.

pt 2!

[iamyourdailydoseofbi]

Sorry for english mistakes, it is not my first language. Can we have more of what ‘Familial Issues Anon’ was talking about? Requesting for more Brother Aegon but it is not tied to the previous fic? Like Aegon and Little Sister Reader growing up with one another and the ideas of the Anon that requested it? Sorry it is my first tine asking for a fic request!

THE HISTORY BOOK ON THE SHELF. ( HOTD x READER ) [ PREQUEL? ]

AUTHOR NOTE! Thanks for all the love. <3 pairing: Young! Aegon Targaryen x Little Sis! Reader prompt: Aegon finds himself enable to grasp the thought of losing you forever. word count: 1, 000+ words

You were a pest. No, you were a clingy pest. Like a leech. Aegon's personal leech. You just stuck to him. No matter how many times he tried to get rid of you, you came waddling back to him like a little duckling. You'd stare up at him, big puppy dog eyes and a giddy smile. So pure, so untouched. He wanted to ruin you. To ruin that good you had in you, in hopes it would make you stop clinging onto him. But, it never worked.

He could spout out the cruelest of insults to you, and you'd just stare at him. So innocent that the words did not click in his head. He could push you, and you'd just stand back up unflinching. Still seeing the best in him. He hated it. It was odd. Why could you not see the bad in him? The bad that everyone else saw in him? Why did you have to be so good? So sweet? So loving?

He hated it. Yet, he craved your presence. There was something nice about having you by his side. You weren't like Jace, trying to impress him. Or as much of a follower as Luke, wanting to fit in. You just adored him and everything he did. Like a stupid puppy. It was a battle within him.

"She's a pest." Yes, but she's your little sister.

"She sees too much good in me." Yes, but wasn't that better than hate?

"She was too young." Yes, only eleven and still too naive to understand just how horrid and rotten he was. But, she made him smile with her child-like wonder of the world.

"She loves you." Yes, she was the only one that did. Or at least, the only one that did love him for him. No matter how rotten he was. 

"She's too clingy." Yes, but one day she will grow out of it and suddenly the loneliness will come creeping back in. She won’t be there trailing after him, or hug him, or smile at him. 

"One day she will marry and leave you all alone." Yes, but for now you were his little sister. You were his little duckling. His little shadow. His little pest and he wanted to cling onto that a little longer. 

Watching you trailing after Aemond like a puppy, he scowls deeply, hatred and jealousy bubbling inside of him. You were supposed to be his little shadow. Not Aemond's. Keeping his distance for now, he watches as you give Aemond a big hug and smile, nodding your little head enthusiastically at whatever he says. The scowl on his face grows more and more deep. What could Aemond say that made you so happy? Watching you hand Aemond a linen cloth, he grows even more angry. No, no, no, that was his thing. You were supposed to give him gifts! Not Aemond.

Not being able to hold back any longer, he stalks towards the two of you, a dark glare on his face pointed towards Aemond. There was no way in the Seven hells was he going to allow Aemond to steal you from him. You were his pest. You were his. Not Aemond. Aemond could have Helaena or Jace and Luke for all he cared. You were his. You were meant to cling onto him. Watching you ramble away to Aemond, he straightens out, puffing up his chest to look more bigger. 

"Oh, Y/n.." He calls out, a hint of sing-song tone in his voice.

"Egg!" You cheerfully call out, your words lisping together.

"Aegon. We've been over this. It's Aegon, not Egg." He huffs, rolling his eyes.

“What are you doing here, Egg?” You ask, not catching his annoyance. 

Watching you completely forget about Aemond, he swiftly picks you up, carrying you on his back in a piggy back ride. You were a little heavy and too big to be carried in such a manner, but he didn’t care. If it meant keeping you close to him, he would grit his teeth and do it. Hearing you giggle loudly, he walks away from Aemond, shooting a deadly glare over his shoulder. As if he was a dog pissing on the ground to mark his territory. He wanted to be clear to everyone, you were his.

“Does not matter.” He brushes off, “We are going to the kitchen’s, I heard they are making lemon cakes.”

“Lemon cakes?”

“Yes, I think we can steal a few of them.” He nods, “What do you say, hm? An adventure with your big brother?”

“I would like that.” You smile, making him perk up.

"Good, good, because I wan't going to put you down anyways."

Watching as you dissect the lemon cake, you push the bitter lemon frosting away with your fork, piling it up on the side of the plate. Smiling softly as you turn your plate so he could eat the frosting, his gaze softens ever so slightly, shoulder’s relaxing. You were too kind. Even when eating your food, you still wanted to share with him, knowing that the frosting was always his favorite part. Pushing his uneaten slice closer to you, he had no desire to eat the lemon cake anymore, just wanting to see you smile some more. 

“Aegon?” You mumble, playing with your food with your fork. 

“Yes?” 

“I have a question.” You stare at the plate, “About marriage.”

“Marriage? What in the Seven’s name is making you think of marriage? You’re too young for that.” 

“Grandsire said I will one day make a good wife and mother. That I must follow my studies closely.” You mumble, “Do you think that I will be a good wife and mother one day?”

Furrowing his brows in confusion, he didn’t know why you were asking such a question, you were a long way away before marriage would become a concern. You barely turned ten and one, weeks ago. You should be focused on other matter’s, like embroidery or whatever stupid Court gossip spread around.

Wrinkling his nose up the more he thinks of you getting married, the more he dislikes the thought. You were too young, and too important for him to let you succumb to such a boring fate. If he was King, you would never have to marry. You two would just fly on dragon back and have fun all day. 

“I do. But, that’s like a billion years from now.” He rolls his eyes, exaggerating with his words.

“Do you think so? I know of many other girl’s who are already betrothed.” You mumble, playing with the frosting. 

“Yes, well, those other girls aren’t you. You're a Princess, a Targaryen one. You’re important and different from them. They're dull.” He shakes his head, refusing to compare you to the other girl in Court.

“You think so?” You ask, eyes full of so much hope.

“I know so. We’re Targaryen’s! Everyone wants to be us because we are special and they are dull and common.” He smiles, “There’s a thousand of them, and only one of you. You’re special.”

Watching as a big goofy smile spreads on your face, he perks up at the sight, happy to cause such joy within you. Picking apart the lemon cake with his fork, he watches as your eyes lower down to your plate, shoulder’s slouching for a moment. The smile on your face falters for a moment, almost as if some thought popped in your head and ruined the moment. Furrowing his brows at how quick the joy is gone, he wanted to punch whoever or whatever had popped into your head. 

“What is it?” He asks, slightly concerned by your shift in mood. 

“But, Grandsire said⎯”

“You are barely reaching your ten and two name day. You are too young to be considered a wife or Mother.” He shakes his head dismissively, “Grandsire is a fool. Do not let such things upset you. I won’t let them marry you off. You’ll stay here in the Red Keep with me, for like, forever.” 

Little did either of you know, that just on the other end of the Red Keep.Your marriage had already been arranged, and soon you’d be shipped off.

---

[onyourowndaisymae]

"is... is that my sweater?"

satan notes the lethargic way you look up from your book, watching heavy eyelids lead a slow blink. whatever dusty tome lies in your hands has clearly lured you halfway to dreamland-- and from the looks of it, your cozy attire and the crackle of the nearby fireplace didn't seem to help much, either.

"huh?"

"are you wearing my sweater?" he asks, softer this time.

you let your head fall down to your own chest. you stare at the familiar green sweater on your body for a few moments before lifting your head.

"huh?" you repeat, too tired to comprehend the question for a long moment. then, "... oh. yeah."

a warm chuckle rumbles in his chest as he comes closer. satan had been looking for his sweater all day-- left only in a black undershirt, because it was more about the principle of finding it than needing it-- but he had been wholly unaware he'd left it in your room earlier that day. he couldn't bring himself to regret it, though. you look quite cozy cuddled up on the library sofa like that, swaddled in a blanket and his scent, lost in some book like a vision from an old painting. how he wishes he'd been a little quieter entering the library-- maybe he could have snapped a photo of you like this for himself.

as your lover, satan knows he should probably escort you to bed for a proper rest. but a selfish part of him wants to bask in this scene longer, to let the storm that rages in him find solace at this little slice of heaven. it's odd for a demon to crave peace like this. you've domesticated him in that way-- like a feral cat off the street finding comfort in a stranger's apartment, you've lulled him into a sense of contentness he didn't think he'd find in this lifetime.

oh, what a wonder you are.

"do you mind a little company?"

you nod, sleepily, yawning through what was intended to be a verbal response, but satan's at your side before you make yourself try again. his hand finds your shoulder and coaxes you to sit up. with a little adjusting, he slides into the space behind you and urges you to lean back into his chest. his legs stay on either side of you-- it's warm, comforting, doing nothing to help you stay awake. but it doesn't seem like satan minds your drowsiness.

his eyes fall to the nearly discarded book in your hands. emerald eyes scan over the words. they're familiar, causing a curious itch in his brain that lingers for a few seconds before his epiphany.

"is this... that book i read last week?"

"mhmm. i wanted--" another yawn, "-- to understand what you were talking about, but... i got sleepy."

he understands now. his sweater on your warm body, the library couch, the low fire nearby-- you're indulging in a small taste of his world.

what did he do to deserve someone as wonderful as you?

"i can read it to you, if you'd like," he murmurs, low and quiet. if you wanted the full experience, he'd give it to you-- complete with a nap in his arms. it's selfish, though. he really just wants an excuse to admire you up close, to lose himself in thought about how much he truly, deeply adores you. sometimes the sensation is so overwhelming that it shows on his face in flushed cheeks and soft eyes-- and that is a little too embarrassing to be caught with by anyone, but especially by you.

when you snuggle into his chest, he begins to read from the top of the page where you left off. it doesn't take long for your breathing to even out, your body to grow still and heavy in his grasp. he slides the bookmark between old pages where you originally left off. satan predicts you'll forget most everything he read to you by the time you wake up.

his mind wanders to the soundtrack of your peaceful breathing. he's grateful for lazy days like this. being able to bask in your presence is a gift. to know that you yourself were creating a similar experience by hiding away in one of his favorite reading spots, well... he's lucky you're asleep, as the flush on his cheeks only grows hotter at the thought.

maybe he'll let you borrow his things more often.

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: When M6 are forced to attack MC

-- to set the scene --

It was a nightmare.

Thick clouds of miasma hung over the city as you and your lover confronted the sorcerer in the fields outside its walls. Between a series of traps and some well-placed taunts, you had successfully cornered them, which meant that while victory was in sight your opponent was down to their last desperate measure.

The measure in question, it seemed, was for the most horrifying three minutes of your life as you watched your lover struggle against a vicious spell before suddenly turning on you. Their usual loving gaze was replaced with a cold glare and they didn't hesitate to lunge at you with the intent to kill. You ended up choosing to take the hits and focus your energy on dealing the last blow to the evil sorcerer instead, not wanting to waste time hurting the one you love.

As the dust settles, you're too relieved to see cognizance return to your darling's face to notice their horrified expression, or to feel your own blood soaking the ground below you.

Julian

Too busy focused on trying to keep you conscious and heal you to do anything else at first. He's already crying, tears leaking from under his eyepatch as he gives you frantic first aid

Can barely bring himself to look at you once you're safely tucked in at Mazelinka's and being tended to by visitor after visitor. You will need to remind him day after day that it's not his fault

And, yes, convince him not to leave you because of it

Still won't be able to find any peace with it until you tell him you've forgiven him, and even then struggles to believe he's worthy of it

Tends obsessively to your wounds, in a weird combination of torturing himself by constantly checking them and redeeming himself by being the one to help his uncontrolled actions heal

Is able to hold it against himself less the less he sees you suffering. Once you're fully recovered and back on your feet, it feels more like a distant nightmare

Has a new interest in learning magic, if only enough so he can protect himself against behind hijacked like that in the future

Asra

Completely numb and on autopilot. You're hurt. They're going to do whatever it takes to fix that. Just hold on, it'll be okay - it'll be okay

Refuses to leave your side or sleep for very long at a time while you're recovering. It's like his world has narrowed to your survival

Unusually quiet. As in, barely speaks unless you speak to them first, and yet hyper-observant to the point that they're bringing you what you need before you even realize that you need it

Neglects everything beyond his own basic self-maintenance in the process. It's easier to forget himself and save his own pain and guilt to be processed until after he knows you're safe

Itching to heal over any scars left over and terrified of suggesting it and seeming like they just want to brush the whole thing aside

Has to be pushed to talk about it and won't open up until after you're completely back to normal, at which point he breaks down and spends an afternoon hiccuping "I'm sorry"s into your chest

Regresses to a lot of their previous boundaries until you can tell them that you still feel safe with them physically and emotionally

Nadia

She has no doubts about you being a strong person. While she's horrified at what her body was used to do to you and the injuries you sustained, she's most upset at her losing control so easily

She feels guilty for you getting hurt, because she's convinced that she should have been able to withstand the sorcerer's spell

Surely, if she loved you as truly as you deserve to be loved, she would've been able to break free or stop it from working

Carries you back to the Palace herself and sees to it that you have everything you could possibly need, before effectively avoiding you for the next few days. She's convinced your relationship is over

Either because you're leaving her for not being able to protect you, or because you've lost your respect for her as a partner

It's also tapping into her own trauma of being trapped inside her body for a three year coma, which doesn't help the frustration

Genuinely unsure what to do with your forgiveness, understanding, and continued love and admiration for her

She doesn't know what she did to deserve you but she loves you

Muriel

The first count he holds against himself is that he hurt you. The second count is that he was so horrified and traumatized by what just happened that he froze while you were still bleeding out

Thankfully there were other people present to help you out, and you didn't have to find out what could've gone wrong

Refuses to touch you for days. If anybody else had caused the damage he sees on your body, he'd be wishing hell on them. Except not only was it his hands that did it -

He was controlled that easily. He's spent years reclaiming control and ownership of his body after being made a spectacle of in the Coliseum, and in a flash it was all taken away from him again

And it was used to hurt you. None of his nightmares adds up to the combination of violated, afraid, and horrified that he just felt

Relegates himself to being your bodyguard and keeping you provided for, but terrified that you're not safe around him until you're able to convince him otherwise

It's still a reoccurring nightmare for years to come

Portia

So angry at you for not fighting back

Already crying and scolding you while she's putting pressure on your wounds to stop the bleeding and helping you get back home

Did you think she couldn't take it? Did you think she wanted you to get hurt at her hands? Why didn't you fight her back if it would have spared you so much pain?

Why didn't you help her enforce what you knew were her own wishes, and at the cost of your safety and well-being too?

Simultaneously dedicating every fibre in her body to taking care of you. If you so much as breathe a little differently she's checking you over and bringing you whatever you need

Eventually able to find her own healing by being able to accept your love and by beating the absolute crap out of the sorcerer in question until she gets an "I was wrong" out of them

Determined to learn defense and protection magic to makes sure neither of you is left that vulnerable, ever again

Still cries when she sees the leftover scars, sometimes

Lucio

Pale from the shock of what's just happened and trying not to panic as he gives you all the first aid he's picked up through years of battlefield injuries and experience

Frantically muttering "don't leave, don't leave" through clenched teeth and pouring tears while he tries to get the bleeding to stop

Rushes you to the nearest doctor and won't leave your side

Convinced that you're not going to be able to love him after this

He knows he's done things worse than this in the past. He knows that you know that, but the thing that's made a better life possible has been his commitment to not being that person any more

And now he was that person. Event though it wasn't his choice and technically not his fault, he still did it. To you. You experienced it

Also worried that you won't understand that it wasn't his fault this time and wondering if maybe it was his fault, somehow

Able to accept your love and forgiveness pretty easily, but has a much harder time believing that he didn't lose all the progress he's made so far in making good use of his fresh start on life

[ladyxskywalker]

In Exile

Anakin Skywalker x F!Reader/OFC

after his battle with obi wan, anakin is spared & is instead banished to a remote farm world. there is no darth vader, no suit, no extensive injuries. only inner turmoil. he must find peace & healing. but what he didn't expect, was to find a kind lady there who just wants to be loved & help him.

part two

a choose your own outcome story ! weekly story polls posted at the end of each chapter ! hope you enjoy ! 💌

Sunflowers, part one

It is an unusual time of day.

The sky has already become a softened shade of violet, the wind whispering quietly as it passes by - the suns, still felt to be the warmest right before setting.

Anakin looks up towards the haze. It is the later part of Summer on this planet. A forgotten place with no name that he calls home now. His farm, still needing tending to, even though things are sparse and the people are few here. 

He keeps to himself often because he likes it that way, burying himself in his work, trying to forget things on repeat. Striking thoughts and vivid memories appearing to him in his headspace, never seeming just to go away. 

anakin, this isn't you...

you're going down a path I can not follow...

It’s as if he doesn’t truly want them to disappear. As though he needs to remember, just to keep going in some sick and twisted way. 

this isn’t living.

I’m only just existing…

Closing his eyes for a moment, Anakin lets out a calming exhale of breath, standing solemnly amongst the grass, as he becomes lost inside their gentle stream of swaying. It is the only thing he can allow of himself now. Something simple to ground himself in so that he can not feel anymore pain. Those insufferable feelings will happen later. At night, when sleeping is a luxury for him and he isn’t so busy. He doesn’t get much rest these days, consumed by every ounce of remembering. Wishing he could just turn everything off if only he had willed it to be so. To truly be emotionless. A thread of left behind humanity, constantly reeling him back in again. 

goodbye, old friend…

may the force be with you…

Anakin scoffs, adjusting his tunic before kneeling down into one of the plant beds, examining the delicate leaves taking shape on his now flowering vegetables. They’ll be ready to harvest very soon - he thinks. Which means, he’ll get to be proud of something for a change. Happy to have watched something grow, even if it had been on the outskirts of nowhere, in the middle of this strange and quiet town...

But then, he starts to think of his unborn children. Feeling as though he’d blown his only chance in life of watching them live, breathe, and thrive in the world. Considering the possibility of being a good father, teaching them what it means to be…

intelligent.

brave.

resourceful.

or even … good.

“I’m none of those things. Not anymore…” he says.

This time, not completely realizing that he’s said something to himself out loud, looking away from his dirt ridden hands to make sure that no one else had been there to notice.

But you had.

You always did. Even when you'd tried not to.

So beautiful, and smiling at him in the last remains of daylight.

Holding a freshly picked bunch of sunflowers in your arms, struggling a bit to hold onto all the stems.

“Here. Let me…”

He begins, brushing the palms of his hands onto the front of his pants, before making his way over to your small patch of land. 

I better help her before she loses them all…

don’t need anyone laughing at her.

no one. laughs. at. her…

“Oh…thank you so much Lars, you didn’t have to do that…”

Taking the flowers from her slightly shaken hands, he carefully begins to place them one by one into one of his garden baskets. Forgetting for a moment that he is no longer Vader, and no longer Anakin, either. That Lars is the only name now that he can go by. However misguided. It’s the only thing salvaged from his old life that he can have again. 

“Yes I did…better in here than on the ground. Don’t you have one of these things?” he says gruffly, focused on the task at hand. 

“I did…”

“What do you mean, you did?”

“Another farmer stole my only basket from me…among other things…they were upset, it was my fault anyway, and…”

“Upset? No matter of disagreement should ever warrant thievery.”

they don’t know the meaning of upset.

stealing from a lady…

really?

“They were angry when I didn’t return their affections. Now he’s trying to sabotage my business. Breaking things, poisoning my rose bushes... Spreading falsehoods about me and my family around the village…”

“Who. Is. He.?”

Anakin pauses deliberately between words, feeling a familiar heat inside himself rising to the surface.

Pointing to a house on the farthest side of town, he recognizes it immediately. 

Right opposite the lake.

The man is no farmer.

He's a vagrant fisherman.

Doing his own stretch of time on this desolate unlikely safe haven.

He must have escaped from someplace...

Avoiding a bounty...perhaps.

She's silent now. Perhaps he's frightened her with all of his wordless brooding.

Or...maybe it had something to do with the tightened closing of his fists.

I'm going to kill him.

“Go home. This will all be settled in the morning.”

“Settled…?”

He nods, having a hard time with being gentle. Trying his best to be reassuring.

But then, she smiles, her shoulders falling - relieved, before taking his hand. A metallic wonder resting in the palm of her own. She wishes that he can feel her, but somehow - strangely, she can almost sense that he does there.

“Thank you. I've been so afraid.”

Anakin hums, nodding in understanding.

If only she knew who was standing before her…

would she be in fear of me too here…?

doesn't matter…

But then...

Completely surprising him, she presses a kiss to his cheek.

Waves of unruly hair, almost getting in the way of it...

Leaving him standing there, contemplating a fight to be had in her honor at sunrise the next morning.

…❤️

a/n - thanks so much for reading ! 💫 I've been inspired to write a story again, & what better way to do it than to get everyone involved in the writing process too 😊 this idea has been swirling around in my mind (& drafts folder) for a while now, so it's been really exciting to see it come back to life in a whole new way. each part of the story will be cross posted to ao3, & will be tagged on tumblr with 'sky lady story time 💌' hope you enjoyed this first installment ! I'm excited to see what you guys want to see happen next 🌼☕📖 xo A

[lunar-years]

Peanut gallery social media commentary on Challengers is sooo funny to me.

“Art was the victim!” Did you miss the part where he started stirring shit up between his best friend and his best friend’s girlfriend in the hopes they’d break up and he could get with her instead? Or how he chose to cut off his best friend entirely to side with Tashi because Tashi blamed said best friend for her injury (literally he doesn’t even talk to Patrick about the argument? Ever? Just kicks him out of his life because Tashi wants them to LMAO)?

“Patrick was the victim!” Did you miss the part where Patrick spends like 13 years willfully reinserting himself back into a relationship he no longer gets to be a part of all because he’d rather ruin them and come between them and repeatedly hurt them if it means he knows they still think about him, rather than taking ownership of his actions and coming to terms with the fact that they no longer think about him at all? Did you miss the fact that he’s a giant flop on top of being a giant asshole?

“Tashi is an evil cold manipulative bitch who doesn’t care about anything but tennis and comes between them!” Okay what we’re not going to do is 1) act like those two losers weren’t active participants in the vast majority of what was happening to them so that we can blame everything on the woman 2) forget that Tashi spends the entire movie both being incredibly horny for yes tennis, but tennis very much including Art and Patrick specifically, as well as bringing a wrecking ball down on her own life repeatedly because she physically cannot go on without having all three of them in her life.

“The three of them are ALL terrible, bad people!” Are they or they neither good nor bad but a secret third thing (messed up, regular people)? Are they or they all three simultaneously the one’s holding the gun and falling into the graves they’ve dug for themselves?

“The movie promised me a throuple and then didn’t even deliver!/it was just a regular boring old love triangle” Did you miss the part where Patrick was the person who taught Art to jerk off? Did you miss the part where Tashi encourages them to neck her until they’re close enough for her to back away and leave them kissing each other as she watches with horny amusement? Did you miss the fact that they’re both playing for her number? Did you miss Art molding himself into the person who could obtain the glory that Tashi was denied? Or how he saw his fiance/wife kissing her ex boyfriend who also happens to be his ex best friend in Atlanta and then spends like 10 more years doing absolutely nothing about it? Did you miss “Don’t I matter?” “Not to the most obsessive tennis fan in the world” “I’m not talking about tennis” followed by an Art who has stopped caring whether he wins or loses caring, by the end of the match, more than he’s ever cared before, because Patrick DOES matter and because he’s STILL playing for Tashi’s number? Did you miss the part where for about 15 seconds there they were actually playing tennis and they understood each other completely and so did everyone watching and it was a bit like they were in love or like they didn’t exist and they went somewhere really beautiful together? HUH?

“They’re incredibly toxic!” Well, yes! but you see, that’s part of the fun!

[sweetkpopmusings]

wonwoo boyfriend headcanons <3

a/n: i am vibrating from how much cold brew i consumed on an empty stomach so i'm writing this in hopes of wonwoo thoughts calming me down but honestly i'll just end up crying <3 pics not mine~

content: fluff | wc: 1.4k | warnings: none! | pairing: boyfriend!wonwoo x gn!reader | requests: open

wonwoo is the love of my life actually. it's scientifically proven and peer-reviewed that i love and adore him with all my heart and soul, so this post is going to be long and filled with my love for him <3

sweetest softest most loving boy in the world <3

he's the type of person to show love through small, tender gestures and actions

loves playing with your hands

i can very clearly see him lying in bed, grabbing your hand delicately, and twiddling with your fingers while you both watch tv/read/scroll on your phones

he also does this absentmindedly when he’s thinking

he may be lost in thought but that doesn’t mean he’s unaware of your presence <3

your presence actually helps him think more clearly :-(

he'll always come to you with questions or problems he needs to work through because just talking to you helps him sort out his thoughts and he knows you'll always offer support and advice

he will call you or send you voice messages about this when he's away too

you are always always always on his mind

and he never lets you forget it

wonwoo so clearly loves you with every little thing he does

even the unconscious ones

walking on the outer part of the sidewalk so you're farther away from vehicles, putting his hand over your head when you enter a car, getting two of a drink/snack so you can have some, tidying up your area of the bathroom counter, and so on

taking care of you is his second nature :-((

sometimes wonwoo just stares at you with complete wonder in his eyes because he can't believe you're real

when you catch him doing it and ask if there's something on your face he just shakes his head and says in tiny "oh no it's nothing"

he looks down to his hands and he's blushing SO much and fighting back a lil smile because he's overwhelmed by how much he loves you i'm screaming

if you push up his glasses when they start to slip or straighten the collar of his shirt or fix a loose strand of his hair he will absolutely lose it

you broke his brain like he doesn't know how to contain himself when you do kind gestures like that

he's muttering and stuttering "thank you" over and over again

he's so cute and flustered so you just give him a lil kiss or pat on the head and he goes completely silent and his eyes are literally sparkling with his love for you

no thoughts head empty except for his love for you <3

wonwoo is a big big BIG fan of quality time

he adores doing things with you, and he equally adores sharing space with you as you both do your respective things

if y'all are in the living room reading different books but cuddled together on the couch, wonwoo is genuinely in heaven

he also loves having you around while he games. like if you're in his vicinity he's so at peace even when his emotions are at an all-time high during the game

and he loves just hanging out while you're doing something you love !!

he simply loves your physical proximity (or digital if he's touring/you're traveling and y'all just facetime or call while doing your own things like cooking or working)

he will let you know when he wants your undivided attention though

often he will do this by biting your shoulder :,-)

you could be making tea in the kitchen and wonwoo will walk up and give you a backhug and gently bite your shoulder so you know that he wants you to look at him and talk to him i'm sobbing thinking about this

and he's so content talking about the smallest things with you :-(

after he bites your shoulder he hums "what're you doing?" and you know he knows what you're doing but you love him so much so you answer "i'm making tea"

he proceeds to ask you lil questions about your tea, your mood, what you plan to do while drinking your tea the correct answer is "hang out with you, wonwoo"

he could actually listen to you talk for hours i'm not even kidding

he's obsessed with the sound of your voice and all the idiosyncrasies in your speech, gestures, etc

he starts picking them up and seventeen is like ?? when did you start saying/doing that ??

and then they meet you and go OHHHHHHHHH that's what it was

after that they will point out every time he acts/speaks like you and he gets a lil embarrassed but also his heart swells because he loves that you've become such a huge part of him <33

he strikes me as the kind of guy who likes to listen to podcasts with you

hear me out

walking around outside, there's a breeze in the air, you're holding hands, sharing headphones, and listening to a podcast about your shared interests

someone hold me i'm having a breakdown

he's so good at comforting you

he becomes so in tune with your emotions that whenever you come to him sad/angry/stressed/etc he is ready

even if he doesn't know exactly what to say, he will listen to you and support you however you need

he'll hold your hands in his while you speak and maintain eye contact so you know you have his full attention

and whenever you cry he will gently wipe your tears away before grabbing tissues for you <3 and sitting with you while you settle yourself <3 and then he'll ask if you want water or anything to make you feel more at ease <3

he's also the absolute best at supporting you through all your successes

he is your BIGGEST fan

he'll always be proud of you and tells you that frequently because he thinks you're so amazing in whatever you do and he wants you to celebrate yourself as much as he celebrates you

he will be walking on cloud nine if you ever compliment a song/performance he's done

like if you like what he's doing that's more than enough for him to be satisfied with it

if he's ever insecure, you telling him all the wonderful things he does makes a world of difference

also so silly with you

he loves making comments that make you laugh

he gets the proudest smile on his face when he makes you laugh

he likes to whisper lil jokes or ad-libs to you when you're hanging out in a group

because he loves when you giggle or even laugh loudly at something he added to the conversation just for you

sometimes he'll make notes of a funny story or a joke he wants to tell you the next time he sees you :,-)

he also will keep notes (mentally or on his phone) of cool things he's learned so he can share them with you !!!

few things make him happier than the look on your face when he tells you something interesting <3

speaking of notes

wonwoo loves leaving handwritten ones for you

if he leaves before you wake up, he's putting a good morning note by your usual mug or your toothbrush so you see his encouraging message as soon as you start your day

if you're going to be apart for a while, he'll write longer notes or hide different little ones around your place so you can get surprise wonwoo words while he's away :-(

any notes you write him are kept safely with his things !!!

he keeps a special one in his wallet or phone case, so you are always with him and he takes it out and reads it when he misses you or is feeling sad even though he has it memorized

if you give him a gift based on the notes you two have written each other throughout your relationship, he WILL cry

he just loves sentiments like that <3 he's a sentimental guy and he likes to show you his love through things with meaning because he thinks it's the best way to convey how special you are to him

wonwoo loves you with everything he's got, and it's clear from the way he interacts with you on a daily basis that you are an important part of his life

no matter what, he's thinking of and caring for you because you make him feel so loved and cared for that he wants nothing more than to make you feel safe and adored <3

sorry i gotta go clutch my crocheted wonwoo plushie to my chest and cry because i love him so dearly :,-( i hope everyone gets the wonwoo they deserve <3

[martyrlamb]

✶  let the light in  /  leon kennedy

pairing:  leon kennedy x gn!reader

summary:  early mornings are hard and leon loves you.

tags:  sfw, fluff, a bit of angst when leon thinks about his life, no use of y/n, complete self indulgence i want to wake up next to him, cuddling, kissing, established relationship, any time period leon!!, leon being clingy and adorbs, leon is absolutely whipped for you

note:  ummm title based off the lana song. it’s so waking up and being all soft and cuddly in bed with ur s/o coded and i know leon is so clingy on the mornings he has off so that’s what i wrote :P enjoy

word count: 1.3k

He’s used to sleepless nights and early mornings.

Been used to them. Leon lived in a group home, kids got loud before breakfast—incessant laughter and whines of hunger he couldn’t tune out by smothering his ears in the fabric of his pillow. Training had a rigid schedule he couldn’t get past even if he tried. 

Falling asleep was harder than it looked, and he spent most nights staring at the back of his eyelids wishing he could fade away from consciousness. Every creak of the floorboards made him jolt and the wind that whistled through a crack in the window frame produced cold, clammy hands. 

When he did float off to dreamland, he usually didn’t last very long. 

The last few hairs on his dad’s head. A string of pearls snapped on the floor. His mom’s manicured hand, stained with blood. Every set of eyes he’s ever known going dull. Losing himself. Desperately—desperately holding onto something solid for dear life. It’s all there, and it plays over like freeze frames of a movie.

He pretends it doesn’t stick. There are no bad dreams he’s startled himself awake from, he doesn’t shake like the alley strays in the middle of winter under his blankets, his skin is not damp with sweat.

He knows the routine when he wakes up: lie there until he isn’t allowed anymore. Only, when he opens his eyes all heavy and groggy, unable to shake the itchy sleep deprivation from his tear ducts, he’s with you.

You, with that peaceful expression of yours while your head rests against the pillow. Your chest rises and falls in soft hills under the bit of blanket Leon hadn’t managed to steal during the night. He traces the bridge of your nose with the shadow of his finger; he thinks about counting the number of eyelashes that ring your pretty eyes so he never forgets the shape.

It’s tooth-achingly sappy, and it makes him feel like that giddy kid late for his first day as a police officer again. A little brighter, a little more saturated. Before he saw the worst parts of the world—at least on mornings like these.

Between work and the general hustle and bustle of life, he doesn’t get many of them. A crime, if you ask him.

Sunlight filters through the crack in the curtains that you picked out. It’s peering over the horizon and it beats down in streams on the bed and makes a silhouette of your face. You’re backlit like something angelic. God, he’s getting poetic but he can’t help it; you’re you and you’re in his life, so yeah, it’s innate in every way possible.

He takes it in: the birds chittering through the screen of the window that you always leave open an inch, the squeak of the old fan he pulled from storage as it oscillates, your warm skin against his. Leon’s room isn’t very picturesque (your doing; when he started seeing you, your things began to crop up everywhere and now they’re strewn about the apartment alternating: yours, his, yours, his.), but he thinks this morning could be put in the Louvre.

You stir in your sleep and Leon goes still, watching your breathing as it speeds up. He doesn’t want it to end yet.

Okay. Leon might be the villain for this, but he rolls right back over, partially on top of you, and puts his head on your chest with one of his arms draped over your stomach. When he hears the gentle thrum of your heartbeat, he shuts his eyes and pretends to sleep. 

Words that fade to nothing escape your mouth in a sigh as you squint yourself awake. He can picture the face you’re making right now: all bleary-eyed and softly disgruntled, the slight furrow of your brows as you regain consciousness. He’s seen it a thousand times, and he’s going to see it a million more if fate wills it. 

You struggle under his weight to check your phone and he can tell you’re moving as slow as possible so you don’t wake him. Something about no good deed going unpunished—he’s not planning on going anywhere anytime soon even if he could for the sake of your mobility. 

When you place your phone on the nightstand again, it’s a bit more aggressive, a bit rougher, and you grumble. Must be work. Your fingertips creep up and palm at Leon’s hair gently, an attempt to coax him awake that doesn’t work. His breathing stills, and he listens to you whisper his name sweetly into his ear.

“I know you’re up, Leon,” you mumble finally, he can hear the smile in your voice.

Damn, caught. He doesn’t budge. 

You continue, stroking his hair with one hand snaked behind his head. “I have to go to work.”

With his gig up, he merely buries his face in the crook of your neck and inhales like it would somehow attach you to him. The hairs on his arms rise when he catches the smell of your shampoo. You giggle and squirm under him from the sensation. His name falls from your lips in a playful complaint, dragging out the last syllable. 

Leon can feel the vibration of your throat and he smiles against your skin. Shhh… he thinks when he peppers kisses along your collarbone. You’re ticklish under his feather-light arsenal and you laugh, grabbing the sides of his face to tilt his head up slightly to look at you. Your hands are soft and warm and he could probably draw out your fingerprints from memory by now, but he still relishes the feeling like he’ll forget at any moment.

“I have to go,” you insist, your thumb strokes circles on his cheek when he starts on your waist. There’s no real urgency in your tone.

He groans and lets his head fall forward, forehead against your chin. “No.”

“You don’t know how much I want to stay.” Your reply is wistful; considerate—he’s got you right where he wants you.

“Then stay,” he mutters quietly, and he looks up, glancing at you through his lashes. Bingo. He watches your persistence dissolve on your tongue. 

“What about work?”

“Call in sick.”

You hum in response, a cute little tone that means nothing in the long run. Your mind is already made up, Leon can see it in your eyes, but you like to pretend to put up a fight for responsibility’s sake. 

“Oh, fine,” you finally reply and snatch your phone from the nightstand. It only takes a few minutes for you to finish tapping on the tiny keys and when you do, you discard it and rake your fingers through Leon’s hair.

The sensation of your nails against his scalp sends goosebumps down each column of his spine and he shuts his eyes, leaning his head on your shoulder. You simper when you say, “You’re a terrible influence.”

“I’ve been told.” It comes out more like a sigh.

You press a kiss to the crown of his head, a small, loving movement that might have brought him to tears a few years ago. It was so plain and domestic, a type of subtle affection he’d never had the privilege of experiencing until he met you. He thought it wasn’t real for the longest time, something of romance novels and shitty rom-coms, but you made it so easy. You made everything so easy.

He wraps his other arm around your waist and rolls both of you over, him on his back and you on top of him. You laugh his name, tangled in a mess of blankets and limbs as you wrap your arms around his neck. He presses a kiss to the crown of your head, now, and he hopes it feels the same for you as it did to him. 

A ray of sun beats against his eyelids, enveloping the darkness in an obnoxious white light. Bah. Leon can’t even find it in himself to complain; he loves you. He’s in this bed, and you’re in this bed and he loves you so much he can’t think of anything else. 

[01zfan]

number 45 | o. sh

volleyball player!shotaro x manager!reader | 5.4k words

anons who requested this. i am SO SORRY it took me so long to get to this. i had to channel my past in volleyball for this and find the motivation for it so i hope the quality and the length makes up for the wait!

contains: semi-public, hand stuff only, mentions of clothing being tight (???)

shotaro would’ve never thought he’d end up playing volleyball. as a child he liked watching basketball the most, and when he he was in middle school he played soccer. but one summer at a sleep-away camp he picked up a volleyball for the very first time. shotaro received so many compliments about how he was a natural that he decided to tryout for the team on a whim. he knew it was insane to go into tryouts for a sport he never played, that it was less than likely he would be selected for the team. but it turned out everyone was right, he did have a natural talent. it wasn’t long before shotaro was accepted, becoming the libero on the junior varsity team.

shotaro also didn’t think he’d stay with it. just like soccer he found himself hitting ruts that caused him to lose momentum. he had to learn a completely new sport, he had to learn how to go for passes with his hands and dig for balls by diving his body to the floor instead of using his legs. the frustration of moving his body differently manifested into him not caring for the sport. it wasn’t long before he was not giving his all at practice, only nodding his head or shrugging his shoulders when the coach would ask him what was happening.

he even considered quitting when the coach wouldn’t bench him at the games. he knew he couldn’t stop himself from doing his best during games, especially with his team counting on him. he reluctantly ended up doing the best he could, and as a result his team did the best they could too. by his sophomore year shotaro was on the varsity team, and by the time he graduated he was captain.

when shotaro came to college it was a completely different atmosphere. he was against people stronger and taller than him, and he was up against people who didn’t have anything but love and passion for the sport. after the first day of tryouts shotaro stayed behind long after everyone left, practicing the drills he messed up. he was in his own little world, sweat dripping from his brow as he wondered if volleyball was worth it anymore.

“the gym is closed.”

shotaro turned away from the net to follow the voice. he remembers your face, but the amount of names he heard that day made him forget. all shotaro knew was that you were the assistant student manager. he saw your duffle slung over your shoulder as you wiped sweat from your brow with the bottom of your shirt. 

“you’ll only hurt yourself at this point. try sleeping on it, the drills will come to you naturally.” you turned around to walk out of the gym, and shotaro was getting ready to resume his drills. you turned around again, hand on the strap of your bag as you got his attention again. “you’re shotaro right?” you asked.

shotaro was shocked that you remembered his name. he was one face out of the crowd of athletes. he doesn’t even remember if he had the chance to formally introduce himself to anyone before they started explaining the process of tryouts.

“yeah.” shotaro said.

”cool.” shotaro saw you look down at your feet, his eyes caught on the brace that was bound to your ankle and the small scar down your knee. “you’re really good. i hope you make the team.” you said.

shotaro could only nod, giving you a simple wave as you left the gym. he thought nothing about his performance was noteworthy, much less worthy of praise. but you seemed to mean it, and as you walked away shotaro took your words of advice seriously. he packed up shortly after you left, and he had a long nights rest to recuperate from all the exercise. 

he found out you were right when the drills came to him like second nature the next day. he saw you watching him a few times, giving him nods of approval and a thumbs up each time he caught your eye. shotaro found himself looking to you each time he did a perfect serve, or was able to get a ball that seemed unsalvageable. he found himself overhearing the pointers you’d give to everyone else, even if they didn’t apply to him. each time you gave him advice shotaro listened intently, blaming the heat he felt across his face on the strenuous workouts. 

at the end of the week when he made the team, you were the first person he looked for. in such a short time shotaro decided that you were his good luck charm and that he needed to let you know. he was quick asking for your number, hiding it under the guise of needing to have the student manager’s contact information. you gave it to him with a smile on your face, putting your name and number in his phone.

“i’m going to the dining hall after this.” you handed shotaro back his phone and he texted you so you could have his number too. “if you wanna come with.” you offered.

shotaro took you up on the offer a little too quickly. he sat with you and the rest of the team, sharing stories about volleyball before coming to college. shotaro saw you nod and smile, understanding all the nuances of what it was to be a volleyball player, but never sharing stories of your own. he knew not to ask about it, he had come to that conclusion after finding about your vast knowledge of the sport and seeing the scar on your knee.

you and shotaro had made fallen into your own post-practice routine. he would wait for you in the main gym while you finished your clerical duties at the end of the night, and you two would walk together to the dining hall. sometimes you would end up catching the rest of the team, but more often than not it would be just the two of you sitting in the booth of an emptying dining hall. you two talked about life back home, what you were planning to study, and everything in between. 

the friendship blossomed quickly, but the dynamic changed the more you two spent time together. shotaro went from sitting across from you in the booth to sliding in next to you, so close that your shoulders touched. you two went from saying goodbye outside of the dining hall to shotaro walking you to your dormitory. eventually he was holding your duffle bag for you on the walk over, and one day he finally got the courage to reach for your hand. 

by the middle of the season, you two were in a relationship. everyone on the team seemed to know before you guys did, some even bet on how long it would take before you two got together. you two kept your relationship out of practice. you didn’t hesitate to advise shotaro and you refused to hold back critiques relayed to you by the coach. 

he respected you for your professionalism and passion for the sport, he truly did. he loved how you cared for the team and managed the responsibilities of the job while also easing everyone else’s stress. shotaro and his team never had to worry about the logistics of practice, they never had to worry about the little things if you were there. shotaro always found himself puffing out his chest proudly when his teammates would praise your hard work or mention that they never had a student manager like you. so shotaro didn’t know why he would feel a pang of jealousy seeing the girlfriends of his teammates in the stands wearing their jerseys. 

he knew it was unfair to impose anything on you. shotaro was able to get your support constantly outside the context of games, so he didn’t know why he felt that way. sometimes all shotaro could think about during games or practice was seeing his player numbers across your chest. he thinks he would be unstoppable on the court if he saw it only once—he’d keep a picture of you in his mind like soldiers did of their wives back home before going to war. but he would never ask you to do anything that would show such blatant favoritism, even if he was your boyfriend and everyone knew it. he could also never bring himself to admit the primitive aspect of it all, that he would feel some sense of satisfaction seeing his number on your body. so because of that, shotaro simply kept it to himself. 

he had planned to never tell you about it, but it was hard to avoid the conversation when it was staring at him right in the face. 

it was another long practice, ending with you walking around the main gym looking for shotaro. you called out his name and texted his phone to see where he was. you knew that no one else was in the gym at this time, you had even seen the custodians leave for the night after cleaning the floors. you followed the sounds of the showers, standing outside as you called out your boyfriends name again.

“i’m in here.” he called back.

“i’ll wait outside!” you yelled, hoping your voice would carry over the sound of running water.

as soon as you were done speaking, you heard the water shut off.

“come in. it’s just me.” shotaro said.

instantly you shook your head, looking up to the camera that was pointing right at the entrance of the showers.

“i can’t. not allowed.” you said simply.

shotaro came from around the corner of the tile wall, only wearing a towel around his waist. he had another towel in his hands, running through the wet strands of his hair.

“if anyone asks, say you heard me slip and fall.” shotaro beckons to you, and your feet started moving on their own accord. “come in.” he smiled. 

shotaro lead you through the winding tile walls of the showers until you made it to the main dressing room. you set your duffle down beside the bench, sitting on the polished wood as shotaro finished getting ready. you looked up in the large mirror embedded into the wall in front of you to stare at him. the pale blue tiles went all the way up to the white ceiling. you counted them up and down, each time leading you back to the reflection of shotaro’s body in the fogging glass.

he pretended to not notice your stare as he took his towel off to dry the rest of his body. when he looked in the mirrors reflection and saw you look away quickly, his laugh filled the room.

“it’s nothing you haven’t seen before.” shotaro said.

you nodded your head sheepishly, still looking down at your feet. he wasn’t wrong, you had seen shotaro naked more times than you could count on your hands and feet. but it was different seeing him outside the privacy of your dorm rooms. you have never seen shotaro naked in a place that could easily be invaded. all it took was a straggler from practice or a custodian to catch you staring at your naked boyfriend. you only slightly settled down when you heard him pull up the pants to his tracksuit. when you looked back up to the mirror shotaro was putting on his shirt. 

he came behind you, looking at you in the mirror with a smile on his face. shotaro bent down and kissed the crown of your head. you tilted you head to look at him directly.

“how was practice for you?” you asked.

shotaro shrugged his shoulders, moving his hand to massage your neck. he continued looking in the mirror to stare at you, and when he got to a stubborn knot you let your head lull forward.

“it was good. i’m a little nervous for the game tomorrow.” shotaro answered.

you hummed sympathetically, pulling shotaro’s hands away. you guided him around the bench to stand in front of you. you were sincere as you spoke, holding his hands tightly.

“you’ll do great, i know you will.” you encouraged.

shotaro nodded his head, feeling the anxiety of the important match melt off of his shoulders. he already felt like he was on top of the world just by looking down at you. shotaro watched the serious look on your face change to a bright smile as you squeezed his hands again.

“i do have a surprise for you.” you excitedly waved his hands around. “it just came in today and i can’t wait.” you said.

shotaro couldn’t control his own smile. he thought about what you could possibly give him as he cocked his head to the side.

“and what is that?” he asked.

you guided his hands again until he was standing next to the bench opposite of you. you both moved to straddle the bench, and shotaro watched you look to your duffle bag before looking to him.

“close your eyes.” when shotaro’s eyes stayed on your duffle bag you stopped messing with the zipper. “taro i’m serious!” you laughed.

shotaro hesitated for a moment, but let his eyes close. he let his imagination run wild, trying to think what surprise was waiting for him in your duffle. he thought maybe it was his favorite snack, maybe it was a lucky pair of socks or a handwritten note. when shotaro thought he heard the sound of your clothes jostling he had to compose himself. he tried to beat the dirty thoughts away with a stick as he held onto the edges of the bench. he heard you curse under your breath a moment later. 

when everything was still in the room again, he stuck out a tongue to wet his lips.

“okay. open them.” you said hesitantly. 

shotaro wasn’t expecting to actually be surprised when he opened his eyes. his wildest imagination would’ve never been able to pluck the view he was blessed with down from his mind to place it right in front of him. he let out a sigh from the other side of the bench as he took all of you in. he got the perfect view from where he was. he was able to see the 45 of his jersey stretch across your chest and how the tight fabric rode up to reveal your stomach. shotaro couldn’t take his eyes off of you as you pulled at the end of the sleeves in efforts to make it fit right. 

“it’s a little snug.” your attempt to pull down the bottom of the shirt was futile. it rode back up immediately once you were done pinching the fabric. “i thought mens sizes were supposed to be bigger.” you said

shotaro still couldn’t take his eyes off of your chest as he shook his head. the primitive thoughts shotaro tried to keep at bay became barbaric as he watched the tight jersey material stick to you. when you crossed your arms to cover your chest shotaro’s hands went to your bicep, pushing them back to your sides.

“perfect fit.” shotaro spread his legs on either side of the bench further as he took his hands off your arms. “it’s a perfect fit. no reason to hide.” he said.

he watched you mesmerized as you continued to move in his jersey. your end of the bench felt like it was miles away the longer he looked at you on the other side. he reached out a hand to you, letting his palm drag across the polished wood as he pulled his hand back. shotaro was grateful you understood what he needed as you came forward, your hands gripping the edges of the bench. you brought your arms in to make your chest poke out more, trying to give him a show. his eyes ran over his numbers before he went to the shy smile on your face. shotaro mirrored your grin as he scooted forward closer to you. shotaro’s smile only got bigger as you two came closer and closer, by the time your face casted a shadow on his you could see his gleaming teeth. he only stopped smiling a moment before your lips touched his, biting them as he looked down to yours.

your kisses were light and soft, both of you tilting your heads to accommodate the other. one of shotaro’s hands came from behind him to go to your waist, and one of your hands let go of the bench to hold onto his face. you could feel the soft skin of shotaro’s cheek underneath your fingertips as you deepened the kiss. you held his head in place as you pushed your tongue past his lips. shotaro’s other hand went to your waist and he pulled you in closer, until you had to put your legs over his.

shotaro only brought you closer, and he moved towards you to cover the rest of the space. you could feel all of him press against you as one of his hands moved to your ass and the other moved to the small of your back. shotaro applied pressure, making your chest come closer to his as your hand that wasn’t on his face went to his shoulder. he was grabbing handfuls of you, kneading whatever part of your body he could get his hands on while your grip on his shoulder tightened. neither of you refused to pull away, only catching quick breaths in the seconds one of you would pull away to readjust. 

when you moaned into shotaro’s mouth he remembered where he was. he was supposed to be like you, taking his role on the team very seriously. he remembered that he shouldn’t be making out with you in a place where you two could so easily get caught. so he pulled away from you reluctantly, and moved a gentle hand to your shoulder to keep you from leaning forward again. your plump lips called to him, but he remained steady as he caught his breath.

“we could get caught.” shotaro said.

you only nodded your head, eyes wide as you tried catching your breath. shotaro nodded too, trying hard to not let his eyes wander back to his numbers across your chest. he still had a handful of your ass, and he could feel you arch your back in efforts to give him more. your hands that were still on shotaro’s face pulled him in, and he only resisted for a second before going back in. 

now it was you smiling against his lips, taking a deep breath in as you pulled on his bicep. shotaro’s hand went to your thigh as he lifted to get you completely on his lap. your hand on his face went to the nape of his neck before traveling up his scalp, reveling in the soft strands running through your fingers. when you pulled shotaro sighed, slipping his tongue further into your mouth.

you two were so caught up in the act of kissing that you forgot what always followed it. you were lost in how shotaro’s soft lips pressed into yours that you nearly gasped in his mouth feeling his dick pulse against you. he responded by only pulling you closer, and when your lips broke apart shotaro went to whatever part of your body he could reach. when you tilted your chin back he went to your jaw, traveling all the way down your neck until he got to what his jersey covered. shotaro pulled your hips down to his lap and he pushed into you when you pulled the hair at his scalp.

“you’re really hard right now.” you sighed.

“sorry.” shotaro said in between kisses. “you just look so perfect.”

“yeah?” you laughed, bringing your hands to shotaro’s face so he could look up at you. “i thought we could get caught?” you asked.

“i don’t remember saying that.” shotaro said.

you both let out quick chuckles and shotaro couldn’t stop thinking about how all of his restraint melted away feeling in your presence. it was a problem he was developing, even worse than his habit of not saying mine when going for a ball or cursing under his breath when a play wasn’t set up perfectly. he looked at the glint in your eyes and down to his number that was covered up by your two bodies pressing together. 

there are worse problems to have.

shotaro travels his hand up your thigh, watching the anticipation build behind your eyes as you preen into him. he messes with the fabric at the end of the shorts before pressing into you. you break eye contact to tilt your head back but shotaro’s eyes stay on you, how your neck bobs as you get the little relief. he feels himself becoming impatient at the sight, and he pulls your waist down with his other hand so you can feel all of him.

he repeats the action, just pressing into you and bringing your hips down to meet his each time you raise them. he can feel his dick pulsing in his pants, and shotaro almost sticks his own hand underneath his waistband to relieve the aching. but he doesn’t want to miss a single second of you getting teased as your eyebrows furrow from the almost pleasure.

“shotaro.” you sigh, looking up to the ceiling.

your own hand starts drifting down, taking the time to press into shotaro’s chest and stomach before you reach the pants of his tracksuit. you look down to shotaro when the thick band of fabric stays in your way, and he looks up at you with his eyes gleaming. his hand stops pressing into your heat to go up to your waistband. 

“mhm?” he hums.

neither of you say anything else as both of your hands move at the same time. you grab his dick and shotaro goes to your clit—not wasting any more time to tease. you both silently come to the conclusion you will have time for all the other stuff later, right now it was all about sated the desperation both of you felt until you were somewhere more private. 

shotaro knew he’d have to take his time with you in his dorm when he rubbed the first circle around your clit. instantly you were curling into him, muffling your tiny whimper into his shirt. shotaro knew he would be better composed later in the day, that he would be able to tease you or coo at the sounds you made into the fabric of his shirt instead of biting his lip to keep his own sounds at bay. he couldn’t help himself when you squeezed your hand around his dick just right, and when you had his name and number written all over you. 

the both of you were too reckless to start at a slow speed. when your hands went to eachother you both started fast, rushing through the motions as the last bit of your brains that were working told you that you had to be quick. so you quickly pumped shotaro’s dick until he was thrusting into your hand and he wasted no time teasing your clit until you were begging for his fingers. you both were messes for eachother in seconds, hands wedged between smushed bodies and shoved underneath clothes in shotaro’s team locker room. the novelty of it all would’ve made you both laugh if you weren’t so caught up in trying to feel everything.

shotaro felt the joking mood shift as you looked up to him. he could see the lights of the locker room reflect your glassy eyes, making it look like you had stars swimming in your irises. you were serious as you looked up to him, lips pouting as you spoke.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you said, looking straight into shotaro.

his fingers on your clit faltered at the sudden praise, only finding their tempo again when you bucked your hips and let out a small desperate sound.

“what?” shotaro asked, trying to keep up with your hand that tightened around his dick.

“you’re so good at volleyball.” you repeated.

you repeated the words without faltering, tilting your head. you could see the confusion written on his face, flickering between that and how his lips parted when you squeezed a little tighter. you leaned back to rest on your hand that wasn’t on shotaro, giving both of you enough room to move your hands faster. the new angle let you pull down shotaro’s sweats enough to see the tip of his dick peaking out past your hand.

“i know i said you could do whatever you want.” you pumped his dick faster, feeling him pulse in your hand each time you went back down from his tip. “but i wanted to die when you told me you were thinking of quitting.”

shotaro quickly changed the angling of his hand in your pants, making his palm face the ceiling so he could finger you and stimulate your clit at the same time. you closed your eyes from the change and let a tiny fuck slip past your lips before opening them again. you clenched around his fingers when shotaro licked his lips.

“why?” he asked weakly.

“because you’re such a good leader, even if you aren’t captain yet” you started swiveling your hips into his hand, chasing that feeling building in the pit of your stomach. “they couldn’t do it without you.” you whined.

shotaro found himself chasing after something else, and a different feeling erupted across his body hearing your praise. he didn’t know what to do with himself hearing the rushed compliments fall from your lips as he watched you try and fuck yourself on his fingers. shotaro came to the embarrassing realization that he didn’t need you to touch him anymore, he could fall apart just from watching you and hearing you talk to him.

“they’re more than capable.” shotaro bent his fingers inside of you, eyes already focused on your chest to watch it jolt in the confines of his jersey as your whole body twitched. “feels good?” he asked.

shotaro watched you lull forward, eyes lazily focused on him as you nodded your head. he could see you actively trying to remember what you were saying, swallowing as you prepped your shaky voice.

“eunseok would’ve never been able to fix his jump serve if you didn’t help him.” shotaro tried putting in a third finger, but when he saw you wince he pulled back. “and sungchan kept touching that fucking net until you scolded him.” you said.

shotaro could tell you were getting close by the way your words were turning into babbles and your hand on his dick was becoming more and more rushed. he watched you screw your eyes shut and when you opened them he could see the tears in the corner of your eyes as you tried to focus on his. shotaro kept his eyes open wide, trying to remember the sight when he tries out for captain. 

your walls closed around shotaro’s digits repeatedly, and he continued pumping his fingers in and out even if it felt like you were trying to suck him in. 

“you think i’m a good volleyball player?” shotaro asked the question just to see you pitifully nod your head.

“you’re the best.” you arched your back, and the new angle helped shotaro go deeper inside of you. “you’re my favorite.” you whimpered.

shotaro’s eyes were wide as he took in every word. your voice dripped with sincerity as you rushed through sentences. shotaro used one of his hands to trace the curve of your body, ending at the bottom of his jersey. he pulled on the material, bringing the pinched fabric down your torso until it was completely straight. shotaro felt a newfound pride in himself that materialized in his chest, trickling down like molten lava to his stomach. immediately when he let go the tight fabric clung to you like a second skin, riding up the same way it did before. shotaro ran a quick hand through his hair as he felt the excitement prickling across his body.

“i’m gonna cum.” shotaro said.

his voice was beginning to waiver, floating between grunts and prolonged sighs. you nodded your head again, pushing up from your other hand to focus. you squeezed shotaro’s tip, using his precum as lubricant for your ministrations. he jerked his hips up quickly, bunching his pants at his mid thigh to free the rest of his dick. you moaned at the sight, using your legs that were still on shotaro’s to bring your body closer to his.

shotaro wrapped his hand around your back, giving you stability and enough space to work your hands the same way. when he saw you bring the end of his jersey down shotaro couldn’t hold out any longer. he pressed his fingers into your side and he closed his eyes as relief washed over his body. you kept working your hand when shotaro stilled underneath you, and he heard more mumbled praises fell from your lips as his his dick twitched in your hand. he left out one final curse, leaning forward until his head rested on your shoulder.

when shotaro opened his eyes he saw his cum glide down your hand and his abs. he saw some of it on your stomach, dribbling down your body to seep into the fabric of your sweatpants. you looked down too, looking back up to shotaro with a hunger that made him almost ready to go again. 

before you could close the distance between your lips shotaro leaned forward, working still feeling the buzzing across his body as his lips ghosted over yours.

“i couldn’t have done it without you.” shotaro said it quietly, afraid that if he got any louder he would only moan. he took his fingers from your clenching heat to focus on your clit. “you’re my motivation to be in this stupid sport and the only reason i stayed.”

shotaro felt your legs shake over his and your hand moved from his dick to dig your nails into his stomach. shotaro flexed for you, hardening the muscle underneath his skin. he could feel the cum on your hand smear onto his stomach, warm and sticky as your grip on him changed.

“you close?” shotaro asked, readjusting his hand around your back.

“so close.” you whimpered. “just keep going.”

“okay baby.” shotaro’s hand across the small of your back pulled at you, making you lean forward into his chest. “moan into my shirt if you need to.” he whispered.

you nodded while pushing your hips forward trying to work with shotaro’s fingers. your entire body went tense, gripping shotaro’s shirt so hard the fabric wrinkled. your moans became whiny and you could feel shotaro nodding his head.

“i got you.” he whispered into your ear.

your full body shook around shotaro, and he continued to nod and keep the same speed. he could feel the same relief coming off you in waves, and shotaro let a finger run down your folds to gather your cum. he used that as extra lubrication on your clit, speeding up until you let out a shuddering breath. he didn’t stop until you started shaking your head against his chest and your hand on his abs clasped around his wrist. he still tried circling his hand, smiling as how you had to push yourself off his lap before you got overstimulated.

“baby.” shotaro breathed.

“mhm?” you hummed. 

you still leaned into his chest, and shotaro watched your back raise and lower as you tried catching your breath. he saw the small trace of tear tracks underneath your hooded eyes.

“did you mean all the stuff you said?” he asked.

you put your hands to his face as you nodded your head. shotaro leaned into your palms, and the need to be touched by you took over his mind again. 

“of course i did.” you bring shotaro forward to kiss his forehead. when you pulled back he saw the facetious smile on your face. “i would love to tell you more about it, actually.” you teased.

you and shotaro were tripping over eachother as you gathered your belongings. you readjusted your sweatpants and threw shotaro’s hoodie over his jersey. shotaro slung both of your duffles over his shoulder quickly. you moved in a haste, not looking back at the bench to see if you left a mess. shotaro didn’t turn around till he made it to the exit, peaking at you one last time with a joking smile on his face.

“just make sure the jersey stays on.” he laughed.

[simplyreveries]

I noticed that you opened the requests. I wanted to ask related to staff (separated) with mc/yuu who had daddy issues in their world and who sees them as a father figure

i love this sm,,,, TY<3

dire crowley

he is…. interesting- he does mean well but he just does a poor job executing that sometimes. he was never expecting to feel such a sense of protectiveness and being overly doting to you. it started when he couldn't help but feel pity for your own situation and watching you adjust to this world is tough.

you’ll find him randomly popping up out of nowhere in school and he’ll ask how you’re doing. a way as a check up on how you’re handling this world and school life so far, he’d tell you if you ask him. as soon as you ask him about home… "oh! is someone is calling me?" and just literally disappears.

In this case, I feel like his reluctance to figure out a way to bring you home stems from the fact that he really does care for you and doesn't want to lose that. so, let's just say, it'll take him awhile to figure that out. crowley seems to be trying to convince you how amazing, twisted wonderland really is! you could thrive and live so happily here! (minus the overblots… terrifying magic… creatures and more) he tells you how great it is for you already have a home, a whole dorm for yourself, as he’d say: “for i am so gracious!” that he’s done such a generous thing for you.

the first time you tried to give him a hug as thanks for something he was completely confused and didn't know how to react. he laughed and gave you the awkward pat on the back but once again, he means well i promise.

divus crewel

you have blatant favoritism from him… he seems a little less strict with you and if a student asks he’ll deny and tell them he doesn't do that or that he has to be since you’re not even from this world. he wouldn't expect you to know how to do certain things after all.

but still, ace and grim could groan because they got in trouble for forgetting homework or assignments but if you did he’d sigh and be like “bring it in tomorrow” and they are always so UPSET. it's also rare to get some compliments from him, but he seems to point out something well you did and give you a little “good improvement” and such. It's so obvious how he seems to care for you.

divus is literally the epitome of judgment when it comes to anyone having eyes for you or you tell him about even liking someone yourself… he is too protective and feels like any boy at this school is undeserving of you. he sees any attempt during class of one of them flirting or anything as them simply bothering you. If you mention someone like floyd he’d give you the most concerned look and be like “oh… him, how troublesome”. he doesn't really say what he thinks, unless you really ask for his opinion. he more so listens to you talk and he does genuinely try to give you some advice, even if it's a bit blunt.

mozus trein

now despite his strict and sternness, he can be a very calming person to be around and talk to. he will be pretty quiet, but he can become someone you just find if you need to talk as he listens and grades assignments, doing some work. if you really need to take your mind of certain worries and stresses, like finding a way back to your world- he'll offer you some tea and maybe even offer to play a game of chess with you (as he does with divus sometimes!)

trein is a father himself, he was very close to his daughters- so it actually is quite easy for him out of all of the staff members to develop a familial like relationship with. he enjoys having that feeling of looking after someone again and being someone, you could look up to in that sense. he would eventually notice that you do see him in such a way, he wouldn't say it, but it does warm his heart.

he'll let you play and pet lucius, it's just part of your special privileges. surprisingly, the cat likes you and always tries rubbing against you. since trein trusts you though, you will be given the duty to buy lucius cat toys from sams shop with money he gives you, he says its "in compensation" haha.

if you happen to be causing trouble with grim or some student in class, he'll scold you. but through it, he will remind and tell you he knows you're a good kid and doesn't want other bothersome students tarnishing your potential.

ashton vargas

oh poor you if you dread fitness or sports because he's always booming so loud, excited and pumped to get you involved more. even if you don't want to do something with others, he loves initiating one on one games with you and challenging you. he will not go easy though and laughs proudly whenever he wins. he'll still pat you on the back and tell you "nice job, kid!" or something of that sort. he's very supportive even if hes overly competitive at times.

sometimes you do have to hear his tangents on how he became so fit and strong... especially his "advice" on how great it is to consume raw eggs... this guy . he tries telling you it'd benefit you.

lowkey makes a big deal if you got hurt and needed to go to the infirmary. he always tries to keep a special eye on you in case and tries his absolute best to make sure you're alright. even after getting help, you needed from the nurse, still!!

sam

he tends to keep a watchful eye on you... he would much prefer and even offer, saying you'd be perfect to be working beside him at his shop. he wouldn't want you resorting or going somewhere like the mostro lounge really. but other than that, he is a very carefree guy who you could easily find yourself talking to about problems or issues you're having. his attitude and approach to things can be a good help.

also, if you're in general in need of something from his store, because you're extra special to him he'll sometimes just give you heavily discounted or even be like take it, ("it wasn't selling anyways"). hehe. he cares. especially when it comes to like snacks or food he'll have, he'll claim it's your "employee benefits!" if you're working there.

sam is pretty much in the loop with anything interesting happening at school or things he may have overheard from students. you can easily get gossip out of him, just saying. but sometimes that just turns him into trying to discreetly warn you about certain students at nrc.

[syluscore]

I'm a Loser, Baby

~loser, creep, disgusting, vile! König x fem! Reader~

Word count: 1103

Content warnings: harassment, cyber-bullying (digs at reader's personality, appearance, dead loved ones, and telling her to kill herself), stalking, nonconsensual touching(while sleeping), gross stuff (involving a toothbrush, silverware, and menstrual blood), male masturbation, fantasies about period sex, defiling corpse mention

!!!!!!STRICTLY 18+ BLOG! MINORS DNI!!!!!!!!

He’s obsessed with you and you never really pay attention to him. At first, you were intrigued by the giant masked man, but he’s so awkward and says the most unsettling things that you’re completely put off.  And it irritates the shit out of him.

It’s his personal mission to knock you down a few pegs. He starts anonymously bullying and harassing you. So many mean messages from random numbers and throwaway emails. You block every single one, but he always has more at the ready and makes more as needed. Apps such as TextNow have made this so much easier for him.

Fucking stupid. Useless woman. No one wants you around.

Ugliest thing I’ve ever seen.

No wonder you have no friends. Bet your family hates you too. 

Your laugh makes me gag and your teeth are disgusting. Cover your mouth, tramp.

I hope you hate yourself everyday, and if you ever forget, I’ll always be here to remind you. 

Ever thought of just killing yourself? Doing the world a fucking favor.

Your body is the most hideous thing I’ve ever seen. Seen whales built better than you.

If you blew your face off, you’d be a lot more attractive. 

If you hung yourself in front of everyone, they’d just watch. Wouldn’t even try to save you. Worthless.

Personality is about as good as unseasoned chicken. Waste of space.

You ever stared at your side profile? Obviously not since you haven’t killed yourself yet.

He finds people online to send you messages and even call you too. All he has to do is send a little money their way and your contact info, they do all the rest. 

He watches the light slowly fade from your eyes as the messages get more and more elaborate. People online can get really creative. When you change your number and make a second email, he chuckles to himself and immediately forwards them along. 

You’re in your head a lot more now. Not paying attention much to everyone around you, fucking up in training which only makes you feel worse. Gives him extra time to go through your things and watch you in your oblivious state.

You don’t notice the little chew marks on your toothbrush. Him sneaking into your bathroom at least twice a week to suck on the object while he jerks himself off into your skin. You set your dirty spoon in the sink and the second you’re gone, he’s sucking and licking on that too. Groaning knowing your saliva is inside of him.

It continues to escalate until he finds himself going through your things. All of your things. He rummages through your trash casually. Your bathroom trash isn’t safe from his dirty hands either. 

Your monthly cycle is his favorite. He’s always enjoyed the sight of blood and yours makes him fucking feral. He keeps himself from outright touching or tasting the blood, but when he finds a pair of blood stained panties that you couldn’t be bothered with trying to clean or keeping for another cycle, he loses his mind.

It’s probably one of his favorite keepsakes of all time. Using the piece of fabric as a fidget toy of sorts. Whenever he’s alone in his room, he has them in his hands just rubbing them between his large fingers. Jerking himself off with the blood stained fabric numerous times. Always wondering what it’d feel like to fuck you while you’re bleeding–how much blood would coat your thighs and his cock.

In a locked drawer in his own room, he has almost a shrine dedicated to you. Little things he’s stolen from you and so many pictures of you. All taken when you’re unaware of them. An obscene amount of them from when you’re sleeping. Of him touching you when you’re sleeping. Of his cock touching your face and hands when you’re sleeping.

One day he’s leaned back in a kitchen chair, arms crossed over his chest while he thinks of what to do to torment you next, when you walk in eyes bloodshot. Like you’d just been crying. Which you had been thanks to a really nice message getting under your skin. One about defiling your dead relative’s corpse because it’d be more desirable than you. 

König stares at you, not moving a muscle or making a sound. You avoid eye contact as you aimlessly stare in the fridge.

He finally speaks up. “Okay. What’s wrong?” You try to brush it off, telling him it’s nothing, but he keeps pressing. And soon tears are falling from your eyes again and it has his cock hardening in his pants. 

You spill your guts. The harassment. The constant texts and emails. The bullying. The threats. The thing about your loved ones corpse. And König silently listens until your sobs finally stop. 

“You know, I know some people who can deal with this sort of thing. Could make a couple calls and make this disappear.” He fails to mention it’s because he’d call off his specialized force of internet dickheads. 

“Oh,” you speak quietly. “You don’t have to do that. Just feeling sensitive today. I’m sure I’ll feel fine again tomorrow.” Right. Your period should be here within a couple of days. PMS will do that to you–it always does. Best time to pay his people a little extra to be extra mean and consistent. 

“No. I insist. You’re being harassed and that is unacceptable.”

Your eyes soften, your lip continuing to tremble as you finally meet his eyes. “You’d–why would you do that for me? You’re willing to do that for me?”

König just barely nods his head. “Of course.”

You let out a sigh and wipe your tears, smiling widely at him. It has him completely rethinking his motives. You’re the cutest thing he’s ever seen when smiling up at him like that. 

Before he can process it, you’re wrapping your arms tightly around his waist and nuzzling your face against his chest. “Thank you, König!” You say happily, having full faith in him that he’ll accomplish this for you. 

That’s when you feel it. His fully hard cock. Pressing into you. Not a weapon, not a phone. His erection. You slowly take a few steps back from him, a look of disgust on your face. You stare at him for a fat minute before turning on your heels, storming out of the room. But not before yelling, “Pig!”

König does a full 180. Goes from smirking under his mask, to rage filled eyes. Have it your way. His efforts will now double in fucking with you. Self-righteous little bitch. 

~masterlist~

consider supporting me on ko-fi

[genshin-scenarios]

the skip of a heart (lyney x reader)

Summary: Where you were picked as the volunteer of the magic show where things went Completely Wrong, Lyney is barely keeping it together during his trial. Thankfully, you return to the court safe and sound by the end.

Content warnings: Major spoilers for Fontaine's archon quest, Act 1. Do not read further if you don't want to get spoiled, this fic heavily references the main plot relating to Lyney. Angst, reader is fine but characters are going through it, thinking you might be dead.

Wordcount: 1733

Once upon a time, when Lyney was still telling himself that he simply wanted to befriend you, he’d invited you onstage during one of his magic shows and slipped a card into your pocket. You only noticed it after returning to your seat.

He made the card seem important enough that you’d stayed back to return it to him. Sly as Lyney was, he thanked you for being so vigilant before twirling said playing card between his fingers, only to turn into a Rainbow Rose.

You left the theater one rose richer and with butterflies in your stomach, not daring to touch your hair in case the flower he’d tucked behind your ear would fall out. You wonder what you looked like to Lyney in that moment, eyes wide and cheeks burning as he bore his gaze into you, watching for your reaction. 

He had the audacity to let his fingers linger against your face, hesitate, and then finally fall back to his side. He could tell himself that this was just a fleeting adoration, but deep down he knew his sister’s musings were right; he was a puppet that did not know how to attach his strings loosely. 

If he were to pick another that could move his heart, mind, or soul, it would be through meetings that made him smile like a fool until it was too late - tangled and inexplicably bound to an affection that was addictive as much as it was suffocating, after Lyney realized the extent of how much he’d grown to look forward to the next time he’d see you. If he went without it for too long, he might just forget how to breathe.

Breathe. He wills his hands from shaking, then crosses his arms when it doesn’t work. Lyney is trying his best to answer the officer’s questions, but the image of the water tank crashing onto the stage is seared into his mind.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. Their body wasn’t found. They aren’t dead. 

If it wasn’t for Lynette grabbing onto him as soon as they were escorted for the investigation, Lyney thinks he might’ve been petrified even longer on the spot. Then their enemies - whoever plotted to sabotage and frame them - would see him. See the fear in his eyes. See him go from a capable, untouchable magician to a child lost on a dark, dark night.

He thinks he might’ve gone numb; a delayed reaction with denial and a racing heart, and something like fear but worse tightening around his chest. No one can tell except for Lynette, who covers for him. Who holds his hand between them so they don’t tremble. Who tells him not to jump to conclusions because he is not in control of everything, and this is not his fault.

The officer thinks it's about the show. Some others might know you were acquainted with Lyney. Only his family knows that he’s in love.

He hates it. He hates it. He tries not to think about you because if he did, his mind is only going to spiral, and that wouldn’t help with finding you. He’s not allowed to partake in the investigation because he’s a suspect. He can only rely on the Traveler to figure it out.

Lyney wishes it was him instead of you. An unreasonable part of himself just wants to set the theater ablaze. He hates always being the one that’s left in the end, the room losing its audience members. Why is it always everyone else that’s taken instead of him? Why does he always chase after the trails left by villains with the weight of the world on his back, praying he can rescue his loved ones before it’s too late?

-

When you finally come to, you realize you’re in an attic above the stage.

After entering the box and having water fall on you, you were understandably panicked and made a noise loud enough to alert Lyney’s assistant. As the story goes, you put up a fight and managed to knock Cowell out by hitting an item against his head. And just as you managed to shove him back inside the box to make sure he didn’t come and attack you again, you were searching for a way out before touching something in the room that teleported you to a foreign space; dark and dusty and cramped, before a wave of nausea from the teleportation device hit you all of a sudden. The next thing you recall upon waking up is hearing voices from the floor underneath you, quiet and tense.

“Can anyone hear me?” You try calling out for the tenth time, knocking against the wooden ground in hopes that it could be audible by whoever’s on the other side. The most you managed to find in the darkness was a door on the ground, the bolts and handle rusted shut with age. There are some pamphlets of performances from very long ago and many cobwebs, meaning that this place had probably been abandoned years ago.

If it’s between your life or your dignity, you’d much rather live to see another day. Bracing yourself, you start shouting at the top of your lungs, occasionally knocking on the ground in hopes the ruckus will alert anyone.

The voices of two men start to float to your ears, to which you desperately pause and rush closer to the bolted door. 

“I could’ve sworn I heard something here.”

“It couldn’t be a hidden assassin, could it?”

“Hello?! I’m trapped up here!” You call out, feeling lightheaded from all the shouting. Your body is starting to give into the exhaustion of fighting off Cowell and finding yourself up here, but you pray the adrenaline lasts just long enough for you to be rescued. “I’m the volunteer from the stage! Cowell’s in the box, isn’t he? He was acting really suspicious earlier!”

A shuffle can be heard from below, closer now. With your heart in your throat, you continue so that they can follow your voice. “There’s a doorway here that’s been rusted shut. I can’t open it from my side!”

Finally, just below you, the male voices yell back. “...Found it! They’re here!”

“Please move away from the door! We’ll try to force it open. Demoiselle, please cover your ears.”

“Are you… Oh, be careful!”

With four resounding blasts, you can see the metal ridges of the door bend against the bullets’ force. Then, with a resounding kick, a claymore flies from below and stabs through the wood, followed by the glow of geo that demolishes it into nothing. 

Greeted by the sight of Navia and her attendants, you’ve never felt more glad to see another person.

-

In hindsight, you’re sure the sudden sounds of gunfire from the back of the theater must’ve been a shock to those overseeing Lyney and Lynette’s trial. But honestly, with all that they’ve been falsely accused of, you can only hope they find some entertainment value in your dramatic entrance. 

Though Navia was doing most of the talking, you explained what happened and the mysterious trinket that might’ve been an old and forgotten device (or escape route for Cowell, you had no clue) - all the while trying not to glance over at Lyney too much in case the court would take that as bias. 

When the proceedings finally end and you’re reeling in the post-trial emotions of how it went, what you didn’t expect was for Lyney to practically barrel into you once the officials were out of sight, arms wrapped around your shoulders and clutching onto you so tightly, it was as if he was afraid you might disappear again.

The moment you feel his warmth embrace you, the strong front you put up finally melts away as your legs weaken and exhaustion hits the both of you. Hiding in each other’s arms, you squeeze Lyney back just as tightly.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” Lyney can’t seem to stop repeating those words, hugging you even tighter. You run your fingers through his hair to calm him down. “I thought you were gone.”

“And leave you with a criminal crawling in your midst?” You reply softly, a weak smile on your lips as you pull away to look Lyney in the eyes. “I was more worried about what Cowell might be up to. It’s a good thing I wasn’t Fontaine-born, huh?”

“Don’t even joke about that.” He takes your hands in his, then reaches out to run them over your shoulders, and arms, lightly turning you around so that he could check over you. “Are you feeling okay? Do you have a headache? Fever?”

“You might be the one with the fever.” You place your hand on his forehead, watching him melt against you. It’s a little hotter than it should be, even with his pyro vision. “I’ll walk you and Lynette back, okay?” You plan to take care of them too, though Lynette might just appreciate a quiet teatime while her brother might be properly sick from worry. You haven’t seen him this disoriented before, too distracted for any semblance of his usual grandeur.

Though… From what you remember, you like this side of Lyney just as much, if not a little bit more. The side of him that’s just Lyney, behind the magic and charms worn on his sleeve. 

You make sure to be within Lyney’s line of sight while you’re at their home. While he doesn’t say it, you know it’s the next closest thing (other than physical contact) that reassures him you’re safe. So you and Lynette keep the door open while you prepare tea. And after Lyney’s recovered a little from sleeping, you spend the rest of the day just chatting and lounging around. 

Perhaps it’s because of the incident, but Lyney is a little clingier than usual. Within the safety of his own room, he tucks his head into the crook of your neck, arms hugging you from behind. You’re reading a book together, kind of. It’s your turn to grow sleepy after the long day with a human heater pressed against you, and Lyney’s more than happy to place a blanket over the both of you as you nap the evening away. 

You’ll be lucky if you can escape his arms the morning after. Lyney’s never been easy to wake up in the morning, especially if it’s to keep you in bed.

[shalotttower]

Hello!!! Could i maybe see some reader (maybe begrudgingly?) seeking comfort from L?

hi! this is probably not what you asked for, anon, because "seeking comfort" immediately had this interpretation in my head

but it is what it is

Title: Acclimatization Summary: Post-captivity, Reader struggles with the aftermath of L. Notes: yandere!L, L is dead, Watari is dead, past kidnapping, implied PTSD, paranoia.

You have a new habit now. An array of them, in fact, but this one stands out — staring at your phone screen until it goes dark before turning it on again.

Because it feels odd. The weight and shape, and texture; you grew unaccustomed to them during your time with L. So you keep turning it on and off, over and over, without any particular purpose other than just...looking.

The first few weeks you refused to touch it.

Maybe there's a chip inside that allows to watch you through the camera. Or a microphone that records every word you say. A transmitter that broadcasts your location. Those were the thoughts which came and went, present regardless of what you tried to do. They hovered near the periphery of your mind like bees around a flower garden and stung whenever something triggered them: the sound of shuffling footsteps passing by your door, the smell of fresh pastries, older men in formal suits.

Now you're better. Mostly.

Yesterday you went outside and even sat in the park for a bit.

The world seemed so vibrant. So crisp.

So vast, that fifteen minutes was all it took to exhaust you. You came back home, locked the door (all four locks, plus two chains), checked everything twice for no real reason other than making sure. Nothing has changed since your departure.

The curtains were still drawn shut. The air smelled of floor wash from the last cleaning. Your bedroom remained the same, with no signs of tampering.

Nothing was out of place, and yet there's a certain feeling you can't shake off ─ that someone has been here while you weren't around.

You know what it is, of course, this form of hypervigilance; you never were one prone to delusion, despite having an active imagination.

It's not going to vanish overnight, and will require therapy, coping mechanisms, and medication.

But it's okay.

You're okay.

And your new phone is just a phone.

---

Sometimes you think about him. Not always on purpose, and never in great detail, but it's hard to completely forget a person who squeezed himself in every single aspect of your life for two years, and even after that.

Because this apartment you live in isn't yours. You bought it on the money he left you.

This phone in your hands doesn't belong to you. You bought it on the money he left you.

Your clothes are new, your fridge is stocked full, the bills are paid, and it's all on the money he left you.

You wonder if he planned it from the very beginning. If he knew that it was going to be like that ─ him and Watari both gone, so abruptly and suddenly that you'll be left behind with nothing but questions which will never find answers.

That you will need footing after losing the ground beneath your feet ─ again ─ and having to adjust to the world around, again.

You wish to say that you don't need his money or anything else (he didn't leave anything else). That you are fine on your own without his help, but lying to yourself is pointless when the truth stares right in your face.

It took two months before you were able to go outside.

How long will it take to start looking for a job?

Another two?

A strange sort of comfort exists in knowing there's no pressing need for immediate income.

It's not the type of comfort you wish to have, but it's the only one you receive.

[visionsofmagic]

past lover, new era [liu kang • headcanon]

―✹ you're liu kang's past lover.

[mk1!liu kang, fluff, a bit spicy, past lover!reader, gn!reader, new era!reader, short (headcanon) + requested by anon! thank you for the request. ^^ have fun, hope you like it! “Do you write for Liu Kang MK1 version? I’d love to read any kind of headcanon about him that you’d offer if you do!!”

❦ being a past lover of liu kang comes with benefits and yet prices. there are many moments of love, affection, and passion you share with him but also, the dangerous side of it cannot be ignored; being the god of fire takes lots of attention after all. however, this never stops liu kang from protecting you at any cost without making you notice completely.

❦ since you don't know about being his past lover until he tells the story you had in the era he came from, you just find his focus and special attention on you a bit odd yet exciting at the same time because even after learning the truth, you can swear you will fall for this man in every universe and he will do the same; you're the most special person to him - his one and only.

❦ he will definitely train with you, giving you tips, abilities, and strength you can't imagine another one providing because he's so delicate with you; not hurting and not being so weak around you while training. he knows you're damn well strong - he remembers the times you kicked his ass countless times from where he came.

❦ he will try hard not to show he knows you from his past life but he simply can't control his desires when it comes to you, not when you sit right there and look at his frame with sparkling eyes. he remembers the promises you made - well, the one in his timeline but he bets you're all the same in every timeline - perfect from head to toe, inside to outside, in every aspect he can think.

he has thoughts of holding your hands, saying all the sweet things he couldn't say before, telling all about the truth, and not wanting to lose you once again. however, he can't, no, it's for you, and the timeline's good - for a moment at least until the events go crazy, out of his control.

❦ before telling you the timeline thing, how he is the one who created this era, he will make sure not to appear as a freak whenever he looks at you - watches you in other words 'cause he never is the man who can hold himself from looking at the person he wants to bend the whole timeline into their feet if they want to.

so, it's a bit weird at first times but you two start to get along, you stay beside him more than you do with others, helping him in every way you're able to, joking around him, acting as if he's not a god but only a mere human - like the one he was once, your best friend, and maybe even more.

❦ he will lecture you non-stop, can't help, he has to be sure you're safe and sound and he will always allow you to put your hands on his shoulders, smiling at him and saying everything is okay - is it? - he will think, then, he will forget about it all when he feels your lips on his cheek, a kind of warmness he feels only from you.

being his past lover comes with perks; touching him, kissing him, looking at him anytime you want to. he will try to hide the heat that rushes to his whole body, not the fire he has already, no, something different, something that burns him alive in a way that he wants it happening at a non-stop pace.

you will know your own effects on him, surprisingly, he's weaker and stronger at the same time - beside you.

❦ he will tell you about you to geras. he leaves some facts to only himself tho; how he can't control himself, how he wants to kiss you, hug you, tell to you that you can have him on his knees by simply saying it - how unfortunate he has duties.

he would choose you over the world, he believes, so maybe that's why raiden warned him to be careful while creating a new timeline - he doesn't care after a certain point: you kissing him.

❦ he will freeze for a moment, not comprehending what's happening but then, it will hit him; like a firework explodes in the night sky, all the memories will blow up inside his mind, flowing into his soul and heart.

he will not be able to move an inch but when you break the kiss, he will look into your eyes, seeing his own reflection in them mixed with sparkles and a bit of worry, he will not hold back anymore. he will take you by the waist, the other free hand finding your cheek, he will pull you to his arms, kissing your lips with such passion that you will lose your balance only to find it within him and his warm lips on you, "liu -"

❦ the kiss is the first one for you. for him, it will feel like a memory and yet a new adventure. it's the same - and different. he melts - you make him feel loved again without even knowing it. what a person you are, having him inside your arms long before knowing it.

❦ coming to his senses, he will stop his actions, leaving you dumbfounded for a moment before explaining everything, every detail to you because he can't do this to you - what was he thinking anyway? putting you in the new era's timeline and planning you will not fall for him? or worse, him falling in love with you all over again? how could you feel so same yet different, he can't tell.

❦ he expects you to hit him, reject him, or even leave him and all this behind. contrary to what he thinks, you nod, taking time to comprehend it entirely, and when you're ready to speak with him again, you give him a soft smile and say, "I fall for you every damn time then, huh?"

❦ he will smile too, 'cause you're still his one and only, a bit distinct yes, he doesn't mind - how he can? he doesn't want to waste another time to go nothing without you, all suffer, no, he chooses to be beside you this time and you beside him. what's the worst that could happen when he has you?

❦ after knowing you're aware of the condition you two are in, he will become more daring whenever you two have alone time, away from others and the whole world around you. he will look at you openly, not afraid to show his emotions, the love he has for you. he won't take his eyes from your frame the moment you enter his sight.

❦ he will put kisses on every part of your body that he wishes. will listen to cute little voices you make thanks to him, coming to his ears as the most beautiful melody he has ever heard. will allow you to kiss him back, out of nowhere, or just out of curiosity about how he will react to you. you have a special part in his life, you can do whatever you want to do with him.

❦ he will hug you so many times that you will leave tracking it down; from back when you can't hear him approaching and being surprised - ready to attack but calming down and smiling when you see his glowing eyes up close to your heated face, from front to let your hands find his wide shoulders - he loves to see your pretty face, from the waist when he sits and you stay between his inner thighs.

he will let you hug him in return, finding both peace and passion inside your embrace.

❦ he will go intimate when you want him to, he is a gentleman. will allow you to sit on his lap the moment you need to, hugging you from the back, he will lower your face down so that he can kiss your lips, lose himself in the taste of you. will, surely, touch delicate parts of your body, earning soft, low, and sometimes high moans from your pretty lips. will chuckle when he finds you entertaining, almost too weak around him.

"pretty," he will call you - oh, he will call you with lots of pet names; my love, my one and only, darlin', sweetheart, honey... gentle with you, as always. "you have no idea how pretty you look right now. I can spend my entire life only to look at this face of yours."

[carlsangel]

LUCKY

carl grimes x reader

(you’re immune.)

tags: angst but then fluff !

masterlist here!

When the apocalypse started you’d lost all your family and were on your own for what felt like ages but you eventually found someone who made you feel safe and her name was Natasha. She was a stranger but she used to be a mother and had lost her son at the start. She’d protected you like you were her own; like you were blood.

She was everything to you, but she left too soon. She was attacked by a walker and you did everything you could. You got bit in the process and got so choked up over the fact you knew you’d die within the next twenty four hours, you let Natasha get swarmed. You ran away as fast as you could, basically sobbing. That night after finding shelter you patiently waited for the infection to take over. You couldn’t take the easy way out, you were too scared. Nothing happened for about two days straight when you realized, you might’ve just been lucky.

Ever since Natasha, you swore to yourself you’d never let anyone you cared for die like that again and you’d make sure of it with your immunity. Granted you could still get ripped to shreds but you knew you’d never let it get that far. Not after seeing what happened to Natasha.

After that, you traveled long and far, eventually finding yourself at a large gated community with a sign at the front that read “Alexandria Safe Zone.” They had let you in very kindly. You struggled to bond with anyone there, most of them had been there since the start and never had true experience in the world around you. Except Carl.

He, to you, was the most normal of all of them; your definition of normal at least. He’d seen it all, his whole group did but he was different from his group. He’d grown up in the apocalypse just like you. It wasn’t just a part of your guys’ lives. It was all you could really remember. It almost makes you feel bad for his baby sister. She’d never know what the world was really like.

So you two grew closer. You’d go out into the woods to ensure you’d never forget. You read comics, listened to music, anything that you could think of. It never occurred to you that maybe you should tell him about your immunity. You hadn’t told anyone before and you knew if you kept bonding like you were then he’d figure it out himself. You didn’t want to take the risk of him telling someone else, you don’t know what would happen to you.

You tried to ignore the topic as much as possible, you only have ever worn long sleeves and did whatever you could to ensure they would never see it. Carl had just assumed you were mostly comfortable that way so he never mentioned it.

One morning the two of you decided to go out to the forest to read. Although you’d heard talks of a horde of walkers that were supposed to travel through that day, you didn’t really listen. The communities horde tracking system wasn’t always accurate as it would usually be a couple days ahead.

You guys walked through the forest, your hands interlocked as you looked for your spot. You approached your fallen log and you settle into the ground as Carl begins to dig through a large black box filled with anything to entertain you both. “What do you wanna read?” He asks, focused on rummaging through the pile of comics. “I’m fine with whatever. Maybe Deadpool if you want.” You reply, also digging through your bag for the pretzels you had packed for you two.

He finds the comic and sits back next to you and you lean into his shoulder while you read. You loved this, reading with him. His presence helped you forget everything you wanted to. Losing your family, watching Natasha die, getting bit. Everything washes away when you’re with him. You focus on the comic for a while until you heard the irritating noise of walkers nearby. You completely forgot the warnings you’d heard this morning.

The both of you stand up and Carl tosses the comic back in the box. You look around to see that there’s a small horde. On a regular day you would go hide in the hallowed tree trunk behind your log but the walkers had already noticed you. “Shit. We’re just gonna have to take them.” You tell him. He pulls his knife from his belt and you do the same, preparing for the next step.

You handle a few, unfortunately not quite easily. Some of the skulls weren’t too soft and also you got quite a bit of blood on you. You handled about six of them, Carl handled 9. There was one final walker that you handled before you two could take a breath. You turn to Carl with a content look, almost proud of the work you accomplished. He nods and you’re interrupted by another walker which seemingly came out of fucking nowhere.

The walker pushes into Carl and your immediate instinct is to pull it off of him. You grab the walker just below its neck and before you know it, its teeth plunge right into your forearm. You didn’t know it but Carl’s heart completely shattered. His eyes went wide and he helped get it off of you. Your knife shoves into its chin and it’s finally dead.

You let it fall to the floor and for some odd reason, tears begin to flow from your eyes. It was too close of a call but you’d survived, Carl had survived. You were relieved; relieved that you’d saved someone from the fate Natasha had faced.

“Y-you’re bit.” He mutters. You look to him and wipe your tears, smiling slightly. His eyebrows furrow in confusion. How could you be smiling? “Why…what’s there to smile about?” He asks, his voice still quiet. You roll your sleeve up from your other arm, showing your old bite wound. He steps closer to see it and he gently runs his fingers over it.

“I-I don’t understand how’s that…” His voice trails off and he looks back to you for any answers.

“It’s from a while ago. I’m immune. I know I should’ve told you earlier but I didn’t know how, I didn’t know what people would do to me.” He looks back down at your arm before his hands move up to your shoulders. “I would never do anything to hurt you…I wouldn’t let anyone do anything to you.” You nod knowingly and look back at the floor as your tears continue to flow. “Why are you crying? You’re gonna survive.” His hand moves up to wipe your tears off.

“I guess I was just scared of losing you.” You explain. He tilts your chin up to look at you before kissing your forehead, leaning his on yours afterwards.

“You’re not gonna lose me.”

a/n: yall it felt like going to WAR to get this shit out omg i literally couldn’t finish writing it for the life of me bc i’ve been soooo unmotivated BUT I FEEL BETTER NOWWW so i’m down to take even more requests i think i have one left in my inbox that will be worked on today and tmr and will probably be posted tmr :> THANK U ANON FOR THE REQUEST IT WAS PERFECT!!! (sorry for the ending being so shitty fhndnfnfnfn)