#Bashful gets sick often

[natolesims]

Winter's finally here

And so are the winter shenanigans. Bash is adjusting to his new life, and Ella keeps on working on her studies. She nailed her first term and we're proud.

[dragonji]

painstakingly forcing yourself to eat dry cereal piece by piece when ur sick just seems so Fitting. like u already feel like a wounded animal chewing on old cardboard and now thats ur reality too👍

[a-world-with0ut-dr34ms]

Your Touch

Ghost x Reader

Ghost likes getting his back rubbed at night.

SFW, Extreme Fluff, Back Rubs, Cuddles, Pre-established Relationship, Hurt and Comfort, Touch-Starved!Ghost, Ghost is soft and vulnerable in this, Drabble, Scarcely Proofread

How about some fluff amidst all the smut I've been working on. 💞

Masterlist

"I don't quite know how to ask this, but..."

Simon's eyes dipped down quickly from yours, back towards the ceiling, a sudden rush of shyness and vulnerability running through this large, deadly man like a tidal wave. Once a suitable amount of seconds had passed, he turned his body to face you, the entire bed shifting against his form and tugging at the covers.

"...Could you rub me?"

Your lips curve into a crooked and playful smile as you turn on the bed to face him, your hands resting comfortably sandwiched between your head and your pillow.

"Rub you?" You say, fingers playfully beginning to sift through the covers towards his lower half. "Your wish is my command, Si'."

Your hands have just reached the waistband of his sweatpants when you suddenly feel a strong grip gently take hold over your wrist.

You hesitate at first, immediately fearful that you've suddenly overstepped a boundary or done something wrong; since beginning your relationship with Simon, you've done the most to be respectful of his pace. If he wished you to stop then you would, no questions asked. But you catch his eyes -- dark brown orbs half-lidded and wavering. You knew this had been something else.

He could have you continue; go on with feeling your skin slide against his before you've found the better parts of him you'd been yearning for. Have your small fingers dance and tug at him until you've pulled the night-time exhaustion he'd been looking for out of him. He could have that happen and have no complaints at all. He knows he always could.

And yet he holds your hand back, keeping your touch as far away as his brooding gaze had suddenly become.

"Not that," he says. "Not tonight at least, love. I meant rub me like..."

Like the first night you ever rubbed him. A night spent longer than most together in bed wrapped in one another's arms. Your breathing was a soft tune his ears could follow along to as he rested, your arms better than any blanket he could have.

As he laid on top of you, an innocent gesture on his part, your hand slipped beneath his shirt. Before long he had felt your fingers softly glide over the most neglected parts of his back, tracing small lines and circles.

Touch never came gentle to Simon; it has always been a sick and harmful thing. To feel a touch now so sweet and with care, without even having to ask, the man had felt unworthy by nature. And mostly he had felt sorrow, in many degrees beyond its own self. 

If this is what a loving touch had truly felt like -- like safety and peace -- it turned his stomach at times to be aware that he never felt such a thing in his life until now. Not from anyone beyond his mother. A short-lived time that left as quickly as it remained. But nothing had been this. He knew that the moment he felt you.

He remembers not wanting that night to ever end. And he remembers how fast it had put him to sleep as well. Since that day he's silently enjoyed your hands running against him innocently, never quite finding the strength to ask you outright to do it more often until now. 

What had made tonight different, he couldn't say. But even now, with your hands in his, patiently listening to him, he just wanted you to touch him more. Extend your body out to him and remind him of his own humanity.

"I don't know how to describe it..." Simon says, though he'd partly been lying.  He could describe in full detail what he wanted if it didn't make him feel so frail doing so.

But you smile, seeing the bashful glint in his brown eyes and understanding the man's hesitancy to be more upfront. "I understand."

You slip your hand from him and gently curve it over his body beneath the covers, scooting your way over until your short arms finally manage to reach his back. 

Your fingers gently comb over his skin, grazing him faintly with your nails, as you've begun to let your hand trails up his spine from the lower half of his back all the way up to the base of his neck. You let your finger pass each link of his spine beneath his skin, feeling the goosebumps you had risen over his entire body. 

Simon lets out a gruff groan and sinks into your arms, letting his head begin to nuzzle into your chest, and giving you a better angle to rub him. "You're too good to me love," he says. 

His continued little adjustments only make you laugh. "It's the least I can do for you, Simon."

A/N: I'm participating in Kinktober somewhat, but I might mix in more fluff and angst pieces as well. Just to throw in some variety ^^

[the-s1lly-corner]

Wearing their jackets (slasher edition)

I need to write slasher stuff more.... I also need to watch scream like I said I would... and other films... but alas cotl rot is too strong

Characters: Jason, brahms, bubba, Thomas, Michael

Notes: reader is gn, cold weather baby!!, in Michael's bit yoy wear his coveralls because he refuses to throw a jacket over it

CWs: none

JASON

Built like a polar bear, he's so used to the cold that he just shrugs it off as he goes into the woods to get fire wood for you

Actually offers his jacket to you until he can get a fire started to keep you warm- he doesn't want you to get sick! Don't worry about him! Especially if this is zombie Jason, the cold doesn't really.. effect his undead body that much...

Doesn't mind it if you steal his jacket from him, he takes it as you being cold- but if you explain that it's partly because you miss him he feels.. bad.. he didn't mean to take so long in the woods he promises

Even if you said it jokingly he's going to do his best to make up for his brief absence

BUBBA

let me tell you, as someone who lives in texas: the winters get brutal. Incredibly cold, he's definitely got at least one coat somewhere... and even if he only had one he would let you take it

But... please stay close to him by the heater, he knows you probably want to go do something else with him but it's truly too cold to not be able to do much else without freezing in their old house- even worse if this takes place in their new home in the second film... underground

He thinks you look really cute in his coat and he tries to let you know that- hes... a little bashful but you think it's sweet

You both probably end up cuddling into one another under the coat together

THOMAS

Once more: texas gets incredibly cold in the winter depending on the time of year and where you are. He's got a coat somewhere

Not that that he really uses it, built like a polar bear like Jason. He tolerates cold pretty well, hardly seems phased by it.. he's so laser focused on his chores and work around the house that you often find him still working outside

And he's given his coat to you because you have a lower tolerance than him... maybe you can convince him to come snuggle with you under it? Maybe? He'd hate to leave his chores unfinished but he doesn't like saying no to you

Very heavy coat, very thick

MICHAEL

Completely unphased by the cold, he also doesn't have a jacket. The best you can do is take his coveralls when you FINALLY convince him to take them off so they can be washed

Does not like sharing his things, the likelihood of him humoring you after you put them in is low. May actually take them off of you himself... not incredibly rough but there's intention to yoink them back

If you're cold then go get a blanket or you're own jacket... why steal his things without asking?

It completely flies over his head that jacket (or rather clothing) stealing is common for couples

BRAHMS

Move over give him his sweater back he's FREEZING! If he needs to he's going to wear the sweater with you in it!

HATES the cold and he's going to make it everyone else's problem, please don't let him catch a fever reader! Please!

Fire place? Lit. Blankets? Gathered. Sweaters? Worn. You're more likely to see him leave the walls during the colder months so he can snag your body heat, too

Lets it go to his head if you let slip that you stole his sweater because you missed him... hes basically hovering over now- well, more than he did before

[barcaatthemoon]

fireball || alexia putellas x reader ||

Alexia learns firsthand why you don't drink often.

The shots that many bars in vacation areas gave were much bigger than the shots that you wereused to. Alexia had warned you of this several times, and yet, you still hadn't slowed down one bit. The two of you were still in Barcelona for the night, but she had indulged you in letting the two of you go to one of the places only tourists sought out. It was a bit gimmicky and most of the staff spoke primarily English. Alexia hated it, but you absolutely loved it.

"Ale, come dance with me!" Alexia stared at you skeptically. You could barely stand up straight, having nearly fallen twice as you tried to get another drink at the bar.

"One dance, and then we have to go amor," Alexia told you. You nodded, more than happy to leave with Alexia. However, you didn't realize that Alexia wasn't taking you home for the reasons that you wanted her to. She needed to get you in a bed for some sleep, but you could feel a subtle hum in between your legs as Alexia held you for the dance.

You tried and failed to dance on Alexia to seduce her, instead managing to nearly fall onto the ground. Alexia caught you and simply carried you out of the club. You would have normally protested, but you were more than enjoying the view of Alexia's ass as she carried you over her shoulder.

"You're so strong. Will you hold me up against the wall and fuck me?" you asked her. Alexia's jaw dropped at how nonchalantly you asked her that. You were definitely the bashful one in your relationship, often trying to bat Alexia away when she started kissing you in public. For you to just say that on a busy night street where anybody could hear was a sign that Alexia should have made you stop drinking an hour ago.

"Amor, you are very drunk. I would not feel right taking advantage of you in this state," Alexia told you as she helped you into the car. You whined and pouted, nearly on the verge of tears as you mumbled incoherently. Alexia sighed as she realized just how long of a night she was in with you. It wasn't often that you even drank a glass of wine with dinner, much less got drunk. She had learned on a trip with your national team that you were a legendary drunk, hundreds of stories coming from just a couple handfuls of nights.

Alexia thanks whatever powers in the universe she needed to that you willingly let her carry you inside. You seemed eager to get out of the car, and you managed to make the ride without getting sick. Alexia knew that it was only a matter of time, most of the alcohol you had been drinking was cheap and full of sugar. Still, you had enjoyed yourself, and that was the whole point of tonight. Alexia had given you the green light to do whatever you wanted, promising that she'd stay sober to take care of you.

"Ale, now that we're home, we can do shots!" you cheered. You made a beeline for the kitchen, but Alexia stopped you. She held onto your waist as she guided you to the couch to sit down.

"Wait here, I'll be right back," Alexia told you. You pouted, but sat there anyway. She grabbed a couple of snacks that she knew you liked whenever you'd been drinking and a bottle of water. It was a struggle to get you to drink the water, claiming that it would completely ruin your buzz.

"I can't believe that Alexia Putellas has regular chips. You always get on me for snacks," you pouted. Alexia sighed, not having the heart to tell you that she kept those around for you. You stayed on top of your fitness better than anybody Alexia had ever met, so she didn't see the harm in keeping a couple of little snacks for you around at her place. It had been early in your relationship when she asked if your snacks were approved by the nutritionist, long before she knew how hard you really worked.

"Maybe you're a bad influence," Alexia teased. That seemed to be the wrong move as your eyes began to well up with tears. Alexia quickly backtracked, but as she continued to talk, Alexia noticed that your attention was elsewhere. "Amor, you aren't getting sick are you?"

"I don't like this," you said as you pulled your top off. Alexia quickly covered her eyes, despite having openly stared as you got dressed earlier that day.

"Why are you undressing?" Alexia asked, slightly panicked.

"Because it's hot. And I'm hot. God, it's almost the winter, and I am baking Ale!" you exclaimed. Alexia rolled her eyes as she dropped her hand, unsurprised to see every bit of your clothing on the ground. "Let's go to bed."

"Are you just going to sleep naked?" You nodded as you stumbled your way towards Alexia's bedroom. Alexia followed you in and watched as you fumbled your way through your nighttime routine. Alexia tried to help where she could, but you were stubborn about doing it yourself. Alexia went through her own routine and found you asleep in bed by the time that she was halfway through the second step.

[moonchildstyles]

Ooooh I would love to see Prosecco h taking care of his pretty girl when she is sick :( and maybe she doesn’t tell him she’s sick but he finds out and is like 🥺

sooooo! I changed this just a little but I hope you still like it! thank you sm for requesting!!!!

wordcount: 7.5k

—————

(Y/N) smiled, listening back to the voicemail Harry left for her this morning. 

Those small gifts had become her favorite thing to wake up to, eager to hear his voice and know that he was thinking of her even when he had been in a rush to get to the office. More often than not, she was greeted with a stream of consciousness message about all of the things he was doing or needed to get done before he could head out, along with tender declarations that he would talk to her soon, and that she was on his mind. It was never anything particularly grand or cloyingly romantic, but (Y/N) saved every single one of them. Hearing his voice was a part of her morning routine now, she couldn't go without. 

Though she was just as in love with this recording as the others, there was a slight sticky quality to his voice this morning. It was extra thick, seemingly heavy on his tongue as if he had a stuffy nose. But, he didn't mention anything about feeling under the weather. 

She would have to check up on him later, she decided. Send him a text or call him on his lunch to make sure it wasn't anything more than allergies or those cold symptoms that seemed to pop up in the morning before a cup of coffee could flush out his sinuses. 

Once the voicemail ended, Harry finishing with a small "I love you", (Y/N) pulled the phone from her ear, scanning through the rest of the notifications she ignored in favor of hearing his voice. There was nothing more to read than a couple of flags reminding her the schedule she had input on her phone and some social media messages from the girls she was growing closer to from her classes. 

Bypassing those minute messages, she pulled up Harry's contact thread. Typing out a message, she reveled in the soft cushioning of her bed with her boyfriend on her mind. 

     i just listened to ur voicemail🤍 i hope ur day gets less busy but I love u too soooo much 

     also it sounded like u were a little sick over the phone are u okay?:( 

Starting her day slowly, (Y/N) took her time getting ready, checking her phone here and there in hopes of receiving a response from Harry. It wasn't until she had a cardigan draped over her shoulders and bag on her shoulder, walking out the door, that her phone vibrated. 

Though she knew that Harry would scold her if he saw how distracted she was crossing the parking lot to her car, phone in hand, she didn't really care. Especially when it was his notification that she was enamored with. 

H🤍       My day's already getting better since hearing from you, love. Would it be alright if I call you on my lunch? I miss you. 

      No, I'm not sick, just allergies. Thank you for checking on me🩷

Her heart bubbled in her chest as she climbed into her car, a bashful grin splitting her cheeks. She could hear his messages in his voice, lingering over the soft sentiment that he missed her. Before pulling out of the parking lot she made sure to let him know that she was more than okay with him giving her a call later, attaching multiple hearts and kisses to the text. 

She hoped she made him smile like he did for her. 

—————

Blindly reaching for her phone to cancel her alarm, (Y/N) barely cracked her eyes open when she brought the device to her face. The time blinked up top, an early class alarm having pulled her from her dreams. Thursdays were always the worst day of the week in her eyes; she had to wake up extra early, wait around on campus after her morning classes ended because the hour-long gap between her afternoon courses was too short to head home, and most of her deadlines were set for 11:59pm that night. She dreaded starting her day when it came to Thursdays. 

Allowing herself a moment of reprieve, taking an extra long blink of her eyes, (Y/N) finally sat up with the motivating thought of seeing what Harry had left her in his voicemail. 

Blinking the sleep from her gaze, she swiped through her phone with sleep-shaky fingers. She absently pulled up her call log, expecting to see a missed call from Harry, attached with a voicemail to start her day with. 

When there was no red bubble denoting a notification or a text message informing her of a missed voicemail, (Y/N) blinked extra hard in hopes of clearing her vision. When she recovered, coming to her senses more and more, there was still nothing to be seen. 

Harry hadn't called her. 

A pout formed on her lips. He never missed calling her in the morning. Since this had become a regular thing, there was never a morning Harry missed greeting her, starting both of their days off with a sweet message. She hoped he was alright. 

Pulling up his text thread, she typed out a quick message.

       good morning honey ! are you doing okay? i didn't get a voicemail from u so I wanted to make sure !! miss and love u so much call me when you can:))))) 

When the receipts didn't quickly change to read, she took in a sigh. While it wasn't like him, there was a possibility that he woke up too late in the morning to give her a call like usual and didn't have time. There was always the chance that he had taken a late night hours before, working hard and allowing him to lie in this morning. 

(Y/N) was willing to convince herself of either scenario, pushing her imagination along with the terrible ideas sprouting. She just hoped he was okay.

—————

Sitting in the quad, breathing in the first airs of autumn with her headphones covering her ears, (Y/N) didn't rush away from her textbook when she felt her phone vibrate. Finishing off her notes, she waited a moment longer, rereading what she had transcribed before plucking up her phone. The name on her notification had her heart skipping a beat

H🤍

     Sorry, sweetheart. I woke up late this morning, and have been rushing around the offie all day. I didn't mean to ignore you, I'm so so sorry. Maybe I can call you tonight, on my way home? Love you so much.

Her lashes fluttered as she blinked, reading over his message. Honestly, a chunk of worry she hadn't realized she had been holding onto evaporated. The reassurance that he was okay, and none of the haywire scenarios that she had forced to the back of her mind had even been a little true, was freeing. He was just having a Thursday, just like she was. 

      don't be sorry im just happy youre okay!!! im sorry youre having a rough day:( is there anything i can do to help?????

      yes yes please call me later:( I miss you:(

      love you moooooooore :)  

The time between the moment she had sent off her last message to the receipts flipping from delivered to read was almost instantaneous. The three grey dots popped up on the side of her screen just after. 

H🤍

        You don't need to do anything for me, sweetheart, you're already helping. My afternoon is going to be busy, but I should be out of here around the normal time so I'll call you around then. I miss you too.

       It didn't feel right not to call you this morning, but I didn't have time. I think it threw me off. 

       Love you most:)

Laying back on the grass, music still fluttering through her speakers, (Y/N) smiled up at her phone as she held it over her face. It was always especially cute when he would add little emoticons or emojis to his messages. 

     i missed hearing u this morning too but its okay !!!! don't stress urself out too much this afternoon though just call me when you can  🩷🩷🩷🩷

     i have to get to class now but ill talk to you later :)))) 

Harry's response came in the form of a string of hearts being sent her way, the messages making her smile before she pocketed her phone. Now that the anxious urgency she had before was now melted away, she took her time gathering her things and heading towards her next class. 

Everything was turning up, she decided. Thursday was almost over, Harry was okay, and she now could look forward to a phone call from him this evening. 

All she had to do was get through this final class.

—————

"Hi, honey," (Y/N) smiled, pressing her phone to her ear as soon as she saw the call blinking across the screen.

On the other line, there was a slight rustle. "Hi, love," Harry finally murmured, his breath coming out heavy, "What are you doing?" 

"Nothing," she sang, closing her laptop lid in favor of focusing on Harry, "Just waiting for you. Did you just get home?" 

"Yeah," he sighed once more, "Been a long day. Sorry to keep you waiting." 

(Y/N) shook her head even though she was well aware of the fact he couldn't see her. "Don't be sorry, H, stop. I'm sorry you had a bad day, what happened?" 

Before he could answer, a rattling cough was heard over the receiver. Harry seemingly pulled the phone away from himself, the sound growing more distant before he returned a beat later. "Sorry, I jus—" 

"Are you getting sick?" She didn't quite believe his explanation of allergies anymore. 

"No, love," Harry muttered, his voice suddenly sounding thicker than (Y/N) remembered, a sniffle of his nose sounding a moment later. "I've jus' had a long day is all. 'M a little run down." 

That didn't ease her any. (Y/N)'s lips thinned, a pinch appearing in between her brows. "It's okay if you're getting sick, H. I'm worried you're not taking care of yourself." 

"'S not like that, sweetheart, I promise. After I get through tomorrow, everything will calm down and I'll be fine. Don't worry over me, okay?" 

Every word that fell from his lips sounded less and less convincing. He definitely sounded sick with the way he gummed around his words through a thick throat, his breathing coming a bit heavier as if he couldn't breathe through his nose, and his reassurances sounded exactly like someone who was getting sick but didn't want to admit it would say. 

Harry took her silence for exactly what it was: her disbelief. "(Y/N), love, I really am jus' tired. Thank you for worrying about me, but y'don't have to. 'M alright." 

She swallowed. She supposed he really could be experiencing those cold symptoms for no other reason than the fact that he's tired, and has been going through a couple of long nights. With the weekend coming up, she too could argue that she wasn't feeling well enough to finish out her week, for no other reason than she would prefer to sleep in and do nothing instead of attending class. 

"Okay," she relented, "Sorry to interrogate you, I've just never heard you sound like this before." 

"I know, 's okay. But I promise I'm alright. I still need to take you to the aquarium this weekend, remember?" 

(Y/N) immediately brightened up at the reminder of their weekend plans. "Yeah, so you better not be sick then. I have to see the sharks." 

"Trust me, I know. You've said that almost every day since we booked the tickets." His voice took on a faux-exasperated tone, as if he couldn't wait to be done with their plans for no other reason than she would stop bringing them up.

A peal of laughter left her lips as she curled up on her couch, getting more comfortable now that she was talking with him. "You're so mean," she bubbled, "This is what I get for worrying about you? Maybe you should be sick and I'll just go alone." 

"As if you'd drive yourself there." 

Yeah, he was definitely feeling fine.

—————

While she was disappointed, (Y/N) wasn't surprised to see the lack of voicemail left for her when she rolled over on Friday morning. On the phone the night before, Harry had told her that he had another early morning coming, and it wasn't a secret just how rundown he was feeling. She had hoped, in the back of her mind, that he could be feeling well enough to send her a message in the morning anyway, but she couldn't blame him for opting to sleep a little bit longer before heading out the door. 

Nonetheless, she still sent him his own good morning text, hoping it would brighten his day and remind him that it was finally Friday. He'd made it through the week and could now look forward to their plans. 

      morning honey!! i hope you have a better day but its friday!!!! we get to see each other tomorrow!!!!! text me when you can love uuuuuuu

Setting her phone on her nightstand, she proceeded to start her own day. Maybe, on the way to campus, she'd stop and get herself a matcha latte. It really had been a long week.

—————

     just went to study in the quad and it started raining AS SOON as I sat down:( I had to run and take all my stuff back to my car:( and I think I forgot my favorite pen on accident :( 

Pressing send, (Y/N) added her new lunchtime message to the string of blue messages she'd already sent that had gone unanswered. Even the read receipts hadn't flipped to anything other than delivered since her morning text hours ago. Of course there had been times where he hadn't gotten back to her by the time she had sent another text, as well as the other way around, this was just slightly out of the range of normal. 

Being with him for almost a year allowed her to learn some of his schedule. She knew what his day to day must look like, just from the fact that he usually texted her, called her, or made plans around certain times of the day. It wasn't hard to pick up on the fact that around eleven-thirty he took a small break from his morning paperwork because that was when he would send her a message if he could. His lunch was always placed around twelve to one, something she learned because that was when he would ask if she wanted to come visit him, or he'd place a call to her while he ate. He left the office at the same time everyday, sometimes a little earlier and sometimes a little later. 

With the time blinking past one-thirty with no phone call, text, or even the reading of her messages, (Y/N) didn't want to be worried but she was. 

There were so many things that could have gone wrong, she figured. Her list of scenarios started with his phone breaking beyond repair, and ended with her sitting in a hospital waiting room. More than half of her worries were irrational, but that was unfortunately how her brain operated at times.

Without second guessing, (Y/N) pulled up Harry's contact before pressing the call button. As it rang and rang, she knew what the outcome was going to bet but she still hung on to the final trilling noise until it finally ended. The generic voicemail greeting played in her ear before she tapped the red end button. 

Rationalizing herself, (Y/N) had to remember the way he had talked about how busy today was going to be for him. This week was all about prepping for a large conference meeting that would be taking place on Monday, including hours of paperwork, presentation reviews, and running in and out of meetings with other executives. While she thought she knew his day-to-day schedule rather well, that didn't mean that day like this wouldn't force him to deter. It was more than just a possibility that he really was that busy that he wouldn't be able to get back to her before he left the office. 

He would call her when he could. 

—————

      goodnight! i hope youre okay honey just text me when you can

      I love u 

(Y/N) wasn't even sure how long she looked at her phone screen, waiting for the receipts to change when she sent her final message for the day. The thread consisted of blue messages she had sent through the day, no response in between. Her call log had three unanswered calls on the list, all outgoing to Harry. 

It wasn't until six p.m. rolled around without a single response from him that she was unable to fight back the worst case scenarios she had rolling around her head. This just wasn't like him. He never stayed that late at the office. There was no way that through over twelve hours, that he didn't have a single second to even react to one of her texts, even just a short one telling her that he was okay but would be staying late. 

Dropping the phone to fall in her sheets, her hands limp at her side, (Y/N) stared up at the ceiling. Something was wrong. Even if all it came down to was that he was so overworked that he fell asleep as soon as he made it home, that thought didn't exactly soothe her. It was scary thinking that something could have been so intense—work, meetings, preparations for the following week—that he didn't even have the mind to text her during his lunch. She just hoped he was alright. 

She'd give it until the morning, she decided. Sunday was their aquarium date, and if she didn't hear from him by lunchtime tomorrow, then she was going to go to his apartment and see what was going on. 

(In a very small part of her mind, a place she had shoved to the very back after everything with Andrew and Iris had been flushed away, she had the insecure thought that he could possibly, maybe, perhaps be ghosting her. While she could never imagine Harry, the king of communication, to go the route of ignoring her as a breakup option, that logic didn't necessarily win out against irrational insecurity). 

Hopefully, giving him the night to rest and recuperate would be exactly what he needed, allowing him to get back on his feet tomorrow and reach out to her with everything she missed the day before. 

Now, she just needed to figure out how she was going to get to sleep. 

—————

There was no way she was going to get to sleep tonight. 

Her brain was too preoccupied to settle, that much was apparent. She pretended as if she wasn't waiting for a notification to vibrate her phone with the way she picked up the book she was borrowing from Harry, barely reading any of the pages. She scrolled through her socials, distracting herself with videos and posts or whatever was fed to her to keep her from pulling down the top bar and checking for any messages she could have blinked through. More than once during her attempts at staying away from her phone, rolling away from her night stand and nestling into the sheets, she reached for it anyway. 

This cyclical routine led her to stare up at the ceiling at one in the morning, phone at her side lest she get a message and not hear the buzz for whatever reason. 

The later the hours got, the more her brain went wild. What if something happened and no one knew to contact her? What if he was really trying to break up with her through ghosting? What if no one even knew he was hurt in the first place and Harry was alone, scared? What if, what if, what if.

Throwing her comforter off her body, (Y/N) sat up in haste. She fit her phone into the pocket of her sweatpants before she was trekking through her apartment, heading to her kitchen. Flicking on the light, she stalked towards her cabinets as if she wasn't itching to grab her phone. Pulling out a glass, she filled it with water and took a long sip. Hoping the cold temperature would soothe her brain and settle the unease in her stomach, she stayed in her kitchen, leaning up against her oven, as she drained the glass. 

When there was nothing left in the glass aside from a few drops and her anxiety was still flitting through her veins, (Y/N) felt restless. 

What else was there to do? There was no way to fix this problem, but she couldn't see herself getting over it enough to actually get any rest. Her body had convinced herself something was wrong even if she tried to reason with herself otherwise. There was no way she was going to be able to beat out the quivering her stomach and rattling of her brain with logic. 

Pulling her phone from her pocket, she checked once more for a notification that wasn't there. Swiping through to the text thread itself, she saw it was still the same string of unanswered blue texts sitting in the black void. 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she shifted her weight where she stood. 

Would she be crazy to even consider going to his house right now? 

She, unfortunately, couldn't stray her mind very far from the awful possibility that something could have happened, that Harry could be needing someone, and that was why he hadn't been able to contact her. It was a completely irrational, worst-case-scenario mindset, but one that couldn't be tamped down for very long.

(Y/N) just wanted to make sure he was alright.

That was all she could think of when she pushed off of the counter, heading towards her bedroom with a purpose. She tugged on a heavy hoodie, the oversized shape blending with her sweatpants, before she slid on a pair of slippers. She pulled her hair out of her face into a messy twist, chunky clip on the back of her head. Grabbing her keys and bag, she didn't give herself enough time to second-guess anything before she was beelining towards the front door. 

By the time she made it to her car, key in the engine and dash lights illuminating the space, (Y/N) was convinced she'd lost it. 

Nonetheless, she backed out of her space and started towards Harry's home.

—————

Using the key Harry had given her months back, (Y/N) let herself into his house. The lights were off throughout the space. His shoes were in a neat line along the wall, his jacket carefully hung up, and his work bag set up by the door like usual. Everything was immaculately perfect, as if he took his time and didn't rush a single step. (Y/N) rolled her lips between her teeth. 

She set her bag down by his, kicked her slippers off the same, before peering around the living room. His kitchen was clean as far as she could tell, no crumbs or even takeout containers on the counters. 

Her stomach sunk as she scaled his stairs. She was officially acting insane, wasn't she? Harry was obviously fine, and she just couldn't let him have a day to himself, could she? This is what happens when she obsesses over things, she ends up looking like a fool, and it—

(Y/N) stopped in her tracks as she stepped into Harry's room, the door having been cracked before. 

In his bed, Harry was curled up in a bundle of wrinkled sheets. Large comforters were draped over his form with more sitting on the end of the bed. A sliver of his face could be seen, his brows furrowed in distress with his forehead shimmering with sweat. The lump of bedding shook as he shivered underneath the mountain of down. Did he know his teeth were chattering? Did he know he was making these slight whimper tones? 

With her concern skyrocketing, (Y/N) crossed the space to his bed in quick strides. Up close, she could see the flush on his cheeks, the dry skin of his lips, the way he had his arms bundled over his chest as if he was still freezing under all the blankets and the hoodie he had on. 

And he said he wasn't feeling sick. 

"Harry?" she murmured, crawling onto his bed as she reached to place a hand on his forehead. She cringed at the feel of the damp skin, too hot to be healthy. He didn't even stir at her disturbance. "Harry?" 

In a fluttering blink, Harry suddenly woke up, a hurried gasp filling his lungs. It took a moment for him to catch his bearings, his eyes darting around the space before they settled on her. His gaze was bleary, unfocussed as he attempted to take her in.

"(Y/N)?" he croaked, voice crackling and dry. 

No wonder he couldn't call her, he barely had a voice. (Y/N)'s heart cracked just a bit as she looked at him, settling on his bed with her legs folding up underneath her. 

"Hi," she smiled at him, hoping to soothe him just a little, "I thought you said you weren't getting sick remember?" 

"Yeah," he answered in a breath, his eyelids going heavy once more as he sunk into the bedding, "I don't want to be sick." 

"I know," she murmured, "But it's going to be okay, we'll get you better again." 

A slight curl landed on his lips as she spoke. "Are you staying?" 

"Of course, I am," she promised, running a hand through his hair, pushing the strands off of his forehead. Harry happily pressed into her hand, seeking out her warmth as another shiver wracked through his system. As sweet as she thought it was, she was less than impressed with just how intense his fever was. "When was the last time you took medicine?" 

"I don't know," he mumbled, voice thick as his eyes shuttered closed, "I don't know if I have any." 

"Harry, you're joking." He had to be, really. There was no way that her responsible Harry didn't have any kind of cold medicine at his disposal. 

A smile once more tugged at the corners of his lips. "Maybe," he shrugged, "I can't remember." 

(Y/N) sighed, knowing she was going to have to ransack his house and try to find any kind of medicine she could get him to take when he was a little more lucid. Until then, she was going to start small. 

"Have you been drinking water?" 

"Don't know." 

Harry shivered as she looked towards his bedside table, finding not even a half finished glass of water waiting. She had reason to assume that he hadn't been lucid enough to even remember to hydrate during this whole thing. 

"(Y/N)?" Harry crooned, voice too thick to be comfortable. 

"Hm?" she hummed, carding her fingers through his hair once more. 

Keening into her touch, he spoke with his eyes closed. "I'm tired." 

"I know," she murmured, brows pinching when another shiver wracks his body, "You can sleep, honey. I'll find some medicine for you, and everything when you wake up, okay?" 

"Okay," he sighed, completely compliant to whatever she had to say. Shifting under her palm, he turned his head until her palm was grazing the planes of his face. He puckered his lips and pressed a soft kiss to her palm. "I missed you." 

"I missed you, too, honey." 

She watched as a sleepy smile bloomed on his features before he sunk into his pillow, heavy blankets set on his form. He was out, just like that. 

Watching over him, (Y/N) felt a guilty sense of relief as she saw a shiver roll down his spine. She didn't like seeing him so down, obviously out of it with fever chills going through his body, but this was a decidedly nicer outcome than the panic scenarios she had swirling through her head. 

Giving him one more pass of her fingers through his hair, she backed off his bed. She doubted he would be sleeping very soundly, so she didn't have much time to go through and find all of the things he would need to get him through the night. 

His bedroom door was left cracked open as she padded through his home. There was no way he didn't have any medicine laying around, she was sure of it. She just needed to find it. 

"Shoot," (Y/N) murmured under her breath, fumbling through the cabinet in his first floor bathroom.

She was going to have to call the aquarium in the morning and reschedule their reserve tickets. 

—————

"Harry? You've got to wake up for me, honey."

Harry wanted to open his eyes, he really did, but no matter how hard he tried he just couldn't. He was too tired, too cold, too enveloped in his vivid dreams. 

"Just for a second then you can go back to sleep, okay?" 

Taking in a heavy breath through his sore throat, Harry attempted once more to crack his eyes open. This time around he was successful to a small degree, his eyes opening into slits. Everything was a bit blurry, too hazy to make out exact details of what was around him. He was so cold—freezing even. The blankets weren't enough. 

Above him, he saw who he was ninety-eight percent sure was (Y/N). There were vague memories of seeing her earlier in the night. He remembered the shape of her smile, the sound of her voice, her gentle touch through his hair. He thought he had been dreaming, 

"You're here?" he croaked, deep crackles in his voice. 

"I am, yeah," she crooned to him, shuffling closer to him, "And I have medicine for you to take." 

"You do?" A sudden chill swept over his form. He burrowed deeper under his covers. 

"Yeah, but you need to sit up for me so you can take it and drink some water." 

His brow creased her words. "No," he whined, unwilling to abandon his cocoon for something so trivial like water. 

"Yes," (Y/N) argued, "You're sick, H. You need to take some medicine so you can feel better." 

He shook his head. "I'll get better later." 

A soft peal of laughter filled his bedroom. "I think we should get better now, honey. I know you don't like being sick, so this will help it go away faster." 

Her logic checked out, really, though it didn't really make him happy to admit. "Fine," he answered begrudgingly. 

(Y/N) helped him sit up, his layers of blankets falling to his lap. His palms were sweaty as he clutched the hem of the comforters, his eyes going just a bit less bleary the more he blinked away his sleep. 

At his side, (Y/N) was huddled amongst the folds of his bedding. She looked at him with a softened smile, eyes glancing over his features and whatever state he must be in. 

"How are you feeling?" she asked, reaching behind herself to grab both the medicine and the water she had waiting for him.

Harry shrugged, his head feeling too heavy. "Tired," he grumbled, "I have a fever, don't I?" 

Her smile downturned some, frowning at the edges. "Yeah. I don't know how high, but I think it's a pretty good one," she told him, "So we need to make sure you keep drinking and start taking medicine again." 

 "That sounds like a lot of work." 

A huff of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips again. "I'm sure it will be, but I don't think it'll be much work for you." Before he could compute some kind of retort, (Y/N) was handing him a duo of pills and a glass of water. "Only sip the water, okay? Too much could make you sick." 

Her voice was like static in the background as he moved with lethargic limbs, tossing the pills to lay on his tongue before taking down a large gulp of water. He could vaguely hear her scolding him for taking down too much right after she warned him to slow down. 

"Sorry, sorry," he told her, throat not feeling quite as rough now that he drank something. "'M thirsty." 

"I'm sure you are, but you need to be careful," she told him, her voice a soft soothe as she took the glass from his hand and back to the side table, "Just take it slow. Are you hungry?" 

Trying to remember the last meal he had, Harry struggled to cast his mind that far back. While he didn't necessarily identify any hunger pains in his body at the moment, too much else going on, he figured they were buried somewhere amongst the crowded chaos. 

"Yeah," he answered, voice thick through his burning throat, "A little." 

"Let me go make you some soup, okay? After you eat, you can go back to sleep if you want." 

(Y/N) made a move to shuffle off of his bed, but she didn't get very far when he reached out with heavy limbs to pull her back. "'M not that hungry," he murmured, "Stay." 

"Harry," she started, her tone turning into a coaxing plea, "I'll be fast, and you need to eat, okay?" 

Disregarding her attempt at reasoning, he proceeded to tug her back to his chest. Though he didn't feel particularly strong at the moment, (Y/N) helped by moving pliantly wherever he wanted, even helping him when he shifted them to lay beneath the covers together. 

"'M too tired," he said, nosing at the curve of her neck, "I'll eat later." 

"Harry," she sighed once again, "I was going to make that soup you like, though." 

He only shook his head, pressing the tip of his cold nose into the column of her throat. He buried himself close against her, feeding into her warmth and the comfort the soft curves of her body provided. 

"Later," he insisted, her voice slurring and weakening. He puckered his dry lips and gave a small kiss to the shelf of her collarbone. "Stay."

It was when he felt her hands return to his hair, carding through the swirling curls and scratching her nails against his scalp, that he knew he won. 

"Alright," she relented, planting her own kiss on the crown of his head, "I'll wait until you wake up, honey." 

All it took was shuttering his eyes, lashes glancing over her skin with a slow breath in, that he fell asleep again.

—————

Harry's muscles ached by the time he finished the small serving of soup (Y/N) had made for him, only small remnants of carrots and celery remaining at the bottom. While he was much more lucid, his fever finally having gone down almost a full twelve hours since (Y/N) started feeding him medicine, his body was now exhausted from the fight against his cold. 

"This was really good, sweetheart. Thank you," he smiled at her when she came to claim his dishes and return them to the kitchen. In his now empty palms, she replaced the dishes with another duo of pills for him to take. 

"Those should get you through the night," (Y/N) explained, "But just wake me up if you need to. I'm hoping the soup will help your throat so you won't wake up coughing again." 

That had been the story of his day, at this point. In between the fever, the cold sweat, and the muscle aches, he had barely been able to sleep before he was forced awake by the burn in his throat that demanded he cough until he swore his esophagus was raw. 

"Okay," he responded, voice feeling gummy in his throat, "Are we going to bed now?" 

Dishes still in hand, (Y/N) pursed her lips as she looked at him. "Actually," she started, shifting her weight, "I was thinking—if you're feeling okay enough—that we could take a shower? I think it would help you feel better to get all the fever off of you and into some clean clothes."

To be fair, he fell asleep in these sweats Thursday night, and it was now Saturday night with the same hoodie pulled over his torso and heavy sweats that kept him warm through his perceived chill. But the idea of standing up for that long, in a space that hot and warm, already made him tired enough he figured he could fall asleep in an instant. 

She must have been able to tell what he was thinking by the soured expression on his face. "We'll be really fast, I promise," she assured him, "I was going to wash your hair and everything, so you wouldn't even have to do anything but stand there." 

While he was sure she was bribing him with the promise of washing his hair for him, taking the task off of his hands while simultaneously giving him the gift of feeling her nails scratch at his scalp and card through his hair under the warm spray of water, he knew he wasn't going to win when that offer was on the table. She knew exactly how to get him.

"We'll be fast?" 

"Promise." 

With a sigh, Harry caved in. "Okay, but if I fall asleep, y'jus' have to let me." 

"I'll make sure you don't fall then," she pledged with a proud smile on her face, "I'll be right back and then we'll go upstairs."

—————

"Too cold," Harry grumbled, his bare skin erupting into goosebumps under the spray of water.

Reaching around his back to adjust the temperature knob, (Y/N) turned it up just a bit more. By her preference, the water was plenty hot, especially apparent with the amount of steam filtering through the room already, but she figured he was still fighting off a few chills. 

"Is that better?" she asked, quickly pulling her hand out of the stream. 

"Almost," he murmured, eyes fluttering closed. 

His skin was quickly turning red under the temperature, but he seemed to revel in it. He threw his head back under the water, wetting his curls. His arms were barred over his chest, but she could still see the way he pulled in a deep breath, the sauna-like atmosphere cleaning his sinuses. She allowed him to luxuriate in the feel, hoping his muscles were relaxing as much as she knew he needed.

"Which shampoo do you want tonight?" she asked, looking towards the built in caddy he had in his shower, the cubby full of both his and her products. 

"Yours," he answered automatically, his voice sounding much less clogged after reveling in the water. 

With a soft smile, she retrieved the bottle, aware of the way Harry turned to offer her the back of his head to run the cleanser through. 

"Fast, right?" he murmured just above the sound of the pounding water. 

"Fast," she promised, sudsing up her hands before she was going through the soft curls with her shampoo. 

Though normally Harry would have leant down for her to get better leverage and not have to reach too far above to wash his hair, she couldn't blame him as he kept the full of his height. His back hurt enough some days without having a cold running through his system, it didn't help when his muscles were pinched with fever chills. Nonetheless, she stood to the tips of her toes and did as best she could to get him back to feeling more like himself. 

It didn't take long for the cherry-scented bubbles to start scenting the steam, wrapping around them in sweet ribbons. She smiled at the way he practically melted at the feel, rolling his neck and allowing her more and more coverage of the shampoo. It was a silly thought, but for a minute she felt as if she were playing as his hairdresser. Was she supposed to do small talk with him?

The thought had a huff of laughter puffing through her nose. 

"What's funny?" Harry asked, his voice sluggishly warm. 

"Nothing, just something silly," she told him, pulling her fingers from the silky suds of his hair, "Rinse your hair and we'll wash one more time before conditioning, okay?" 

"Okay," he answered absently, turning to place his hair under the rinsing spray, the bubbles running down his skin.

(Y/N) couldn't help herself, following the string of bubbles that ran down his chest, flushed skin slick from the steaming water. If this shower were under different circumstances, she would have taken it upon herself to trace that line of bubbles with her own hands, but that would have to wait, she decided. The lines of his muscles were attention grabbing, but there was something in it that made her feel sad for him. It wasn't fun to see him, knowing just how strong he was, to be reduced down to shivers and half-lucid conversations all from a small cold. 

With his hair rinsed free of all the bubbles, he looked to her, curls draping down around his face. "Again?" 

"Again," she affirmed, "Then we'll finish up and go to bed." 

A soft smile touched the corner of his lips. "Okay." 

Repeating the motion of washing through his hair once more, reviving the pattern after days of enduring his cold sweats. When she gave him the go ahead to rinse down once more, she could see just how slow he was moving again; lethargic limbs heavy. 

"Which body wash are you thinking?" Though she had an inkling that he would choose to utilize her products again, she still thought to ask. 

Instead of getting an answer, she was surprised with heavy, tattooed arms wrapping around her middle from behind. In her ear, he whispered, "Not yet?" 

"Not yet?" she asked, turning in his arms to look up at him, "I thought you wanted to go fast?"

Gazing down at her with hooded eyes, he looked at her with flushed cheeks and dilated pupils. "I don't want to leave right now." 

"No?" she asked with a beaming smile, a small huff of laughter falling from her lips. She looped her arms around his middle, setting her palms on the slick skin of his back. The water sprayed down on her hands, the temperature no longer bothering her. 

"No," he said, murmuring over the thrum of the water. A silence settled between the two of them as he gave her a slow blink, his gaze drifting down to the curve of her lips. "Kiss?"

(Y/N) looked up at him with a pout, her hand on his back running a soothing circuit over the planes. "I don't want to get sick, H." 

"You won't get sick," he tried to tell her, bringing his hand up to cradle her cheek, "I promise." 

"How can you promise that, hm?" she prodded, teasing him some with her pout turning into a tender smile. 

She seemed to have stumped him some, watching as he rolled her words around. "I don't know," he settled on, "But, I'll take care of you if you do." 

With that, he dipped his head down and brushed the tip of his nose against the side of her own. The lilypads of his tired eyes were close enough for her to pick out the varying shades of clear green, the wet clumps of his lashes a dark frame around them. It was hard to say no to him, especially like this. 

Tipping her chin up, she pressed her lips against his. It was a soft, innocent kiss that lingered for only a moment. It broke off when she could feel the curl of Harry's smile. 

"Is that enough?" she asked, nuzzling his nose in a puppy's kiss. 

"Almost," he murmured, "But I'll wait until bedtime." 

(Y/N) let out a soft laugh, pulling away to rest her cheek against his chest. His skin was blazingly warm, aided by the steaming water still scenting around them. He hugged her close, his arms a loose loop around her with his nose grazing the top of her head. His heartbeat drummed a soothing rhythm under her ear, a comforting reminder that he was right here, right with her. After the hours she went worrying and building anxiety over his state when she hadn't heard from him the day before, feeling the solid build of his body and the steady heartbeat under her ear, this was more relieving than she was sure he even knew.

"(Y/N)?" he asked after a moment. 

"Hm?" she hummed, snuggling that much closer. 

"Are we still going to the aquarium tomorrow?" 

Blinking her eyes open in an instant. She forgot to call. 

—————

thank u sm for reading and sorry for any mistakes! if theres any ideas anyone wants to see pls send them in:)))

[bunji-enthusiast]

Requester ⇨ [Hi this is my first time. Can I ask for Lancelot and Tristan (separately) with sassy bubbly s/o who they’ve known their whole life and how their relationship is like. If it’s not to much could you add their nicknames for each other and the cute things they do for their s/o Thank you.]

Heyyyy! Happy to be the very first one you requested! We can always depend on these two boys for the fluff :D also sorry if you see the way my posts are set up, I'm trying to find something to work with that I feel okay with.

Content || grammar errors, sassy banter, fluff, headcanons, gender-neutral reader.

𝙲𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗, 𝚋𝚎 𝚖𝚢 𝚋𝚊𝚋𝚢 (𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚘𝚗!)

Tristan generally loves you very much, even before the two of you were official! But every time you exude such a sassiness that he cannot, he can't help but laugh. The prince of Liones he may be, but you can just call him the prince of laughter. He can't help it, it sets him off every time!

There is one main similarity between the both of you, and that is your bubbly sides. Lots of your friends and even both your families just make major comparisons this way, which you never seem to hear the end of. Tristan however just loves when you can seem so happy, kind and full of life.

The one strengthening factor behind your relationship, is that you two have known each other for as long you can remember since childhood and even into your teenage years. Tristan knows every little detail; what you like, what you dislike, what you hate and your favorite memories. He can't really help but be in-love with every single aspect of you.

Tristan does worry quite a lot when you are out on missions, but he does often get reminded about how resilient you can be - especially with the amount of comments you make in combat. The nephilim is still left with worry though even when you do come back; did you get injured, burned, or imprisoned? the amount of things run ample through his mind enough.

He is a very avid and proud lover, just like his father. Though he is less perverted, as he doesn't want to make you uncomfortable. Tristan always likes to be very open about his love toward you, even if he does find himself with a blushing expression.

with all lovers, there is a connection that trescends the apparent obvious understanding. The way you know Tristan like the back of your hand when he is happy, or worried. The way he knows you when you are bashful or even sad.

He is unusually reminded and wonders if you have a lack of moral guidance when you are quite sassy, not even barring to hold back the blunt words that spill from your lips towards enemies and knights of chaos. Tristan wonders just what had happened to you when he had not been around in each other's earlier years.

Even if there are things about yourself that your insecure, Tristan is that kind of boy that will love all your insecurities for you. He has enough love going around, so he will love those as well. The prince will not take your self-deprecation if he doesn't at least refute it every time with a compliment, he hates when you see yourself that way.

In the privacy of his room, he certainly sees a side to you that no one else would be able to. You're far more soft and albeit grumpier when sleepy, but lots and lots of cuddles ensue, though somewhat whine and complain that he can be a bit cold.

If you end up sick, he just ruffles and pats your hair when you complain about it with snarky and sassy comments. But he won't just stop there, Tristan will help you work through it. Soup, warm cloth and even drawing you a bath.

Sometimes in tense moments, just to stay grounded, you two mouth to one another: 'I love you'. It generally helps, quite a lot. As he does find emotions difficult to deal with often, but just saying that alone helps him stay tethered to the earth.

This nephilim loves, loves, loves to give you gifts. In about anything, he finds that reminds him of you is something he will give to you as a gift. Tristan does hope that you don't find this annoying though, he just cares about you very much.

He knows you can defend yourself when being insulted, so when you fire one right back -- he just smiles. Tristan can't help but be proud, he doesn't know why but he just is. He loves when you don't just take it, and defend yourself (if verbally, or even physically).

Tristan loves holding hands with you if possibly, only particularly at appropriate times. The prince is very huge on PDA, and loves being affectionate with you. Though he often hears a lot of jesting from you whilst you hold hands with him, Tristan knows, and just grins.

You most likely lead half the conversations, seemingly always able to find something to say. He doesn't mind, and occasionally gives input when he feels he needs too. He isn't an avid talker most of the time, and tends to be quite formal anyway, so he just opts for listening to you. There are always jokes in each and every one of your conversations, your the one making them.

In the more quiet moments, Tristan and you will dance together. Maybe even bumble over each other's footsteps and laugh about it, and touching each other's foreheads and talking about things that bother you or things that brightened your day.

However, it doesn't mean your the only talker. Tristan may be quiet when you talk, but he can have a lot of things to say as well. Though he always just wants you to know he's actually listening to the things your saying.

Tristan isn't much of a nickname giver, but he does have many affectionate nicknames he reserves just for you alone; angel, darling, my love, and my light.

However the nicknames he has for you when you are being completely sassy are different; grizzly, my little philosopher, biscuit, and sunshine. However he always means them with love, he swears! Tristan generally just calls you these nicknames, and you just get even sassier. He loves it.

The two of you play into each other's playful sides, which can be a bit worse for wear, but it always ends up with memories you can look back on with fondness.

You two can quite literally be the perfect match for eachother, considering how laid-back and playful he can be at times, so the both of you are always met with back and forth comments from one another. Sometimes, there is a point to where the others are still surprised that you both have the energy to behave toward each other in such a way.

Lancelot does admire your more bubbly aspects however, and somewhat envies you for it. He wishes he can still have that energy, back to his earlier years of childhood with you. Lancelot can't match it as easily anymore, but he is reminded very fondly every time that side of you comes out. His gaze always lingers on you, not daring to stray for as long as possible, he always wants to burn those expressions into memory.

Beyond the relationship, even before knowing you, he feels a deep sense of despair as if something will happen. Something beyond his control, he feels that with each and every person he comes to hold dear of course. But with you, it delves even deeper, even more worse than before. Lancelot feels at a loss when this feeling surfaces, reminding him of previous failures (lance, please be kind to yourself). He is unsure when this sentiment truly comes to pass. Sometimes even with your sunshine, he still is reminded.

Whenever and however, if Lancelot ends up being the victim of your sassy comments, he just shrugs it off and continues the conversation. It just often shocks others as he usually is quick to bite back, but it didn't happen this time around, not with you.

It helps wholly, that he had known you for as long as he could remember. So even before being official, Lancelot can remember even the most seemingly insignificant details about you. Anything that he remembers, is something he considers of large importance after all. So maybe one day your met with a gift, something you mention offhandedly you liked, just one time. He looks away and says it was just something he saw on the way back, Lancelot will not admit he actually remembered that.

He isn't necessarily a touchy person compared to his father, but Lancelot will hold your hand if you wanted to, with very grumpy comments. You just tease him when he does accept it, to which he just lazily refutes.

Lancelot will defend you if you happen to be insulted, but if you do end up defending yourself, he happily accepts that with a proud-ass smile. He knows you can defend yourself verbally, but the comments you fire right back inspire him. New material for insults.

Often, he ends up cooking for you. You will not find him actually willingly doing that for anyone else, but you alone. Lancelot remembers few of your favorite recipes off the top of his head, so he cooks the appropriate meal concurrent with the time of the day. He definitely had inherited his ability to cook so well from his father, but had made it even better the more he had cooked.

On missions, he tends to worry about you. Out of habit, as he doesn't want anyone he cares about to get hurt, will shadow you the best he can. If he is able to of course, other times he will simply have to trust that you can take care of yourself and come back okay.

Lancelot is a quiet and subtle lover, but you can very much tell easily how much he loves you through acts of service (I will continuously iterate that he is an acts of service lover, sue me). He often will do chores on your behalf, or even patrol with you as often as he can, he can't really find himself doing anything else otherwise lest he actually has something he needs to prioritize.

Sometimes he actually hates that you can understand him, like 'how or why do you know this about me so easily?' You should be far away from his heart. Yet, you wormed so far in and deeply into his heart that he cares for you in a way he would no one else. Lancelot in turn does understand you as well as you do him, so he can catch even the smallest things. Example for telling, that subtle shift in your demeanor.

Such subtle things aren't left unnoticed by either you or Lancelot. maybe his jaw is clenched for some reason, you lightly tell him to unclench. He does. What if your hand was tightened and formed into a fist? Lancelot gently taps the knuckle of your hand with the back of his finger, curled in a way of subtle worry.

It's as if a complete shift in your demeanor when you are insecure (be it very few, or plenty), he will softly tell you something completely positive as an opposite. Lancelot finds it reassuring he was born with the ability to read hearts, i.e the mind in extension. Your thoughts are something that are much easier to read when you have bouts of these moments, and it is much easier for him to help you through it. He understands in a way, but hopes that you can overcome such insecurities one day.

[auras-moonstone]

Hello!!! Hru?! I hope your doing great!

I don't know if the requests are open but i know you're a swiftie and 1989 tv just came out and "Slut!" really reminds me of Jack, so could you do a story inspired by it? Just reader being famous (actress/singer, whatever you think fits) and she is being all love-sick by meeting and dating jack? And she even buy that "i love my boyfriend/girlfriend" t-shirts?

I hope you get my request and i love your writing!! You are the best <3 (And what's you favorite vault track?)

⋅˚₊‧ ୨୧ ‧₊˚ ⋅ slut! — jack champion

ᡣ𐭩 word count: 1.9K

ᡣ𐭩 pairing: jack champion x actress!fem!reader

ᡣ𐭩 summary: y/n has to deal with the reputation that has been set on her by the media as she falls in love with jack, her co-star and best friend.

ᡣ𐭩 contents/warnings: mentions of slut-shaming. friends to lovers. instagram posts. fluff.

ᡣ𐭩 author’s note: hiii! <3 thanks for sending this request! when i heard the lyrics “in a world of boys he’s a gentleman” my brain just screamed JACK so i agree with you! and my fav vault tracks are slut and say don’t go <3

ever since y/n started working as an actress, the media has been merciless with her. maybe it was because despite having been in the industry for just a few short months, she was already working with remarkable directors and successful and iconic franchises. media had always had the tendency to bash successful women, and y/n was fully living that experience.

the point was, she didn’t want to give the media more things to trash her for, so she stayed unproblematic and silent. and yet, regardless of all that, they had managed put a reputation on her that was far from the truth.

y/n was kind and had a unique vibe. every co-star spoke highly about her and the media always managed to twist this by painting the picture that she was a “serial co-star dater.” it happened to her with every single movie or show she worked in, and people bought it blindly. the name-calling became part of her every-day life, and she would be lying if she said it didn’t affect her.

she swore she would never make the media be right, and so she set a strict rule—never ever date a co-star or be extra affectionate with them. it was a sad way of living, setting boundaries that were useless because reporters and haters always found a way, but she just wanted to do what she loved. she wanted to be remembered for her good acting and not for who she dated.

but then jack champion walked into the set, with his cringy yet amusing dad jokes and contagious smiles, to turn her world upside down. everything was so natural with him y/n didn’t even notice the way she started ignoring the rules until the scream filming was nearing its end and the thought of not seeing jack as often anymore made y/n’s chest hurt as if her heart was being ripped out.

and then the questions ran through her mind—what should she do? should she act normal, as if realisation hadn’t drawn on her? should she confront jack and ask if there was something more than friendship between them? or should she start putting distance before the feelings got deeper?

what she didn’t count on was that she didn’t need to say anything, jack was not only observant, he also knew her like the words to his favorite songs. he noticed how her head was up in space, how she seemed to be always deep in thoughts, distracted. something was consuming her mind, and it was driving jack insane.

“you’re acting weird. what’s going on?” jack finally asked her, pulling her aside on set. right behind the trailers where no one could bother them.

y/n tensed up. “what? nothing.”

“please, don’t play dumb. if there is someone you can’t fool is me.” jack said firmly. he missed his y/n, the girl who brought him comfort like a cozy warm blanket. “i miss you.”

“i’m here.” she said breathlessly.

“but are you?” he accused her. “something is going on, and it has to do with me.”

“what makes you say that?” y/n asked nervously.

“because you’re especially tense when i’m around.” he said sadly, and it broke y/n’s heart. her mind has been a mess, and she was unconsciously hurting jack. “did i do something wrong? please tell me, we can talk about it.”

y/n shook her head and before she knew it she was breaking down. jack didn’t hesitaste to pull her in. “i’m the problem. i’m sorry.”

“shhh, it’s okay. i’m here. don’t worry about it now, just take a deep breath. we don’t have to talk about it now, i’m here whenever you’re ready.” he spoke softly, rubbing her back slowly, to try and bring some calm.

they both sat on the ground, backs resting against the trailer. jack held y/n’s soft hands tightly, hoping it would give her the comfort she needed. he had never seen her in such state, and he was concerned.

“it’s nothing bad… i guess. it depends.” she said, reading the expression on the boy’s face, which grew more confused by her words. “i realized some things a few days ago, and they have been occupying my mind. i don’t know what to do with this. no matter what i do, it’s going to change things so i might as well be completely honest.”

jack nodded, pressing his lips on the crown of her head. “not going anywhere, y/n/n. no matter what you say, i can promise that.”

“you know the reputation that precedes me, right? i’ve told you about it.” jack frowned but nodded. “because of that, i’ve set this rule, that i wouldn’t let myself be affectionate with my co-stars. and i have sticked to that rule, until you.”

a knot formed on jack’s stomach. “so it’s about that? you want to put some distance?” god, he hated this. he hated to think about not being able to hold her, but he would give it up if it meant he got to keep her around.

“that’s the thing, jack. the reason why i have been acting so unlike me is because i’ve been trying to convince myself that putting distance would be the wise decision. but… if these days have proven anything is that it would be ultimate hell.”

“why didn’t you talk to me?”

“well, to be honest i was thinking what i should do. you just beat me to it because you know me better than anyone else.” she smiled and jack mirrored it. “that’s… that’s not everything i realized though.”

“okay, go on.”

“when the countdown to our last day on set started, i got this horrible feeling on my chest. the first thing that ran through my mind was that we wouldn’t see each other that often anymore and i felt this hole in my chest… it’s more than just missing a friend, jack. i would feel empty because i like you and you’ve become my person.”

jack’s jaw fell open and he was close to pinch himself just to make sure he wasn’t dreaming. the times he has dreamt about this scenario… it felt too good to be real.

“but…” she continued. and reality hit the shore, putting an end to his short-lived hope. “i’m scared of what people might say. it’s still hard for me to not let what others think get into my head, and to even think about the hate that might come your way if we dated, makes me sick.” she shook her head and then her eyes widened. “my god, what am i even saying? i just assumed that you liked me back, i didn’t let you talk. god, this is embarrassing i’m so sorry.”

jack cupped her cheeks. “y/n, y/n, stop. breathe.” the girl nodded and closed her eyes until she was breathing normally again. “okay, now listen to me. if you’re not ready for a relationship, that’s fine. but if it’s because you’re scared of the hate comments towards me, let it go. i don’t care about them, i just care about you. okay?”

“yes…”

“good. i want to be your boyfriend, and if you’re not ready because of what the media might think then i have an idea.” y/n’s curious eyes look up to meet his. “i really like you, too, y/n/n. we can date in secret, to see how things go, and whenever you’re ready, we can tell everyone.”

“jack, that’s a lot to ask to you…”

“you aren’t asking me anything. i want to do this. i want to call you mine so bad—in secret, in public, however you want.”

y/n smiled through the tears. “are you sure?”

“one hundred percent, y/n. never been so sure about something.” he reassured her.

y/n couldn’t even recognize herself. two months ago she had been completely against the idea of being in a relationship and now she was utterly and unquestionably love-strucked.

she used to think she was doomed to being lovelorn because of the restrictions she had put in her relationships with other people. and now, there she was in bed, feeling lovesick just because she hadn’t seen her boyfriend in two days.

though those days helped her make the decision. the relationship between them was beautiful, it was a safe place, it was her main source of happiness. jack was everything to her and she was tired of loving him in the dark. he deserved to be loved out loud, in plain sight. she knew she was going to be the one to pay the price, but it was fine.

“you know there’s no rush, right?” jack assured her for the hundredth time. when y/n told him she wanted to make their relationship public, he remained calm (even though he was jumping on the inside) and sat her down to think it through.

y/n smiled widely. how could she not fall for him when in a world of boys he was a gentleman? “i love you, and if they call me a slut… you know, it might be worthy for once.”

“i love you, too.” he pulled her in for a kiss. “okay. let’s do this.”

“okay. i’m just warning you, i truly believe in the slang go big or go home.”

jack eyed her suspiciously. “spill.”

the girl smirked mischievously and went to grab a bag. “i made us special shirts.”

“lord save me.” jack sighed when he took the shirts out of the bag.

“you don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.” y/n said

“you know i’m going to, anyways. like i’d ever be able to say no to your pretty face.”

enchantedliv um, just bumped into y/n y/l/n and jack champion 🥺 they were wearing matching shirts that pretty much confirmed their relationship ????

landrysghost what did the shirts say??

enchantesliv “i ❤️ my girlfriend.” and “i ❤️ my boyfriend.” THEY ARE SO CUTE AND WERE SO SWEET😫

user1 are we really surprised? that girl dates everyone she works with.

user2 he’s too good for her.

user3 she’s going to dump her once she meets her next co-star for sure lmaooo

user3 y’all are so jealous lmao. acting bitter just because you want him, that’s her only crime. there has never been any proof that she dated previous co-stars.

liked by jackchampion, misstrinitybliss, baileybass and 878,913 more.

y/n.y/l/n hi everyone! this is more than me saying i’m taken by the most gorgeous and kindest man on the planet. this is also me getting something off my chest. been wanting to for a while, so here we go!

since the beginning of my career i’d told myself to stay unproblematic which i mistook for never fight back or defend myself.

the media always said i dated too many co-stars—even though that’s completely false. i’ve never dated anyone i worked with (until now)—, so i set this stupid rule for myself: try not to be too friendly with my workmates. i was so scared of proving the media’s rumours right that i built this shell around me, never allowing myself to fully connect with people. and then, a couple of months ago i met jack. he made me forget about those limitations i so foolishly put.

i’m done giving anyone the power to hurt me. i’m done letting people think it’s okay to shame a woman for who they date or not.

i’ve been in a dark place for a long time, and i never noticed until my person walked into my life and showed me daylight. i’m doing better than i ever was now. i’m never staying silent again, i’m going to defend myself, my relationship and my boyfriend. always.

that was all for now, thanks for reading.

ps. i love you, jack. all i need is you <3 thanks for being the best boyfriend, best friend and person in the world.

jackchampion so so so proud of you. this brought tears to my eyes not gonna lie. you’re the sweetest ever i love you 💌 thanks for the shirt, by the way, matches my personality!

y/n.y/l/n you’re so silly😭 i love you more and intend to be cheesy forever 🫶🏻💖

jackchampion certainly no complaints from me!

[crushpunky]

when rafe picked up kook!reader for midsummers (midsummers part two)

Reader took a deep breath and looked at the clock again.

6:56

Rafe was going to be here soon to whisk her away to what he had deemed his “Best Midsummer Date Celebration Extravaganza”. He had been hyping himself up for the past week, bragging about how much he had spent on his tux, the dance lesson Rose had convinced (more like forced) him to take, and all of the time he spent cleaning his best dress shoes. She laughed to herself, picturing Rafe practicing his waltz steps in his sparkly shoes.

As she made her way downstairs she checked her phone to see if Rafe had texted. She hadn’t seen him at all the past two days, which was unusual for the pair. They had planned on meeting up but Rafe called her at the last minute saying he must’ve gotten food poisoning from the night before and couldn’t stop throwing up. Despite ordering the same thing as him (as she had for years), Reader felt perfectly fine. She didn’t bother to question it because, as often as Rafe got drunk and partied, he was never one to actually get sick. Luckily, by yesterday evening, he had texted her saying he was still on for Midsummers. 

The doorbell rang as Reader quickly went to answer the door. She had assumed it was one of the neighbors, as Rafe was a lot of things but early was never one of them. However, to her surprise, she opened the front door to the powder blue suit and flushed face of Rafe Cameron. They both locked eyes for a second before looking down at the other's outfit and meeting eyes again.

“Holy shit.” Rafe said, dropping his arm that held a gorgeous bouquet of flowers to his side. Reader felt her cheeks warm as she let out a bashful giggle. She had seen Rafe in a suit a million times, and he looked great every time. This time was different. This time he was picking her up and taking her out on a date. Not “as a date”, but “on a date”.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, Cameron.” Reader laughed as Rafe’s eyes continued to look over her dress. Rafe was never shy about his affections, but something about seeing him speechless at the sight of her felt even better than any compliment he could give.

“The um— the blue looks very good…” Rafe stammered. “You look very good.”

“Thank you.” Reader said quietly, still feeling a bit overwhelmed by his reaction. Rafe blinked quickly before pulling the flowers back to his chest.

“Here,” Rafe handed the beautiful bouquet to Reader. “I got them from that shop downtown you like… Wheezy helped me pick them out.”

Reader smiled at the thought of Wheezy directing the tall boy through the flower shop, throwing bunches of flowers into his arms. She had done a great job though; lavender and baby's breath spun with beautiful, soft-hued blue lilies all wrapped together with a dainty baby-blue ribbon.

“Well you did a great job. Or Wheezy did at least.” Reader teased, turning to put the flowers into one of the empty vases that sat near the entryway.

“I told you I’d give you the best night of your life.” Rafe said with a shrug before offering out his arm to her.

“Well it’s off to a great start.” Reader grinned, hooking her arm into his. She looked over at Rafe’s silhouette against the setting sun, soaking in this moment and his sharp features as he led her to his car. Once they got to the passenger side, Rafe opened the door and guided her into her seat. She grinned as he closed the door gently before rushing around to the driver's side.

As she soothed her dress down she caught a glimpse of something on the dash: a white, powdery residue. Her heart dropped. Rafe had come to the door flushed, was he using again? She had sworn she hadn’t seen him high since he asked her to Midsummers… or had she? Maybe he was just getting better at hiding it. It wouldn’t be the first time she had caught him when he said he was clean…

“You ready to go, m’lady?” Rafe grinned, putting the keys into the ignition. Reader however, did not match his excitement.

“Rafe.” Reader said calmly, nearly a whisper.

“What? Are you okay? Did I forget something I can—”

“Are you high right now?” Reader said sharply.

“What?” Rafe scoffed.

“I said, are you fucking high right now?” Reader repeated firmly, turning towards Rafe. He scowled, putting the car into reverse.

“Jesus, I’m not fucking high right now. I would never drive high with you in the car, a’ight?” Rafe shook his head as they left the driveway and started towards the country club.

“Then what’s this shit on the dash, Rafe?” Reader said, trying her best to not allow the tears in her eyes to fall. She knew he was an addict but he had promised her tonight. Promised. Promises were so sacred between them, how could he?

“It’s—” Rafe sighed. “Alright fine, it’s coke. But it’s not mine. It’s Top’s. From this morning. I swear.”

“Do you seriously expect me to—” Reader scoffed.

“Yes! I expect you to believe me because I’ve been fucking clean for an entire week for you!” Rafe shouted. An entire week? For her? Sure.

“I would rather you just tell me if you’re fucking high. You know I hate it when you lie to me.” Reader said sharply. Rafe slammed on the breaks before pulling off to the side quickly.

“I’m not lying.” Rafe whispered, his hands still clenched on the wheel despite his soft tone. “I told you— I promised you— tonight and I’m going to fucking deliver. Ok? I’m not gonna fuck this up for you. I… I couldn’t forgive myself if I did.”

Reader sat there in silence, looking over at Rafe. His blue eyes looked at her sincerely, no sign of any dilated pupils or hazy glare despite what the powder covered surface might imply. He was right, he had promised her, and by the look on his face, she could tell he was struggling.

It all started to fall into line: his sluggishness the past week, his flushed appearance, and his “food poisoning”. He was in withdrawal.

“It wasn’t food poisoning you had, was it?” Reader said with an exhale.

“No. It wasn’t.” Rafe said quietly. Reader reached across the center console to take one of Rafe’s hands into her own. He could feel himself relax under her touch.

“I… I’m sorry, Rafe. I should’ve seen how hard you were trying, I was just being ungrateful and thought this was too perfect and—” Reader rambled, shaking her head.

“No, no, no.” Rafe said, reaching his hands up to cup the sides of Reader’s face, looking directly into her eyes with his own.

“You were right to… doubt me. It wouldn’t be the first time I lied about being clean.” Rafe whispered, running his fingers along her skin slowly as he spoke. In that moment, in his touch, she could feel the Rafe she remembered as a young boy. The Rafe who treated her like she was the best thing in the whole entire world. The Rafe who made her laugh more than he made her cry. The Rafe she had fallen in love with.

“Thank you, Rafe.” Reader said, taking his hands back from her face and holding them gently in her lap.

“You know I would try anything for you.” Rafe said, giving her hands a light squeeze. She could feel her heart swell at his words. He was right. He wasn’t perfect, but he would try to be. For her.

“Well…” Rafe broke the silence, placing one of his hands back onto the steering wheel, keeping the other grasped onto hers. “We should probably get going. We’re already about twenty minutes late.”

“Rafe Cameron! I knew you being early was too good to be true!” Reader teased, causing Rafe to flash her one of his signature grins before peeling back onto the road to the country club.

[mlmxreader]

Sickly | Art the Clown x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Hi! I saw that you wanted to write more for Art?

I saw your sick fic about him and thought it was so cute! Would you maybe consider doing a part two where Art’s in bed (still in his clown costume because he literally sleeps with that thing) with the reader but he can’t sleep because he’s got the sniffles that bad? And his silent sneezes are just pitiful for the reader to watch lol ❞

: ̗̀➛ You resign yourself to a night of devoting yourself to Art whilst he's sick.

trigger warnings: ̗̀➛ swearing, sickness/illness, mentions of murder & gore

↳ Part One: Feverish

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

The soft sound of Downton Abbey episodes were playing softly from your television as you did your best to sleep; but with Art beside you, constantly lunging forward and silently sneezing and coughing, it was difficult to get any sort of rest whatsoever.

You didn't know if it was better or worse that he made no sound, but even his harsh movements were enough to constantly justle you.

"Just how long is she here for?" Lady Violet asked her son.

"Who knows?" Came the quiet, mumbled reply of Lord Grantham.

You laughed softly at the exchange, which roused Art to shuffle around as he moved to grasp your attention; he tapped your shoulder, and when you looked at him, he pointed to the box of tissues that laid at the bedside table.

Even in the low light, you could see the snot clinging from his nostril, desperate to make it down to his black stained lips. You winced, immediately grabbing them and pressing the box into his lap; Art nodded in thanks, and roughly, violently, rubbed his nose on the tissue.

You had grown used to the fact that he always wore that fucking clown costume, even when he was lying in bed, but you were slightly less likely to think of a complaint given that he was sick and had been ever since his most recent return.

He didn't leave you as often as he used to, in fact, he hadn't left at all since he had come back to you. It was... odd.

You didn't really know what to think of it, if you were honest - sure, you were glad to spend any time with him without interruption. But you weren't used to having him around so often.

Lingering around you like the smell of rotting meat.

Granted, he did smell a lot cleaner than usual thanks to you; he had access to your shower and all your gels and shampoos and body lotions, and he always copied you when you washed in the morning and again in the evening.

He never exactly smelled fully clean, the metallic scent of blood and rotting meat always clung to him, but he didn't smell rancid like he usually did.

Even his breath smelled better now that you were making him brush his teeth after every meal to ensure that the bits of gooey brain matter and sharp shards of bone didn't get stuck between them and fester.

His teeth were always difficult to brush properly, their long and pointed shape, more akin to a lamprey than anything remotely humanoid, made it extra work to get between them without the bristles breaking immediately.

Art moved again, clutching his ribs as he opened his mouth to cough wetly and roughly, even though not a single sound left him; you felt pity, really. You had never seen him in such awful ways.

You coaxed him to lie down between your legs, the back of his head pressed against your stomach as you gently massaged his scalp. His breathing was slow and shallow, like he was struggling to get any oxygen in at all, and you turned the television up slightly.

Art watched the television, appreciating the monochromatic colour schemes of the gentlemen as much as the staff; their black and white outfits were much like his own, although with a different pattern.

He wondered what they would do if he went and bashed their heads in with all those shiny things in the shelves; the blood splattering all over their walls and carpets and paintings. So many people in one house, he wouldn't have to ask for anything to eat for weeks. Months.

But then the scene opened to a young couple - a brunette woman and a dirty blond man - sharing a bed; the duvet was red, with a white stripe at the top, and the headboard was a dark red colour. It looked a lot like your bed, although yours was green, not red.

He pointed excitedly for a moment, then dramatically sneezed against his sleeve at above the elbow.

"Oh, Art," you hummed softly, patting him gently so he relaxed against you again. "Settle down, too much excitement will make you worse, y'know."

He mocked sulking as he folded his arms across his chest and looked up at you with a stern pout.

Anyone else would have been ripped to shreds and had their brains removed and eaten for such a small action; but he simply sat there, pouting with his arms folded. Glaring at you.

His cold, dead, stare never even irked you anymore, and finding him staring at you in the middle of the night and gently stroking your face was far from unusual; but it was your time, now. Your turn.

You gently stroked his face, tracing all the little details that you cared so much for; that long nose and the line where his skullcap ended and his skin began. The little dot on his nose. The ring of black lipstick, the thin drawn eyebrows. The rings around his eyes with the slits down the middle, carved out of makeup.

He was certainly beautiful and striking to look at; you would never be able to deny that, as even when he was unwell and sick, snot clinging to the tip of his nose and phlegm at the back of his throat, he was still beautiful.

"I'll stay up all night if I have to," you mused kindly, a complete distinction to him. It was a wonder you were ever so close. "I can stay up with you."

Art shook his head, the dribble of snot flapping around from the edge of his nose; he was telling you not to bother, he even scowled and snarled at the thought of you losing sleep. No, no, no.

"It's not a worry," you told him. "Honestly. It's one night, and if it helps you to get better, then I really don't mind."

Art couldn't be bothered to argue, so with a heavy thump of his hand, he grabbed the television remote and turned the volume up a bit more; might as well see if the drama of rich, old timey, English people was better than his usual method of keeping himself entertained.

He doubted it.

hi! thank you so much for reading! if you'd be so kind, I'd like to take just a few more moments of your time. the Baalousha family need funds in order to secure the survival of themselves, but especially their two very small children; they have nothing left in Gaza, and with their home destroyed by Israeli bombs, they are desperate for money to continue to stay alive. so far, they have raised €20739 of their €52000 goal, so if you could spread their story and their fundraiser and even donate, then please, please do.

[p1nkprincess444]

⋆.𖥔 ݁ ˖ ɪᴍᴘʀᴏᴠᴇᴍᴇɴᴛ -ᴋöɴɪɢ {ᴄᴏᴅ} ˖ ݁𖥔.⋆

female!reader x könig

word count: 1,370

contents: 18+, cheating, gore, small fluff, angst

You never intended to cheat, you never intended to ruin your relationship but the way his hands wandered over your figure and the sweet things he murmured in your ear was just what you needed. It was everything your boyfriend didn’t do for you. You still loved König in the way you knew you always would, but he was neglectful of you and your needs, so when this man at a party spared you more than a passing glance it made you feel noticed. You knew it was wrong when you were walking upstairs with this man who didn’t even know your name. You knew it was wrong when it was the man's lips all over your body and not König’s. It was so wrong but it all felt so right at the time. It felt so right when it was his cock slamming into your cunt, König had barely even kissed you in the past few months so needless to say you were more than desperate. Your moans filled the room followed by the sound of skin slapping, the whole experience felt like the first time you had sex, but after it was everything but. You couldn’t even look at the man as he got dressed. He tried to speak to you but you told him to just get out. You were ridden with guilt that night when you went home to your boyfriend. You knew you couldn’t tell him anything but he began to notice something was off, he noticed the way you were eating less, the way you couldn’t meet his gaze, and the most telling sign was the way you began getting sick often. 

That was weeks ago but you were still riddled with guilt, and it didn’t help that somehow the man you slept with got your number. You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the message that lit up your phone screen in the middle of the night. König wasn’t so hesitant. He watched as you fell asleep and slowly grabbed your phone off the nightstand. He picked up the black metallic coloured phone that dwarfed in the size of his hands, his eyes immediately locked onto the message, it was the only message that was unopened and the only random number in your phone. 

“ Hey, a friend of mine gave me your number. I had a good time the other night and I want to see you again. ”

König wrote down the guy's number before putting your phone back on the nightstand. 

He spent almost two weeks tracking down the man before he found who he was. He texted the man from your phone to meet him at a park, with no hesitation the man went. 

Instead of the man being met by the beautiful girl he was greeted by two men he had never seen before. König called you soon after from his phone saying he “needed to talk”. 

When you arrived you were greeted by the horrifying scene of the man you slept with pinned against the concrete as König forced his mouth down on the curb. YOu didn’t love the man but the thought of König harming someone like he was about to do was leaving you shaking with fear. 

When you tried to approach König, Ghost quickly wrapped an arm around your waist before clamping a hand over your mouth. You knew König was capable of killing people at work, but this… this was different. It was cold, calculated, and it was terrifying to think König could actually kill this man. 

You didn’t think he would actually do it until you were watching the blood leak from the man's mouth covering the concrete. A scream of horror left your lips as König boot slammed into his head over and over repetitively. Your eyes clamped shut, but you could hear the horrendous noises still. You could hear the sounds of his head bashing against the curb and his pleading for his life, until it slowly faded out. The sound of his pleas were taken up by a disturbing gurgling noise. 

You couldn’t explain why but slowly your eyes began to open. Maybe it was morbid curiosity, or maybe you just wanted to see if he had actually killed the man. When your eyes opened they locked on König first, you watched as he grinded the man’s head into the curb with the thick heel of his boot. Your eyes slowly moved down before they locked on the man, he was unrecognizable, his face and all the concrete around was now covered in a thick layer of blood, you couldn’t even look at his mouth as it was completely ridden of his teeth and was split practically open to his ears. 

You couldn’t speak, you couldn’t scream, you were completely paralyzed in fear until your knees buckled and you collapsed. Before you could hit the ground Ghost’s arms tightened around your waist trying to keep you up as you sobbed in shock and horror. Your body lurched forward as you vomited, Ghost tried to keep you steady as he held you up with one arm and held your hair back with his free hand. You were a complete mess in Ghost’s arm as you threw up while sobbing. 

König stepped over the disfigured man on the ground as he approached your distressed figure. You were a sobbing mess, it’s obvious you were having a panic attack as you gasped desperately for air. 

No matter the fact König had made you witness this brutal display of dominance he did still love you, you were still his girl, he was still in love with you. 

“ C’mon love you have to calm down, ” he gently took you from Ghost's arms, laying you on the cool concrete to hopefully help cool your rising temperature. 

König’s hand stroked your hair as he tried to help you slow your breathing, but after a few minutes he realized you wouldn’t be able to calm down there. You were completely limp as he pulled you up cradling you in his arms before bringing you into the car. He cradled you like a small child while Ghost drove all of you home. 

He had to help König get you inside the house because of the way you were still a complete mess. Ghost pulled back the covers of the bed you shared with König before he laid you down. He helped König pull off your sneakers before putting them down next to the bed. Before leaving, Ghost pressed a kiss to your forehead as he said goodnight. König sat next to you on the bed stroking your thigh gently as you laid there silently.

“ Geht es dir gut, meine Liebe? ” { Are you okay my love? }

You couldn’t bring yourself to form any words as you stared back at him blankly. A soft sigh left König lips before he covered you up before stripping off his clothes and crawling into bed. 

For the next few weeks your nights were plagued with nightmares. You’d wake up in the middle of the night letting out blood curdling screams. König would wake up with you every time pulling you into a tight embrace desperate to calm you. Absolutely no one was sleeping in the house, you weren’t sleeping because of your nightmares and Ghost and König weren’t sleeping because of your screams and sobs that pierced the quiet silent night. You were still barely speaking or eating as both the boys made an effort to help you but their attempts were growing futile. There was a visible lack of sleep which was evident from your under eye bags. You became increasingly skinnier since you barely ate and when you did you vomited it back up as soon as the food hit your stomach. 

It was late one night you laid asleep as König sat with his back against the headboard while he smoked a cigarette. He sat there for hours going through a whole pack of cigarettes while he watched you sleep. He stayed awake the whole night watching you but you never woke until the morning when the sun peeked through the curtains. He took that as a sign you were improving.

[inkofthebrain]

GLUTTONY

[Lee (Bones and All) x Reader]

Warnings: Typical Bones and All things

Tags: No Maren (sorry bae ily) Mentions of religion/religious trauma, drugs & alcohol, no use of y/n, blue truck lives, future series, more tags will be added, briefly proofread

It was always nauseating, but you were thrown in such a frenzy that it was impossible to stop. A carving never to be quenched. You always believed you could change, maybe one day you will forgive yourself.

Hope has always been a sticky game. You, especially, used it to lure your victims. A guy at a bar grabbing your ass a few times before slipping something into your drink “hoping” to get lucky? You are observant. You always had to be. You knew his intentions before he could even begin to initiate the sick action.

You just so happened to have been dumped in a small town In the middle of nowhere northwest by a ride you managed to pick up in North Cali. There was talk of some animal killing a few of the locals and their pets. A perfect cover.

You let him take you home, pretending to be drunk off your ass, and then you pounced on him. Not even 10 feet into the house. You had struck him down with a lamp and started eating.

His flesh was warm and blood entered your mouth in a rush as you ripped it from his body, at this point the blood loss and pain had rendered him unconscious. It felt heavenly, it felt blasphemous.

As you stand above the man, half eaten and mauled, you turn your gaze to the cross above the door. There was no god. You learnt this early on.

No matter how often your mother tried to bash it into your head it would not click. You were an odd child born out of wedlock in a small religious town. You had always kept to yourself. Whether that was of your own doing or your mothers was something you had yet to figure out.

Your mother knew what you were, you had a sister. Your father had gotten to her and your mother had gotten to him.

The rest of your adolescence was spent in rebellion, but the night before your 18th birthday your mother quickly packed up a few things, took you up north for a “trip” and before you even woke up in the mildew smelling motel; she was gone.

Months later, here you were, walking along the interstate until you passed an abandoned barn and a familiar smell filled your nostrils. What you had thought was just your fathers cologne was here, in the middle of nowhere, emanating from a barn.

Your curiosity and better judgment bashed against one another as your legs gained a mind of their own and you crept closer, taking deep breaths and trying to pinpoint the source. Every nerve in your body was on fire when a figure emerged from behind the rickety wood.

“He's a few yards back if you wanna…” He looked to be at least a head taller than you and scrawny. With what was illuminated in the moonlight you were able to see the dirty ripped jeans he had on, or at least what was left of them, and a slight tinge of red in his hair that matched the red staining his skin.

“Were you..” you trailed off.

“I smelt you a few yards before you walked up” He says bluntly before beginning to walk away.

“I didn’t know I could do that” you said quietly, eyes following the strange man.

“Yeah well, ya can. He’s back there if you want a bite. I’m heading out of here” He says while walking, his strides were long but staggered due to his slight stumbling in the dark brush.

Before you could stop yourself you were jogging to catch up to him, staying a few feet back. You began to look around at your surroundings, the trees, the light from the moon shining through the overcast. Soon your body collided with a warm figure.

“Sorry” you said before taking a step back, he turned to face you, “it’s just, I ran out of money a few days ago and I’ve been walking trying to catch a ride since”

“So you want to ride with me?” He asks mockingly and you nod your head.

“I just need to get to the next town” You say, kicking some of the dirt below your feet, “Please?”

“What do I get out of it, huh?” He asks. You look up to meet his eyes before turning on your heels and walking away.

“Forget it, I knew it was a stupid idea” you grumbled as the sound of dried leaves crunched below your feet. It’s early fall and you need to find a town soon. Before the nights started getting too cold. Maybe you could wait for him to leave and hole up in the barn.

“I’m lee.” It was then you really noticed his voice. He sounded to be about your age but he had a sultry rasp that poked out when he spoke in a low tone. You stop in your tracks for a beat and say your name before walking on.

“I’m not an asshole you know,” he shouts out, “I just don’t meet many others”

You turned around and narrowed your eyes at him. The entire conversation seems redundant yet he keeps dragging it on.

“Ok”

“Ok.” He responded before clapping his hands together and taking a breath, he had taken a few strides closer. “I’ll give you a ride into town, I’ll get you a bite to eat—actual food. You look like you haven’t eaten in days.”

“I haven't,” you retorted. His demeanor was odd, he had an awkward posture and it was difficult to read his tone, much less his facial expressions in the dark.

“My car is this way.” He said before spitting a glob of blood onto the floor and turning away.

After watching him walk a few feet ahead you followed behind, keeping your eyes on his figure. Soon enough a truck entered your field of vision and as the two of you approached closer you could make out its tattered blue paint job.

Lee opened the door before grabbing a bag that was sitting in the cab and threw it in the truck bed before climbing in. He motioned for you to hurry up, and you did.

Once you made your way around and into the car you noted the smell of cigarettes and the tattered leather seats. The smell must be sticking to the leather.

“You’re a quiet one, aren't ya” he said as he started the car.

“I just don’t have anything to say” you shrugged your shoulders, looking ahead at the dark road.

“I don’t believe that” And with that we were on our way.

———

Next chapter (coming soon…)

Wanna join the Tag-list? Just ask!

[whoistartaglia]

Hi I’m kinda a boomer on tumblr so srry if I do this wrong or something

can I request a diluc taking care of injured reader (broken ribs, bones, yk the usual). He spends more time w/ you, buys you things to make u feel better, just him being the gentleman that he is ^^. And then when your injuries heal more, he helps you get used to physical activities and stuff like that.

Thank you! Have a great day

in sickness and in health

genshin men helping you recovery after an injury

diluc had to fight the urge to tell you he “told you so” after you returned home from a particularly dangerous adventure with quite a few bruises and fractures. he went white as a ghost when he saw you drag yourself back to the dawn winery, and even paler so when you nearly collasped in the doorway. needless to say, he spent the next few days right at your bedside—dressing your wounds, helping you take your medicines and healing salves. during this time, if you ask him if he’s been sleeping, he’ll look you dead in the eyes and tell you “you don’t want to know the answer.” when you do start to improve, diluc will actually leave your bedside for more than an hour. you’ll take a nap and wake up to an abundance of gifts and presents, and a bashful diluc explaining what each one is for. he’ll help you get back on your feet too, but is naturally weary if you want to go on another adventure right away—you just got better! what do you mean you want to go back out fighting and exploring? protest against this, and he might just need to drop the “i told you so” bomb.

childe makes himself nurse you back to health before hunting down the poor souls that did this to you. if you think you feel extra bloodlust radiating off of him at this time, you’d be right. he’s livid, truthfully, but he’s pushing that aside to be a good and caring partner to you. he’s unsurprisingly talented at bandaging your cuts and applying creams and salves—after all, he’s had a plethora of injuries of his own of which to take care. childe will feed you meals in bed and act as a crutch should you have difficulty moving about. growing up with siblings, he’s naturally adept at feeding you in bed and taking care of you in general. once you are back on your feet and kicking, and childe deems you can, in his words, “survive a couple days without his illustrious care,” he’s going to go out and find whoever did this to you. there’s a glint in his eyes that spells trouble, but he did just help you recover some rather nasty injuries, so you give him a pass.

kazuha will halt all his travels, cancel all his plans, stop anything and everything, when you get injured. it doesn’t really matter if it’s a papercut or broken bones; his care is always attentive and efficient. having traveled around the world, kazuha is rather knowledgeable about natural medicine and different healing practices from different cultures. he has an innate ability to care for you, and you’ll find yourself getting better within days, if not hours, depending on the injury. during this time, kazuha will remain at one location, and regale you with tales and stories of his previous travels as you recover. what helps is that he’s so gentle when tending to you and your wounds. this calm nature is even more reassuring once you do start to get moving again; his soft encouragement does wonders for sore muscles and lingering doubts. kazuha will never push you too hard, and for that your grateful. when you are fully recovered, you’ll resume your travels, though may hear kazuha call “be careful dear!” every so often.

dottore might groan and grumble when you show up at his office, scratches and bruised and broken, but he’s truly worried in his own way. he’ll take care of you by the books—medicine at this time every day, bandages changed every hour, three meals on rotation. if you ever complain about bitter medicine or him insiting you need rest, the most you’ll get out of him is a pointed glare and raised eyebrow. he’s basically telling you to suck it up without outright telling you (though he’s not terribly opposed to the idea). if you really don’t like it, he’ll experiment with trying to make it better, or at the very least, mix it with sweet tea or honey. as for rest, dottore won’t budge. he’ll explain in medicinal terms you can’t quite wrap your head around why you need sleep and use big words about why your body heals more when you’re asleep. when he finishes this lengthy explanation, he’ll find you actually fell asleep, which hurt his feelings, but got the job done, at least. the only practice not by the books is dottore laying down next to you and pulling you in his arms, but looking back on it, you think this made you feel best most of all.

[barbiesmuse]

FINE LINE. ₊˚⊹♡

;ֶָ 𓂃⊹ ִֶָsimon riley + reader

summary: you knew it was over, in fact, it never really began. but in your heart, it was oh-so-real.

tags: introduction to a new series! there is cliffhanger smut and talk of religion but that's mostly all!

head barbie's announcements: i'm back! after a long break that was totally needed because my brain was fried!! my masterlist will be updated, this will be a series so just think of this as the backstory, anddddd that's all! kisses and hugs for u always. if this is offensive or makes anyone uncomfortable i apologize and i will take it down without a problem!! this is just an idea for a fic! if you like it maybe i'll continue! “Am I making you feel sick?”

The hate you had for Simon Riley ran deep. Before you met him you were a good girl. You went to church every Sunday, volunteered to help in youth groups, and were the Priest's daughter. It was a life filled with love, community, and toxicity. Your father had been waiting to auction you off to his favorite usher's son. Your father judged a book by its cover; unfortunately for you, that meant almost no friends.

So when a young man and his mother come to church for the first time, your father is less than thrilled. His mother was known around town, she was a sleaze. She was outgoing, boisterous, and sometimes flirty. Your father called her a jezebel, although you tried to ignore his rude comments and welcome them into the church. Simon's mother thought you were the cutest thing since Polly Pocket, although you didn't quite resemble Polly your tiny stature was often compared to her. Her son, Simon was the complete opposite. He was quiet, shy, and often never spoke. That was comforting to you, everyone in the church always had something to say, except for him. You had tried countless times to invite him to youth groups and asked him for dinner! Your father scolded you, although you didn't care what he thought of the new followers, to you they deserve all the love. Once Simon had gotten to know you more, he had liked you. You were small, and kind, and your big eyes made him groan internally. You were the perfect kind of toy for him to play with. Gullible and bashful. The more you hung around Simon the more worldly you became. Your father took notice and made sure you knew how disappointed he was. Not only did he ground and ban you from seeing your new friend, but he also forced a purity ring onto your hand. Your father was a sick man. There have been many scandals surrounding him. He simply shushed them away with money. His only way out of any bad situation. In a way, Simon reminded you of your father before the church. Loving, caring, and gentle.

You had often snuck out late at night to visit Simon. The two of you would meet up at a park called “Condamnée.” The park was a safe place for both of you. After your father had put the purity ring on you, you needed to speak to Simon. Only he could make your sweet little heart feel better. To say you felt like a sinner would be an understatement. But you couldn't help it. Simon was like a bad habit, something you kept running back to. You didn't know if it was possible to let him go, you felt like there was a strong connection between the two of you. When Simon sees the ring on your pretty finger he can't help but smirk. You looked up at him with teary eyes and he caressed your cheek gently. “You've let a silly little ring get you all worked up like this, peaches?” He would say in a condescending tone. You simply nodded with a pout. What he did next surprised you, but you couldn't ignore the wet feeling in your pink panties as he did it. He slid the ring off of your finger and took off the silver chain he wore. He slid the ring onto the chain and then clasped it around his neck. You looked at him with wide eyes and he simply chuckled. “Oh my gosh, I'm going to hell!” You said with a quiver of your lips. He chuckled and pushed you onto the bench. He bent down in front of you and kissed your ankles.

“Y'r here for a good time, not a long one peaches.” He said as he kissed up your legs. It felt wrong, it was wrong. Yet the feeling of his tongue gracing the inside of your thighs made you squirm. He looked up at you with a sinister smirk. He had his hood on so all you could see were his honey brown eyes and the skull imprint of his mask. Sick. This was sick. You tried to tell yourself to push him away, but you couldn't. He felt too good. As his tongue reached your panties he looked up at you, asking for permission. “Can I touch you, sweet girl?” He asked, you could tell he was practically praying for a yes. So of course, you gave him a soft nod. He looked up at you, the pretty little sinner in front of him. Oh, what a fucking sight.

[fangirldreams101]

Coming Home pt. 6

DBF! Daryl, Rick, Shane & Negan x Reader

TW: Severe age-gap w/ older men, smut, consensual sex, handjobs/fingering, groping, some aggression, alcohol usage, unprotected piv sex (wrapping before tapping), Reader FINALLY gets laid

Chapter Index

It has been months since you have last talked to Rick and Daryl properly. Not for lack of trying on their part, they had tried to talk to you but you were not there to play games. They made their choice, they were not going to be allowed to backtrack on it. Besides! Shane kept you plenty of company. He swung by the house more often nowadays, flirting and flashing his charming smile. It was nice getting to know him, even though he frequently did not get the chance to stick around for very long, Daryl or Rick miraculously making an appearance and dragging him off. They thought they were being subtle, but you heard glimpses of their not-so-quiet whispers; saying things along the lines of, "Shane wasn't allowed to flirt with you," and to "remember the pact,"- whatever the hell that means. It didn't seem to really deter him though, Shane being quite bold in the placement of his hands or how close his body would be against yours. Alas, it was only teasing and nothing more, and you were not planning on spending your college years getting wet over fleeting touches. You enjoyed Shane's flirtatious company but you wanted more than that. And you were going to get it.

The month of your birthday was rolling around, and since it would be your 21st, your dad was planning on going all out. He booked one of the town's bars for the night, and was inviting almost everyone who ever made contact with you in your life. You tried to tell him you would be happy with something small but nothing was stopping your kind father from giving you an all out birthday bash. Your mom was even flying in with some of your old gang: friends from high school, neighbors, etc. You felt a little embarrassed with how much they doted on you but you were also very touched.

The day of the party came around and you were at the bar now, dolled up and greeting everyone arriving. It was a heartwarming feeling seeing everyone come in to support and celebrate you. You stood by the door and greeted the new friends and neighbors that you've made. Rick was one of the first to arrive. It was strange not seeing him in his work uniform, he chose to instead wearing a casual button-up with jeans. The first few buttons were undone, and for whatever reason, you didn't think you had ever seen a more attractive collarbone in your life. He sauntered up to you and his eyes trailed your body.

"I havn' seen ya around much darlin'," he said, a tentative smile on his face.

"I wonder whose fault that is," you joked half-heartedly.

His smile dropped from his face, “There is nothin more that I want than to-"

"Thanks for coming," you cut him off with a smile, "I have to greet the other guests but please help yourself to whatever you'd like."

You went to move away but suddenly arms wrapped around you and a familiar voice whispered into your ear.

"Does that mean I can have ya," Shane's voice was heavy with barely hidden lust.

"Everythin' alrigh' over here," Daryl's heavy drawl broke into the conversation.

Great. All three of the hot men in your life who have expressed some kind of desire over you and then rejecting you in some way or another all in one room. Thanks dad.

Shane released his grasp on you and grinned like a wolf, "Everythin' is more than fine. Peachy, even."

With the word 'peachy' he gives a small smack to your ass, eliciting a yelp out of you and a threatening step towards the two of you by Rick and Daryl.

"Get yer hands off o' her," Daryl growls.

"Shane we talked about this," Rick sighs at the same time.

Shane's tone turns to frustration, "No. No we didn'. You two talked about it n' then decided to tell me what to do. I'm sick of it."

While they squabbled amongst themselves like hens in a coop, you took this chance to slip away. You did not want whatever weird relationship you had with them to ruin the hard work your community went through to make this a special night for you.

Suddenly, the door to the bar burst open and your mom charged in arms wide, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY!"

Behind her, your friends and neighbors from Washington came in, smiling and giving their well wishes. You charged at them, giving them hugs and teary smiles. Finally, the party could kick off now that everyone was here.

As the night went on, drinks, stories and laughter were passed around. You couldn't believe how great of a time this was. You avoided the troublesome trio as much as possible, intent on having a good time. Later in the night, as everyone was just milling about, the bell hanging over the door rang out as another guest came in. You turned to greet the late comer but stopped when you realized you had no idea who the hell he was.

Your eyes slowly raked over his body, admiring his dark hair and facial features along with the dark leather jacket that clung to his arms.

"Hi, sir! Is there something I can help you with," you politely asked, walking towards him.

As you did, he let out a low appreciative whistle at your form, not hiding how he admired your shape, "Well helloooo, doll, aren't you a sight?"

You felt yourself bristle at his forwardness but also couldn't help the heat you felt rise to your cheeks.

"Mmm if I had a pretty little thing like you, I'd never let you leave the bed," he laughed.

For the first time in a hot minute, you were left speechless. Sure, Shane was pretty forward, but nothing like this. This man was clearly eye fucking you and you were sure that if he could get away with it, he'd be actually fucking you right here on the floor.

"I'm sorry, but this is a private event. Who are you," you asked, after taking a moment to recover from the shock.

"Hey! Negan! My man!" Your dad came barreling into the conversation as always, clearly having one too many to drink.

"Hey man, how are you," Negan smiled back, the both of them doing the typical man hug and slapping each other on the back.

Your dad did the introductions, "This is Negan, he was my best friend in college but the bastard stayed in Washington. Turns out he was comin' by to explore the town cause he got a job offer, so I invited him here to catch up. I hope that's ok?"

You nodded sheepishly, "Sorry for attacking your entry like that, just didn't recognize you."

"No worries, doll, I get it," Negan winked at you and then turned back to your dad, "Now where's the little birthday girl you always yap about?"

Your dad chortled and gestured to you, "This is the birthday girl!"

Negan's eyes visibly bulged out of his head. "The fuck are you talking about? The way you talk about her I thought she was 5 or something. This is... this is a woman."

"Well she'll always be my little girl," your dad sheepishly said, "Hey wait a minute... I sent you her age when I sent the details about the party! Did you not read it?"

"Fuck no man, you sent like 10 paragraphs, I am not reading that shit," he glanced at you, "Uh, no offense."

You laughed, you really liked hearing the banter between the two of them. Negan felt like a very sexy breath of fresh air. He was blunt and forward, you really liked that after dealing with the troublesome trio's vagueness and their hot and cold attitudes towards you. You liked Negan. Your eyes took him in once more. Oh yeah. You liked him a lot.

Your dad and Negan continued to converse but his attention was really more on you than anything else. He kept his gaze on you for most of the conversation until someone else caught your father's attention and dragged him off. Negan took the opportunity handed to him and sauntered back towards you.

"Hello, doll," he said.

"Hey," you returned, holding out a hand, "Sorry I never got the chance to introduce myself properly. I'm (Y/N)."

He shook your hand, "Seems like you read my mind, sweetheart. I was about to say the same to you. The name's Negan. Had I known what a beauty you are, I would've flown down to meet the old bastard ages ago."

You felt yourself giggle at that comment and that was the green light for him. You spent the rest of the evening in a little tucked away corner of the bar with him, learning more about each other. He became more and more bold with your body as you both became increasingly tipsy. As the party continued, you eventually decided that the clear chemistry between the both of you was enough to see if you can get to know Negan a bit more... intimately. He was just too damn charming and too damn hot for you to pass up the chance. And if he rejected you... well add the name to the list.

You leaned in close at his next joke, laughing lightly as you put your hand on his thigh. His smile slowly left his face and the beer he was bringing up to his mouth was brought down. He looked down at your hand and you could visibly see his gaze darken. Worried you did something wrong, you began to pull away when his hand shot out and latched onto your wrist. Keeping a firm but gentle grasp on your hand, he looked into your eyes and slowly dragged your hand up to his crotch.

"Is this what you were aiming for, sweetheart," he breathed out and you shuddered, feeling that he was actually hard this whole time, the leather jacket and jeans covering and restricting his hard-on from view.

You look up at him through your eyelashes, "Depends on if that's what I get."

"You can get it alright, baby, just not here. Don't want your old man cutting off my dick before I get the chance to be in you," he tugged on your arm, lifting you from the barstools you were residing on, "Come on sweetheart."

You guys both maneuvered your way through the crowd, not noticing Daryl's inquisitive gaze following you. You guys originally headed to the bathroom, but they were full so you both stepped outside into the alleyway behind the bar. The chilly night air could not do a damn thing to quell the heat that was growing in your stomach and you grabbed the back of Negan's neck with your free hand, pulling him into a heated kiss. He groaned into your mouth, releasing your wrist just to wrap his arms around your body. One of his hands tangled itself into your hair, yanking your head back, breaking the kiss and allowing his mouth to hungrily devour your neck and exposed collarbone.

"Fuck," you sighed out, holding him as close as humanely possible.

"Mmmm you pretty doll, all nice and all for me," Negan mumbled into your neck, seemingly talking to himself more than you as he pulls you in for another kiss.

Being in a dry spell since you got here, Negan's actions had you soaked in seconds. You pulled at the buttons on his jeans, reaching in and feeling him. He grunted at the sensation as you let out a small gasp in his mouth, happy with the weight of him in your hands. As his own hands explored you, groping your breasts and ass, you began to stroke him. He let out a groan at the contact, before moving his hands to your thighs and lifting you up.

Not breaking the kiss, he maneuvered the both of you so your back was up against the brick wall of the bar, and he was between your legs. He ground himself against your center, your thin panties letting you feel the heat of his cock rub against you.

He placed desperate kisses against your chest, "Pretty doll like you deserves to be taken in a fancy bed and made to cum until you cry, I'm sorry I can't give that to you right now, sweetheart. We gotta be quick."

You groaned, "It's doesn't matter to me. Just wan to feel ya."

"You dirty lil doll," he chuckled, "Alright baby, I'll give you want you want."

The hand not holding you up trailed in between your bodies, reaching into your clothes and feeling your wetness.

Negan sucked in air at the feeling, "Damn doll, you are soaked."

You felt your face flush at that, telling him to shut up and put it in already.

He let out a laugh and traced his fingers around your opening. You bucked your hips, trying to relay the message and he finally sunk his fingers into, pumping them in and out as a steady pace.

His thumb pressed into your clit, causing you to cry out as he tutted, "Now now, baby. Don't want the rest of the party hearing us. Keep it in sweetheart or you won't be able to get what you want."

You whined at his words, the way his fingers curled into you prevented you from forming proper words. He continued to pump and twist his fingers into you, and you could quickly feel the pressure building. Judging by how you tightened around his fingers, Negan could tell you were getting close too.

"Nuh uh, sweetheart. Want you to cum with me," he teased, slipping his fingers out of you and putting them into his mouth as you whined at the loss of contact.

Negan groaned at your taste, savoring your sweetness and moved aside your panties as he freed himself from the confines of his jeans.

"Ready sweetheart," he asked, moving his tip back and forth across your folds.

"Condom," you panted out.

"Ah shit," he groaned, "Didn't think I was going to get myself some sweet ass tonight, I don't have one."

“It's fine," you mumbled, bucking your hips again, "want you in me."

"You sure, baby? I'm here for a bit, we can do it another time-"

Before he could say anything else, with a firmer thrust of your hips, you were able to slip the tip of his cock inside of you.

"Fuck," he exclaimed at the feeling of your gummy walls trying to suck him in.

"I'm sure," you said firmly, "Now fuck me."

Negan gave you the largest smile you've seen out of him, "Fuck me doll, I love myself a woman who knows what she wants."

With that, he sunk himself into you fully as your eyes rolled to the back of your head. Negan let out a groan, loving the way you felt around him and began to pump in and out of you like he was never going to see you again. You both began to kiss each other hungrily, teeth and tongues clashing as he continued to move. You tried to move your hips as much as possible but you were quite literally stuck between a rock and a hard place, so it was a bit difficult to do so. Negan didn't mind at all, as he began to incorporate grinding into his motions, successfully stimulating your clit in all the right places.

Once again, you quickly began to feel yourself being wound up, this extremely messy but passionate sex was getting you close to finishing faster than you thought possible. The clumsy way you both tore at each other showed your inexperience with each other's bodies but the clear desire you had for one another. Negan broke the kiss, planting himself in the crook of your neck and began peppering you with small hickies. His hips began to falter and you could tell he was also getting close.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck," he panted, "Out or in baby?"

"Wha-," you moaned, delirious from the pleasure.

"My cum, sweetheart, out or in?"

In response you wrapped your legs around him and pulled him in closer to you, "Fuck, in me please. Please, in me."

"Goddamnit why are you so fucking hot," he growled, fumbling around to press into your clit once more.

With his words and motions, your dam broke and your came with a silent cry. Negan grit his teeth at the way your pussy spasmed around him and pumped a few more times before pressing his hips deep against you, until you were sure you were going to be bruised tomorrow. He bit into your shoulder as he came, filling you up with him cum and officially ruining your panties as it began to dribble out. You could feel him twitch inside of you, sharp bursts of cum hitting your walls as you both tried to catch your breath.

Once he was sure he had nothing left to give, he gave a few more thrusts into you before pulling out slowly. You hissed at the sensation, soreness already kicking in from the position you were in. He pulled your panties over your pussy, gently patting it and making your jump from overstimulation. He chuckled as you gave him a half-hearted glare before gently setting you down. Immediately, you almost fell over, collapsing into his chest.

"Woah sweetheart, don't go falling for me now," he chuckled, supporting you as he tucked himself back into his pants.

You gave him a dopey grin, so freaking pleased that you finally got laid by a hot man. Suddenly the door to the bar blew open and Daryl stormed out, frantic.

You and Negan quickly separated from each other, trying to fix your hair and clothing.

"Jesus, (Y/N) we almos' had a damn heart attack wonderin' where you were at-," Daryl stopped in his tracks noticing the disheveled state of the both of you, "The hell?"

Negan stepped forward, "We were just, uh, about to head back in-"

Daryl charged forward, punching Negan across the face, ”WHA' THE FUCK DID YA DO TA HER?"

You run forward, shoving Daryl away, "Jesus fuck, Daryl! Get off of him!"

"DID HE TOUCH YOU," Daryl yelled grabbing you by your shoulders right as the dimly lit alley lights lit you up perfectly, highlighting your exposed collarbone, and evidently, your hickies and messed up makeup.

"Hey man, get your hands off of her," Negan shoved Daryl away, cradling his punched jaw.

Daryl stumbled back, looking in shock between you and Negan, watching the way you ran to Negan's side to check on him.

"Oh my god Negan, are you alright," you cried out, gently holding his face.

"How can I not be fine when I have an angel like you worried about me," he joked, but upon seeing your clear concern, cleared his throat, "'M fine sweetheart. Jus' took me by surprise, is all."

"Did you two- did you two-," Daryl stuttered in shock.

"Did we fuck? Is that what you're asking right now," you questioned angrily, "Not that its any of your goddamn business but yes! Now leave us alone, Daryl!"

Daryl let out a staggered breath, running his hands through his hair, ", "Darlin... ya shouldn' have-"

"You do not get to tell me who I can and cannot fuck, Daryl! I'm a FUCKING adult no matter how many times you want to imagine otherwise! And you are not going to say one goddamn word about this to my dad otherwise you will never see me again and I will bust up your bike, do you hear me?"

Negan chuckled, "Doll, you're going to have me at your feet, I swear."

Daryl whipped his head around to glare at Negan before sighing and nodding, "You... yer righ''. 'M sorry. I shouldn' have done tha'. I'll, uh, I'll see ya inside. Happy birthday, (Y/N)."

With that, he walked inside like a kicked puppy while Negan wrapped his arms around your waist, resting his head on your shoulder.

"Well besides the lil interruption, I'd say this was a lot of fun, sweetheart. I hope we can do this again sometime."

You stared at the door Daryl just walked through for a second before nodding, "Yeah, sure thing."

Taglist:

@eternalrose81 @belaballs @lonely-girl2423 @thewitchesofart @theoraekenslover @raininhell

[writingoddess1125]

You Get Buggy a Corgi

Cute Headcanon

Pure Fluff

◇ Bonus has some mild sadness

Support me on Ko-Fi ☕️

• Buggy has always wanted a Corgi- He's never talked about it but you did see he has a Corgi shaped pillow in his room that he's apparently had since he was a child-

• So you decide to get him one as a gift for his birthday.

• He always had big birthday bashes and it was the biggest party imaginable- The whole crew with more alcohol and food then a gods banquet while Buggy sat in the center jovial and proud.

• You walk over with a box in hand and carefully set it down infront of him, He raises a brow at the lack of flashy decoration on the brown box and pops open the lid with a unamused expression

• There a little head pops up and everyone stares at the happy Corgi face looking st Buggy and the blue bow around its neck

• His whole face flushes as you can quite literally see the childlike joy shine in his eyes- A bright smile on his face as he sets the puppy in his lap.

• "Her name is Guppy" You say as he mumbles the name and glances up at you. "She's mine?"

• "Yep! She's fully trained and apparently does really well on ships from what the shelter said" You say softly, but you're sure he isn't even paying attention to you as the dog seems to instantly love Buggy and scales him with her little body to press her face against his. You can quite literally see his heart melt.

• Clearly Guppy is his favorite gift ever since he doesn't pay attention to anything else accept for Guppy the rest of the night.

• You also get a special reward for bringing a wonderful gift.

• Guppy is absolutely a velcro dog- Loving to be at Buggys side 24/7 and follow him around. He gets her a red bandana so she's easy to spot at all times. If there is anything dangerous he will leave her behind but be sad about it-

• Later finds out she yaps like crazy when he's not there and cries loudly.

• She sleeps on him constantly, sometimes waking him up since she will curl directly over his face suffocating him.

• 'Mrph!- 'Upeee!!" {Guppy!} And ge carefully scoots her on the pillow next to his head so he can breath and go back to sleep-

• Guppy acts as a sort of Therapy dog for Buggy as well- When his temper or anxiety get him worked up to were he would usually destroy his room she will instead lay on his chest and force him to stay still as he Pets her and works himself down from a rage.

• She is also the perfect pillow for him to cry on. So he has pressed his face gently into her fur and just cried- Often she licks the tears away.

• Doesnt wear as heavy of makeup since he knows she likes to lick his face and doesn't want the grease paint to make her sick-

• Will also carry her- Say if the waters are too choppy but she doesn't want to be left he will just carry her like a baby to make sure she doesn't slide around or get hurt.

• If anyone- and I mean ANYONE Dares to mess with his dog he will absolutely go ape-shit... Think insulting his nose is instant death- Hurt his dog and he will come up with the worse ways to kill a person slowly-

• He probably loves Guppy more then any living person and makes sure she has a wonderful healthy life.

Bonus!-

• "Hey Buggy can I ask?- Why do you like Corgi's so much?" You ask laying next to him on the floor of his cabin. He pauses for a moment as he thinks.

• "Lots of reasons- They are soft, sweet, overall really loving and they are a little odd which I like.. But-" He pauses for a second.

• "...It's kinda weird but.. my first memory in life was of a Corgi and my mother-" He admitted and you looked surprised by this, asking for him to explain which he rolled his eyes but agreed.

• "It was the day she dropped me off at the orphanage.. She handed me that corgi pillow you see on my bed and some berry she shoved in my pockets. Telling me that she had to leave me here to make sure I was safe from bad guys-" He said calmly, but you could hear the hurt in his tone.

• "But if I was every in a situation were it was truly life or death all I had to say with three words and I'd be okay. Then she kisses my forehead and left. It's my first and last memories of her- A few years later Roger's picking me up to be his apprentice" He admitted as Guppy lived his face clearly sensing some sadness.

• "Im... I'm so sorry-.. What were the three words?" You asked now circus, but you saw the way his eyes drifted to you briefly

• "Eh- That's a story for a different time" He said with a smile and waved it off. Watching how he pet Guppy some more.

• However you laid there stewing.. 3 words?