#again if you're worried that it's about you IT'S NOT- this has been going on for a while

[cupidbedsy]

🪻 for "I neglected you." "No, it's ok, you..." "No, it's not ok. I should have realized how lonely you felt." With pookie Quinn please?

✿ CUPID'S FLORAL SHOP ✿

here's a freshly picked lonely lavender 🪻 !

warnings: quinn neglecting reader, tired quinn, unresolved conflict

word count: 937

florist cupid: thank you so much for requesting lovie, i'm sorry it's taken me a while to write it! i hope you enjoy it, the ending is a bit rushed because i was running out of ideas and words to use 😭

you've known about quinn's tendencies to throw everything he has into hockey. every time you got home from work, he was rewatching old games or jotting down ideas in his notebook for practice the next day. it was one of your favorite things about him, how dedicated he was, but it quickly also became one of your least favorite things.

he did everything he could to make the team better, to make himself better, but at the same time, he was wearing himself thin. every time he'd come home from practice or a game, he'd look a little bit more tired than how he left. each loss cut into him and you couldn't recall the amount of nights he spent laying awake after one, recounting all the things they could've done differently.

eventually, you started seeing less of him, mentally at least. he was still there when you got home from a long day at work, he was still there to pull you into his arms in the middle of the night, but you can't remember the last time the two of you had sat down and had dinner together.

you didn't want to rant to him about the minor mishap that you had or that you lost one your favorite sweaters the other day, not when he he felt like he had the weight of the team on his shoulders, he had bigger things to worry about.

but deep down, you wanted him to focus on something other than the losses, other than the comments. each time you would offer to go out with him or watch a movie, he would shake his head and push you aside, claiming he had some stuff to work on. with each rejection, you grew annoyed and soon it became too much.

you got home and once again, quinn was sitting there scribbling something in that godforsaken notebook. you couldn't help the sigh (huff) that escaped you, alerting quinn to your presence.

he gave you a small smile before turning back to his page, "hi baby."

you raked a hand through your hair, making it more messy than it already was. you shrugged your coat off, hanging it up, kicked your shoes off, and made your way over to the couch, plopping down next to him.

he didn't say anything, just continued to write with the cutest furrow of his eyebrow as he concentrated and you frowned as it softened your annoyance.

"quinn can we talk?"

"mhm." he drew something, you couldn't tell what, but you could assume it was a play he had been curating up since you walked through the door.

"quinn."

"'m listening, y/n/n." but he wasn't, he kept his focus on the page, drawing random lines over it.

you sighed, taking the notebook away from him, "quinn."

finally he looked up, pushing his hair out of his face to look at you, "why'd you take it away? i was working on something."

he reached for it but he simply held it out of his reach, "because i want to talk to you and i can't do that when your head is somewhere else."

"i was listening."

"no you weren't."

you placed the notebook behind you, hands making quick work of moving to the hem of your shirt and fidgeting with it. you mulled over your thoughts in your head, trying to organize them as best as you could.

"what'd you want to talk about?"

"quinn, listen..." you started but were quickly cut off by his bewildered voice.

"you're not breaking up with me are you?"

"what? no, of course not. i just wanted to talk about something."

he let out a sigh of relief, nodding as he sank back into the couch. you took this as a sign to go forward, continuing to play with the hem of your shirt, "you know how much i love that you take everything to hear,t the criticism, the compliments, the suggestions, and how much you do to make the team better but recently."

you trailed off again, a wave of nervousness washing over you, "i feel like we haven't been us."

he furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, "what do you mean?"

"when's the last time we had dinner, quinn?"

your question hit him in the face like a cold glass of water. he recounted the past month in his head, trying to rack his brain for the last time you two had gone on a date or spent the night together besides cuddling in bed.

you were right, it had been a while since the two of you had done anything, the realization rushed through him, a feeling of guilt and sadness following it.

"i neglected you."

his soft words made you frown, you didn't mean to make him feel worse than he already was, you just wanted to bring it to his attention, you reached for his hand, tangling your fingers in his, "no, it's okay, you..."

you tried to explain but he shook his head, slipping his hand from yours and standing up, "no, it's not okay. i should've realized how lonely you felt."

you watched as he walked fast to the kitchen, slipping his shoes on. he needed time to think, time to make this right between the two of you. he had messed up, and it weighed him down more than anything on the team could've.

"quinn, honey, where are you going?" you went to follow after him but as soon as you stood up he closed the door to your apartment, leaving you more alone than you had felt in weeks.

back to the shop ! ; navigation !

[arrowthrewme]

Hello! Once again, I cannot believe that my three characters have been loved by so many people (or that I've already gained 20 something followers!!!) thank you <33

WARNING: Yandere behaviour, male reader intended

Green Green Dress

Yan Jock, who you meet during his practice. You volenteered to bring water to the school's rugby team. He was the team's leader, praising the team for their hard work.

Yan Jock, who stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. He swears he felt his heart stop and start in one second. It was weird...

Yan Jock, who introduces himself soothly ("Stephen at your service, delivery boy ;)") all while his heart beats inside his heart like war drum

Yan Jock, who, from that day on, invites you to his table and sits next to you during lunch (you sadly don't share any classes). He chats to you about practice, his friends and family and whatever else he finds interesting enough

Yan Jock, who you form a friendship with! Well, at least that's how you view it. Stephen views it as a challenge and a punishment. No boy should look so attractive! So why do his eyes wander your body like he does the girls in the school...?

Yan Jock, who is just a dumb little buffed up puppy who is realising that maybe the way he looks at muscular men isn't fully platonic

Yan Jock, who, as you get closer, starts to treat you like he did the past girls he's dated. Giving you his jersey, putting his arm around your shoulders, asking for a good luck hug (it's supposed to be a kiss, but he can't :c)

Yan Jock, who really loves dancing. It's a basically fun exercise. He's not good in the professional sense, but he's still good! (100% asks you to dance when you two start dating, maybe even before)

Yan Jock, who glares dagers at anyone who approaches you with romantic intent (mind you, everything that isn't formal is considered romantic intent by him) before wrapping his arm around you and kindly (threatiningly) tells the other person to fuck off.

Yan Jock, who isn't above punching the person, but doesn't want you to be mad at him

Yan Jock, who melts when you two finally kiss. It wasn't at a big moment. No big game. No party. Just you two walking around your hometown. He leaned down to hear you better and you had enough of the dancing around he's been doing for months and kissed him. Safe to say he will be asking for kisses every day (he's not taking no for an answer)

Yan Jock, who physically holds you back from going somewhere. He's stronger than you. A lot stronger. So when he doesn't want you going somewhere, he will throw you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes and happily skip away to cuddle under the bleachers. Stephen is the type of partner who asks to come with you to the bathroom

Yan Jock, who hates when someone yells at him or expresses their disappointment. He can't handle it. Stephen has been the "Golden boy" for so long. He can't lose that. So, if you ever want him to let go of you just use that! Don't worry, a little kiss on the lips will cheer the jock right up!

Yan Jock, who has the most perfect ass. Some of the girls at your school are jealous. And some guys question their sexualities because of it. And you? Oh, you're enjoying the whole damn bakery every day (not like Stephen minds)

Yan Jock, who, when meeting your parents, acts all anxious and worried, but that doesn't last long. 10 minutes later, he is talking with your dad about all types of sports while complimenting your mother's decor choices. He knocks it out of the park! You knew he would! (Stephen is definitely asking your dad for your hand in marriage. That's not negotiable for him.)

Yan Jock, who daydreams about having the picture-perfect family with you after school. White picket fence, a good home in a friendly neighbourhood with a huge backyard where your two kids and dog can run around in. Oh, it's the dream!

Yan Jock, who will carry you through life. He's trained all his life!...If only that emo nerd you insist on being friends with would just piss off already, then it would all be perfect...

[cuteandhughesy]

Oh Boy! | Jeremy Swayman

summary: going into labour during a hockey game was definitely not in your and jeremy’s itinerary—but you aren’t about to let that stop you from having this damn baby with your boyfriend at your side.

2.0k

warnings: SFW! pre-established relationship | pregnancy | mentions of labour and childbirth | suggestive dialogue and scenes | read at your own discretion

a/n: based loosely off this request! I changed it a little bit for the story to flow the way I seemed fit—so I hope you love it ✨ the valentines fic will be a one night stand (sorta ;) moment with vince dunn…so get ready.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

you shouldn't of acted so naive. at 37 and a half weeks pregnant, you were in the early stages of labour—and you have been since 2 a.m. it started as the dullest pain, one that was easily brushed off as an awkward sleeping position and a little bit of gas, but as the early morning came, it progressed into a proper pull—like the sensation of a period cramp.

you ignored it, hiding the sensation that came in waves every hour or two with a smile on your face, letting your boyfriend cook you breakfast (pancakes because for your entire pregnancy the thought of anything else made you queasy), and make your favourite decaf ice coffee.

as the evening came closer, jeremey waking from his pre-game nap to begin getting ready—a part of you knew that you were in labour. but another part of your brain was in denial. you're not due yet, the baby clothes haven't even been put away, your parents are still a state over. that's the part of your brain that had you pushing everything away. you were just a little uncomfortable. everything is fine—you're not in labour yet.

your boyfriend stumbles down the hallway, tie hung loose around his neck as he rubs sleep from his eye. your eyes shift to clock above the tv, it's almost 5 p.m. meaning he’s just getting ready to head out to TD garden.

jeremy leans over the back of the couch, hands on either side of your shoulders as he kisses your head. "hey baby."

you hum just as a sharp pain shoots across your impossibly large belly, and you wince. jeremy pauses, rounding the couch until he standing in front of you. "what's wrong?"

you smile, although it's not as wide or bright as your usual one. "nothing." you don't give jermey a chance to question you further, holding out your hands so he can help you off the couch. "just sitting on my foot funny is all."

he doesn't look all too convinced, but thankfully he doesn't interrogate you like he's desperate to do—pulling you off the couch like the 20 pounds on your belly is nothing to him, like you're still only 10 pounds or something. which is nice, because your boyfriend can still make you feel dainty. you love him so much.

at this stage in your pregnancy, jeremy knows better than to question you, especially when you're insisting that everything is fine. so he stays as quiet as he can manage—unless he wants his balls ripped clean off.

once you're standing, jeremy sends you a soft smile. "okay baby, if you're sure." he says quietly, hands resting on the sides of your belly as he leans down and gives you a gentle, sincere kiss. it has your belly swooping pleasantly for the first time today, making you sigh against your boyfriends mouth like it's the first time you’ve been kissed. your heart rate increases even more than usual as jeremy’s thumbs swipe alone your squished ribs, and you feel like you’re on cloud 9.

it seems that the baby agrees, tiny body rolling around in your belly like it's a ride—but soon enough there's a hard kick against your side, followed by another wave of pinching pain. you pull away from the kiss, brows pulling in discomfort.

you don’t want jeremy to ask again, or worry. so you mask the pain by fiddling with jeremy's tie, looping it around itself. "you look handsome in this colour."

jeremy's brows pull questionably, analyzing your seemingly calm face. he sighs gently, just as your nimble fingers finish with his now perfectly knotted tie. "thanks."

another sharp pain shoots across your lower belly, wrapping around your back and shooting down to your pelvis. now you're getting worried—what if something is wrong? what if you're actually in labour? but once again, you're doubting yourself. maybe you're just overreacting. the last thing you want is to pull jeremy from a game because of braxton hicks contractions.

you already feel guilty about having being pregnant during the height of the nhl season—never mind when the baby actually gets here and jeremy is up with you all hours of the night. the least you can do right now is let him play in peace.

it's a few more minutes before your boyfriend is slipping into his dress shoes, kissing your lips once more by the front door before heading to the rink—leaving you and your reeling mind behind.

anxiously, you pace around the house in any attempt to be busy and distract yourself. you put away these few dishes left in the drying rack from breakfast, set jeremy's laundry going, and you even double check the hospital bag—just in case.

your pain is getting increasingly worse, and the contractions you've been experiencing since the early morning are now only 7 minutes apart. it was undeniable now, you're most definitely in labour.

before you totally panic, you send a rather frantic text to danielle coyle, listing your symptoms and contractions times. her response was simple: get to the damn hospital baby mama.

you're going to have a baby. today. suddenly you don’t feel prepared, or ready to have a baby in the house. you’re scared. immediately you start crying, hands shaking and tears blurring your vision as you attempt to look down at your phone screen—danielle’s message starting back at you…taunting you.

your knees feel weak, and it has you pushing yourself to walk over to your exercise ball, sitting down to relive some of the pressure on not only your knees, but pelvis and back as well. you wipe your tear filled eyes, pulling up jermey's contact and hitting the call button before you pass out from anxiety.

unfortunately you're not one of those wags who wants their boyfriend to stay blissfully unaware of labour—as much as you wish you were. you are scared, and in pain, and you need him. now. it could be game 7 of the playoffs and you’d still want jeremy with you.

he picks up on the first ring—he must have his phone connected to his bluetooth today. "what's wrong?" jeremy questions, and you can practically hear the way his face is scrunched in concern. the sound of his car can be heard in the background of the call, meaning he hasn't gotten to the arena yet. thank god.

"jer..." you sniffle, a loud sob wracking through your body. "I-I think-the baby's coming."

despite your wobbly words and borderline hyperventilating, jeremy knows exactly what you’re saying. his breath hitches, and immediately he’s pulling off the road and into some bank parking lot. "I knew something was wrong, honey. are you okay?" jeremy flicks his turn signal on before pulling back out onto the road, back in the direction of home—of you.

"I just want you home." you admit timidly, voice laced with emotion and fear. "i'm sorry that i'm only just telling you...I didn't know what to do."

jeremy sighs, naturally picking up speed until he's borderline breaking the law. "don't apologize, okay. i'll be there soon."

"wait," you cry, hips swivelling on the ball as your pelvis tightens uncomfortably. "please don't hang up."

jeremy's lips pull down at the sheer panic in your voice. he almost feels guilty for biting his tongue today, especially when he saw how much pain you’ve been in since you brushed your teeth together this morning. regardless, he’s happy you’re calling him now rather than after you’re already starting to push. "baby, i've gotta call work. but I promise i'll be home very soon, and if i'm done the call before I get there, i'll call you back."

after a a tiny and sad okay from you, he hangs up, instantly dialing his coach's number. thankfully, joe sacco picks up on the second ring, "jeremy? everything okay?"

"actually joe," he starts, an inevitable smile growing on his face. "y/n is in labour."

much to your relief, jeremy is walking back through the front door only 8 minutes after your phone call ended—slightly breathless and eyes wide—but he’s here. jeremy’s eyes land upon you, still rolling your hips on the hot pink exercise ball, breathing deeply through contractions.

you had just stopped crying, but as soon as jeremy looks at you, the tears start up again. he rushes towards you, holding your face delicately. "hey....hey what's wrong? why are you crying?"

you look like a wreck. hair still not brushed, snot running out of your nose like a faucet while tears stream down your cheeks—not yet out of your pyjamas because for the past month, just getting out of bed was a chore, never mind having to dress the huge stomach attached to you. stupid athletes and their giant babies.

"i'm scared." you tell him, your own hands wrapping around jeremy's wrists to keep him close to you. "ugh! having a baby is scary, jer!"

"it's going to be okay." he chuckles quietly, bringing you into his chest for a hug. and you go easily, falling into the comfort of jeremy's hug while your muscles contract tightly, making your face pull inward, forming a scowl. "you're doing so good already." he praises, words tickling your hairline.

you whine in discomfort, and like he learned in labour&delivery classes, jeremy starts pushing against your hips, reliving some of the pain and pressure on your pelvis. you exhale shakily, eyes flickering up to your boyfriends warm gaze.

there's a small smile on his face despite the nerves he feels in his stomach, because despite all the anxiety and unknown thoughts about having a baby, there’s the upmost excitement about becoming parents that jeremy just can’t not smile about. your eyes say what your mouth can't, a conversation shared just between your and jeremy's locked gazes. it's time.

"you ready to have our baby?"

soon enough your both in the car, hospital bags packed in the back seat and jeremy's hand on your thigh, stroking your skin over your sleep wear as you breathe through intense contractions and pressure.

you're pretty sure the hockey channel is playing through the radio—you can take the man out of the game. the broadcasters begin taking about the absence of the usual bruins goaltender, speculating about his sudden absence, and that's when you reach over and turn it off. the last thing you need is to feel more guilt about having a hockey season baby.

and as if jeremy can sense that, he squeezes your leg and shoots you a look. "there's nowhere i'd rather be right now, baby. okay? we're almost there."

"okay." you breathe, your hand finding his and interlocking your fingers together. "love you."

"love you."

you're quickly ushered into a private room once you check in at the hospital, nurses fussing and checking you over—hooking you up to various machines and getting the room ready for a delivery.

you're 8 centimetres dilated, which isn't surprising considering how long you've been labouring—almost 16 hours now. jeremy is truly your rock through the entire thing, and when it's time to start pushing, he's in full support mode. kissing your head, whispering words of encouragement and holding your leg up while you cry and scream, delivering your baby like it's second nature—which technically, it is.

after exactly 42 minutes of pushing, you give birth to your and jeremy's baby boy. you'll never forgot the way having your new baby placed on your chest feels, and the love that consumed you looking into his brown eyes…the same eyes as jeremy. it was other worldy.

jeremy's eyes watered at the sight, kissing both you and his son in the softest, most precious way. he’s never felt more complete—more hole—than looking at the sight of your baby in your arms. shaky arms covered in various patches and IVs.

you know the next little while will be a great learning curve. between adding a baby into the mix, the hockey schedule and the half painted nursery back at home, adjusting to your new life will surely be a little difficult to get used to.

but you're so damn excited to learn, and even more so that jeremy will be learning with you.

yourusername is with jeremyswayman1

liked by daniellegcoyle, bmarch63 and others

yourusername he’s here 🩵

[beef-brisket]

Charlie snuggled in next to Adam and tried to fall asleep, but she couldn't stop the tears that flowed from her eyes.

Adam: Char...? Oh, darling. Don't cry, you'll be okay.

Charlie smiled weakly at her mama as he slowly cupped her cheek.

Charlie: I-I'm not worried about me, mama.

Adam smiled, and he hated seeing his first baby so worried. She didn't deserve to be so worried.

Adam: You have nothing to worry about, Char. I promise.

Charlie: B-But, mama-.

Adam: No buts. Don't work yourself up, sweetheart. You're so special to me, don't- over do yourself, darling.

Charlie couldn't help but cry more. She felt how cold her mama's hand was. She felt him try to pull her close, so Charlie carefully nuzzled into Adam, trying to give him as much of her warmth as possible.

Charlie: D-Don't leave me, mama. I'm sorry- I'm sorry it's my fault.

Adam: Oh, Charlie. It's not your fault, nothing's your fault.

Charlie: I-I wasn't meant to be here- Dada, he would- have left. If it wasn't for me- you wouldn't have had to deal with T-Teddy-. I'm so sorry m-mama.

Adam held his daughter close, his tail wrapped weakly around her legs: No, love. None of this is your fault.

Charlie looked up at her mama as he raised her head up: You weren't planned, I had no idea you were possible, darling. But that morning, I woke up to you tucked into me, was the best day of my life. Seeing you- looking so small. So peaceful, is one of my favourite memories... have I ever told you how much your cried when you hatched?

Charlie chuckled: Dada mentioned it a few times.

Adam smiled: You drove him nuts. I-I left him the night before, after you were born. I had no idea you were even a thing, but because of you, you brought us together again, Char. And I wouldn't change anything. You saved me, sweetie. So many times. Just like your saving me now.

Charlie: B-But- y-you're... you're d-dy-dyi-.

Adam: Maybe. But don't think about that, darling. Just- s-stay with me, darling. Please.

Charlie: I-I'll stay, mama. Of course, I'll stay.

Smiling, Adam wrapped his arms slowly around Charlie, holding her close. His perfect daughter.

-

Lucifer: Through here.

Michael scrunched his nose up and looked around. He hasn't been in a swamp in a long time, but he remembers how much he hated it.

Michael: This place is disgusting... are you sure his kidney is worth taking? I thought humans could survive with one one...

Lucifer: Trust me, it's worth taking. And humans usually can... but that's usually when their organ hadn't been torn out of them.

Michael sighed: What has this guy done again?

Lucifer: Broke in, gave Adam some of his blood...

Michael rolled his eyes: Oh no, how dreadful. What a menace.

Lucifer: What's with the attitude?

Michael: Lucifer- do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You're going to steal a guys kidney because he broke in once and talked to Adam? The guys not stupid. He obviously didn't drink the blood.

Lucifer growled: You're point?

Michael: ...I've done worse than this Alastor. You're not going to steal one of my organs, are you?

Lucifer scoffed: You're my brother.

Michael: ...Not the point.

The two walked until they saw a small shack off in the distance, a warm light filtered throughout the windows, a delicious smell flowed from the chimney.

Michael: Hm... cozy.

Lucifer: Not for long.

Michael: Lucifer. Think about this. Please-.

Lucifer: Michael, if I do nothing, Adam will die!

Michael grabbed Lucifer's wrist as he moved towards the shack: Please, brother. He'll be fine, Adam... he's strong. Don't do this... this isn't right.

Lucifer: ...H-He'll die, Michael.

Michael sighed: ...Why didn't you take father's, if you had to. At least he's... cleaner.

Monster under the bed au where Lucifer is a monster and "terrorizing" Adam?

And by terrorizing, I mean fucking. Grossly. Disgustingly.

Complete monster porn.

Oh no, are my kinks coming out again? Oh well 😉

🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

Don't tease me with a hot au lol

Oh, what if Adam bought a new house and that's when it starts?

[xxstylefntsyxx]

Daisuke Darling, You're My Bestfriend

A/N: Part 2, Yall a lot has been going on Jesus if I had a close friends I'd tell yall but just know I'm back for good and I'm sorry to stray! Now yall been clawing up the doors for this one so... TADAAAAAA!!!

Themes: NSFW, Fluff and Admitting feelings *sorry it took so long*

Bestfriend!Daisuke

Who's been pondering his feelings after that day and has been super awkward. You took notice and wondered if you did something that made him this way. Lots of are you okays and are you sures'; you just couldn't put your finger on it, and he was just being a major blocker about it. So you dropped it for some weeks, still worried about him, though.

Meanwhile, this boy was fighting the demons of hell. Your touch is too good for him now, and he felt so unworthy of your smile. He wanted to crumble and sob to you about how he got off with just the smell of you and that he was just wanting to hold you and touch you and! And!

"Daisuke! Pay attention!" Swansea yelled. He slipped up and fell off the small ladder, hitting his ass. "Ow!" He yelped. Swansea rolled his eyes, "Keep your head out yer' ass and keep going! You're not done!" He said, pointing back to a piece of the air shaft he told him to fix.

"Ah shit sorry! It just- like, have you ever been in love like super hard?" He asked. He wiped his knees and checked his ass for any dust. Swansea huffed, "Kid, I have a wife. Of course I've been in fuckin' love before! What do ya' want!?"

Daisuke set down the flame tool and leveled himself with Swansea, "I fell in love with my best friend. Look I'm not asking for a coach, I'm asking for a...dad."

Swansea stopped in his tracks. His face once was angry, and now was sullen and stern. He walked towards him, with his fist clenched around a singular wrench, "Look... I- what do you want to know? I'll tell you, but then you're back to work! Got it?"

Daisuke nodded happily, "Girls are complicated, and I recently found myself liking her. But like I don't know how to tell her."

Swansea grunted, "Son, you're grown. Other girls like her are a flirt away."

"But not like her! She's so nice to me and kind and comforting, and I love her smile. She makes me giggle, and I don't mind getting in trouble with her if it means that I can be with her every single day." He said, thinking about you and sighing in love. Swansea could almost see the hearts in his eyes as he thought about you.

Swansea let a little chuckle out, "Alright son, I see it, I see it. You're in love like I was. I asked my pops for the same advice and he told me the same thing. Guess I thought it would be okay to tell you too. I see you need Swansea Advice, not my dads..."

"Look, I'll be honest. Women are complex creatures that work on scales a bit higher than ours. Course being in love comes easier to them than to us. We wanna bawl up or just flirt it off our shoulders. But then she gives you those eyes of love, that touch that makes you feel alright. She gives you feelings that - yeah, I'd follow her. If that's the one, then you go to her and you tell her. Don't just wait. Never wait cause when you don't see her again, you'll wish you did."

Bestfriend?Daisuke

He pondered about what to do for weeks. He decided he'd own up and tell you! Fuck how everyone else feels. He was sick of the constant running and hiding! You're that girl who can only come once in a life! Its only a matter of time before their back off this dump, and he never sees you again.

"Hell yeah! Fuck it! Time to find her and-"

"RUN!" He heard you yell from down the hall. He squinted hard to see what was behind you. As you got closer, so did the figure.

"What the-"

before he finished, you grabbed him. Then he realized, "Holy shit! Is that Jimmy!?"

He didn't have time before you were whisking him along with you. "Y/N! What did you do!?" He yelled. You laughed loudly, "Fuck that bitch! He yelled at me, so I tipped his coffee, and it fell on his feet! It burned him, and now he wants to kill me... and you because I involved you."

(Insert that meme of the dog with its eyes closed, poor daisuke)

You two ran around a corner before stopping and sliding into a small room. You hushed him until you couldn't hear jimmy. "It was a good prank! I fucking got em'" You were giggling and laughing quietly under the darkness of the room and not noticing just how close you and daisuke was.

Bestfriend?Daisuke

Freak out? Now? Yes.

Shit! This isn't how he wanted to admit his feelings to you. Not in a- what the fuck is this!?

The space was too close, and he only had enough room to slightly move away, but you were pressed against him like a sandwich. He didn't understand what this room was for, but whatever it was for, it wasn't - He felt around, and then he sucked his teeth, sighing. It's a closet for the brooms... why the fucking closet room for the brooms of all places!?

When you were done, you turned somewhat around to face him. "What's wrong, Dai? Are you okay? We can find another hiding space!"

You were almost if it wasn't for the little bit of space granted from moving the brooms close to his chest. He breathed out a, "No! No, please, I'm just... really close to you, don't you think?"

He was flushed out. You were so sexy right there. So cute. He has to tell you, has to tell you how he feels. Before, he never sees this sexy beiw ever again, unless in his dreams. Or his horny flustered events in his room.

You pondered, "What's up with you? Afraid I'll give you cooties? Dick."

Your face turned sour, but he shook his head. "NO! please, no, that's not it! I swear!" He was stammering. You pressed closer, chest entirely too close to his, "Then what is it!?"

"I- I-!"

Bestfriend?Daisuke

"Y/N! Fuck man I've been holding this for weeks okay! I like you! When you're close, you make me feel flustered and very confused, and I don't know if it's cause I like you or if I like you! I've even taken asking Swansea! I'm crazy! I know, but i-"

He stopped. Fuck, he just spilled like a can of beans to you. Poor daisuke, never could keep to himself. You were happy he did it first. Cause now you could tease him for being the loud mouth. Since he likes to call you one.

His face was a deep shade of red. He let go of your hands and wiped them off on his shirt. You did the same because he sweated so bad. "Well, now we know who the real loud mouth is." You tempted, still processing everything.

Even though you felt the same for the past weeks, his offness and blushing got to you. It made you slightly frustrated because of how cute he looked. Made you mad someone so handsome could look so cute when he was in love. But you weren't gonna admit it first. You just couldn't wait anymore.

"Dude, I like you. What's up?" He whispered. You jolted from thought, "Uh! I- I mean, yeah, me too!"

"That sounds so unconvincing!" He half yelled.

You scrunched your nose, "At least I don't sound like a fucking baby! Oh! Y/NN! I likeee youuu! Mwah mwah mwah!" You made fun of him. He scrunched his nose back at you.

He pinched your leg, which made you yelp and hit him. You and him caused a bit of noise, fussing and yelling. You hit his shoulder, and he pushed back against the broom, which scuffed against the floor.

"Ow! You pinch me one more time Daisuke! And I'll-!"

*Eeerrrrrrkkk!*

"You two are in... SO much fucking trouble."

Shit...

"Jimmy." You two said in unison.

UPGRADE LVL.1

Boyfriend!Daisuke

You two went to work, scrubbing and cleaning the walls of the tulper until Curly felt tired. That's what Jimmy said-

"I don't want you two to stop until curly walks down these halls to his room to sleep! Even then, you will clean behind him before you even think of escaping. Shitty brat, I should end your fucking life! And you! Daisuke!" He pointed at poor daisuke on his knees, shirt wrapped around his waist, crying and sniffling.

One thing you know about daisuke is that he hates cleaning even when Swansea makes him. Cries like a little bitch. Spoiled kid indeed. You've occasionally heard him whine and cry while Swansea yelled at him to clean his tools until they shine. Poor thing shaking and crying over tools, snot and drool I mean the whole diva works.

Looked like he went through the worst heartbreak ever when, it's just a snobby boy who never cleaned a dish a day in his life, but will climb in a capsule and fix whatever an old fart tells him to.

Choosy snobby fuck.

"I'm sorryyyy!" Here he was again. Poor daisuke, apologizing for something he didn't even fucking do and crying at the fact that he had to clean. Jimmy berated him, causing him to bend down and wipe his tears off the metal floor, sloppily and half-assed.

You were wiping some of the windows, looking out at the galaxy. You felt a hand around your neck, two quick squeezes, "I'll end you. Don't ever fuck with me!"

You winced but mustered a bastard smile, "Polle says-"

Jimmy growled, "Shut up!" His face was red.

Earning a sniffled snort from daisuke. Jimmy turned around and daisuke went back to sniffling and wiping the same spot.

"YOURE NOT EVEN CLEANING SHIT!" He yelled.

"Polle says-"

"Y/N!"

After doing Jimmy's dauntless task, you two were tired. Yes, but now you two had each other.

Boyfriend!Daisuke

You two were now sitting in his room, cuddled up, talking the day away. He asked you questions about your life at home, and you told him more than he already knew. That comfort you once felt was now filled. His laughter, his sadness, and loving nature showed straight. Why didn't you think of dating your best friend anytime sooner?

Boyfriend!Daisuke

(Alright, I'm tired of the slow jams. We've established it... let's get dirty bitches.)

He turns the music high enough to drown you guys out. You two had fallen into kissing long into your 'Hangout.' He just wanted to make sure their was ambiance so that it could cover up what he was gonna do to you.

"You sure? You can tell me to stop anytime, you know?" He asked you in a low voice. You were breathless, jumpsuit opened, and shirt pulled up. He trailed hickeys down your neck and your collar. You were breathing heavily and nodding, pulling him closer for another heated kiss. He unzipped the rest of your suit to slip his hand underneath it.

Trailing over your cold thighs, he found the lace of your panties, groaning into the kiss. You gasped, swallowed by his tongue and mouth. Lightly his fingers danced over the fabric, warm with your slick and cunt. "Fuck you're hot." He moaned.

He pulled back, and you could see the hardon growing desperately hard in his shorts. "You wanna take it off for me? Give me a show?" He asked with a smirk. You were a bit dizzy from the kissing. Surprisingly, he was good at what he did.

You slowly started stripping, giving him a run for his money. You rubbed your clothed ass, shaking it slightly.

"You're so beautiful~ I never thought I'd see this view ever." He whipsered. Your face felt hot from his words. You turned around now in a shirt and underwear. Straddling his legs, he bounced them slightly., "You're really fucking pretty." Kissing the middle of your collar bone, making his way up with kisses to your neck.

You were moaning, rolling your hips in his firm hands. You gripped his hair when his teeth fond a peice of your neck to bite. He flipped you over on your back, kissing you cheek before winking, "Be back!"

You didn't know what that meant. Like, was he leaving the room? His face slowly disappeared, along with the feeling of your panties sliding down.

"See if I remember what I'm doing... tap me if you need to breathe♡"

Oh

Boyfriend!Daisuke

Oh lord, that's what he meant. Shaking and moaning, he was working your cunt skillfully. Licking long prideful wet stripes up your folds. He circled your clit, sucking it slowly, earning whines from your jolting body. His hands found purchase in your thighs. Crescent moons left angry marks as he held you down with your legs on either side of his head.

"Dai- It's too! Much, fuck! Please!" You whined, trying to remove him. The tufts of his soft hair were delicious. Almost made you cum again, this would be the fifth or sixth? Who cared, it felt so good. Too good. Like crying good, stars in the eyes, you were overstimulated.

You tapped his veiny hand, and with that, he released you. He was panting, "What's wrong? Are you okay?"

No shirt on, body glistening, eyes low with lust and plush lips wet with your juices. He looked so damn good. "I... want you. In me, okay?" You said breathless.

PART THREE IMMEDIATELY I RAN OUT OF WRDS!?

[meiluu]

Soft and Gentle

Zayne/ Reader(MC)

Zayne pushes himself too far, and you his valiant hunter the woman who he loves with ever fiber of his being is now fusing over his fever. Maybe being sick isn't all that bad... Not Edited

Having just sat down on his couch, Zayne lets out an exhausted sigh fingers reaching up to take of his tie. Head pounding, he throws an arm over his eyes as he lays down onto the soft cushions. And from there he slips into a much needed nap. Though it seems like it only last for but a moment when he is woken up but gentle fingers cupping the side of his jaw. A familiar voice rings through his head, its you. It takes him much longer to come to his sense than usual and when he finally comes to he can hear the worry within your voice, "Zayne you're really warm, do you feel okay?"

Slowly rising from the couch, he brushes your hands away. "I'm probably just tired." Zayne moves to get up from the couch only to halt in his motions when he sees your angry pout. "Nope you sit right there, I'm getting the thermometer if you aren't running a fever I'll let you get up." And with that you quickly turn towards the medicine cabinet in the kitchen, Zayne wants to insist that he truly is fine but he feels so weak and tired that he just sinks right back into the couch. A few moments pass before he feels your hands upon him again and your muffled words. "You're running a fever Zayne." He can picture the sad pout upon your face, opening on of his eyes he finds that to be true. "come on lets get you cleaned up and in bed as soon as possible."

And with those words you are leading him into your shared bathroom, leaving only to come back with a clean pair of pajamas for the both of you. Turning on the tub you let it fill before you help Zayne to take off his clothes. Although any other time you would be flushed from head to toe at your daring moves, but now in its place is a level of intimacy that only you can share with each other. Finally free from his work clothes and in the tub you help him to wash his body and hair. Fingers gently massaging into his scalp, letting the cool water rinse him of the soap while also hopefully quelling some of his fever.

Smelling no longer of antiseptic and papers instead smelling like his favorite soap that has a soft fragrance of jasmine flowers. Grabbing a fluffy white towel you help to quickly dry off Zayne, letting him brush his teeth while you hand him his clothes. With him finally dressed, he heads towards the bedroom sinking heavily into the plush comforter and mattress. Mind drifting off as the sound of you taking a shower lulls him into near unconsciousness. Zayne is again woken up by your familiar hands on his face, "Take this it'll bring down your fever." a quietness falls around you both after Zayne swallows the pills, one that it broken with his tired voice. "I'm sorry." there's a barely noticeable pout upon his lips.

"Zayne there' no need to apologize, everyone gets sick."

"I just-" he lets out a sigh before continuing, "I'm not used to being taken care of like this, the last time was when I was a child."

a soft bout of laughter leaves you, "Zayne I will always be here to take care of you especially when you are sick, just like how you always care for me when I'm hurt or sick. You don't need to go this on your own anymore, you have me now." You reach your hand up, carding through his soft onyx hair. Zayne reaches a scarred hand up to yours cradling it to his face, then bringing it down to his lip to give your palm a chaste but loving kiss. "Thank you, my love"

a.n. I may or may not of had a very vivid dream about helping Zayne while he was sick... (also I've been playing this game for over a year now and I am so in love with it, all the characters hold a special place in my heart. Will definitely be writing for all the boys in the future, I actually have a few ideas I'm writing at the moment.) hopefully you guys like this little drabble :)

...sorry about not posting in literally 6 months, college has been crazy and I've been having the worst writing funk. But I am slowly getting back into my normal rhythm and have begun writing again!

[shanefuckingscott]

You can be the boss, daddy 🦾

Sevika x Gang leader!reader because I said so 🦾

I'm slightly drunk while writing this, so I apologize in advance if the writing, and everything else is shit. 😆

Warning: Smut, a bit of fighting, reader being a flirt, Sort of bitch reader, Switch!Sevika, Switch!reader, I'm a horrible writer, Not/barely proofread!

🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫

You've been working with Silco for awhile, you're the leader of one of the most feared gangs in Zaun, notorious for bank robbery up top, bribing officers, and smuggling drugs and weapons from all around the world. Silco saw potential in you, so he decided to partner up. You and Silco discuss alot of business together, and only you, and him were allowed in the office. No guards, just you two.

You were often in Silco's office, discussing large transactions, smuggling, shipments, and over all boring business stuff, so you often stay in the last drop for awhile, to ease your mind off everything that needs to be done, but also still searching for more intel about your partner's right hand woman.

You heard about a 'Sevika', although never come across her. It's part of you and Silco's agreement of what is said in the office, stays in the office, only between you two. No guards allowed, to build trust in each other, but you still keep your eye on him.

The bar was loud, and alive, but you still enjoy the atmosphere. Every person has their own story to tell, and you liked that about Zaun.

She captured your interest the moment you set your eyes on her, and you can't help but ask "Who's that tall, dark, and handsome chick right there?" You ask the man behind the bar. "O-oh, that's Sevika!" He answers, reluctantly. "Hmm, interesting. May I know her business here?" You try and ask to see what else was going on. Intrigued by the woman before you. He stutters "I-Im sorry, I can't. I have to get back to work" He saysz his voice shaking. You give him a last good look, before you put on a smile, and say "No worries, kid." Before turning towards the door.

You come back a few times, but you've been planting your guards everywhere to keep an eye on Sevika. But everytime they come back, they tell you she's clean. You need more, though. You need to know about her.

So one faithful night, you decide to follow her, after she wins her games. You left your guards in the bar, though, telling them you can handle yourself.

You're about 20 steps behind her, wearing a coat to hide your identity, when she suddenly stops. She throws a dagger at you, that you immedietly dodge, as she lunges at you. She was about to gut punch you, when you dodge and pin her to the ground.

"Who are you?!" She spits. You chuckle at her, as you reveal your identity. Her eyes wide. "You?! what do you want from me?" You just raise your eyebrows, and smirk at her, before letting her go, and making her stand up. "Nothing. Can't a girl just be interested?" You snicker, leaning closer to her. Her eyebrows furrowed, her eyes still scanning you. "Why were you following me?" She asks, while stepping back. You just look up at her, and tell her the truth. "I was curious about you. You piqued my interest." She just stands there with a frown. Eyebrows furrowing, as she squints.

She shakes her head, and sighs. "For a big time crime lord, you're a shitty stalker, you know that." she spits. You laugh, and make your was closer to her, while maintaining eye contact. "Maybe. Or maybe I intended to be seen." You back her up against the wall, and wink at her. "Why are you following me? You could have just come up to me." She calls you out, still confused. "Yeah, well, I wanted to make sure, you know? There are only very few curious women out there. I didn't want to take a chance on nothing, hm?" You run your fingers across her cheek and down to her jaw. She raises on eyebrow at you again. "Doesn't this look 'curious' enough for you?" She raises one eyebrow at you again, smirking, while looking down at her body. You check her out. "You're quite interesting, Sevika I've had my eye on you from the moment I saw you. I still had to make sure you were clean. Sorry for the surprise, Darling. " You wink at her.

She just scoffs and looks to the side. But oddly enough, she doesn't push you away. You pull back, and she just looks at you while you walk away. You stop. "Meet me behind the bar tomorrow, after my meeting with Silco. I expect you to be there once I'm done." you say, and you continue walking.

She looks at you for awhile, when she feels something in her pocket. A note with your number, and initials on it. She just scoffs and rolls her eyes, as she crumples the paper, putting it back in her pocket.

She couldn't sleep that night. She kept looking at your number, considering calling it. But she doesn't. She just types your number in her phone to save it, but she can't. You're her boss's business partner for fuck sake! How will he react if he found out his right hand woman has a crush on you? Even Silco's afraid of you. And one time, he told everyone to stay out of your business, and never bother you, but you make it so hard. She has to follow her boss's orders, right?

She looks at your number for awhile, and then she puts it on the night stand. She stares at the ceiling, contemplating everything in her life. She can't have feelings for you. From what she's heard, you're a heartless crime lord, who'd take every measure to get what you want. But what DID you want from her?

"Fuck." She says under her breath. Unbuckling her belt, and putting her hand on her now wet cunt. She's thinking about the events from earlier, when you were pinning her down, pushing her against a wall, and winking at her. She rubbed circles around her clit, going faster and faster, as she remembers that dumb grin you had from earlier. Your voice, when you called her 'darling'. How close your face was to her. Fuck, you're gonna be the death of her.

she throws her head back, as she's close to cumming. lettig out a low groan, quietly moaning your name. Her fingers go faster, as she slightly whimpers. Her mouth wide open, her eyes shut, as she imagined you naked, right on top of her. When she came, she let out a gutteral groan. She just made a mess in her pants, and it was all because of you. She took some tissues, and wiped her fingers clean.

She could hardly sleep that night, thinking of seeing you tomorrow. "Ah, fuck it." She turns off her lamp, and tries her best to fall asleep.

When she got to work, she was sweating profusely near Silco all morning. All she can think about was just bending you over at his desk, and fucking you there. She was going insane because of you.

Afternoon rolls around, she just got back from a mission. Immedietly hanging at the bar to grab a drink, when she saw you walking in with you men. She just stared at you, imagining you without your clothes, imagining all the stuff she wanted to do with you. Then she snaps out of it, when she sees you looking back at her, with a smile as you wink at her. 'Fuck, this is gonna be a long afternoon.'

Once you got in Silco's office, she immedietly went to the back of the bar to smoke and wait for you. She knoes it was gonna be atleast an hour long wait, but if she stays anywhere longer, she fears she might actuallu go crazy.

She smokes and tries to keep her cool, but all she can think about is you. She walks around, and smokes her cigarettes for about 30 minutes or so, but it felt like eternity. When she hears the door from the bar open. She's at a small alley behind the bar, she doesn't even turn to look, but she already knows it's you, just from the sound of your boots. You look around for a bit, before you find her. Your eyes have a mixture of surprise, and something else. "Didn't think you'd actually come." You say to her, putting a cigarette between your lips, as you gesture for her lighter. "Took you long enough. How was the meeting?" She says, lighting your cigarette. You take a puff, and blows smoke to the side. "Highly confidential— hey, wanna get outta here?" You suggest, raising an eyebrow, with a playful smile.

When you get to you apartment, It wasn't anything special. It was even crappy, but it was practical, and closer to your office. She was awfully surprised that you don't have a princess castle by now. She stands there at the door, checking your apartment out. You get in, and gesture her to come sit on your couch. "What are you waiting for? Come in." She sits on the couch, still looking around your apartment. You take out two bottles of beer from the refrigerator, along with 2 cigars. "Surprised you didn't get a barbie dream house by now." She teases. You roll your eyes, as you open the beer bottle with your teeth. She just looks at you in awe, thinking 'Holy shit. This girl's something else.' You pass her the bottle, and she takes a sip of it. You sit next to her, lighting your cigar, and open your TV. "There's alot of things you'll find surprising about me then. How was your day?" You ask, before chugging your beer nearly half empty. "Alright. You?" She asks, struggling to light her cigar.

"Same old boring meetings with your same old boring boss. I wanna try something new for a change." You tell her, taking our your own lighter, and lighting it towards her. You both maintain eye contact with each other, the tension growing thicker. You break eye contact to look at your TV screen, as you put your hand on her thigh. You look up at her, and she gives you a nod of consent, and your hands get higher and higher. She blows smoke at your face. "Oh yeah? What else do you wanna try?" She raised an eyebrow at you, while smirking with her cigar between her teeth. She blows smoke to the side. You look in her eyes for a moment, with a glint of lust. You climb on top of her, leaning your face closer to her, as smoke comes out of your mouth. "I'll show you." You put your cigar to the side, and you pull her into a kiss, which quickly turns into a heavy makeout session. She takes your leather jacket off, leaving you with only your wife pleaser on, with no bra. She stares at your chest for a bit, before pulling you back into the kiss. Her hands trailing your body, her fingers find themselves in your breast, playing with your nipples. You moan in the kiss, and you pull her by her hair to deepen the kiss. This surprised her, but she wast going to back down. You unbutton her top, exposing her bra. And she gets up, carrying you with your legs wrapped around her. She takes you to your room, and starts undressing. She unbuckles her belt, and with that, her strap springs out, and your eyes go wide with the size of it. "F-fuck, Sevika." She gives you a smug look, before getting back to the kiss. The kiss being much more hungrier, and needier by the second. Her fingers make their way on your pants, and Sevika quickly pulls it off of you, and throws it somewhere. Your legs spread, Sevika takes a good look at your wet panties, as you bite your lip. "So needy" she teases. She goes down, her face close to your cunt, as she looks up at you. She leaves hickies on your inner thigh, and you can't help but moan, while trying to grind yourself on her face.

She tightly grips your leg, and growls. "Don't be fucking needy. I'm gonna take my time with you." She says with an evil look on her face. "F-fuck, Sevika, please" you whimper and beg like a pathetic whore. "Please what?" She says, as she looks up at you, while her lips get closer and closer to your cunt, but not quite there. "Please, Sev, fuck me." You cry out. She grins, as she takes her finger, and rub circles around your clothed clit. "So fucking needy. Begging me to fuck you like the whore you are?" She teases. You scoff, "Fuck you" And with that, your panties are nowhere to be found. She's positioning her dick near your entrance, and thrusts inside you with no warning whatsoever. She didn't even give you time to adjust. You just cry out in pain, and pleasure, the toy stretching you out. Clearly, Sevika likes the look on your face like that, as she smiles, and goes to kiss, and guve love bites to your neck. She starts thrusting inside you, and you let out a loud moan. She takes her hard and plays with your nipples, as she sucks on the sweet spot on your neck. Tears streaming down your face by the pleasure, your eyes immedietly start rolling in the back of your head. You cry snd moan Sevika's name so loud, that people from another compound could probably hear you. "Y-yes! yes! just like that, f-fuck, Sev, F-Fuck!" She thrusts faster and faster, and you cann already feel the knot in your stomach starting to build up. "That’s right baby, tell everyone who's fucking you right now, fuck" She growls in your ear, you moans getting louder and louder. You throw your head back, and Sevika let's you ride your orgasm on her cock, and you let out a loud wail. "O-oh f-uck!" she doesn't stop pounding you, until your next orgasm. You're a sweaty crying mess by now, Sevika being the cause of it. The pleasure, the slight pain of her huge cock stretching you out. It was perfect, the way she fucks you. You pull her face to kiss you, but you quickly pull back, making an 'O' face, as you start to reach another orgasm. "F-f-fuck, S-evika! f-uck, d-don't stop!" At this point, you can barely even make up words anymore, all you can think about is the pleasure. You didn't care anymore, you were overstimulated, as your orgasm comes around, you grip Sevika's hair tightly, as you firce your tongue in her mouth, and moan in her mouth "mhmmm—fuck!" with tears in your eyes, Sevika returns the kiss, rougher, and now sloppier. Her thrusts slowing down. She pulls back from the kiss, and pulls out, seeing your juices cover her cock. She licks you clean, and then she smirks at you, and pulls you into another kiss, and flipping you two over.

"Suck it." You nod, as she wiles the tears froom your eyes. You gather some strength, slthough still a bit shaky, you go lower, and put her dick on your face. She just looks at the sight of the size of her cock next to your face. She pulls you by your hair to make you get up, and she puts her cock in your mouth. She bobs your head, enjoying the view of you sucking her off, and choking. She let's out low grunts and moans, your eyes beginning to tear up again, as you choke on her dick, and then you pull your head up. She's surprised by this action, and before she can say anything, you put her strap to the side, and start sucking on her clit.

Her moan get louder, her grip on your hair tightening, she's still controlling the pace, as you stick your tongue out, she fucks your face with her pussy. You put a finger in her, which makes her whimper a little, too quiet for anyone else to hear but you. You quicken the pace of your fingers inside of her, and she's grinding on your face, and bobbing your head. Your face soaked in her juices, and your saliva, she was basically drowning you in her pussy. You go faster and faster, and then she throws her head back, her grinding getting rougher, she lets out a gutteral moan, "A-ah fuck!" as she cums into your mouth.

She pulls your hear, and makes you get up to her face, and pulls you into a deep kiss. You both make out for awhile, while you play with her sensitive nipples. You both moan in the kiss, all needy, and hungry.

When you finally have enough, your body falls ontop of her, and her arm is placed on your back, holding you in place. You both catch your breath for awhile. And you smirk up at her. She looks at you, slightly confused, and then you give her a firm peck on the lips. She chuckles, and holds you in place. You both look at each other for awhile, and then, you snuggle up to her neck. "You're mine now, you know that?" You tell her, not asking, or leaving any room for argument. She snickers at you. "Whatever you say, boss~" She teases and smiles, as she combs your hair with her fingers. "Fuck, what's Silco gonna say?" She asked, a bit worried. You just laugh "Yeah, I kind of told him I had a teeny crush on his right hand woman." You admit. Her eyes go wide for a bit, surprised. "What did he say?" She asked. "He just nodded, and said go for it. And now you're in my fortress, and there's nothing you can do about it." You say, teasingly, as you stick your tongue out at her. She immedietly sucks your tongue, and you both laugh together, as you drift to sleep.

Who knew the two scariest women in Zaun would fall inlove with each other. Sevika often helps you with business now, and you help her. Silco's been a surprisingly good wingman too. He promised to sponsor your wedding, once you and Sevika were ready to settle down as a token of gratitude for your loyalty, and partnership with him, he said it was "The least I can do."

And you both lived happily ever after.

>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

Yeah, I started this last night a little buzzed, I bullshitted my way into writing this whole thing. Hope you like it, though 😉

[chocourse]

locked.

➶ leon scott kennedy x gn!reader ｡˚ °

-ˏ` ✎﹏ “I'm just saying, if you shut my mouth again, I'll bite you.”

If you have to hide in a closet from the Artist with your worst enemy, well... it raises a lot of problems. And the unresolved tension.

➴ genre: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, there was only one locker, in the dead by daylight universe

: ̗̀➛ warnings: mature content, a lot of cursing, some heavy kissing & lingering sexual tension, also david is bleeding

⌨ :: 3.4K words ♡ ︵ . .

⁀➷ @honeytwo was the one who checked the translation. thank you very much, xoxo! <3

⁀➷ a/n: i uploaded this oneshot to ao3 around halloween. i wanted to upload it here right away, but i didn't feel like editing the "cover" and creating a new masterlist. but now i did!

by the way, the fic itself is made around 2021, in my great leon and dbd brainrot. very nostalgic.

➳ mlist

"What's up? With you and Leon?"

Feng's question makes you raise your head. It's not just the subject that piques your interest, but the way her question comes in the form of a worried, tired sigh. She's usually this exhausted when the current killer has been chasing her for at least a minute and a half.

It surprises you so much that you almost let go of the generator’s wires, and that would be a fatal blunder. Instead, you grip them tighter so she can work undisturbed.

That question makes no sense. You think the answer is obvious. You and Leon Scott Kennedy, the cop who knows more than anyone, hate each other. He makes you impossibly annoyed when he gives you orders, commands and gets on your nerves.

“I'd rather see him on the hook than around me," you say, summing up your feelings about the man.

“Interesting…” 

You don't like her tone, so instead of concentrating to keep the wire from slipping out of your sweaty palm, you glare at Feng.

“What do you mean?" your voice is perhaps a little irritated, trembling slightly with focused tension.

“That's not what I saw. I mean, sometimes it does feel like you're at each other's throats, but other times it's the opposite.” 

You don't know what she's talking about when she says the other times are opposite. Yesterday, you refused to go to a generator with Leon when he took it too personally, and from two hundred yards away you shouted about each other's uselessness, unnecessary and totally unprofessional behavior. Of course, the murderer is not deaf, he took the opportunity to hang someone, so Leon got you both into trouble with his displeasure.

Before he did, he asked you whether you wanted him to let you off the hook or continue with his 15% generator. He even expected you to thank him afterwards.

But that's just the way he is. He can't see past his ego. So you turn to him with contempt in every situation and you don't understand what Feng is talking about. You find her weird waffling somewhat offensive.

“I, for one, want to jump at his throat as soon as I see him. Maybe I could do a better job than the killer.”

Feng shakes her head. You're watching out of the corner of your eye because you need to focus on the job. You can't mess up this generator now, chitchat or no chitchat.

“Okay. Tell me what you're getting at," you say impatiently.

"I don't think you hate each other one hundred percent," she tells you. "Mutually," she adds meaningfully, and you're so freaked out by this that not only do your words fail you, but you even wave your hand defensively, idiotically, as if you could dismiss this sinister, completely false idea.

In other words, you let go of the wire, the generator sparks the key and fires up loudly. You mishandled it, and in doing so, you let the killer have you gave away your location. Feng does not address you, nor does she turn towards you, simply, following emergency protocol, crouches in the grass and sneaks away from the scene until she is certain that the killer - whose identity is currently unknown - will not come here, or if they do, will leave. Shamefully, you follow. You hide behind a log and watch the scene from there.

Someone is coming, not from the front, but from the grass. It's David. He's wounded, clutching his side, which is bleeding quite badly. You try to pry off his fingers to see how bad the cut is, and he screams in despair, pulls away.

“We've got the Artist, and she didn't spare me,” he reports in great pain.

“Get me a bandage!” Feng gives the task to you, then takes David's arm supportively. “David, we'll get a safe distance from the generator. You have a tetanus shot, right?”

Feng is in charge, but listening to her isn't hard at all. You understand what she's doing, and you know she has the collective interest at heart. And she's logical. Unlike Leon's orders, which are given out of thin air to protect only one man: himself. That selfish bastard.

These are the thoughts you fire yourself up with to stop shaking with fear by the time you get to the hut. In their cellars, there is always a box to help survivors. It's not too far away, but you approach it stealthily just in case, listening for any noises. As you start down the creaking stairs, you worry for David and yourself: someone is already opening the box. You hear the squeak of the lock, and there can only be one of the four of you downstairs. You feel sick in the stomach with anticipation of the inevitable encounter.

You take the final steps. Two lockers are in front of you, and to your left is the room, four hooks bounded by a wooden wall, the perfect sacrificial site. From here it's harder to rescue the one who's been hooked, this room is riskier and more isolated than all the others. Beyond the hooks are a few more lockers, and in the corner is the box. 

And as you'd expect, Leon kneels in front of it. He's so busy, he doesn't even know you're here. If you were a killer, you could easily pick him up and have him fiddle around, the hooks are just a few steps away. Yeah, this careless jerk thinks he's in charge.

“Now I understand why we're so fucked with the generators.” You cross your arms, sizing him up. His hands are bandaged, his face is dirty, and he's never wearing something more practical than his police uniform. So pompous.

“If you're so worried, you could make one. Maybe it’d calm you down.” He looks up, frowns. He doesn't understand what you're doing here. It's really none of his business.

“The only thing that would calm me down was if you got your ass up and contributed to the unit. If there were four of us, we'd be done a lot sooner with less risk.”

“I get that you've got hero syndrome, but I don't need saving. I can take care of myself.”

“I can see that. At everyone's cost.”

It's like there's pain in his eyes, but you can't analyze it. Grimacing as he returns to his task, he hits the lock so hard it breaks. The understatement of opening the top is more like slamming it against the wall. You've either angered him or offended him, or both. He's a drama queen who doesn't take defeat well. You glance over his shoulder at the exposed bracket and sigh in relief. In the trunk are clothes, a flashlight, and, thankfully, a first aid kit.

The tension is suffocating, the silence could be cut. You have to speak.

“David's hurt. I'll take the med kit.” You're trying to sound less hostile, more objective. He might not give it to you because you've stabbed him in the soul. You would expect that from him. He nods unconvincingly, so you reach for the box's ear in a hurry before he changes his mind. He's picking out the flashlight.

You barely grip the med kit, crows flutter above, the sound of running filters down. Leon was too loud. There's no time to think of escape, no time to make plans. The man jumps up, pulls you into the nearest closet. In his fury, he is fortunately careful not to slam the door, but to close it gently. You let the box down beside you.

And you languish in the cramped space in the dark, with danger lurking. You don't feel like kicking him or arguing or mouthing off. You're scared. You hate the hooks down below. You've been down them once or twice. You don't like it, you don't want to go back. 

A shaky, deep groaning whimper rises up from inside you. Leon puts his palm over your mouth. You press yourself against the wall, trying to relax, to slow your breathing.

The Artist arrives. She walks around the room, squawking. 

You close your eyes. You imagine you're somewhere else. 

A door slams creakily open. You tense up, Leon's thighs tighten. You feel him take your hand, his fingers close around yours. He's shaking, but he's holding on better than you are. You don't pull your hand away, you let him hold it.

The killer walks a little more. Then she pauses, ponders her next move, and finally leaves.

The sound of your breathing will be the only source of sound besides the creaking of the hut. Leon takes his palm away from your face, deliberately, as if he's not sure it's time. You sigh, throwing your head against the side of the closet.

“I'm still of the opinion that we'd be better off if you helped with the generators.”

“You're making things bigger.” His words are stiff and reserved. There's no trace of the intimate hand holding you just had. If you had any tenderness towards him, he's lost it, as well as his sweaty hands.

“Isn't it big enough that we almost died because of your carelessness?”

“And you ignore your own mistakes.” You can't see his eyes, but yours are aflame. You don't understand this guy. You've got more important things to do than to let him piss you off. “I saved your life.”

“You were the one who put me in danger, asshole.” That would be your last word, you'd end the duel of stifled whispers, leave your hiding place, but Leon pushes your shoulders against the wall, his legs pressed against yours, hips clashing. Only now do you realize how close you really are, how little closet space there is. The atmosphere is still thick, yet somehow this is different. He's not finished, and your stomach clenches at the unpleasant ideas of what else he's going to throw at you.

“I need great fucking restraint and patience when I'm with you. But it's no use. You are incapable of cooperating with me,” he mumbles.

“Your enormous patience is like an ant's dick. I say two words to you and you're ready to attack.”

“Just like you,” he sighs. Clearly, he's had enough of you. The feeling is mutual, so you don't understand at all why he hasn't let you go yet. By the time he says what he wants, David is bleeding to death.

“I never claimed to have patience with you.”

“Will you please shut up and listen to me for once?" he growls belligerently, his fingers digging into your skin.

“I’m not your subordinate. I’m under no obligation to listen to you,” you mutter, and you have no thought of showing any less resistance in his direction. You wouldn’t be you if you listened to him.

“How can someone be this annoying?”

“Here, you don't even have to ask.” You shrug, but you can feel how much he's squeezing. “On the other hand, you could really get off of me. I'm busy. Maybe another time I'll tell you about the world of non-egocentric, non-narcissistic people, so you at least get the theory," you sputter with derision, your heart about to plunge into your esophagus and choke you.

“What can I do to shut you up?” He thinks out loud. 

“I'm just saying, if you shut my mouth again, I'll bite you.”

“Fuck.” Leon groans deeply, disgruntled, worried and angry. His palm hits the space next to your head, his lips crashing against yours.

Willingly and wearily he kisses you, really wanting you to be quiet. You moan in surprise at how well he kisses you, instead of punching him in the face.

Your mind is still churning out pithy retorts, but your body is acting as if it has been ready for this. You grab the back of the man's head, holding him close. You press your legs to his hips, your soles against the bottom of the other wall. Maybe you'll manage to pry the closet open the way this make-out session does your lungs.

You grip his hair, trying to push him away a little to catch your breath, to think clearly, but Leon sweetly whimpers and kisses you more passionately. You melt into his arm, his pleasant earthy scent mingling with sweat. You no longer want to think clearly. 

His tongue dances around yours, caressing you, and you enjoy it more than when he uses it to mess with you. You press so hard against each other that you know why his pants are so relentlessly tight. He bites your bottom lip gently, making you go limp. And you promised that if he shut your mouth, you'd bite him, not the other way around.

Your lust-fuelled, angry and excruciatingly sensual games end when you accidentally kick the first aid box. You cringe, the moment is gone, and you have no idea what happened. You stare ahead languidly, your lips tingling, feeling a bit dizzy.

Leon strokes your cheek. The rough material of the gauze bandage sneaks over your skin. He presses your forehead together, panting softly.

“Listen to me, please," he whispers, hopeful and soft. 

He speaks to you so softly that every part of you feels hot again. You nod, because after all this you need an explanation to go on with your life from the point you fell into this closet with the man. It's a stupid idea, but you trust that he has a reason for your reaction. For example, he wears a perfume so seductive that even the people who dislike him the most can't resist kissing him.

“I experienced hell a few months ago,” he starts.

“Did you meet me?”

“Hush.” He puts his finger on your lips, and it's so intimate you don't feel like biting. You want to lick it instead. You have no idea what's going on with you. It's Leon, and you hate him. You hate him. “Killers are smart. I have a great friend, Jill. Nemesis built his plan on our friendship. We almost got caught because we were both protecting each other at all costs. When I met the rest of the survivors, I couldn't let you get in trouble. I pushed you away right at the beginning, just in case something happened.”

You remember the first moments. Actually, you started to hate Leon because he had a cocky, arrogant and uncaring attitude towards everyone you cared about. You never thought that was a strategy, not the ultimate in rudeness.

“Then why did you kiss me?”

Your question makes what just happened very real. Because he did kiss you and you enjoyed it.

“Because I couldn't take it anymore. You know, it's hard to insult you when all I can think about is wanting to kiss you.”

Now you understand what Feng was talking about. Leon's longing gaze must have told her a lot about his true intentions. You're not sure about the mutuality, though. You've never said anything about Leon other than you hate him... But if you think about it, your body language may have conveyed something suspicious that you didn't realize. After all, you just threw yourself at him the first chance you got when his lips touched yours... How long have you had this desire lurking inside you if it's been triggered like this?

You don’t answer. You're confused, and while he caresses your cheek so tenderly, you're unable to say anything, or even just to open your mouth.

“I'm sorry if I've made you uncomfortable,” he apologizes, and fails to hide the disappointment in his voice.

“I think it's much easier to hate you than to love you," you sigh, throwing your head against the locker. That's all you can suddenly say.

“Is it also better?”

“Excuse me, but you hate me in my defense.”

“That doesn't answer the question.”

"I have no idea," you shrug. “I've never tried to love you. I haven't dared.”

“And would you try?" These are hopefully light words, almost falling out of the man's mouth. 

“When we’re alone like this? Keeping it a secret from everyone? Maybe.”

Okay, it's not maybe, but you need to be firm and reserved a little longer. He needs to believe that a mind-blowing kiss and a heartwarming confession like that didn't sweep you off your feet. After all, half an hour ago you were wishing for his hanging.

He's smiling. That's for sure. You're glad you can't see it, so he won't notice your face is red. At most, he can feel it. This time his mouth is roaming your face instead of his finger. You shudder when he touches your cheekbone because the love in his movements is sincere and caring. If only he had treated you like this from the beginning! He would have spared you some very high blood pressure numbers.

“We can't do that here…”

“No one can see us here. And I have to prove to you that it’s worth being with me.” He's mumbling onto the skin of your throat. You moan, when he kisses your neck eagerly. He grabs your hips. You pull him tightly to you by the small of his back, so eager to let him prove the truth of his words with lots and lots of kisses and touches.

But then you remember David’s wound, the box, Feng. You're on a mission now, and you can't be seduced, you can't collapse into Leon's muscular arms to be undressed and ignited into true love in this closet. You'd gladly give yourself to him, but not now, when your friends are counting on you. Plus, there's a killer on the loose.

“David” your gasp makes the name sound a little longing, so Leon stiffens, trails off slightly. You rest your palm on his chest, feel how it rises, how it sinks. “Bleeding. Med kit.” You try to let him know in small words that you're not fantasizing about another guy when he's kissing you with his soul, ready to give you all he has. You're trying to clear your head, because it's foggy and stunned. No one has ever fallen like that for you in a closet.

To be clear, once Hillbilly dragged you out, but he's not known to be a kisser.

“Okay," Leon nods, presses a final kiss to your lips, then pauses, his hand hesitantly on the doorknob, "but what about us?”

“I’ll think about it. "Your answer is fifty percent, but the cheerful kiss you quickly plant on his lips increases his chances by twenty percent.

He opens the door. There’s no proper lighting, just a few candles, but that also disturbs your eyes after the total darkness. You grab the first aid, and squint as you stumble out of the closet that’s guarding the memory of your kiss.

You dodge the hooks, climb the creaking stairs, and a set bird trap awaits you. If you step inside, the crows will attack, and are so loud that the Artist will find you immediately. You pass it cautiously.

You are soon back. Feng and David are almost where you left them, continuing the generator, only David is holding his side. It is a desperate action to repair the generator, it has to be done at all costs.

Your moves are not too blunt, Feng snaps her head up. They both look towards you, and suddenly you can't think of anything forceful to say to Leon, or grumble about his presence. Instead, you close your eyes, kneel beside them and open the box.

Feng and you work quietly to tend to David's wound.

You want to be remorseful, shameful, do everything you can to help him, but it's hard to concentrate on that when Leon is lurking not far away, and you're still spinning about how he kissed you. which you loved, and you were really selfish.

“I'm off to another generator," he announces, as if reading your jumbled thoughts.

“No need to announce it. No one here needs your company,” you throw the judgment at him mockingly.

Feng's eyebrows furrow, she snaps at you in a whisper. She didn't expect you to go at Leon again. Well, sorry, now you have to, just to keep up the pretense.

"I just want to clear the record," you shrug.

You lock eyes with Leon. A mischievous glance flickers in both of your eyes, because this is far from what it used to be. They don't know, but you do. It's exciting and new, but you can't wait to be alone with him again, locked in your honest feelings.

Your notes, comments and Leon thoughts are warmly welcomed! 💓

[amatoryscripts]

Never Let You Go

Pairing: Soft yan! Caleb x Fem! reader

Summary: You've had back-to-back missions lately, and Caleb's getting fed up and concerned. Not only is he worried, but he also hates that he hasn't been able to spend more time with you lately. When Jenna calls, saying she needs you on a mission with the team, he doesn't like the idea and intervenes with you going.

Warnings/tags. MDNI +18: Soft yandere Caleb, forcing you to stay home, poor baby cares too much, obsessive and possessive, unprotected sex, use of "baby girl" "princess" "baby" "pretty girl", MC giving him the silent treatment,makeup sex, biting, so good he tears up.

Lately, every time you turn around, a call from Jenna would come through about a mission that would take up hours of your day, sometimes even longer. How often you've been disappearing in the last two weeks was becoming concerning. Especially to Caleb, who has noticed this the most. How could he not? Every time you two had plans to be together, you had to cancel because of a last-minute mission due to wanderers lurking around. It didn't help his anxiety when you'd video call him after these missions; you'd be bruised up and getting bandaged by the medical techs during a majority of these calls. It pained him to see you in those conditions, as if his own heart could feel all the bruises and wounds you've accumulated on your body.

He always tells you that you can say no to a mission once in a while. Seeing you relax on his couch, reading one of your books while he made you food was a more enjoyable image than seeing you covered in blood and injured. Despite him asking you to do so many times, you refuse. Your response would always involve your worries of not being there for your team and helping to save those around. You were always putting other people first. Sometimes, he wishes you were as selfish as him.

Today was supposed to involve a relaxing date night at his apartment. The plan was to eat dinner and watch the movie they didn't get to last time cuddled up on the couch. In the kitchen, he was cooking a new dish you've been craving to try for a while. Oyster Rockefeller paired with lemon rice and sauteed Korean cucumber. When you mentioned your interest in it, he took note of the dish and garnered the ingredients for the day he knew you two would be together. This is the only thing he's been looking forward to all week.

You sauntered into the kitchen wearing one of his t-shirts and shorts. You've always liked wearing his clothes, but he especially likes it, thinking it makes you two feel closer. Plus, he thought it was cute when you'd hide half of your face and body in his shirts when sitting down. You rest your head against his back, taking in the smell of the seasonings invading the air. "Smells good," you hum, wrapping your arms around his torso. Caleb smiles at your embrace, wanting you to stay attached to him like this all the time.

"I should be done in the next hour or so," he informed you, sautéing the aromatics. He could tell how happy you were that he was making this dish for you. He took pleasure in doing things like this. He didn't mind it one bit, relishing in your happiness and the way your face lights up when he would take care of you. You're very independent, but take advantage of the way he wants to do everything for you. Sometimes, you wonder if you're taking advantage of poor Caleb, but he would always respond with how his only wish in life was to make yours as easy as possible.

"I was thinking we could also play Mario Ka-" You were cut off by the sound of a call trying to get your attention. Caleb already had a clue of who it could be. He puts down the knife he was using to split open the cucumbers and watched as you took the phone out of your pocket. It was Jenna, as always.

"Don't answer it," his low and dark tone caught you off guard for a split second. He knew Jenna was gearing up to swoop you away, once again, to go fight off wanderers they could take down by themselves without you. He didn't understand why they always needed to involve you in all these missions.

"Caleb, I have to," you remind him, letting go to answer the phone. As you turned around to pick up the call, you suddenly felt your body be immobilized. "Huh?" you grunt, trying to move but to no avail. Caleb walks in front of you, taking the phone from your hand. He was using his evol to keep you from moving and answering the phone. His arms swing over your shoulder, covering your mouth with his hand as he answers the phone.

"Hello?... Hi, Jenna... sorry she can't come to the phone," you muffled through his hands, trying to get him to stop. Your eyes demanding for him to let you go. "She's actually pretty sick... yeah, it must be a stomach bug. Poor thing can barely even speak," he smirks, looking down at you. "I'll tell her you hope she gets better. Bye now," he hangs up the phone and places it on the counter. He continues to keep you restrained but removed his hand so you can speak.

"Caleb! Why would you do that?!" You press as you watch him go to lock the front door and return to your side.

"I don't think you should go on that mission," concern and domianance coats his voice as he caresses your cheek with his thumb. She knew he hated her going on missions, but to basically keep you hostage irked you in so many ways.

"That's not really up to you," you struggle. Caleb's overprotectiveness was nothing new to you. He's always made it known that he would never let anything happen to you and would always protect you. You appreciate and even love that he feels this way, but it didn't mean he could stop you from making your own decisions. "Let me go." Your tone is firm as you stand your ground.

"Only if you promise to stay here and let your team handle everything," he attempts to bargain with you, hoping you'd give in easily. Your stubbornness was the real threat to him. He wouldn't put it past you to try and run out of the apartment as soon as he let you go, attempting to join your team in their fight against the wanderers terrorizing wherever Jenna wanted to send you off to.

"I can't leave my team behind," you retort, thinking about how your absence might affect them. They were strong, and you had faith in them, but that didn't mean you were okay with the idea of not being there when they might need you.

"They'll be fine," he assures you. "But I won't be if you come back hurt again. It took you days to recover last time, and now they're trying to send you back out there." His voice is tender, wrapped with a hint of frustration. The last thing he wanted to see was you covered in bandages with blood soaking through and bruises not caused by him decorating your body.

He wasn't wrong. You weren't fond of coming home all banged up, but you took this job to protect people, something you want to do. If that meant sometimes getting hurt, then so be it. "Caleb, I'm strong enough to protect myself. I don't need you treating me like glass. I'll always get a scratch here or there, but it comes with the territory, and I accepted that. You need to do the same." You didn't get this far by being fragile. Jenna put you on her team for a reason, and Caleb needed to start seeing you as someone strong and capable, not the little girl he would protect from bullies and danger 24/7.

He stayed silent, cupping your face and staring into your fiery eyes. He just wants to keep you like this. At his whim and safe from the cruelties of outside. Was that so wrong? Wanting to keep you locked away being only with him?

"You can't keep me from doing my job," she sighs, knowing he was just scared of losing you again. They both shared that fear, so she understood him well.

"I can try," his assertion not wavering, standing strong in his goal to keep you here. "You're not leaving. You're going to eat dinner, and we're going to watch the movie like we planned, okay?" All he could think about was how this interruption was ruining this time meant for you two to be alone.

You were silent, your frustration consuming you as you stared at him with narrow eyes. You knew trying to run off would be futile. He looks the most determined she's ever seen him. Jenna already thinks you're sick, so what's the point? After another few seconds of staring each other down, you give in. "Fine," reluctance infuses your words, knowing he wouldn't back down. He drops his evol, and you move your shoulders around, relaxing your body.

At the dinner table, you weren't talkative like usual. Your attention was on the food, not looking up at Caleb once. You were too upset to properly enjoy the meal. Normally, you'd be showering him with compliments as you stuffed your face from happiness. At this moment, you were picking at the food, taking small bites as you worried about your team, wondering how the mission was going.

Caleb stabbed his plate, picking up a piece of the oyster on his fork, watching you ignore him. "I'm doing this to keep you safe," he suddenly says. You didn't look up, pushing a slice of cucumber in your mouth. He could even make cucumber taste amazing. You keep the praise to yourself, listening to him attempt to make you understand why he did what he did. "It drives me crazy when you're risking your life for others. Doing it back to back too often is insane." He grips his fork, which begins to bend slightly from his strength. "You can really hurt yourself if you keep pushing your body like this. I wouldn't forgive myself for letting you go out there to get hurt."

Still, you refused to acknowledge him, pushing the rest of your food around. As the silence continued, the sound of your phone receiving a message echoed. You checked the notification and saw it was from Tara, hoping you got well, while also informing you that the mission was a success and everyone was fine. That message made you smile for the first time since you sat down.

"I'm assuming you received good news and everyone's limbs are intact. Happy now?" You frown at his comment. You hope he didn't think she would forgive him easily because everyone was fine.

"Yeah, it's good to know I can stop feeling guilty for worrying about my teammates when I should've been there for them!" You hiss, standing up abruptly and marching into the bedroom, slamming the door behind you.

Caleb stays at the dinner table, not touching his food anymore from a loss of appetite. He didn't like it when you got like this. It made his heart crumble when you'd give him the cold shoulder and shut him out. All he wants is to be near you and make you happy. Now you were pissed and shutting him out. His worst fear, right below losing you forever. You were scary in this state, going from being sweet and loving to an eruption of anger.

You stayed in the room, covering yourself with the shirt you wore. holding your phone inches from your face as you caught up with your teammates. You heard Caleb leave the apartment a few minutes after you got up from the table. Curiosity about where he ran off to did creep around your mind, but you were still annoyed at his behavior. When you checked in with the last member, you felt better than earlier, knowing everyone got out without being heavily injured. Even if Tara confirmed this with you earlier, it still didn't feel right not checking in with them.

A knock at the bedroom door interrupts your scrolling through your Moment feed. You close the screen as you watch the door slowly open, a small, plushed brown bear poking it's head through the crack.

"Caleb wanted to say he was sorry and that he misses you. Can he come in?" a high-pitched voice, you assume coming from Caleb, chirps. You couldn't help the small smirk that danced on your lips. You stifle it as you respond. "You can come in".

Caleb's large body pushes through the door, holding the bear as he approaches your side of the bed with the peace offering. "I went to the arcade and saw this little guy," he explains as he holds the bear out for you. You take the gift, examining its little face and soft fur. "Bears are cute and cuddly, but we know they're ferocious when provoked."

"You calling me a bear?" your brows raise in amusement at his comment.

"Absolutely," his response makes you chuckle, almost forgetting why you were mad at him in the first place. You shove your face in the back of the plushies head as you took in how it smelt like Caleb already. He watches you indulge in the bear, looking more peaceful than before.

"I'm sorry," he finally says, sitting beside you. His hand travels to your blanket-covered legs, giving them a small squeeze. "I shouldn't have lied to Jenna and stopped you from going on the mission". You raise your head, listening to what he had to say. " I...I was just scared. I didn't want to see you get hurt again. "I was selfish, not wanting you to disappear for hours while I would be here alone without you while you missed dinner and the movie." His voice was infused with an apologetic tone laced in sadness. You could tell he was just worried and wanted to do whatever he could to keep you protected.

You run your hand over his. "I want you to have more faith in me and my abilities to protect myself". His heart jumps at your touch and the softness in your voice. "I know me being a hunter is worrisome for you, but you have to believe that I'll be okay."

"I do have faith in you. I just can't stop thinking about what would happen if something goes wrong. If a wanderer hurt you or someone else did, I'd go crazy." His grip becomes tighter at the thought. You squeeze his hand to show him that you were there with him and not off getting hurt, trying to bring him back to the present.

"I can't promise I'll never get hurt, and I'll always be in the best condition, but no matter what, I'll always come back to you. That I can promise." He wants to say; How do you know you'll always come back? , but he didn't want to dwell on that thought when you were touching and looking at him with so much promise and affection in your eyes. He didn't want his worries to ruin this moment. Instead, he leaned in and planted a kiss on your lips. It started off soft and innocent but transformed deeper, filled with yearning.

"You promise?" he questioned, breaking the kiss to look at you as he cupped your face, not wanting to ever let go of it.

"I promise I'll always come back to your side," she whispers, leaning back in to continue the kiss.

Heavy breathing and whimpers flooded the silent room. Your face contorted in pleasure as Caleb's fingers worked their way inside of you, pumping at a rhythmic but swift pace, watching how you took his fingers perfectly, coating them in your wet heat. His lips found that delicate spot on your neck as he nibbled and sucked on it, drawing out those sweet moans he loved hearing from your lips. "You sound so cute like this, baby," he comments in a dark, sensual tone. "I wanna hear more." His thumb joins in on the fun, circling over your throbbing, sensitive pearl, sending waves of pleasure through your body. Your body jolts and twitches as you cry out for him.

"Caleb! fuck...feels so good," you mewl into his hair, gripping his shoulder tightly, nails digging into his skin leaving behind crescent marks. His fingers could feel your walls tightened around them, signaling how close you were.

"That's it. Cum all over my fingers, pretty. Be a good girl for me, okay? Let me take care of you". He moans into your neck, feeling how hard he was getting from the sounds you were making and the tightness of your cunt sucking him in. His movements mixed with his words, encouraged your peak to shoot through your body, cumming all over his fingers. He slows down, drawing out your orgasm before bringing his fingers to his mouth, tasting you on his fingers.

"You taste so sweet," he coos, cleaning his fingers off as if he was desperate to get every last bit into his mouth. "Let me taste you some more," he whispers darkly before dropping his head between your legs. You let out a soft gasp as he connects his mouth to your soaking pussy, wasting no time to lap up your juices and shove the same fingers he just licked clean, right back inside. The combination pushes you further into your pleasure. He's relentless in his goal to drive you crazy. He sucks on your sensitive nub, humming in delight as you lose your words, spilling out whimpers and cries from how he was ruining you. Your fingers found his head and began grasping at his dark locks, pulling at them from the stimulation engulfing your body. He groans in satisfaction, loving when you got handsy like this. "Harder," he commands in a low groan. It didn't take much for you to tug on his hair even more. He made sure of it when he spread your legs wider, giving him the change to fuck his fingers in deeper.

"Caleb!" you call out, your voice soft and trembling. "I'm...ah~', your squealing elicits a wicked chuckle from his throat. "No, no. I can't, I can't." Your face twists as you lose confidence in your ability to cum again for him.

"Yes, you can," he growls, picking up his pace as he continues sucking your clit as your hips buck into his mouth. His fingers curl up into you, hitting that perfect spot that makes your back arch. "You can do it. I wanna taste you cum all over my mouth" he sucks harder on her clit causing a high pitched whine to spill from her lips "Just one more time. Please, baby? I'll make you feel so good, I promise" he pleads for you to let yourself cum on his mouth. You whimper and buck your hips as your release finds you once again, dripping all over his lips as he hums in satisfaction. "Fuck... your such a good girl for me". He finishes lapping up your juices as if he was licking a plate clean.

Your chest rises and falls as you catch your breath, watching him push one leg back to your chest. He wasn't done yet; he couldn't be satisfied until he was buried deep inside of you. He lines his throbbing cock between your legs, rubbing his tip up and down your wet folds. "You want more of me, pretty girl?" he purrs, trying to hold back from slamming into you the way he wants.

You look at him with pleading eyes, nodding feverishly as you bring your arms up to wrap around his neck, wanting the same thing that was clouding his mind. He drops his head down to her ear, gripping her hip tightly as he nibbles and licks her lobe. A shiver infiltrates her body, going down her spine, causing her to push herself up into him.

"Come on, use your words, princess," he insists, pushing his teasing cock between her folds just enough to make her groan in impatience.

" Please, Caleb. I need you," she whines. He drops down to you tits, playing with one while he sucked the nipple of the other, nibbling just enough to make your legs kick and wrap around him from the sensation.

" What do you need, hm?" he smirks, wanting to hear you beg some more. "You need my cock fucking this cute little pussy? you want me to ruin you, baby?" his voice was dark and tainted with lust as he twisted your nipple. " Cause I'll fucking ruin you if you want."

"Yes," you breathe, followed by a small whine. "I need you to fuck me so badly." her plea doesn't become lost on him. He pushes himself into her, groaning from feeling how tight she was around his tip.

"Oh fuck!" he grunts, pushing further into you, watching the way your mouth part and eyes flutter. Once he saw you'd taken most of him, he pulls back slowly and shoves himself back in, evoking a loud cry from you that he soon began to devour, moaning into your mouth as his hips thrust into you. his movements were hungry, wanting his cock to be the only thing you could feel. He breaks the kiss, looking down at you watching how your tits bounced against your chest, gripping your hips tightly pushing them back onto him. "You look so pretty like this, baby. Do you like how I feel?"

You could barely speak, feeling too consumed by him stretching you out. You bit your lips, stifling your cries as your body succumbed to the warm heat spreading through you.

"Answer me, princess," he thrusts into her harder, making her gasp and whine as she grips the side of the bed.

" Yes!" she wails. " Love it so much...please... need more," you pant, catching his purple eyes that have darkened from his craving. He drops into the crook of your neck, lifting your hips up to give him more leverage. He slams into you erratically, the sound of your skin meeting repeatedly dancing in the air, mixing with moans and grunts trickling from both of your lips as the headboard crashes into the wall behind you.

"Wanna stay like this forever" he groans, using his hand to rub circles around your clit, adding more intensity to your body. "Fuck! Wanna always be buried in this tight pussy. Wanna feel you like this all the time." he expresses his desires, occasionally letting out a small whimper from how you were clenching around him. "Never wanna leave you. Never." His thrusts turn sharper as each word escapes him. You feel a drop of water meeting your collarbone, sparking confusion. You look down at him, lifting his head to meet your face. Tears were prickling the corner of his eyes as he looked at you with emotions and yearning flooding his gaze. "Please don't leave me," he grovels, continuing his sloppy movements inside of you.

"I won't," you mutter, kissing his forehead softly. You couldn't help but think of how cute he looked like this. So desperate for her that it brought him to tears.

"Say it," he begs, feeling himself getting closer. "Say you'll never leave me. Say you'll always be here. I need to hear you say it...please." He bites her shoulder, scrunching up his face as his balls tighten, ready to give you all of him. You mewl from his bite, a mixture of pain and pleasure taking over you.

" I'll never leave you, I promise! I promise!" your cries swamp his mind as he finds himself shooting his hot cum deep inside of you, letting your voice permeate his mind. His release is thrust deeper inside as his hips slow down, refusing to pull out. He looks down at himself inside of you movingly slowly, taking in the white ring around the base of his cock, as streaks of his cum drips down your inner thighs.

You wrap your arms around his neck, bringing his attention to your lips. Your kiss is soft and saturated with affection. You could tell he's been worried about this for so long. The thought of you leaving one day, always floating and haunting him in the back of his mind.

"I'm gonna hold you to that promise," he murmurs, catching his breath as he crashes on top of you, ensuring he didn't suffocate his precious girl. With his eyes closed, his fingers drew patterns on your warm stomach.

"And I'll make sure to always keep it." You kiss the top of his head, pulling him in closer as you pet his soft head, showing that you would never let go.

[pomefioredove]

Hello! Hope your day has been going good :)

May I get a sugar cookie, #12, with frosting, candy cane, and marshmallows please and thank you!

another yummy combo

order #12, sugar with frosting, candy cane, marshmallows

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ for chivalry's sake

summary: sebek accidentally wrecks your room and has to pay the price tropes: only one bed, roommate au, friends to lovers characters: sebek additional info: romantic, gender neutral reader, reader is yuu, kissing

"IT WAS NOT MY FAULT! IT WAS THAT TERRIBLE DIREBEAST!"

"NUH-UH! I'M INNOCENT! I'M THE VICTIM HERE!"

Both you and Crowley take your hands off your ears as Sebek and Grim sit, simmering with contempt. Lilia picks at his teeth.

The Headmage sighs. "...I understand it's a... complicated situation-"

"There ain't nothing complicated about it! He said he was a better mage than me!"

"WHICH IS CORRECT!"

"-Regardless," Crowley interjects. "There is still a hole in the roof of Ramshackle. I cannot have my errand runner- er, students living in such conditions."

Sebek crosses his arms. "Yes, yes, humans are weak and frail. What does that have to do with me?"

"Now, Sebek, be chivalrous," Lilia says, smiling, as if the whole thing was funny to him. Sebek grumbles.

"Seeing as you were involved in the incident, Mr. Zigvolt, I think the Prefect should stay with you until the hole has been repaired,"

The disbelief is unanimous. "WHAT?!"

Grim's fur bristles. "I ain't staying with that guy!"

"AND I WOULD NEVER!"

"I would like to sleep this week, thank you," you mutter.

Crowley hums. "Now, now. Being as clever as I am, I knew you would never agree. Worry not, Mr. Vanrouge has volunteered to, ah, babysit Grim in the evenings. Peace and quiet!"

Lilia smiles sweetly.

But it is not, in fact, peace and quiet.

Though Grim is unable to burn any more holes in the roof, Sebek is as unapproachable as ever.

Actually, unapproachable wouldn't even begin to describe it.

"I will surely lose sleep during this," he mutters, pacing the bedroom. "Then I will perform poorly during training. That incompetent Headmage! What would Grandfather think? I was told to be chivalrous, but this is foolish!"

You watch from the bed, tired, but kept well awake by him. "Well, you're not going to get any sleep like that. You should come to bed,"

Sebek bristles, as if you'd insulted him. "QUIET, HUMAN! CAN'T YOU SEE I'M THINKING?"

You stare back. It had been a long time since he'd snapped at you, and longer since he'd called you "human" rather than your name. Does sharing a room really bother him that much?

Sebek sees your expression and softens.

"I apologize. I am... I'm... I only- I don't-"

Oh. Of course.

You face him as he paces the room.

"Sebek," you say. "Are you... nervous to share a bed?"

He stops. And he blushes. "THAT'S PREPOSTUROUS!"

You decide to have mercy on him, suppressing the laughter that so desperately wants to come out. "Heh, it's okay. I won't tell anyone,"

"There's- there's nothing to tell!"

You smile and stand in front of him. Sebek looks about ready to burst, his face red, his fists clenched at his sides. If you focus on his hands, you might even catch a tremble.

"THAT'S CLOSE ENOUGH!" he shouts, though he's leaning in, too.

Your smile softens, and before he can open his mouth to shout again, you kiss him. Whether for instinct or for chivalry's sake, he kisses back, holding your face in both palms and pulling you closer.

...And then he realize what he's doing, and his knees give out.

Your eyes widen. "Are you-"

"I'M WELL," Sebek stands, stiffly, salutes as if you were his sergeant, and then runs to the door.

"I-I think I will stay with Lilia tonight! So as to- get my sleep! Good evening, Prefect!"

And then he's gone. You smile. His nervousness is sweet, in a way- and even if Lilia doesn't force him, he'll be back.

He's chivalrous, after all.

[gothghostiie]

the babysitter!reader chronicles shall continue for I am babysitting

cw: fluff, age gap, size difference if you squint, gn!reader

price arranging for you to stay for a bit over 2 weeks, he's on deployment spontaneously and no one he usually asks has time. he really doesnt want to bother you, doesn't wanna overwhelm you with the calm little infant and suddenly staying a whole two weeks and then some at his place. but you're his last option, hes desperate, quite frankly. so he gives you a call and you're absolutely delighted to come over, even if it's on short notice. how could you not go see your favourite baby? so now here you are, around 1 ½ weeks in, all cozy in his home. you're having dinner with the baby when a set of keys jingle in the door.

You loom up, a bit worried, honestly. no one should have a key, john didn't tell you anyone was coming over - and you frankly didn't believe he'd send someone to check up on you out of the blue. you listen close, a set of heavy steps making you perk up, even the baby is silent at the look of concentration on your face. the door closes and a heavy thud follows shortly after - then a loud groan. your face immediately lightens up and so does the baby's, you both recognise the low voice. you shimmy out of your seat, the little one making grabby hands at you, wanting out of their highchair. you quickly lift the baby, settling it onto your side and scrambling towards the front door, both of you giggling softly at the sight of price stretching, old bones cracking. "Look who's there!" you loudly whisper to the infant, who babbles happily. John looks just as happy as them, you can see the resemblance once again (especially in both their chubby cheeks, paired with the smile). he doesnt even bother taking off the fingerless gloves on his dirty hands before grabbing his little one, snuggling them to him as they giggle and squirm.

"there's my favorite sweethearts.." he murmurs softly, pressing a kiss to the little head. his voice is rough and raspy, he's been yelling, his lips are chapped and dry, there's dark bags under his eyes - and yet he's still smiling down at both of you. he settles the baby against his side, eyeing you over briefly, his smirk widening. "C'mere." he says gently, lifting his other arm to pull you in close, against the black fleece jacket he's wearing. you hesitate just briefly before hugging him back, heat creeping into your face.

"You're home early." you say softly, relaxing into him a bit as his big hand rubs your back gently, cradling the back of your head to make you lean against his chest.

"mh. got finished earlier than we anticipated." he says briefly, his tone telling you you better not keep poking; so you don't. you stay like this for a few more moments - even if he could've stayed like this for much, much longer. you pull away, straightening your clothes a little as you clear your throat; taking the baby again.

"You gotta be starving. How about you go shower and I'll fix you a plate? Just go sit in the living room when you're done, your show should still be on."

John never wanted to marry anyone more.

[bootsukki]

operation: does tsukki like (y/n)?

hinata never meant to hit you in the face. it just... happened. you were walking into the gym holding a bag of clean uniforms when one of his spikes when extremely out of hand and instead of aiming for tsukishima's block, the ball landed on your face with a loud "smack!".

the ball ricocheted off your face with a thud and you stumbled backwards, your hands clutching your nose.

"oh my, (y/n)!" hinata panicked, running over to your side, but before he could even reach you, a large hand grabbed his shoulder and pushed him away.

"move," hinata stopped at the sight of tsukishima crouched beside you, his hands grabbing the back of your neck to check any possible injures with a look of actual concern, deep frown of his brows and eyes looking all over your face. "does it hurt anywhere? let me see your nose."

everybody in the gym blinked. even the first years who were scared of tsukishima were whispering about it: about the fact that he, the oh so stoic and angry tsukishima kei was softly checking on you, the sweet and lovely manager. tsukishima never talked to people like... that. he barely looked like he cared about anything or anyone but there he was, touching your face like you were made of the most precious material of the world.

hinata turned around, walking outside the gym as if he had just discovered the most scandalous secret.

tsukishima likes (y/n).

does he? well, he doesn’t know for sure! but that was something!

and so, the operation: does tsukki like (y/n)? was born. well, after a few text messages to a group he made without you or tsukki of course, texting everything to his three other friends that had missed practice today because of math tutoring.

step one: gather reinforcements.

that same night, an emergency meeting was scheduled in kageyama's house with kageyama, yamaguchi and yachi.

"i need to find out if tsukki actually likes her," hinata stated, hands on his hips as he tried to find ways to possibly catch the couple together.

"i mean... is that really necessary?" kageyama added, looking at a youtube video on his phone. "i don't think they are dating."

"why?"

"(y/n) is too sweet and tsukishima, well... he's my friend but..."

"hey!" yachi said. "tsukishima is great. he's smart and tall, i'm sure a lot of girls want to date him."

"yeah, but... (y/n)? i don't know..."

"he was acting sooooo weird when she got hit," hinata explained, trying to reenact tsukishima's worried face, which mostly looked like a bad impression of a wild animal. "and! i keep seeing them together!"

"they go to the same class, they have been friends for years and they live in the same neighborhood."

"i don't know, hinata..." yamaguchi talked for the first time. "i don't know, tsukki has always taken care of us in his own special way... he cares about us equally i think."

"maybe the best thing wse could do is ask?"

"yeah, no." hinata shook his head. "i would rather die than suffer the anger of tsukishima."

"what about (y/n), yachi?" yamaguchi turned to look at the girl. "you are best friends after all."

"we never talk about that so asking about it would be weird."

"the best thing we can do is to let it go, maybe you're just exaggerating, hinata." kageyama said, leaving his phone behind and grabbing a ball from the floor. "up for some practice outside?"

step tw- wait, there is no step two.

a few days after the incident, hinata had already forgotten about it and did not bother the others with the topic again.

after practice that friday, kageyama had one simple goal: grab his english notebook from the volleyball club room and go home to watch a match on tv.

easy, right?

no.

as he approach the club room, he heard voices from inside. he barely paid attention at first—there were other clubs having activities on the rooms next to theirs, but when he reached the door and pushed it open, he froze.

because his mind was about to explode.

there, standing in the middle of the room were two of his friends—way too close for just friends.

tsukishima had one hand resting on (y/n)’s waist, his other arm loosely wrapped around her back. and you? you were even worse! one of your hands was buried in tsukishima’s hair while the other one was… UNDER HIS SHIRT? WHILE KISSING HIM??????

WHAT.

kageyama’s soul left his body, he needed to leave and try to erase the mental image of his friends kissing but instead—

“HOLY SHIT.”

you yelped, jumping away from tsukishima and hiding yourself in a corner of the room.

tsukishima, on the other hand, was livid. “are you serious?”

kageyama was in shock, his arms flailed like a malfunctioning robot as he pointed at them. “W-WHAT—YOU—”

you were still trying to calm yourself “kageyama, calm down—”

“CALM DOWN?! I JUST SAW—YOU AND TSUKISHIMA— AND YOUR HANDS TOUCHING HIM…” he looked genuinely offended. “WHAT IS HAPPENING?!”

tsukishima sighed aggressively, rubbing his temples. “use your brain, dumbass. what does it look like?”

kageyama’s mouth opened and closed like a fish. his eyes darted between them, his face growing redder by the second.

“OH MY GOD,” he finally blurted out, shoving his hands into his hair like he was personally betrayed. “THIS IS WORSE THAN I THOUGHT.”

you rolled your eyes. “It’s really not that big of a deal—”

“NOT A BIG DEAL?!” kageyama practically threw himself out of the club room, tripping over his own feet as he ran out like the room was on fire. “I DON’T WANT TO HAVE TO TELL HINATA HE WAS, INDEED, RIGHT FOR THE FIRST TIME IN HIS WHOLE LIFE.”

“what?” you both called after him.

within minutes, hinata’s scream could be heard through the school.

operation: does tsukki like (y/n)? complete. conclusions: they are in love.

[moonlightazriel]

Main Masterlist

Suguru Geto, who still mourns you every day, even though you're still alive. He mourns what would've been like to hold you, to wake up by your side every day, to see you smile so lovingly at him like you used to.

Suguru Geto, who wishes you never went to that cursed village, never accepted that mission, it should've been him instead. He never really knew what happened, all he was told was that you "deserted your mission and didn't fulfill your duties, she's considered a curse user and should be found to be executed."

Suguru Geto, who spent years looking for you, his best friend, the love of his life. The sweet girl who always had a sweet treat for him after a mission, helping him with the bad taste the curses left in his mouth. The sweet girl who held him silently, stroking his hair and being there for him whenever the thoughts in his head became too much to bear.

Suguru Geto, who still goes to the same coffee shop you loved, hoping to catch a glimpse of you, just a flash, it was all he needed to know you were alright. Who sat at the same booth, drank the same coffee, and watched the door, hoping that one day you would walk through.

Suguru Geto, who is surprised when two teenagers approach him at that same table, the girls, clearly twins, shared a look of relief and sat down, smiling brightly at him. He was even more surprised when they slid a photo towards him. He recognized Satoru, his tongue poking out of his mouth, pointed towards the camera. He recognized himself, one hand in his pocket while he pretended to be annoyed at the two other people, and then was you, holding his other hand, while you laughed at Satoru's silly face, your big, wide smile, from when life still made sense to him.

Suguru Geto, who is overwhelmed by emotions and frantic thoughts as he listens to them, their concerned expressions and worried laced voices, as they tell him about how their mom still cries, clutched to a black shirt, one that belonged to him, and still kept photos of the two of them. They tell him about how they wanted to help their mama to be happy again and they needed him to bring her joy, and they don't leave him alone until he agrees to help.

Suguru Geto, who can't sleep that night, has too many things in his head, and all of them about you. He needed to know what happened, why did you leave him without even saying goodbye? How was that easy for you to leave? Did you still love him like you used to? Because he did, not even for a second, even though all those years had passed, he still loved you like he did when he was eighteen.

Suguru Geto, who drives the twins to a more secluded area, away from the chaos of Tokyo, just like you said you would like to do one day, he arrives at a nice, cozy home, with flowers decorating the entryway, a big garden with fruits and vegetables growing, and kneeling on the ground, wearing a sundress and tending to the plants, you. The one who got away.

"Mommy, we're home!" One of the twins, Nanako, announced, and you turned to him. Your hair was slightly shorter, your eyes had lost their spark but you still looked so damn beautiful that made his knees go weak just from the sight of you.

"Suguru?" You asked, clearly in disbelief, feeling like you were hallucinating from the heat. He stood there, his hair cascading over his shoulders, bigger than you remembered, and you remembered so many details about him, even if you tried so hard to erase his existence from your life, you could never forget about him.

You felt the tears heavy in your eyes, moving unsurely towards him, you had left him, he had all the right to hate you, to never talk to you again, but as you approached him, close enough for him to touch you, he pulled you closer by the waist like he always did, his large, warm hand cupped your cheek and you felt the tears running down your face.

"You're as beautiful as the day I lost you." He had said it so tenderly that a sob escaped your parted lips, you allowed your head to rest against his chest, and he buried his nose in your hair, inhaling your scent, his hands touching, poking, and roaming, feeling your body against him. Real. You were real and here he was, his heart overwhelmed by love and betrayal, you had left him, you left him alone when he needed you the most, he never got over you and what you did. Before he could argue, your voice caught his attention.

"I'm so sorry I left." That took him by surprise, he always thought that this day would never come, that he would never really know what had happened, but here he was, having the chance to understand you, to mend the void that opened up in his chest the day you left. "My loves, can you please prepare some tea for our guest? We have a lot to talk about!"

He watched as the twins nodded at you, going inside as you took him by the hand, silently guiding him towards a large tree, two swings waited for the two of you, and as you set, he looked at the lake behind your house, the water calmly resting, the view making him feel a little less anxious for the conversation that was about to happen.

"When I accepted that mission, I didn't know what it was about." Your voice wavered, and tears still fell from the corners of your eyes, but you didn't face him, too ashamed to do so. "All they told me was that two cursed spirits were hunting that village and I should get rid of them. When I arrived there, two beautiful little girls were imprisoned there, they had bruises and they were hungry. The way they talked about them, like they were some kind of disgrace, I couldn't accept that. When I opened the cell door, the two clung up to me, begging for me to take them away from that place." He closed his eyes, trying to imagine what he would've done if it was him, the thoughts that consumed his mind were far away from what's considered right.

"And that's what I did, I ran away with them. I was going to tell you, I swear I was, but when the higher ups demanded I take them back, that they should be killed, I lost my faith in the jujutsu world. How could they ask that to me? How could they expect me to kill children like that? After what had just happened to Amanai... I couldn't bear the thought of being responsible for another young life taken away from this world. So I left to make sure they would have a life, they would experience it all. It was hard at first, I was barely 18, but I managed to raise them, and they're so good Sugu, you have to see how smart they are. I would never forgive myself if I allowed something to happen to them."

"You could've told me, I would've run away with you, I would do anything for you." His voice was raw with emotion and you were looking at him now, seeing all the distress and pain in those eyes.

"If I had told you, they would try and kill you too, I could never ask that of you. To leave your life behind." He laughed dryly.

"That's the part you don't understand, I would gladly give up that life for you, I would leave everything behind for you, because you were all that mattered to me, all that I needed." He sighed. "I loved you to the point that I wouldn't mind."

"Loved..." You repeated back to him and he just laughed harder.

"Fuck it." He got up, and pulled you up with him, cupping your cheek and pulling you so close you were breathing the same air, his lips closed the small gap, taking you by surprise, you melted against him and it felt like a day hadn't passed, he was still your Suguru, the man you loved with all of your heart, the man you could never forget about, the man that made you so madly in love that you never tried anything with no one else, because they weren't him.

"Loved" is the wrong word because I never stopped, not even for a minute. I love you, and I also hate you for leaving me. What you did is unforgivable, I'll never be able to get all those years we should've spent together back and I hate it. But I don't want to waste a single moment again, I'll never let you go again, and if they want to kill me for it? Fuck it. I love you." He breathed, his forehead against yours.

"I love you too Sugu, and nothing is taking you away from me again." You kissed him again.

Satoru Gojo who received two letters a month later, one announcing that Suguru Geto had officially deserted from his position and was considered a curse user. And another one, a photo of Geto, you and two teenage girls, the only thing written in Suguru's messy handwriting was an address and "Bring Megumi and Shoko with you."

[its-luna-noel]

your obstinate charge | astarion ancunin

Astarion has never been allowed to say 'no' before. When he does, he realizes who he wants to say 'yes' to. You realize that he could kill you here, right now, in any number of ways. He could slit your throat, drive a dagger beneath your ribs & pierce your heart, bleed you dry until you're nothing but a memory upon this land. You realize this, and yet your body relaxes in his hands. You trust him completely.

warnings: 18+, MDNI, afab reader but any pronouns, durge reader, act 2 spoilers, previous abuse, smut, oral (f! & m! receiving), blood drinking

word count: 5.3k

masterlist | link to ao3

notes: hello! i wrote this last year and posted on ao3, and i wasn't going to cross post since my blog is mostly jjk, but i reread it and was really proud of it, so here it is on tumblr! ty for reading & hope you enjoy!

Everyone at camp can see that Astarion is in a foul mood.

You arrived back at Last Light after your first journey to Moonrise Towers, finally having arrived at your end goal to destroy these tadpoles, and before you could all share your discoveries with the rest of the party, Astarion strode off towards the waterline, ducking into darkness before you could grab him.

You stare after him for a moment and shake your head. Then you turn towards the fire, folding your legs under you as you ready yourself for dinner.

Gale passes you a wooden bowl of the same stew you'd been eating since arriving in the Shadow-Cursed Lands. "How did it go?" he asks.

You shake your head again, shoving food in your mouth, and lift your shoulder in a shrug. "We found Ketheric," you explain, offering the memory of your meeting to Gale through your tadpoles. He grimaces as you share the images of Ketheric pulling the axe from his chest. You withdraw your mind from his and continue to eat. "We've convinced them that we're True Souls, for now. We'll see where it takes us."

Gale begins to speak over his own meal, airing his many ideas to the party as the others gathered around the fire. But your thoughts drift, and you aren’t even lucid enough to feel guilty for ignoring him; all you can think of was how you know Ketheric was somehow involved in your previous life, that life you can't remember. Determination begins to burn deep in your chest; you must find out what this all means.

Before you can try to sort out your disordered thoughts, Karlach plops down beside you, the heat of her warming you on all sides as she digs into her stew.

"Hey," she says through a mouth full of food, "what's wrong with Fangs?"

You shrug, pulling apart your warm roll of bread. "How am I supposed to know?"

"'Cause you're all cozy with him, or whatever." She looks at you, her bright eyes keen and knowing. "Whatever happened today, you know what must be bothering him. Maybe you should go check on him."

You almost laugh. "He doesn't want to see me," you tell her.

She gives you a stern look before returning to her meal. "Just think about it, soldier," is all she says.

You all finish your meal and talk about your plan for the next day before retiring to your own tents for the night. You change out of your armor and clean it, rubbing off stubborn stains of goblin blood. You try to lose yourself to sleep, but it does not take you, with your many worries for the next day. And, even though you don't want to, you can't help but think about what Karlach said.

"Maybe you should go check on him."

So, unable to sleep, and unable to think of anything else to do, you leave your tent and make your way towards Astarion's.

You walk over, the chill of the night making you shiver. You almost hope to find the tent closed up for the night, to find him already trancing for the night, but the entrance is still tied open. You peek inside, expecting to find your companion reclined and reading a book by candle light; you try to prepare yourself for whatever sly flirtation he has for you.

Instead, you find the tent empty.

You frown; you know that Astarion hasn't been able to find suitable prey since you'd arrived in the cursed lands, so you can't imagine that he's out prowling. You stand there for a moment, at a loss and trying to decide whether or not to just go to bed. But you sigh, as whatever blackened heart inside you pushes you forward.

You, thanking your lucky stars that he wasn't trying to hide when he skulked away, follow Astarion's tracks down towards the river.

—

You find him propped up on his elbows across the river, staring out across the water. You don't bother to try and hide your footsteps; you simply cross the river, taking care not to lose your footing on the loose stones along the way.

"Come to collect your obstinate charge?" Astarion sneers without looking at you as you approach.

You sit beside him, tucking your knees against your chest. You try to keep your dirty shoes off his cloak that he spread out on the ground beneath him.

Those words are familiar enough; that dreadful Drow called him that to your face when she asked for him to bite her. "She really got to you, huh?" you ask, resting your cheek on one knee as you turn to look at him.

He's still in his armor from the day, and he'd found a bottle of wine somewhere in the crates surrounding Last Light on his journey over. It's something cheap, something you're sure he finds repulsive, even as he drinks. He stares across the river towards the inn, and he's silent for so long you resign yourself to the fact that he's ignoring you. Then, as you're deciding if you should just leave him to his thoughts, he shakes his head and says, "I can't get it out of my head. The way she leered at me."

You watch him, waiting for him to speak. He swirls the bottle of wine and takes a drink, then grimaces at the taste and lets the bottle hang loosely from his fingers. He doesn't look at you as he thinks.

Eventually, he sighs, the sound light and airy. "I was being too precious, wasn't I?" You can tell he's trying to convince himself, to talk himself back into some dark line of thinking he'd grown accustomed since being turned. "We could have used her potion. A moment of unpleasantry doesn't matter if there's a fine reward. I should have just gritted my teeth as always and let her have me for a bit."

You feel your heart sink at his words. "Astarion," you whisper, unsure of what to say next.

He barks out a laugh, a short, derisive sound. "Oh, darling, I don't need your pity." He throws the bottle of wine towards the water, and the glass shatters against the river bank. Wine starts to spill into the river, spreading like blood.

You shake your head, confused by how quickly his mood shifts. You struggle to keep up. "Astarion, I don't pity you," you tell him. You turn to face him properly, to take this conversation seriously. He still doesn't look at you. "But you have the right to say 'no.' You don't belong to anyone anymore."

At those words, he shifts his gaze from the waterline to finally examine you. His eyes are narrow, the expression behind them inscrutable. "You really believe that, don't you?" He laughs again, but he's not amused. His voice is bitter as he continues, "Yes, well, I must admit, a part of me feels sick when I think about getting on my back for breadcrumbs again." He tilts his head, suddenly curious. "But you, you could have convinced me to take the deal. To just push through and get the potion, and we would've all just moved along with our lives. Why didn't you?"

"Didn't you hear me?" Your voice is slightly incredulous. "You said 'no,' and that's your right. I'm not here to force you to do anything." You, now, laugh without mirth. You know enough about not having a say in what you do, with your strange visitors haunting your every move.

Astarion is still watching you. He has to admit to himself, he doesn't understand you one bit. No one in this life or his last ever showed him any ounce of kindness; even the gods couldn't be bothered to look his way. But here you are, some insignificant wanderer with gore for brains and a strong propensity towards gruesome violence, sitting beside him and telling him he had a choice. "But you could've," he pushes, and he suddenly reaches forward, dragging aside your neckline to reveal bruised teeth marks from where he'd last fed. You stiffen slightly, caught off guard by his quick movements. "What have I done to deserve any of your grace? I deceived you, tried to hunt you in the night, have taken everything I could from you with no promises to give any of it back."

"Astarion," you whisper, and for the first time, you think you are finally seeing him. "What makes you think you have to earn it?"

And that, finally, is what breaks him.

He rises up on his knees and takes your face in his hands, and there's a frenzy there, a desperation that makes you tense. You think he might shake you so hard your ruined brain will rattle around in your skull, and you watch the thought form behind his eyes. You realize that he could kill you here, right now, in any number of ways. He could slit your throat, drive a dagger beneath your ribs & pierce your heart, bleed you dry until you're nothing but a memory upon this land.

You realize this, and yet your body relaxes in his hands.

You trust him completely.

The look in his eyes is suddenly wild, confused, exasperated. Of all the prey he's ever hunted before, why did you have to be the one he showed the monster to? Anyone else would've run; you should've, too. Yet here you sit, on this riverbank beside him, looking into his blood-red eyes because he's led you right where he wanted you. Surely you aren't too stupid to see that.

Yet here you are, staring at him with those big, trusting eyes as he holds your life in his hands.

There must be something wrong with you, he decides then. Beyond the parasite in your head, and beyond the spells of very bloody memory loss; there is something fundamentally, elementally, seriously wrong with you. It's the only way he can explain to himself why you're still sitting here, prey in its predator's sight, unwavering & unafraid.

At that look in your eyes, that brave, corruptible expression, he leans closer. He says your name, and it's like the last prayer he'll ever speak. "Tell me what you want," he whispers, and he's almost begging.

You lean in, too, until the tip of your nose brushes the slope of his, and you breathe, "You."

And then he's kissing you, and you let out a small gasp, because you can't believe this beautiful elf has chosen you. He breathes you in, his hands still cupping your cheeks, and you thread your fingers into his silvery curls, beckoning him closer. One of his hands traces down your side, wrapping around your waist and holding you closer so you can feel the lines of him through your camp clothes. You gasp again, surprised by his unyielding grip, and his tongue slips between your parted lips, searching, exploring, tasting. You groan quietly, low in your throat, and his other hand traces from your cheek to your neck, fingers searching for the source of the sound. They find it, and they squeeze…

With his hand on your throat, feeling your pulse through the delicate skin, Astarion is nearly hypnotized.

He wishes that hunger deep in his belly would fade, would disappear and leave him to enjoy this, to lose himself in the moment like he hasn't in two hundred years. But it burns hot, and he can hear your heart beating strong in your chest, quickening as he moves against you, presses into you. It gnaws at him, spurned and getting harder to ignore, and you feel him bracing, beginning to pull away because he shouldn't do this to you— he can't—

You pull back from him, and he wonders how you could have possibly known his thoughts and braces for the impact of a stake in his heart—

Instead you tilt your chin and arch your back, and your hands in his hair lead him right to where he needs to be. His mouth brushes the pulse at your throat.

His vision flashes red; he can feel your blood thrumming against his lips, feel the seductive brush of each pulse against his mouth. He groans, and he wants to fight it, because gods he wishes things were different, but his lips part and his jaw opens, and he's biting into your throat.

A breath hisses from between your teeth at the sensation, at the ice traveling down your spine and chilling you to the bone. His mouth on you is unyielding as he cradles you in his hands, drinking you in in every way possible. Your eyes fall closed, and you begin to float, your thoughts becoming lighter than the clouds. You smile, because you can still feel him grasping at you, wanting you, needing you.

You trust him completely.

That hunger inside him pushes him to drink you dry, to tear your life from your hands until it burns in his chest instead. But he pries himself away from your throat, mouth dripping with scarlet and breath stuttering from between his lips. You can feel his chest heaving against you, can feel air fanning against your neck. You're still smiling.

"You," he gasps, easing you back down against the ground beneath you as he licks his teeth clean, "you ruin me." And then he kisses that smile on your mouth, and he's hovering over you, holding himself above you. It feels like a question.

When he pulls away, you open your eyes to see the stars painted over his shoulders. He looks predatory, like he's standing over the tattered remains of his latest hunt, but you see the softness in his expression, the vulnerability. He doesn't want to hurt you; he doesn't want this to be like all the other times, and he surely doesn't want this to be the first of its own terrible kind. He wants you, you realize. Not your blood, not your power, not your protection or your loyalty or your allegiance; he wants you.

You're ready to let him have you, if he'll take you.

"Astarion." You whisper his name, and he leans closer, his curls brushing your cheek. It tickles, and you giggle under your breath.

He tries not to stiffen at the sound. He forgets how soft you are sometimes, how gentle. It creates an air of innocence, though he watched you tear through goblins and cursed undead only hours before, and he knows without a doubt you can handle yourself. For a moment, he feels like the monster under the bed again.

But you touch his face, so very gently, and kiss him. Softly, sweetly, you call him back to you.

"I'm yours," you breathe, "if you'll have me."

And oh, it’s not even a question.

He’ll have you, he decides, pressing you back against the ground until rocks dig into your shoulders. He’ll take whatever you will give him, and when you’ve had enough, he will probably still be on his knees before you, begging for more.

Before that thought can scare him away, he trails his touch over your thin, casual clothes, grasping at the hem of your shirt. He pulls it over your head, leaving you naked from the waist up. He pulls back to look at you, to admire you, but you — suddenly cold and bashful — wrap your arms over your chest.

You hide from him, and he’s suddenly confused.

He examines the nervous look in your eyes, the way you're flushed in embarrassment and trying to hide beneath him, and all the little puzzle pieces suddenly click into place. This is new to you, he realizes. Maybe not truly and entirely; maybe you were taken to bed in whatever life you had before, but you don't remember that now. For you, with your absent memories and shattered persona, this was your first time.

It's suddenly all too much for him, and he shrinks away from you, leaning back into his heels. He holds his face in his hands, and he shakes his head ever so slightly, because it's too familiar a sight, to pin down bright innocence beneath his hips and drag it into the darkness. He wants to run away, to curse you for ever asking him to come to your camp and join your little band of misfits.

For a moment, he wishes he never met you; at least he wouldn't have to question every action he takes.

You prop yourself up on your elbows as he recedes from you, and very slowly and gently take one of his hands in yours. He's shaking, just barely, but your throat seems to close with a flood of emotion.

"Astarion," you whisper, and you gently pry his hand away from his face. His eyes are shut tightly, his lips twisted in a grimace. You bring his hand towards your lips, and you leave a kiss on his palm, feather light. "Astarion," you say again, "you don't have to do anything you don't want to."

Of course, you have to be the first person to say those words. The first person to encourage him to say no, when all he wants — for the first time in two hundred years — is to say yes.

For a moment, he’s bitter, and you can see the flash of frustration in his eyes when he finally opens them. But it’s gone in a moment, and he grins, flashing his teeth as he leans back in. “My dear,” he says, his silver tongue and honeyed words his only protection against the overwhelming confusion that’s threatening to settle over him, “I want this, trust me.”

He moves to catch your mouth with his, but you put your hand on his chest and stop him before he can. Your brows are creased, pulled together in concern.

The message is clear; you won’t let him use you to destroy himself.

His eyes flutter closed once more, and he breathes deeply, reminding himself where he is, who he is with. When he opens his eyes, they are gentle, softer than you’ve ever seen. You think, for a moment, maybe he has grown to trust you, too.

Slowly, without that same underlying malice, he leans in, close enough that his lips brush yours when he speaks. “I want this,” he repeats, his voice so quiet you can almost convince yourself you’ve imagined it. But then his mouth is on yours again, and he returns to his work removing your clothes.

His movements are slow, now, methodical. Like he’s trying to shake off decades of ghosts as he slides your pants down your thighs; maybe he is, you think. The fabric reaches your ankles, and you help him wriggle you free, and he tosses the clothing aside. Your underwear soon follow. Then, for one long, languorous moment, he looks at you, naked under the moonlight. Your mouth is red and sinful from kissing him, and the chilly breeze of the ever-present darkness raises goosebumps along your skin. Your nipples grow hard and pink, and you shiver. His gaze continues lower, to where you nervously squeeze your legs together in one last attempt at preserving your decency.

He wants to ruin you.

He brushes your thighs apart with one commanding swipe of his hand, and you shiver at the look in his eyes. Pupils blown wide with desire, he stares up at you through his lashes as he dips down, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the valley between your breasts. He settles his body between your legs, and he veers to one side and licks a line towards one nipple, catching it between his lips. The wind cools his saliva until you’re shivering, and you’re not sure if it’s the cold or the pleasure as your head tilts back, your body arching against the ground.

Astarion suddenly sucks, his cheeks hollowing slightly as he pulls at your nipple. You gasp, and he relishes in the sound, watching you bare your throat to him. He gazes up at you, admiring the sight, as his hand slips between your thighs.

Suddenly, you gasp when fingertips stroke against your core, revealing your glistening slick. Astarion groans, the mound of your breast still in his mouth. “All this talk,” he teases, reaching up and grabbing your jaw in one hand. With the other, he rocks his touch back just slightly, barely brushing against your clit. “You should be the one telling me how much you want it, desperate little thing.”

Your face burns at his words and his casual tone, but you can’t even argue with him before he sweeps his tongue into your mouth. He licks your teeth, and at the same time he presses two fingers inside you, and you let out a broken moan against his lips. You can feel his wolfish smile as he pulls back before pumping back inside you.

You can feel how wet you are, can feel it dripping down the inside of your thighs. He moves slowly, though, allowing the gentle stretch of his fingers as he kisses you. His thumb draws lazy little circles over your clit, and he catches each of your moans with his mouth, learning exactly what you like with a few strokes of his expert hands.

Then, just as your breathing starts to hitch and break, he pulls away, taking his hand from the wet heat between your legs.

The sound you make almost comes out as a whine, and Astarion laughs, watching you flush deep crimson. “Someone needs to mind their manners,” he chastises playfully, and then he lifts his fingers to his mouth and licks them clean, maintaining eye contact the entire time.

Your flush impossibly deepens, and you almost look away in embarrassment. But you can’t tear your eyes from the shameful scene, and you can tell that he knows how much it turns you on to see him like this. He grins again, and then he dips his head, disappearing between your thighs.

Before you can process his quick movements, you feel him lick molten heat up your core, and you throw your arms out to the sides, scrambling for purchase. You gasp his name, and you feel him chuckle more than you hear it.

”Yes, my dear?” he asks before running the flat of his tongue against your clit.

Your body stiffens, and your face lifts to the heavens. “Don’t stop,” is all you can muster.

And he doesn’t.

He eats you out until you’re shaking, falling apart under him. He presses his fingers back into you, three this time, and sucks on your clit while he strokes you from the inside. He stares up at you while he does it, watching you writhe in breathless, beautiful agony. One of your hands finds his hair, brushing through his curls with a touch that’s much too gentle for what you’re suffering at his hand.

You can feel your pleasure mounting, tightening like a coil deep in your belly while heat flames between your legs. Your moans are coming out in pants, now, barely intelligible noises that break against the riverbed. Your hand in his hair tightens, gripping for dear life and holding him there and pushing him away all in the same movement, and your back bows off the ground, your eyes nearly rolling back into your head as he pushes you higher and higher—

Then, like a band snapping, your orgasm rocks through you, and your vision goes black while your hips stutter and your core clenches and quivers.

Bliss washes over you, and you slowly come back to earth, and you find Astarion unbuckling his armor, nearly frantic in his movements.

”Astarion,” you croak, reaching for him.

He leans over you, kissing you, letting you taste yourself on his lips, his tongue. His hands tug feverishly at the buckles.

”Astarion,” you sound like you’re begging. “Astarion, please—“

He huffs playfully, still pushing off his leather armor one layer at a time. “What is it?” he asks, sparing one hand to stroke gently at your throat. “Do you need some attention? Aren’t you just obsessed—?”

”No,” you whine, finally rising up on your knees and reaching for his hands. “Let me— I want you to feel good.”

By now, his chest is bare, and he’s kicked off his boots. “Sweet thing, the thought of being inside you is driving me insane.” His leather pants slide down his thighs. “Do you want—?”

”Astarion,” you say again, your voice emphatic. You take his hand and bring it to your mouth, parting your lips against his fingers. “Please.”

Astarion freezes suddenly, staring at you with an expression of recognition. His eyes trail from yours down to your mouth, where his fingers sit. He can feel the heat of your breath, and he grows impossibly harder at the thought of what you’re asking.

It’s something he’s so rarely done since being turned. A pleasure he’s so rarely accepted.

Your lips brush his fingertips when you speak. “I want to make you feel good,” you whisper, and then you take two of his fingers in your mouth.

His stomach drops as he watches you, and his cock twitches at the sinful sight of your lips wrapped around his long pale fingers. You watch his pupils dilate, and his lips part slightly as you slide your tongue down, swirling gently. Your own desire pools in your belly, watching him watch you.

Please.

He nods, his breath starting to hitch slightly at the idea of filling that mouth. You smile, and you draw back until his fingers leave your mouth with a pop. Then you ease him back gently onto his elbows, picking up where he left off by dipping your fingers into the band of his underwear. You look up through your eyelashes, watching his chest heave up and down.

”Tell me to stop,” you say sternly, and he nods, understanding your meaning. So, having his confirmation, you continue.

You slide his last layer of clothing slowly down his strong thighs, watching every reaction your movements elicit. Watching for any sign of trepidation, of apprehension. But you only see desire, and one of his hands goes to your hair, knotting in your tresses. Encouraging you further.

You move your hands lower and lower, and your mouth begins to water as you follow the shaft of his cock. He’s gorgeous in every way, and when you finally reveal the pink head, glistening with precum, you have to hold yourself back from devouring him.

You tug his underwear the rest of the way off, and then you kneel in front of him, sure that whatever gods may be listening have placed him here in front of you.

You dip your head forward, wanting only to touch him with your mouth. With his hold on your hair, hopefully that would give him enough power to say no if it became too much. Tentatively, and watching for his reaction, your tongue slips out from between your lips and licks a gentle line along his shaft, giving you your first taste of him.

Astarion’s entire body stiffens at the sensation, and you do not move again, waiting for some sign that this was okay. After a moment, he tugs at your hair and very gently touches your cheek, and the look in his eyes is clear direction for you to continue.

You brush your lips against him, leaving gentle kisses, and then your tongue follows to the head of his dick, tasting his precum before swirling and bobbing deeper.

Astarion throws his head back, and he keens as you take him into your mouth. It’s a broken sound, but his hand in your hair pushes you deeper, and you obey. You drool when his hips cant forward, and you match his movements by swirling your tongue and pulling back before sliding all the way back down. He almost can’t believe the skill of your mouth, with how innocent you looked not five minutes ago, but then his thoughts scatter again when he hits the back of your throat.

He wants to press you down until you’re choking on him, wants to cum in your mouth and make a mess of you—

But he stops himself, pulls you back by your hair and kisses you, because he needs to fuck you.

He’s panting when he grabs you by the throat and lowers you onto your back. “Say it again,” he tells you, half delirious with the need to be inside you. “Say you’re mine.”

”I’m yours,” you respond immediately, eyes shining in the moonlight.

He groans your name, cupping his hands under your thighs. He wraps your legs around his waist, lining himself up at your entrance. Your cunt is still dripping for him, and he presses his fingers against your clit, watching you jump as he touches the swollen bundle of nerves. He laughs, a breathless sound, and then he places one hand beside your head, staring into your eyes as he slides inside you.

Thank you, he wants to say. Thank you for saving me.

But that’s much too vulnerable a thought to share, so he simply rocks his hips into yours, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure.

He’s perfect, you think as he slides back out of you before slamming back in, setting a brutal, unrelenting pace. He’s perfect and he’s here and he’s yours, and you want to tell him so, but you can’t even speak, so you squeak out moans and scrabble at his chest as he fucks you.

He watches you quickly come undone beneath him, and when he decides he needs more, he lifts one of your legs and props it over his shoulder. The new angle lets him hit a target inside you that has you seeing stars, and you’re a drooling mess beneath him, eyes glazed over with pleasure. His fingers once again find your clit, and he rubs those practiced circles, just like before. He watches your chest heave, and your lips try to form his name, but he’s knocking the wind out of you with every thrust. You feel him inside you, on top of you, all around you, and you know that this is dangerous, that this is the sort of magic that will keep you coming to his tent every night.

And oh, how you both want to tear each other apart each night.

You feel your second orgasm building, so much faster than the first, and you gaze up into his eyes, watching him fuck you, and it quickly becomes too much.

“Astarion,” you finally gasp, your voice pitched so high it almost breaks, “pleasepleasepleaseplease—“

The sound of your voice threatens to send him over the edge, and his thrusts begin to turn wild, frantic. He shoves himself into you until you come apart, unraveling at the seams. Your cunt clenches over and over again, pulling him closer from the inside, and before he can pull out to empty himself on your stomach, you grab his shoulder and tilt your hips forward, begging him to stay there.

Begging him to cum inside you.

The thought shatters him, and he moans into the crook of your shoulder, thrusting erratically as he rides out his own orgasm. You feel his cock twitching inside you, and you hold him close as his thrusts slow, then stop.

As you hold him, you press gentle kisses to his face. His forehead, his eyelids, his cheeks, his nose, his chin. His lips. He kisses you back, slowly, deeply. Then he pulls himself out of you, and you almost regret the sudden emptiness. But you can’t think about it for too long before he lowers himself to the ground beside you, and you follow him, still kissing every inch of him that you can reach.

”I’m yours,” you remind him. And even as you both start to clean up and head back to camp, he remembers those words.

He belonged to no one, but maybe one day, he wouldn’t mind belonging to you.

thanks for reading! -luna xx link to ao3

[dazedandconfused-15]

Heaven's in your eyes (Part 5)

I just wanted to apologise to everyone for going M.I.A. over the last few months. It's been a lot—new job, Christmas, etc. I haven't forgotten about this fanfic, nor have I forgotten how much love it's been receiving since the first chapter. Thank you again, guys. SMUT is coming VERY soon, but remember, this is a slow burn… ;)

Summary: Life in Hawkins is dull and lonely, especially after your mom abandoned your family, leaving you even more isolated amidst school rumors. Already shy and with few friends, you find solace in your solitude—until Billy Hargrove, the intriguing new boy from California, comes into the picture. To your surprise, Billy seems to seek you out, finding ways to talk to you despite the odds. Never in a million years would you have imagined forming such an unexpected bond with someone.

Link to: Part 1 Part 2, Part 3 and Part 4

@tatumrileyslover @littlenosoul @the-freak-cassie-313 @rainy-darling @nina-from-317 @galacticglitterglue @stanseventeen @sakurasimppp @seedlingghost @losingmygrasponreality @mindsofjade @insomniacfigure

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The day you return to school comes far too soon. You managed to get by by skipping Friday, but today is Monday, and you can’t afford to miss another day. The lessons are piling up, and with tests looming closer—especially as the end of the year nears—catching up is no longer an option.

This morning, your dad dropped you off before heading to work. When you close the car door behind you and face the school building, you take a shaky breath. You’re prepared to face whatever consequences come from your decisions, but you can’t shake the tight knot of anxiety in your stomach.

You scan the parking lot filled with students, searching for the familiar faces of Tina, Vicky, or Carol, but you don’t see them. Instead, your gaze lands on Billy. He’s leaning against the side of his car, chatting with Max. Max has her backpack slung over one shoulder and his skateboard on the other, while Billy pulls a cigarette from his pack, both of them seemingly deep in some animated argument.

You hesitate. Do you approach him? You called him the day after that night, like he asked, and he reassured you that Monday would be fine—that you shouldn’t worry. But after that, you didn’t hear from him. You’re left with no clue where you stand with him. After that kiss... what are you? Are you still friends? Or something more?

You try to push away any hope, but a small part of you can’t help it. The uncertainty lingers, weighing on you.

As if he feels the pressure of your gaze, Billy turns his head. Your eyes meet.

Max, still talking and gesturing, notices Billy’s gaze and follows it to where you’re standing. Billy lifts his hand, waving for you to join them. You tighten your grip on the strap of your backpack, walking toward them, mentally preparing for whatever might happen.

“You okay?” Billy asks when you reach them.

“Hey, yeah.”

Billy glances back at Max. “You got that?”

“Billy, it’s not like I’m…”

“I don’t care,” he cuts Max off sharply. Max opens her mouth, as if she’s about to protest, but then thinks better of it. She looks away, her expression a mix of scowl and concern. You’re not sure what’s going on, but Billy doesn’t seem to notice. His blue eyes remain locked on her face, intense and unwavering. “You really want that to happen again? Do you like pushing him until things blow up?”

“Of course I don’t!” she scowls, looking back at him. 

“Then stop being so goddamn stubborn and do as I say.” Billy lights a cigarette, his eyes staying fixed on Max. You shift uncomfortably, unsure whether to look away or stay. This moment between the two step-siblings feels more personal than you’re ready for, and you're left wondering what's going on.

“You’ll have plenty of time on the weekends. Otherwise, it’s straight home after school.”

“Alright.” Max grits her teeth as she says it, though it’s clear her frustration is with the situation rather than Billy himself.

Billy watches her for a long moment, taking a drag from his cigarette as if assessing whether she’s truly accepted his ultimatum. Max holds his gaze at first but eventually looks away, her discomfort evident, even though she tries to hide it. Billy’s stare is intense, like he’s daring her to challenge him again.

“You’re gonna be late. Go to class.” Billy jerks his chin toward Hawkins Middle School, a few feet away from the high school. “I’ll see you by the car at four.”

Max says a soft “hi” to you before leaving, heading off with her skateboard. You watch her go in silence, your eyes shifting back to Billy as the tension lingers in the air.

“Is everything okay?”

Billy exhales a long sigh, tapping the cigarette and flicking the ashes onto the ground. “Yeah. Just gotta remind her how things work around here from time to time.”

“She seems upset…”

“Well, next time, she better listen so she won’t be.”

You notice the tense set of his jaw and the way his gaze stays locked on Max’s retreating figure, and it’s the first time you’ve seen him like this—so tightly wound.

“Billy…” you say softly. “It’s normal for a kid her age to push boundaries sometimes.”

“Not in this household.” Billy shakes his head, his hand holding the cigarette rising to his face as he scratches his eyebrow with an irritated flick of his thumb. “And she knows it. She fucking knows it. But she keeps going rogue.” You fall silent, sensing the weight in his words, and your nerves spike as you wonder if there’s something deeper behind this. You don’t want to push him to talk, but you can feel the storm brewing inside him.

He takes a drag from his cigarette, his hand trembling slightly before he speaks again. “Neil went ballistic last night.”

“What did he do?” you ask, a wave of concern rushing through you. “Did he hurt her?”

“No.” Billy’s voice is rough, but he shakes his head, his eyes flicking away for a moment. “He got close, but…”

“Oh God…”

“It’s fine. He didn’t touch her. I stepped in before it got worse.”

Billy’s gaze stays fixed on the distance past your shoulder. It’s obvious he’s trying to push the conversation away, but you can sense there’s more that he’s not saying.

“So he hit you?” you ask, a knot of dread forming deep in your chest. Billy shakes his head, letting out a frustrated sigh as he shifts against the car, finally meeting your gaze again.

“I’m fine. He was too drunk to even hit me properly.”

Relief washes over you, and you nod, taking in a breath. “Alright, but—this can’t keep going on…”

Before you can finish, Billy surprises you, reaching out and pulling you close by the waist. Your hands land against his chest, and you’re suddenly close enough to feel the steady rhythm of his heartbeat under your palms.

“Hey, it’s all good. I’ve got it,” he reassures you, his voice softer now, but the intensity is still there, buried under the surface. 

This closeness leaves you momentarily speechless, sending your mind into a tailspin. You try to pull yourself together, feeling your heartbeats quicken as you're flush against him. “But…”

“It’s always a rollercoaster with him. As long as we know how to move around him it’s gonna be ok.” still holding you against him with his other hand, he brings the cigarette to his mouth and takes another puff. You’re too entranced by his scent, his red mouth as he exhales the smoke on the side to avoid blowing it on your face. “Stop worrying so much.”

You shake your head in defeat, your mind silently racing as he finishes his cigarette. There is a reason why you worry so much. Billy can downplay it all he wants, but you are fully aware of what his father represents. You have seen it on his skin, in his eyes and in his attitude when he’s around older men. Max is so young and you are certain that Neil has touched her mother as well. You wonder what she looks like; you've never met her. Billy brings you back to the present moment by gently squeezing your waist. His tourmaline eyes roam over your face. The combination of his gaze, so casual, and his warm hand touching your body sends you into heat. 

“You good?” 

You know what he’s referring to. For a moment you stopped thinking about it. Now it comes back in full force and your anxiety is increasing with every second. You feel overwhelmed by this emotion along with how flush his closeness makes you feel. Your mouth feels dry.  “I don’t know. I don’t know how it’s gonna be.” 

“You’re fine. Nothing’s gonna happen. Alright?” 

You nod, unconvinced, and as he brings his face closer to yours, his breath fanning over your face, mint an tobacco. Your heart races quickly as his lips brush against yours. You struggle to realise it, you didn't think he would kiss you again so soon. You certainly didn't think he would kiss you here. It is as if an electric shock was born from your kiss. The surprise triggered by the fact that what happened the other night is not just a vague memory makes you even more euphoric. His hands tighten their grip on your waist, pulling you flush against him. You completely ignore the risk of burning yourself with his cigarette, which continues to die slowly, held between the fingers of his free hand. You rest your hands on his shoulders, denim against your skin. The rest of the people, the sounds around you disappear. You are awash in the passion with which he kisses you, makes you euphoric. His hand leaves your waist and comes to rest on your cheek and you give him space, your hands descend to his chest. The sound of the bell breaks the moment, but you both seem to struggle to break the kiss. You are aware that you must enter the building but each time you pull your lips away Billy chases you, urging you to chase him back. After an eternity, perhaps because you are both out of breath, your lips part with difficulty and you squint, dazed. Your mind tries to regain focus as they move from his heated gaze to where your hands lie against his chest, tucked white shirt in denim jeans. His necklace. He squeezes your waist, as he exhales against your lips. You do not dare to meet his gaze because you know you would not be able to resist him. You have to go back to class. Billy seems to think the same as you because he pulls his face away slightly, bringing the cigarette back to his mouth between the two of you. It is now practically finished. Tilts his head back as he exhales. You eye his Adam apple. 

“Well, shit.” he clears his throat, a chuckle leaving his lips as his eyes briefly look past your shoulder. This makes you feel hotter, flattered by his exclamation. You understand very well what he feels. You feel yourself going up in flames as much as he does. “Guess we gotta go now,” he mutters, his eyes finding yours. 

It is as if he is seeking your confirmation.  It's clear that neither of you wants to move from here. 

“Yeah. Yes, let's go,” you nod, shaken and still dazed. You move away from him slowly, aware that if you moved too quickly you would stumble or lose your balance. 

Most of the students have already entered the building, but some of them are lounging by the entrance, and some of them are looking at you and Billy as you both walk in. It is likely, indeed certain, that they have seen you back in the parking lot. You decide to ignore their persistent stares completely. You feel relieved when you notice the absence of familiar faces once you are in the main hallway. Maybe you can avoid unpleasant situations at least until lunchtime. You turn to Billy, tucking a lock of hair behind your ear. It's time to part. You won’t share History class together today. 

“I'll stay in the library to study later today,” you inform him. You have a habit of always going home together, but you have a Chemistry test in two days and need to study.

Billy doesn’t look at you. His eyes are fixed on something to your right. You know that look. You follow his gaze and spot Tommy Hagan by the trophy cases at the end of the hallway.

“Billy?”

“You said Carol was with Tina that day?” His voice is low, but it’s more of a statement than a question. Your heart sinks as you quickly put the pieces together.

“No, Billy, please don’t make a scene.”

His eyes never meet yours. “It’s alright.”

“Billy—”

Billy whistles sharply, cutting you off. “Hey, Hagan!” Tommy Hagan turns around, his indifferent expression shifting to concern when he sees Billy heading his way. You hesitate behind him, dread pooling in your stomach. What is Billy going to do?

“Can I have a word?” Billy calls out as he strides toward Tommy.

Tommy glances between Billy and you, uncertainty written across his face. “Uh, sure.”

“Your girlfriend and I have a problem,” Billy starts, his tone sharp. You feel agitation rise in your chest, already dreading where this is going.

Tommy’s brows furrow. “What?”

“Tell her to quit bothering her.” Billy points to you with a sharp motion of his thumb. Tommy’s gaze follows Billy’s direction, then his expression shifts into one of incredulity, followed by a short burst of laughter.

“What? Are you s—”

Billy cuts him off. “See, I don’t beat up girls.” his tone casual, almost dismissive. “I’m not an animal. But if she doesn’t stop with the bitching right now, it’s your ass next.”

You rush toward them, tugging weakly at Billy’s arm as students begin to slow down, watching the scene unfold. “Billy, come on.”

Billy doesn’t budge. He looks at Tommy, who’s starting to squirm under the pressure, and adds, “You got the hint pretty quickly. So why don’t you do the same with her? Update her on how things are gonna be from now on. I won’t be so nice next time.”

The calmness in Billy’s voice is chilling, but his eyes are a storm, seething beneath the surface. “You hear me?” he asks, tilting his head to the side, his blue eyes piercing through Tommy like a warning.

Tommy stiffens, looking down, unable to hold eye contact. He nods several times, trying to keep his composure. “Yeah, man. Safe and sound.”

Billy nods, slaps Tommy on the shoulder with a casual, almost condescending gesture. “Thanks.”

As you both walk side by side down the corridor, you feel the weight of everyone’s gaze, the whispers and stares burning a hole through you. You can’t shake the feeling that every step is being scrutinized.

Luckily, you don’t share first period with Tina. Chemistry is just Carol and Vicky, and while they shoot you their usual derisive looks, they don’t say a word. Without Tina, they seem to lose their bite, their presence fading without their leader to prop them up. It suits you just fine.

The rest of the morning goes by without any issues, but by the time lunch ends and Math class rolls around, unease settles in your stomach. Tina is in that class with you. When she walks in, you brace yourself, expecting some kind of confrontation. But instead, she just shoots you a dark look and storms past your desk without a word. Her footsteps are heavy, her scowl deep. You hear her drop onto her chair behind you with a loud thud, the sound making you tense.

You’ve never seen her like this.

The teacher walks in, pulling her things from her duffle bag as the usual classroom chatter hums around you. Out of the corner of your eye, you catch Carol abruptly getting up from her seat next to Vicky and making a beeline for Tina. Your stomach tightens. You risk a glance their way. They’re whispering, fast and animated, their heads ducked close. It doesn’t look good.

As if sensing your gaze, Tina looks up—and locks eyes with you.

Her icy stare makes you go stiff. She tongues her cheek, her expression a mix of defiance and contempt. You swallow and turn back to your desk, willing yourself to ignore it.

The rest of the afternoon drags unbearably slow. You wait for something to happen, for one of them to approach you between classes, to say something, do something. But nothing comes. By the time the final bell rings, you take your time packing up, head down, hoping to avoid them in the hallway. But they don’t even acknowledge you as they leave.

Relief floods you when you’re the last to say goodbye to the teacher. You make it to the library without issue, slipping inside where it’s mostly empty—most students eager to escape the school building as soon as possible. You pass a quiet boy from your class who glances up at the sound of your footsteps, offering you a shy smile before returning to his book.

You settle at one of the farthest tables, tucked behind a bookshelf. No one bothers you, but focusing is impossible. Your thoughts spiral. Tina’s strange behavior, Billy. Especially Billy.

His hands. His lips. His gaze.

The two kisses.

By the time you’re leaving the building, your mind is still clouded with him. You’re nearly at the exit when you hear male voices behind you. Then, a whistle.

Your body tenses instinctively, already on guard, ready to shut down whoever decided to be an idiot today. But when you turn around, you’re met with a different sight.

Billy.

“Hey.” he approaches you with his sports bag slung over his shoulder, his teammates behind him.

“Hey..” 

“See ya, man.” the boys greet him, throwing you a brief glance as they all walk past you. 

“I didn’t know you had practice today.”

Billy shrugs. “Didn’t know either, they moved it from Friday to tonight.” 

His hair has lost some of its volume, damp curls falling over his forehead, with smaller strands clinging to his neck. He’s wearing gray sweatpants and a t-shirt under his denim jacket, nothing like what you’re used to seeing him in. Usually, when he has practice, you go home alone.

The sight of him like this stirs something in you, something you can’t quite put into words. There’s a familiarity to it, a quiet intimacy. Stripped of leather, denim, silver rings, and a perfectly styled haircut, he feels… softer. Warmer. Like home.

“Watcha still doing here?” he asks you. You can smell his shampoo mixed with his cologne. You try not to drop your eye on his mouth as he chews on a gum. 

“I was in the library.” he indeed wasn’t listening to you earlier this morning.

“Good thing I got practice then, huh?” he jerks his chin toward the exit behind you, as he starts walking toward it, so you follow along.

As you both step out of the high school, the heavy doors swinging shut behind you, you’re immediately met by the warmth of the evening air. The parking lot is bathed in golden light. The lingering heat from the sun settles over your skin like a comforting blanket, thick with the scent of summer grass and faint traces of freshly cut lawns from the nearby fields.

The sky is a vast canvas of soft, golden light, stretching high and clear, only just beginning to fade toward deeper blues at the edges.

“So how was your day?” he asks. 

“It was fine.”

“Yeah? Everything went well?”

You actually want to ask him if he had anything to do with Tina, Vicky and Carol's behaviour. But you prefer to wait until you are both in the car. 

“Yeah. How was yours? Was practice okay?”

“Not too bad. Coach gave us some shit 'cause the big game against Chesterton’s coming up. He says they’ve got a couple of new guys who are supposed to be real hotshots, so he’s on us to keep our heads in the game,” he says as he drops his sports bag in the trunk. “Keeps saying it’s our ‘chance to prove ourselves.’ Like winning every other game wasn’t enough.”

The sounds of the quiet parking lot surround you, the slamming of car doors, and the subtle echo of laughter from the rest of the basketball team as they all leave. 

“Is he always this harsh to you?” 

“Always is. Eh, who cares. Got used to it.”

The inside of the car is stifling after being parked in the sun all day, the black leather almost burning your skin as you sit down. You breathe a sigh of relief when Billy rolls down both windows, letting in a rush of fresh air.

“Yeah, it’s boiling in here. Do you have plans?” Billy asks as you pull out of the parking lot and onto the road.

“Not really, no,” you answer. During the week you normally just stay at home. You turn to look at him, curious. “Why?”

“Let’s head to the lake. Freshen up a bit.” 

“Oh. You wanna swim?” 

“Yeah, why not. It’s warm enough now.” 

You find yourself at a loss for words, his sudden offer making your stomach twist with unease. The two of you have never swum together, always staying near the water’s edge. You knew the time would come sooner or later if you kept going to Lovers Lake as summer arrived, but you didn’t expect it to be so soon. So, you come up with the lamest excuse possible.

“Uhm, can we do it another day? I don’t have my swimsuit with me.”

“We can stop by your house to get it.”

“But you don’t have your swimming trunks either.” 

Billy waves his hand in a dismissive gesture as he reaches for his pack of cigarettes. “Don’t need it. Just gonna use my gym shorts.”   

You find yourself speechless. Not knowing which excuse to find.

“Hey, if you don’t wanna-”

“No, no. I want to!” you rush. You don't want to miss an opportunity to spend time with him. Even if you have to risk him not liking what he sees once you’re in nothing but a swimsuit. “I was just... never mind. Let's go, let's stop at mine to pick it up.”

You tell Billy to wait in the car—you won’t be long. As soon as you shut the front door behind you, you rush to the bathroom, grabbing your razor in a frenzy. In your haste, you nick your calf, wincing as a thin line of red beads on your skin. But there’s no time to dwell on it. You finish up quickly, dart to your room, and snatch your bikini on the fly, slipping it on before pulling your clothes back over it.

When you step outside, you immediately spot Eddie Munson standing by the Camaro, right in front of Billy’s door. You haven’t seen him in days. His trailer door is open behind you, he must’ve stepped out when he heard the engine.

He glances up as you approach, offering a nod in greeting before turning his attention back to Billy. You catch the tail end of their conversation as Eddie gestures to one of the many tattoos inked across his bare forearm.

“...sick, man.”

“I can ink you up sometime. Just tell me your price and I’ll cut you a deal,” Eddie shrugs. “I’m flexible.” 

“Sweet. That’d be great.”

“I’ll see you soon, yeah?” Eddie straightens up, his gaze flicking to yours. You’ve never talked much. He seems like a nice guy, but there’s always been something about him that makes you a little hesitant, a little shy. Maybe it’s the ever-present chain hanging from his jeans. Maybe it’s the way he’s always dressed in black. “Hey. How’s it going?”

“Hi, not too bad,” you reply giving him a small smile. “How are you?”

“I’m good yeah. See you.” he starts walking backward toward his trailer, then points at Billy. “You got yourself a nice guy.” 

“Oh. It’s huh, it’s, wer-re not-” you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat up. Eddie throws his hands up in a quick, playful gesture — palms outward, fingers spread slightly, as if to say, "Alright, alright, I'll shut up." His grin is boyish and teasing.

“My bad! Didn’t mean to assume,” he chuckles, starting to backpedal toward his trailer. “Catch you later, neighbor.”

You glance at Billy as he leaves the dirt road and turns onto the main road. You hadn’t realized he and Eddie were so close—he never mentioned seeing him.

“Are you thinking of getting another one?”

“Huh?”

“Another tattoo,” you clarify.

“Oh.” A grin spreads across his face. “Yeah. Definitely. Got something in mind.”

“Where would you get it?” you ask, intrigued by his vague answer.

Silence.

You turn toward him in question, only to flinch slightly when you feel his fingers brush against your skin. He doesn’t take his eyes off the road as his fingertips graze your calf, his palm settling on your shin. A jolt of electricity shoots through you as you realize—this is his answer.

“Nothing too big,” he says. “Thinking red ink.”

“Oh.” You try to sound casual, as if his touch isn’t setting you on fire. “That sounds like a really cool idea.”

Billy hums in response, and the silence that follows is thick—charged—because his hand is still there, warm, his fingers idly stroking your skin. Luckily, your house is only half a mile from the lake. You’ll be there soon.

The water is still a little too cool for you, so after a quick dip, you climb out. Lover’s Lake is peaceful in the early summer evening, the water stretches wide and glassy, mirroring the sky’s soft hues. The air is thick with the scent of damp earth and pine, the occasional ripple breaking the surface as a fish moves below. A gentle breeze rustles the trees, carrying the faint sound of crickets just beginning their nightly chorus. The sun hasn’t set completely yet, but the sky is shifting—shadows stretching long over the dock, the horizon painted in streaks of orange and pink.

An hour later, you both end up in your usual spot—one of the docks where you’d sit to study or just unwind. Billy props himself up on his forearms beside you, his tanned arms illuminated by the fading sunlight. Your eyes drift over his sandy blond curls, messy from the water. You have the urge to run your fingers through them, but you hold back. You’re not sure you have that kind of confidence, not yet—not with him. Even though you’ve kissed twice now, you’re afraid of pushing too much.

“Jason’s throwing a party,” Billy says suddenly.

“Oh.” The statement catches you off guard. You watch as he pulls a cigarette from his pack and places it between his lips. “Jason as in Jason Carver?”

Billy nods as he lights the cigarette with one hand, his other arm still resting on the dock. For a brief moment, his eyelashes brush against his cheek, and you find yourself staring. You follow the movement of his hand, the way his thumb lingers on the grill of the lighter before he flicks it shut and places it back down. He takes a slow drag, then pulls the cigarette away, exhaling a cloud of smoke. You love his hands.

“Tomorrow.”

You assume he’s going. Billy has never missed a party. There are rumors about him being the life of them, and yet you struggle to reconcile that version of him—the one who drinks, fights, and lets loose—with the one sitting beside you now. The boy who lent you his jacket, who hugged you, who shares this quiet moment with you. The same boy who once punched someone so hard he knocked out a tooth, nearly sending him into a coma, blood splattering across the pavement.

“Will you go?” you ask, though you already know the answer.

Billy exhales another cloud of smoke, his voice slightly rough as he stifles a cough. “Yeah. Haven’t been to one in a while.”

You hum in acknowledgment, your gaze drifting toward the opposite shore. The sun has completely set now, and though the air is still warm, the sky has darkened. Your legs float lazily in the water, barely submerged. You’re not sure if you’d feel cold, but Billy doesn’t seem to mind.

“You should come.”

Your gaze snaps back to him. At first, you’re silent, caught between surprise and uncertainty, unsure if he’s being serious.

“Me?”

“You,” he repeats, eyes glinting with amusement.

“Billy.” You let out an uneasy laugh. “You know I’ve never been to any of those parties.”

“There’s always a first time.”

You’ve never felt comfortable with the idea of parties. You know you wouldn’t fit in, would probably feel out of place—maybe even unwelcome. Rejected. And after what happened with Tina, the thought of walking into one now feels even worse. You can’t hold your tongue now that it’s on your mind again.

“Can I ask what you told Tina earlier?”

Billy looks momentarily taken aback. Then he scratches his cheek with the hand holding his cigarette, his gaze shifting past you to where the Camaro is parked in the distance.

“Aw, why are you still thinking about that bitch? Forget her. She ain’t gonna do shit anymore.”

You nudge his arm lightly with your thigh, your voice gentle but firm. “Billy.”

He looks back at you. But he doesn’t answer. Instead, he takes a slow drag of his cigarette, exhaling as the silence stretches between you.

“What have you done?” 

For the first time, his expression shifts—like a door slamming shut between you. The warmth in his eyes cools, his features hardening in a way you’ve never seen before. His jaw tightens, lips pressing into a firm line as if holding something back. The cigarette lingers between his fingers, forgotten. When he finally speaks, his voice is steady, but there’s an edge to it, sharp and unwavering.

"What, you think I’d hit a woman?"

There’s no anger, no outburst—just a quiet offense, a distance that wasn’t there a moment ago. His gaze, once open and familiar, now feels just out of reach. 

The change in him is instant, and it hits you like a splash of cold water. Your stomach tightens. You don’t like this—this sudden distance, the way he looks at you like you're someone else entirely. 

“No, that’s not what I meant!”

The words rush out, a little too fast, a little too desperate to pull him back from whatever place he’s just gone to. But he doesn’t soften. He doesn’t say anything at all. Instead, he flicks the ash off his cigarette, his gaze drifting somewhere past you, jaw still locked tight.

You shift closer, hesitating before reaching for his arm. “Billy,” you say, quieter now, trying to catch his eyes. “I wasn’t accusing you. I just… I just want to know what happened.”

Still, nothing. The silence stretches, thick and heavy between you. It’s like watching a storm settle over the ocean—calm on the surface, but something deep and dangerous churning underneath.

Your chest tightens. You don’t like this. You don’t like how far away he suddenly feels.

“Please,” you murmur. “Talk to me.”

For a second, you think he might not answer. Then, finally, he exhales—sharp, controlled, smoke curling from his lips before he mutters, “Forget it.”

But you can’t. Not now. 

Your fingers tighten slightly on his arm. “Billy, please. I didn’t mean it like that.” You shake your head, exhaling sharply. “I shouldn’t have said it like that. It just—” You pause, searching for the right words, for something that will pull him back. “Tina looked at me like she wanted to kill me today. In class. Just full-on daggers in her eyes. But she never said a word. Never even walked up to me.”

His expression doesn’t shift immediately, but you see the smallest flicker of something—acknowledgment, maybe. You push forward.

“I don’t get it,” you continue, voice softer now, careful. “I know she hates me, I could feel it. But she just sat there, staring. Why? What happened?”

Billy exhales slowly through his nose, still distant, but the tension in his jaw eases—just a little. The silence stretches, but this time, it feels different. Less cold. More like he’s deciding something.

Finally, he takes another slow drag of his cigarette, then speaks. “I talked to her earlier.”

You wait, but he doesn’t say anything else. That’s not enough. You need more.

“What did you say to her?”

Billy exhales. “Told her whatever this thing is she’s got with you, it’s done. That I don’t want to hear about it, and she sure as hell better not try dragging me into it.” his voice is calm but firm, no room for argument. “Told her to get over it and move the fuck on.”

His confession stirs something warm inside you, something that spreads too fast, too deep. The conviction in his voice, the way he says it like it’s the simplest truth in the world—it’s almost too much. You swallow hard, trying to process it, but the feeling is overwhelming, almost suffocating in its intensity.

Billy shifts beside you, exhaling sharply through his nose like he’s only just realizing how serious he sounded. He drags a hand through his hair, ruffling the curls at the nape of his neck, then drops it, fingers tapping idly against the dock. He doesn’t meet your eyes right away, gaze flicking toward the water instead.

“Thank you,” you say eventually, your voice quieter than you intended. “I just don’t want you getting antagonized by everyone because of me. That’s the last thing I want.”

Billy scoffs, a short, dismissive laugh. “As if I give a shit what these hick townies think of me.”

You don’t respond. Instead, you watch as he stubs out his cigarette against the wooden dock beside your legs. He seems so sure of what he’s saying. And deep down, you’ve always known it to be true—Billy has never cared about anyone’s opinion. You’ve seen it in the way he carries himself, from the very first time you spotted him in the school hallways.

“Tommy H’s stupid freckled face can kiss my ass.”

The statement is so unexpected that you freeze for a second. Then you press your legs together, fighting back a laugh. Billy swats away a fly that’s just landed on your knee, his hand lingering for a moment. His touch is warm, grounding, and for the first time tonight, the tension seems to ease. There’s even the ghost of a reluctant smile on his lips. The shift in atmosphere washes over you like a wave of relief.

“So…” he starts, his thumb dragging idly along your knee.

You glance at him, curious. “Yes?”

“Are you coming or not?”

It takes a second for his words to register. When they do, you let out an exasperated laugh, shaking your head. “Billy, I’m not going to the party.”

“Why not?”

“...You know it’s not my thing.” the admission feels uncomfortable, like you’re exposing something shameful about yourself. “I’d just feel weird.”

“That’s ‘cause you’ve never tried it.”

“What makes you think Tina won’t bother me there? Everyone’s gonna be drinking, and—”

“You’ll be with me the whole time, sweetheart.” His voice is smooth, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, like you’re just making excuses.

You shoot him a doubtful look. You hadn’t even considered the possibility that he’d stick by your side all night. You’re still not convinced.

And he sees it.

Because suddenly, he lifts your leg gently, slipping beneath it as he moves closer, settling himself between your thighs. His presence feels different like this—closer, more deliberate. The warmth of his hands against your skin sends a shiver through you, but it’s not from the water.

“Come on.”

“What?” you ask with a nervous giggle, your heart stammering in your chest. His arms brush against your legs, his torso barely grazing your inner thighs.

“It’s gonna be fun.” His grin is subtle, teasing, like he already knows he’s winning.

He props himself up on his hands, the wooden dock creaking beneath the movement. The water sways below. And then his face is level with yours, his blue eyes half-lidded but impossibly intense, locking onto you like a challenge.

“Come to the party with me.”

“Billy… I…” You sigh, knowing—knowing—that right now, if he asked you to jump off a bridge, you’d probably do it without hesitation.

And when his lips brush the corner of your mouth, you know it’s over.

“Come with me.”

His voice is low, like velvet, pulling you in deeper. It’s a command, but it’s also a plea, soft but insistent. He doesn’t kiss you fully—not yet. His mouth hovers near yours, teasing, coaxing, almost as if he’s waiting for you to lean in, waiting for you to make the next move. The air between you is thick with tension, with something unspoken that neither of you can escape.

His lips place slow, wet, open mouthed kisses on your cheek. Like he has all the time in the world. And maybe he does, because you haven’t pulled away. His touch is warm, sending a trail of fire through your veins, making your breath hitch in your throat.

“Say yes.”

His words hang in the air, heavy and final. Your chest tightens. You don’t know what to say, what to do. He’s got you on the edge, holding you there, the answer in his eyes, in his touch, in the way he leans closer, as if he's asking for more than just a yes. He wants all of you.

And then, his lips are on yours, deep and slow, like he’s savoring every second, every movement. The kiss is everything. The world spins around you, and all you can feel is him, the heat of his skin, the press of his body against yours.

He doesn’t stop. He doesn’t break the kiss until you’ve lost track of time, until your mind is completely clouded with nothing but him. Your hands find their way to his shoulders, to his chest, holding onto him like he’s the only thing grounding you in this dizzying whirlwind.

And then he pulls away, but just enough for him to look into your eyes, his breath mingling with yours, his gaze dark, but searching.

“Say yes.”

You swallow hard, your pulse pounding in your ears. You’re on the edge, you know you are. And you can feel it, deep down, in your bones, that there’s no going back.

“Yes.”

[sxprot]

KISS ME, KISS ME WITH YOUR EYES CLOSED!!

Sprout X Toon!reader (romantic)

--> Also enjoy this random hcs, may be ooc lol as we don't know much about their lore. Thanks to all the writers that wrote about Sprout, ily and you all are my biggest inspiration/p

TW: nothing, just fluff or full of lies, bad grammar since my first language aint english, Reader is gn, idk how to write. This is before the ichor infection

--------

At first, when you are created, you weren't known and never been paid attention by the children and adults. Much to say that you're quite a distant type, even though there's a lot of Toons that's wandering around.

And yet, when your popularity has risen, you haven't found yourself talking to any main cast for long. Any attempts of them trying to strike up a conversation with you, only to be left with disappointment as they received nothing but merely a small talk.

Though, you feel close to common Toons, often seen chatting with them and helping their problems, you were known for your friendliness, of course.

And that seems to catch a Toon's attention!

Now now, first of all, he already saw you! Yes, you are well-known by the audiences, everyone adores you, even bought your merchs, plushies.

But he didn't get a chance to talk to you properly, noticing the way you seem to withdraw from the limelight, even when others tried to talk, you just smile and help their problems, later to be found disappearing after you're done.

So honestly! After getting a chance to meet you, it wasn't any better, actually! Even with a simple baking lesson, Sprout feels a bit awkward. And you, already feeling the anxiety building up inside your chest, only to nod sheepishly when Cosmo asked you.

Exchanging around with many waves and small gesture, you found yourself staying until Sprout left(had to, since Cosmo asked him so). You even go and gasp about it, to which your swirl roll friend shrugs, patting your back as a way to comfort.

And yet, Cosmo insists on inviting you two again to taste out his cookies as a way to get along. Many things has happened, along with your feelings for him.

-----

Okay, onto hcs...

Yk, Cosmo do thinks that you needs to make more friends, actually more like getting along with other main characters. He also thinks this as a good opportunity to lets Sprout makes another friend!

I also thought of Sprout faling first, often asking his friend Cosmo for advices on how to impress you, to which he said that Sprout should focus on being himself. Or maybe starting off with cupcakes and cookies...

The strawberry toon sometimes finds himself in his own reverie, thinking about you accepting his confession...Oh, and some domestic moments as a couple as he took care of you...with his sweet, small little love.

That one time when he was chatting with Cosmo, he suddenly saw you with Boxten interacting with each other. If you noticed his gaze and wave at him, he'd be smiling and returning the gesture back! But sometimes, Sprout would trip and hit the wall when he didn't snap out of his daze.

Imagining him confessing his love with cupcakes. The way Sprout would spent his time decorating it, writing in red frosting about him loving you. And if you accept it, he would be surpised and so happy to see you—happily agreeing to be his partner. He was in cloud nine!

"Thank you." He would said, staring at you with such fondness.

Overprotective, really. Golly, even a small boo-boos could makes him a tad bit worried! How did you managed to get yourself in such state? He would ask and tend your wounds, gentle and slow, simply reminding you to be more careful.

Matching bracelets! You, Sprout and Cosmo would made a matching bracelet for each others, haha.

Of course, you are also the first one to taste his baking, and also the first to witness the chaos when he forgot to turns off the oven, leaving the scene for you both to clean.

I hc Sprout also likes to tease you, like imagining him holding a cookie, alright? He would ask you to open your mouth and say "Aaaaaa" as he slowly twirl(?) his hand like an airplane that's flying.

"Stop it, Sprout! I'm not a kid." "Oh, come on, it's fun!"

Also, like the feeling of him planting kisses on your face? After a long day, he would like to kiss you with a content smile on his face, then yapping about his day.

He is just happy that you're his, and that he's yours. He's forever grateful for have meeting you, for you that's always patient with him, for you that's always there with him. Mwah :)

Oml, sorry if it's too ooc. I'm not a professional at dating nor any romantic...gesture? So writing them out was hard.