#because people want to pretend as if nightmare did anything good for him

[howlsofbloodhounds]

Do you genuinely dislike killermare? Just asking for clarification, im sorry if youve gotten this ask before already

I hate it. I dislike fanon Killermare a lot more though. I have found a few interpretations I can maybe like, but most I have found do not do Killer’s character any justice whatsoever and frankly I just feel Nightmare ugly ass doesn’t deserve Killer and he should keep his funky disgusting tentacles away from him. And I don’t see any reason why theyd be interested in eachother beyond a power dynamic.

[oblique-lane]

Spy tf2 and his identity

Character analysis (or at least my vision on him, if you believe my reasoning)

What do we know about Spy? He's a disguise mastermind. He can pretend to be anyone in order to infiltrate into the scene to do his job - quite literally, stab people on the back. But when he's not in the battle, what is he to his teammates? A suave Frenchman, a gentleman with taste, somewhat a leader.

At least, that's the persona he prefers to show. But is he really..?

What if I tell you that this person never drops his disguise?

For a man who always wears a mask and who's identity being secret is a sacred part of his role in this job, isn't this persona too much to show if it is real? Frenchman, rich, ladykiller... Wouldn't it be too easy to decipher his identity with so much clues provided? Wouldn't it be dangerous?

While Miss Pauling and the Administrator definitely know Spy's real identity, hiding it is a major thing for whatever reason. One could assume it might be because of Scout (obvious guess) but I doubt he's a sole reason. Spy very much enjoys being the Spy all by himself. Do what's the deal?

Let's start from the beginning.

Why did Spy join Mann Co. in the first place?

Let's take this assumption as a fact: people come here out of desperation. They are professionals in their field, yet in their past/casual life there is a pattern of them having difficulties that push them into joining this service. I don't see why Spy would be an exception.

The reason for joining is usually money. Some people question why Spy, a wealthy man from higher society, would join Mann Co. if he has it all already.

Well, probably because he really does not.

Have you ever met an aristocrat? Wealthy people don't get so protective about their expensive suits, they can afford cleaning or a new one. Regardless, rich people don't usually get stingy about material goods, especially if they're mass produced.

At least, not those who were born into wealth.

Spy's defensiveness about his "wealthy stuff", his pomp-ness, disgust and arrogance towards "plebs" gives off a man who knows what it means to live in poverty and who doesn't want to be associated with it ever again.

(Not even talking about his own filthy habits such as not washing his mask and pissing on walls? Jesus Christ)

Dare I even guess that he might be not French at all? His French is so broken. (Although, so is Medic's German, but at least he uses his language much more frequently and in more complex sentences, while Spy only uses French to say some basic expressions, occasionally confusing them with other languages). Definitely not a native.

If anything, he's not giving "rich man" at all, he's giving con man. And that fits my picture perfectly.

So, poor upbringing. How old is Spy? If he's Scout's father (and he was young when he was conceived), I'd say he's no less than 20 years older than him. I'd give him a few more years actually. So, approximately Spy is around 50 at the events of the game (1968-1972). Let's assume he was born somewhere in the 1910s.

Even if he's not French, I still agree that he's probably European. Hmm, what was happening in Europe at the time Spy was a kid?

Oh yeah. The Great Depression.

See my picture: imagine, a child from a lower class family during the Great Depression, his parents were most likely to not take good care about him (both because of the economical situation AND as an echo to Spy's struggles with his own fatherhood). He has to run away from home early and start to make money. Any way possible.

Unavoidably, it leads to crime.

Petty theft, blackmail, scams. Changing identities. Selling low quality products and services. Changing identities again. When older, seducing rich women to stay at their homes overnight, be fed and supported. Running away from the police. Walking into a trap of the mafia, and then joining them as their goon.

In this nightmare of a life he just had to keep pretending to be someone else, someone better and stronger, in order to his ego to not completely shutter. He had to imagine he was an invincible mastermind trickster of some sort, not just a poor boo-hoo victim of poverty who has never knew normal life and care.

And if you pretend for long enough, you become your role eventually... Right?

His true self was long lost forgotten under many layers of new identities. Worse, his true self was never known. And he didn't want it to be known in its ugly and disgusting vulnerability. Narcissism became his lifeline.

It's so much better to be Spy. To be rich and elegant and respected. His ego rebuilt.

[mrsmnsn]

My valentine

Summary: You and your best friend found a way to get away from all the valentine’s day by doing your own program. But, being alone for a long time only meant you two were horny and needy for affection.

wc: 3.3k (i got a little excited writing it, sorry)

warnings: friends to lovers; smut!!! +18 please (you’re responsible for yourself babe, but i warned you); fluff; masturbation (m!reciving); inexperienced!femreader. Tell if something is missing.

authors note: I know i’m a little late with valentines thing but i couldn’t help myself. I really liked the result and i hope you do too. It’s a new thing writing smutty things but i hope it’s not terrible. <3

*update*- i just posted a part two!

**********

It was valentine’s day and you felt like you were the loneliest person in the world. Everyone was with their partners when you were all by yourself. Of course you were being dramatic but you were tired of having to pretend that it was okay to be single because you don’t needed a boy to make you happy. But you wanted to.

The same thing happened to your best friend. Eddie was all by himself. He was never the guy the girls would die for. They were too scared to see how pretty he was. But he also had been feeling kind of alone. He would walk in the market and see all the decorations he hated so much. Not only in school, everywhere, people would be all over each other. He always hated valentine’s day but he never knew that was because of his jealousy and would always blame in the capitalism and its ways to persuade people.

As you both would be alone, to distract you from thinking about couples making out, you created your own thing. You would go at each other’s house to watch movies together, eat junk food and talk about stuff. For two years you’ve been doing this and this year was your time being a host. At this time, you got lucky your parents weren’t home for the week. In the first year, you brought Eddie home and your mom kept asking non stop questions about him and how did you finally realized you were made for each other.

“You’re late.” You opened the door for him, taking the boxes off his hands.

“I’m sorry my lady, is my butler work not good enough for you?” He said in a english accent mocking you. “There was a lot of people ordering pizzas too. They copied our idea.”

“Fine. I just took the cookies out of the oven.” You pointed to the baking sheet “What movies did you pick?”

“Well, let’s see.There is the movie you asked for with the cats”

“Did you take the right one? Or just some movie about a cat?”

“Is the Disney one, right? The Aristocats? I got this one, nightmare on elm street and fast times at ridgemont high.” Eddie only took this last one because Steve said ’there’s some very interesting scenes about a girl, if you know what i mean’. Of course Eddie knew the girl’s titties would show up, he’d never watched it because he thought it would be a shitty movie. “If i want to see boobs i’ll just watch porn or i’ll buy a magazine” he would say. But he really thought about it and that would be the only way to make you watch something like that with him.

Once he asked if girls watched porn and you just ignored the question. He wanted to see your reaction and he knew you would never watch something like that, let alone with a guy. It would be the closest thing to porn you’d watch.

Also it was a secret to no one that he had a little massive crush on you. Maybe it was a secret only for you. Eddie don’t even know when did it started. One day you were just a girl who he was friends with but suddenly you were much more then that. You were hot, interesting, cute, smart and he couldn’t help but be enamored with you. But he never did anything to change that, to afraid of making you run away from him. To him, in that situation, your relationship as friends was more important. He wouldn’t stand to lose you. So he buried his feelings deep down and pretended it that never happened.

“Eddie it’s not Halloween. We’re not watching that, you know i can’t sleep afterwards.”

“Alright, no horror movies” He discarded the movie

“So is gonna be aristocats and this other movie. Is this even good? I never saw it.” Of course you saw it. Since Dustin told you guys his girlfriend was a hotter version of Phoebe Cates you had to. You scolded him after.

“It was on the recommendation board so we’ll have to trust in that”

********

Eddie had never seen the Disney movie before. It was for kids but you always loved it since you were a little kid. And if you loved, he’d watch it for you (he would not admit but he loved it too). There you were in the second movie. You had seen it two years ago so you were focused on the movie. But with that, you forgot about the boobs

“Oh…” Your cheeks got red. Seeing that by yourself was ok. But right by Eddie’s side, you got embarrassed and tried not to look at the tv in front of you. In the meantime, he was looking at you to see your reaction.

“Oh, sorry. I didn’t know that would happen” He said trying to sound like he was surprised

“Don’t worry, i see this every day.”

Eddie didn’t payed attention in the movie anymore. Were you talking about porn?

When the movie ended you went to bed and Eddie came with you. Being friends for a long time made you so accustomed to be around each other that now you would insist that he would sleep with you in your bed and not on the couch.

He would not sleep if he kept the question to himself. He had to ask.

“Good night Eds. Thanks for today. It was really nice!”

“Sure sweetheart, i had a good time too!”

And the place got quiet. It was now or never.

“Hey… can i ask you something?”

You just hummed

“Well… Earlier, when we were watching the movie you said that you would see it everyday when we saw the girl’s titties. With that do you… you know, d’ya mean you see boobs everyday in like, porn?”

“What? Why would you say that?” You said looking at his face even though the room was dark

“I don’t know why it just came in my head like, come on!”

“Eddie… i’m a girl. I see them everyday because i have them. Just like every woman. Go sleep, will ya.”

Eddie don’t know if that make it better or worse. Not that he didn’t know you had boobs. Of course you had. But now, you had boobs, you’d watch them and everything came to Eddie as a movie. Or as a dream in witch it really did. Right by your side, in your bed, in your house. Eddie had a wet dream about you. I wasn’t the first time. But it was in you house, close to you. Till then, he was sleeping and his mind was working on making him hard by the images of you touching your boobs while you were fucked by him.

You had woken up first, not realizing his morning wood, you went to the bathroom, then to the kitchen to take a glass of water and came back. But now he’d moved and, in his sweatpants, his “situation” was pretty obvious.

That scared the shit out of you. What would you do? Should you go back to sleep? Or try to pretend you never saw it. You weren’t a boy, but that seemed to be very uncomfortable. Suddenly you got hot. Seeing his dick poking out in his pants, his bare torso shown by his shirt that was lifted up. His wild hair that framed his face. Of course you knew you had feelings for Eddie, but you never did anything to let him know. It was a secret only for you and you only. You couldn’t do anything about your best friend. Even if he had a boner and got you all worked up.

He started to move around and to wake up when he saw you sitting on the bed and looking at the ceiling. Before saying anything he felt it. “Holy fuck!” that’s what he thought. He started to panic. Did you saw it. Would he be fast enough to run to the bathroom and try to work on it. “No, you shithead, you can’t jerk in her bathroom”

You realize his movements and looked at him. You knew that he knew you knew. Now the blanket were covering him.

“Mornin” He said casually and you nodded you head, trying not to lend your eyes on his cock to see if you could still see his bulge. “You saw it, right?”

“Saw what? I-I just woke up!” You said a little to fast “I mean, i barely opened my eyes and- yeah, i saw it.” you stopped when you saw his expressions getting amused. If you already saw it, there wasn’t a reason to be concerned anymore.

“Don’t worry, that happens sometimes” he said as if he didn’t have any dreams. It was just normal

“What? Out of nowhere?”

“Yeah, sort of…” He said remembering you in his dream and resisting the urge to touch his cock

“Can’t you like, turn it off or something”

He laughed at you face. You were getting more and more uncomfortable and in the same time, a bit horny. “It’s not like the tv we watched last night. You can’t turn it off.”

“But…” You saw his face. He was looking at you “I don’t get it”

“Well, i don’t know how to explain it” He tried to sound confident about it “It’s like when your nipples get hard when you women get cold. It not a thing you control” That part was true. He couldn’t control his dick or his mind so he wouldn’t find you attractive.

“But it seems to be painful” You said looking at him getting up.

“It is a little. I’ll go to the bathroom to try to ‘turn it off’” He said giggling

“Wait Eddie!” He turned to you and now you could see how big he was. Even with his pants, it was visible. “You don’t have to do it by yourself. Can i do something? Like, can i help you?”

Eddie froze in place. He would go take a cold shower and have thoughts about random things that wasn’t you. He was not going to masturbate in there. Was he still dreaming?

“Sorry! Oh i’m so so sorry. I don’t know what i was thinking about” You regret when you saw how his face got to serious.

“No no no. Don’t be sorry. I’m just surprised, that’s all.” He sat again looking at you cover your face “I mean, we’re friends. Last time i checked, friends don’t usually give a handy to other friends.”

“I’m so fucking stupid and embarrassingly alone that i let this stupid date get in my mind. I don’t know…”

“Were you willing to do it? For real?” He was really curious to know if you would jerk him off. That had to mean something, right?

“I’m sorry, it’s fucking crazy!” Hugging your knees, you looked at him and forced your arms to open

“Come on, don’t be so harsh. Were you?”

You nodded to scared of his reactions to your horny attitudes

“I thought you were virgin and said you were inexperienced in everything”

“It can’t be that hard” You whispered and looked at his eyes. Those pleading eyes that were begging to go back in time but were just reassuring Eddie that the shower would not ‘turn it off’ anymore.

“What if i said i wanted you to do it, huh? Would that be to weird?”

Now it was your turn to be shocked. Now he was asking you to do it. Was it to weird? Maybe a little, but only because you never did it before and because it was your best friend.

“I don’t know Eddie… I think you just as crazy as me” He laughed at that

“I might be a little. But it’s a good thing” You were feeling more comfortable now. It was your Eddie again and not some guy you had a crush on. “I know what you’re thinking. But, don’t you think i never wondered how would it be to kiss you? You are the most amazing friend i could have and with that comes this feeling too. But i don’t want to lose you. You’re to important for me”

“You too. Honestly i’d be lost without you. But i also wonder how would it be, you know…”

You kept looking at him and he did the same. You were making sure that it was the right thing to do. The he closed the gap between you two. Bodies bonding and connecting to each other. Your lips were so soft. Eddie was sure he was in his dream now. His hands that before was holding your face, now went to your back, caressing your waist. And your hands ran from his shoulders to his hair, tugging some locks of it and making him groan.

Things heated up and he pulled you to his lap. His bulge was now touching your crotch. With his hands on your waist, he took advantage of that and encouraged you to move back and forth making you feel so good. The friction was perfect. His lips were perfect. The way he was kissing you like he waited his whole life for it. Separating to breathe, you leaned on him, your foreheads touching, but your movements continued slightly.

“For a very inexperienced girl, you’re a hell of a kisser. Damn, are you sure you’re telling the truth?” He said panting with his eyes closed and his lips curled to a smile. You smiled back

“Yeah, i assure you. Don’t make me feel like i’m too good though. I’m gonna get too cocky.”

“Tell that to him” He pressed you down on him and, once again, you felt his hard dick. ‘How can it be so hard?’ you thought

“Can i take of your pants?” you asked a little scared

“Sure thing, sweetheart” He was smiley. He helped you to take it off and wow. You were a little shocked. It was big. You thought about it for a second and you honestly thought he was not average.

“Can i say something too?” He nodded while he pulled you back to him. “I don’t know what you’re thinking right now but i just wanted to tell you so you don’t have any expectations. I don’t even know if you have any-” You were talking super fast, Eddie had to shut you up with a kiss. “Sorry. I was saying that, i think i still need some time, you know, if you want to have actual sex.”

“It’s alright. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to here”

“But i really wanted to do this. To help you here.” You said running your hand from his chest to his lower belly and his cock twitched. You wasn’t expecting that to happen “Is this normal” He nodded and giggled

“Are you sure you want to do it? You know, i’m not proud to say it, but have jerked off before. Plenty of times actually. If you’re not comfortable doing it, it’s not a problem for me to do it by myself.” It was melting your heart in the way he was talking to you. Caring about you.

“Yes i am! I’m just… insecure about it. I don’t know how to-.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll show you how, alright?” It was you time to nod you head. “A’right then. First thing, we need it to be wet, so you’ll have to spit on you hand.”

You hesitated but gathered a good amount of saliva on your mouth and spited on your hand.

“That’s right. Very good. Now you can wrap your hand around it” You just didn’t know where to. Was he talking about the tip or the base. You went for the tip.

Groaning low, he cleared his throat “Good girl. Now you can just make some circles around the tip and then go down.” You did what you were told to and that seemed to work. Your foreheads, that were glued to this time, separated a little before he came back. Both of you looking at your hand moving around his red tip leaking pre cum.

“Is that normal?”

“It means it’s fucking good” Even his voice changed. It was getting rougher and lower.

“Can you guide me a little. I’m scared i’ll squeeze you too hard” you said and his hand wrapped around yours.

“Don’t be afraid. It’s better when is tight. I’ll let you know if it’s to much” He let you do it by yourself when you got the right rhythm and grip.

Your hand were moving tightly up and down. You didn’t know if it was there before, you didn’t notice because you were to focus, but his hands were squeezing your tights hard. You could feel your panties getting soaked. How come you were excited by jerking him off.

More of the liquid you saw before came out and you ran your thumb over it. He let out a moan that rambled inside you body.

“Can you, please, go a little faster than that” And that’s what you did. The moan you heard was the first of many others that came along. You had gathered, again, more saliva and thought that it would be nice to be even wetter than it was. So you separated a little from him, looking at his confused eyes trying to read you. You separated enough to bend down and to spit on it again, looking at his eyes roll back, throwing his head back. You came back to your position, proud that you did something good without him telling you.

Your movements got faster than before and he, restless panting, kissed you. You wanted to make him cum hard. So you separated the kiss, kept up the speed, flashing him your boobs. That was the final push for Eddie.

The way he grabbed you and moan at your ear was insanely hot. You watched ropes of cum come of his dick. Your hand were now with white and sticky cum.

“Holy fucking shit!” He panted for the last time and let go of his grip on you. “Are you really sure you’re inexperienced?”

“I might’ve heard some advice about it from some friends” You said getting out of his lap, but he stopped you

“Where are you going?”

“I’ve been up here for a while, i don’t want to hurt your legs. Besides, my hand is a little dirty.” He laughed a little

“Let’s clean up and come back here then.”

That’s what you did. When you came back, he pulled you to his chest and you started to talk.

“You know, i got hard because i had a wet dream about you. Probably because of the movie. But you were in a bikini like hers and, well… you know the rest.”

“Really? What a perv.” You laughed together. You couldn’t be more happy to let this felling out of your chest. You didn’t know for how long you could keep that from him.

“What i mean is that, i really hope you don’t think that i’m doing this just because i was hard and you were there to help. I like you, not in a friend way and, if you let me, i would like to make you my girlfriend one day, if you want. For real. Take you out to dates, stay together doing whatever the shit we’ll want, give you things that i know you will love. This kinda shit.”

“If you want to, i would love to be your girlfriend. And all of the things you mentioned. Well… you know, you already do all of that. The sex is new though.”

He laughed and kissed you passionately

“Great. Now, you’ll get see how much fun we’re gonna have” You spent the rest of your valentine’s day like this. Laughing and kissing each other.

[all-purpose-dish-soap]

27 / 1.7k / spreading rumors about dating Gaz, part 2

⬇ nsfw; mention of revenge porn

...

Gaz doesn't negotiate. He doesn't back down. When the situation calls for it, he knows when it's time to escalate.

That's why he fucks you on your dining room table instead of a public bathroom. Partly because he's not a slag. The idea of you possibly agreeing to do it--of giving him the same ammunition you gave your ex to humiliate you--leaves a sour taste in his mouth. Even if you started rumors and risked his reputation.

A growl rises in his throat at the thought of your ex having the gall to send him that video of you. Christ. What on Earth did you see in him?

Partly, though, he wants to fuck you in your own house so that when he next sees your prat of an ex-boyfriend, he can properly rub it in that fucker's face that you invited him in on the first date.

Or maybe he'll take a picture of your panties in his teeth. He hasn't decided yet.

You're strung out with pleasure, your bare back against the table. You’re caught between wondering why he wanted to fuck you after all and letting every last reservation about it vanish into nothing. You’ve always wanted this. You never thought it would happen.

"Sergeant," you gasp out. "Is this-- what about your reputation--?"

"Don't start." His fingers trail the lines of your body, his eyes fixed on the parts of you he caught only blurry glimpses of in your ex's video. It didn't do you justice.

He wants to pretend there's nothing to this besides convenience--you did owe him. Hell, you wanted to sleep with him. You always made that crystal clear. Now he's just allowing himself to give in to baser impulses like a dog snatching up a rabbit thrown into its path.

But you're right. This will look bad if someone finds out. He should worried, but it's hard to care about that when the thing competing for his attention is the filthy way your pussy swallows him again and again, seeing how slick you leave the base of his cock.

He should've used a condom. He knows for a fact you knew he didn't and you said nothing. He'd tell you off for it now, too, but he's absolutely certain it would just make you cum. The nerve of you.

His hips stutter for a second before he can banish that thought from his mind. He shouldn't like the idea of you being that obsessed. Acting like you'd do anything he asked. Christ, work would be a nightmare if this got out. Him actually sleeping with you. But then again, he suddenly doesn't much like the idea of you finding a different rebound. You'd just be thinking of him anyway, right? Wouldn’t you?

Whatever. He’ll deal with the fallout later. When he's not enjoying your body.

“Who’s going to know?” he murmurs, eyes falling to your chest. “Let it go.”

“Mkay,” you sigh out. There's nothing more you want than to please him right now.

"You'd do anything I asked, wouldn't you." It's not a question. You both know it's true. And he likes that--he hates admitting it, but he does. His eyes drop to your pussy again, and his hips pick up their pace.

You've spent months flirting with him, teasing him about taking you to bed. Now you're getting everything you want. He's right. Why would you care one goddamn second about the consequences? “Anything.”

He hates how needy you sound when you say that. You're too trusting. He's taking advantage of you. Don't you get that?

His grip on your hips tightens, pushing into you more and more roughly. Your moans rise in pitch and he has to grit his teeth.

“Good." He says lowly. "Then you won't tell a soul about this, will you?"

"But--ah, ngh..." You bite your lip as he stops thrusting and grinds himself into you. You gyrate your hips, needing friction. "But people already think we're together."

“Do they? That’s a bold claim.” You're overestimating how many people believe silly rumors. Besides, it's hardly your concern anymore. He lays his palms flat on the table on either side of you, bracing himself. Your skin is so soft; your neck tempts him, but he restrains himself. "You're keeping your mouth shut from now on, yeah?"

You let out a sound of frustration as he slows even further. You try to push your hips harder against his. "Sergeant, please!"

"You want this, don't you?" His voice is chilled, but the heat in his eyes as he stares down at your bucking hips is hardly discouraging. "You'll want it again. You'll keep wanting it."

"Ugh, yes," you snap, squeezing your thighs fruitlessly around his toned waist.

"As long as you don't tell a soul about this, I’ll see to it that you get what you want," he growls. "Not your team, your friends, your stupid ex. No one."

You open your mouth to question him again, but he pulls away and snaps his hips hard into yours. Whatever you were about to say dissolves into a string of semi-coherent affirmations. Yes, you'll keep it quiet. Yes, you'll pretend none of this ever happened. Yes, you'll never use his name on base again. Anything he wants. Just don't stop.

"Good girl. Good girl..." Easy enough. Now that he knows how to get his way with you, you shouldn't be such a problem anymore. He can’t help but be a little greedy, though. "You're not going to fuck anyone else, either."

"Never!"

He grunts in approval. "And you'll never--and I mean never --try to get back with your ex. Understand? You'll stay away from him."

You writhe and plead, winding your arms around his shoulders. He grabs your wrists and pins them to the table, the muscles in his arms taut.

"Do. You. Understand?" His voice comes down on you like low thunder, all around you.

"Yes!"

"Good. I'll know if you do. Mm…" His breathing grows shallow. Your heat is impossibly tight, and tightening up even more. He squeezes your wrists. "You going to cum?"

"C-Can I?" you breathe out. "Please, can I cum?"

His hips stutter and he has to close his eyes for a moment. God, he's never been tested like this.

"Sergeant, please!"

"Cum," he says, the word short and sharp like gunfire. "Cum on my cock. Right now."

He presses his thumb to your clit and you wail, clenching around him like you haven't cum in weeks. Your body rolls, practically convulses, your head knocking against your dining table as you arch up. He lets out a snarl, not slowing down despite how painfully tight you squeeze him.

Once you come down from the high, his pace never slowing, your swollen core twitches and spasms with overstimulation. You cry out, but you make yourself stay in place. You want to keep making him feel good. You want to make him feel better than he ever has.

"Cum inside me," you pant out. "I-I'm on birth control. You can-- please--"

"You're a liar," he growls through clenched teeth even as he picks up his pace.

"I promise," you plead. Even if you're a liar, and you are, you're not lying about this. God, you want him to do it so bad you can feel yourself clench up again at the thought.

You're teetering on the edge of another orgasm when he pulls out, spilling his load across your chest and stomach instead.

You clench down on nothing, feeling a strange sense of satisfaction even as your orgasm ebbs out of reach. You let your head fall back onto the table, your breathing heavy. You don't see his eyes running over you, deliberating.

"Sergeant?"

"Mm?"

"Do you maybe want my phone number?" Almost seems like a silly question. He has your address now anyway.

"Hm." He pulls away, picking up your discarded purse from the mess of clothes on the floor. He pulls out your phone and opens your texts, types in his number, and sends himself a quick message. Then he finds your conversation with your ex-boyfriend. His eyes narrow. The last texts exchanged were earlier tonight. And you started it. You told him you were out to dinner with someone else. Just to get a rise out of your ex. It obviously worked.

That's okay, he figures, opening the menu and blocking your ex's number. If there's one person he does want to know about this, it's that arsehole. Maybe now he'll stay away from you.

You sit up. "Kyle?"

His eyes meet yours, steady and unwavering. "Yeah?"

"Were you serious?"

"I was."

"Even about coming over again?"

"I mean every word I say.” He hands your phone back to you and begins to get dressed.

You watch him, grasping the edge of the table. "When will you be back?"

"My squad leaves on assignment tomorrow. Don't know how long it'll be." He zips up and grabs his t-shirt. "I'll text you."

"Right, right." You suppress a sigh. "Always got a job to do."

He slings his coat over his shoulder, then pauses. He knows he shouldn't, but he can't help but reach his hand out to your cheek. He runs the back of his finger over your jawline. Then he disguises the tender gesture by gripping your chin and pulling it up so you're looking him in the eye.

"Behave," he tells you, voice low. "No sleeping around. No flirting of any kind. Is that clear?"

Your heart pounds. You swallow and nod.

"Good," he says, holding your gaze a moment longer.

As he leaves, closing the door behind him, he curses himself.

This is not a good idea. What's he trying to do, fix you? Stupid, stupid, stupid. This isn't going to end well. You're not good for him. But damn if he doesn't feel more satisfied than he has in years.

He has no choice. If he wants you to behave, he'll have to keep your eyes on him. Whether he’s on base or not.

...

part 1 / [part 2]

more Gaz / masterlist tag

[bucketsofmonsters]

Without Expectation

You know how everyone is talking about how Astarion has a difficult relationship with hero characters bc he felt abandoned by them when he was suffering? What if, during his 200 years of imprisonment, he’d met one? Very much inspired by this post

cw: pre-game astarion, Cazador, prostitution and non-consensual sex alluded to but never shown, healing from trauma, Astarion being sexualized, Astarion sexualizing himself, objectification, blood drinking, he’s kind of sexually aggressive in this but it's just because he’s scared and he doesn’t know anything else, reader is from a group of monster hunters that I made up who have been harassing Cazador, they are separate from any in-game monster hunters who are less Astarion friendly

Astarion x gn reader

Word count: 6k

He was charming. Pretty words, perfect hair, a dashing smile, and hollow eyes. 

The second Cazador had said the word, he was all over you. 

You couldn’t turn down the offer. Not for the promise of pleasure, that was the last thing on your mind looking at him. 

But if you got him alone you could talk to him, outside of the watchful eye of his master. 

He had you pinned to the wall of your bedroom before you could even say a word. You had to shove him back and he stumbled, a frightened, hurt look crossing his face before the practiced charm slipped easily back. 

“Oh, you like to play rough, do you? That’s fine with me, I don’t mind being pushed around a little.”

“Stop,” you pleaded with him. “Please, can I just speak for a second?”

“Say whatever you’d like, darling.”

“Listen… Astarion, wasn’t it?”

He smirked at you. “It is, but you can call me whatever you'd like.”

“Astarion, you don’t have to do this.”

“Of course I don’t. I want to. Don’t you want me?” He moved to get into your space again but you stepped back and he didn’t follow. 

You did your best to push past his flirtation. “How often does he make you do things like this?”

“Like this? Not often. My lovers don’t typically live to see the morning. Although I suppose it doesn’t make much difference to me,” he said with a laugh, one that felt practiced and put on. 

“Oh.” You couldn’t imagine it, being forced to not only be with so many people but to send them off to their deaths night after night. 

Your eyes drifted down as your thoughts spiraled and he grabbed your chin, pulling your face up so your eyes met once more, directing all your attention back to him. “Is that what’s bothering you, darling? I promise Cazador has given me very clear instructions on how well you should be treated.”

“No, that’s not the problem.” You dropped your head into your hands as you tried to figure out what to do. “God, this is such a nightmare. Listen, I can sleep on the couch, you should take the bed,” you said, gesturing vaguely at the loveseat tucked in the corner of the room.

“Come now, that’s not necessary my dear,” he practically purred at you. 

You felt a little more nauseous with every pass he made at you. “You really don’t have to do that, I swear. Not in here at least. It would probably be prudent to pretend in front of Cazador but that’s an issue for tomorrow.”

“Even if you don’t want sex,” he said with a little roll of his eyes. “The couch is not necessary. I promise I won’t bite.”

It was a bad idea. You knew that much. But the bed looked so soft and comfortable and the couch wasn’t even long enough to fit all of you if you tried to lie down. 

You sat on the bed tentatively and sunk into the mattress. It was by far the most comfortable bed you’d ever been in and you ran your hand along the silky sheets. “Alright, but we’ll just be sleeping,” you said with a pointed look in his direction. 

In a heartbeat, you were pushed back onto the mattress and he was looking over you, his hands on either side of your head as he grinned down at you. “Are you certain, my dear? I could make you feel so good.”

“I’m sure you could,” you said with a smile, cupping his face in your hands. His eyes lit up at the contact and it was clear that he thought he’d done it, that he'd won you over. “But that won’t be necessary.”

You leaned up and pressed a kiss into his forehead before gently pushing him off of you back towards his side of the bed. 

He seemed wounded and frightened by the gesture, a far cry from the practiced seduction you’ve seen from him so far. “You don’t want me.”

“I assure you that is not the problem,” you said, careful to keep your voice gentle. 

He did not seem convinced, a tragic vulnerability starting to seep through his facade.

As he stared at you, a worried look plastered across his face, you grabbed some of the many pillows from the top of the bed, placing a few between the two of you. 

He scoffed at the sight. “I don’t know what those are meant to stop. Not exactly impenetrable security against a rabid vampire.”

“They’re not for you. I have a tendency to get… grabby, in my sleep.”

He huffed, folding his arms as he finally conceded ground and laid down next to you. “Good. Maybe you’ll be more interesting than when you are awake.”

You doubted he’d find you snuggling a pillow particularly interesting but you let him interpret your words however he pleased. 

“Perhaps. Now if it’s all the same to you, I’m going to sleep now.”

“It’s not all the same to me, thank you very much.”

“Alright,” you said with a yawn. “Goodnight.”

You woke up with your arms wrapped around a pillow from your little wall, holding it close to your chest as you eased your eyes open to see Astarion unabashedly staring at you. 

He spoke as soon as he caught wind you were awake. “You weren’t kidding about being grabby, you’re practically smothering the poor thing.”

Your face warmed slightly at his words, embarrassment fluttering in your chest. “It’s an old habit. What about you, couldn’t sleep?”

“Elves don’t sleep.”

You suddenly felt incredibly foolish. “Oh. Right. So you’ve just been sitting there all night then?”

“I tranced for a while. It was certainly a more boring night than I expected.”

You yawned as you sat up, setting the pillow you’d been holding behind you. “Terribly sorry to disappoint. Hopefully, there will be many more boring nights in your future.”

He pulled back, cocking his head to the side. “What?”

You realized you hadn’t told him of your little scheme yet. “I was thinking. This whole meeting with Cazador was more of a formality than anything. He’s killed too many of our people, we need to make this deal, at least until we can figure out how to sort him out for good. But he doesn’t know that and maybe, if you’re amiable to it, I could throw in a final term to the deal. Where he has to give me… well, you. Not that you should be his to give, but I figure if I can save someone from this place and I didn’t, what kind of a monster would I be?”

His eyes narrowed. “What do you want from me?”

You shrugged. “I’d say nothing if I thought you’d believe me. If you need to rationalize it, let’s just say it’s an ego boost. Now I get to feel like a good person and you get to leave this place. As long as I don’t mess it up too badly.”

Mistrust was written across his face and it seemed like the first completely honest emotion you’d been able to pull from him. 

“I don’t believe you.”

“That’s fine, we can fix that after I get you out of here.” You sighed. “Wish me luck. I’m an awful liar.”

He trailed after you as you left, seemingly incapable of letting you out of his sight. 

Maybe he was. Maybe he’d been ordered to do so. You had no way to tell. It made your heart hurt, the sight of him here, the idea of Cazador’s other spawn that you couldn’t save. At least not yet. 

He followed you like a loyal pup all the way to Cazador, who was lounging in a chair without a care in the world. 

He chuckled at the sight of Astarion behind you. “And how was my spawn? To your satisfaction?”

You swallowed down that bile that rose in you as you said, “He was a delight. I was wondering, in the name of our agreement, is there any way I could keep him? It’s just that I’ve grown quite fond of him so very quickly.”

Cazador laughed, a putrid, callous thing. “I’m sure. He can be quite… convincing. And this would make you amenable to my terms?”

You nodded. “All the monster hunters in Baldur's Gate will focus their attention in… other places. You and yours will be entirely safe from our wrath.”

“And if we’d like to push you in the direction of another creature?”

You gave him a tactful nod. “We could be convinced.”

“Good.” He laughed once more. “Typical monster hunter. You pretend to hate us and yet you want to keep a vampire pet.”

Astarion leaned into your side and you felt a little queasy at the performance as you snaked your arm around him. “Like I said, he was very convincing.”

He sighed. “You drive a hard bargain. As you wish, you shall have your terms. Just tell me if he doesn’t behave. I can get him sorted right out for you.”

It took everything you had not to lunge at him thinking about everything he’d put this poor man through. “Of course, but I’m sure I’ll be able to manage just fine on my own.”

You got out of there as fast as you could. Even if you hadn’t had Astarion with you, you didn’t want to spend any longer than absolutely necessary with the monster. 

You pulled him through the streets back to the house you were staying in, racing against the sun. You barely had enough time to get him there and pull him inside, but you had a feeling he’d prefer this mad dash over staying another day with his master.

Regardless, the whole time your eyes were darting around, looking for places you could hide him should you need to. 

You wondered what you’d even do if it had come to that. Just sit with him for the rest of the day, you supposed, unless he wanted to try a risky maneuver with a thick blanket. 

You tried to pull him inside but it was like an invisible wall had stopped him in his tracks. You gave him a questioning look and he grumbled, “You have to invite me.”

“Oh! I’m sorry, come in!”

As soon as the words left your mouth, he rushed in beside you and you set yourself to making sure all of the widows were fully shut, pulling the curtains tight. 

He watched you dart about, tugging at the thick fabric. His gaze was judgemental but at least the emotion seemed genuine. 

As soon as you were mostly certain he wouldn’t burn to death, you turned to him. “We won’t be leaving for a while so you can make yourself at home. If you need anything just let me know, okay?”

You didn’t see him for the whole day. You were busy and he made himself scarce. You couldn’t blame him. You imagined he’d long since made it a habit to avoid being seen by anyone. Anyone except his forced prey, you supposed. But still, he hid away from them, in his own way. 

“Astarion, can you come look at this?” you called out as the sun finally dipped fully below the horizon, hoping he was close enough that he could hear you. And hoping he would come even if he did. 

It took a few minutes but eventually he came sauntering down the stairs. 

“Yes, my dear?”

You grabbed his arm and pulled him towards the window, gesturing out at the carriage that was illuminated by torches alone, shrouded in the thick darkness of the night. “Do you think it’ll be alright? The last thing I want is for you to get hurt.”

He stared out at the carriage you’d spent hours painstakingly attempting to make impenetrable to light. You’d painted the windows black, hung blankets over top of them, shoved old linens in the cracks in the doors. 

He cautiously headed outside, staring at the carriage with furrowed brows. “Did you do this?”

“Yeah, I tested it during the day. It seemed pretty solid but obviously you couldn’t check then. I could bring a torch around the outside if you wanted to check for yourself.”

He looked at you like you were mad. “We could have just traveled at night.”

You shrugged. “It’s a two-day journey and I didn’t want to depend on inns and shelter along the road to protect you during the day. This seemed safer.”

He opened the door, sitting inside and looking around at the painstakingly covered windows and cracks, and you couldn’t tell if he seemed uncomfortable because he was worried about the sun or because of the sheer amount of effort you’d clearly put into it. 

“Do you want anything for the ride?” you asked, pushing forward. “Some books or something? I could go get them for you.” 

“Your company is all I could ask for.”

“Okay, but for real though. Never mind, I’ll just get you some books.” You doubted you’d be able to pull an honest answer from him for a very long time, if at all. 

After a frenzied book run, the two of you were ready to head off, locking yourselves inside the carriage until the sun set once more. 

The bumps of the carriage jostled the two of you as you rode. The flickering orange light of two lanterns, one for each of you, barely illuminated the darkened space and you couldn’t help but feel a little claustrophobic. 

He was sitting, staring at you, book untouched on his lap. 

You’d brought as many options as you could think of, romance novels, epics, history, a horticultural book that had pulled a snort and an incredulous look from him when he’d seen it. 

He didn’t seem much in the mood for reading and under his unblinking gaze, neither were you. Instead, you stared at the painted-over window, wishing there was anything else you had to look at in the dim light. 

“Admiring your paint job?” he asked with a chuckle as you continued to refuse to meet his unblinking gaze. 

“Something like that.” You decided to take the broken silence as an opportunity. Anything was better than being silently stared at and you weren’t sure you’d get a better chance to ask him. “Can I ask you something that’s potentially insensitive?”

He smirked at you with that practiced allure. “Ask away.”

“Were you one of his favorites? Cazador's, I mean.”

He scoffed. “In a way. He loved torturing me more than anyone else.”

You leaned forward. “So it might be easier to convince him to part with the others?”

His eyes narrowed at you and you watched as he tried once again to figure out what your angle was. “You’ve got a real bleeding heart, don’t you?”

“We’ve been unable to hurt him for so long, failed at it for years and years. Every day you were there was because we weren’t good enough at what we did. I can’t help it, I feel a little responsible for you. For all of you.”

“Oh please,” he said with a roll of his eyes. “Like I’m not one of the monsters you hunt.”

You cocked your head to the side. “Why would you be? Who have you hurt?”

He laughed a cold, cruel laugh. “Darling, you have no idea how many people I’ve hurt.”

“You haven’t though. Cazador hurt people through you, sure. But you didn’t hurt anyone, not really. You’re a victim just as much as they were. At least we managed to save some of them.”

He squirmed in his seat. “I think they might disagree.”

You shrugged, something delicate in his eyes telling you not to push. “Maybe.”

The rest of the ride was completed in silence, not only fueled by your discomfort but now also Astarion’s irritation with you. 

Your driver gave a knock on the door as the sun disappeared, just as you’d instructed him to, and you opened it to find a quaint little inn surrounded by woods in front of you. 

He left to take care of the horses and you led Astarion inside, securing two rooms for the three of you. In a perfect world you would’ve gotten Astarion his own room, but his vampirism wasn’t exactly subtle and you couldn’t help but worry that some overzealous patron of this establishment might take it upon themself to rid the inn of the supposed monster. 

You led him up to the room you’d be sharing and as you entered, he stood in the doorway and took in the sight. 

You were quick to give him a quiet, “Come in,” but he brushed you off.

“That’s for houses, not individual rooms. I just…there’s two beds.”

You nodded. “Yup. For two people.”

He eyed you suspiciously, as if the two beds might be part of some devious scheme. After a few moments, he seemed to decide it was just a normal room and took the bed nearest the door. 

He seemed paler than he’d been the night before and a horrible thought struck you. “Oh my god, you need to eat! I haven’t been feeding you.”

He chuckled. “Good luck with that, there aren’t many disposable animals out here. At least, not ones you could catch. Unless you want to let me at the horses, but that would leave us in quite the predicament.”

“I mean, you could drink from me. Not everything, obviously, but I could spare some.”

You held out your hand to him, presenting your wrist and looking at him expectantly.

“I’m not allowed to drink human blood,” he spat back at you, the bile of hundreds of years of resentment lacing his words. “Cazador doesn’t allow it.”

“You’re not his anymore. He gave control over to me and I say you can do whatever you’d like and that you don’t take orders from anyone anymore. The offer stands.” You went to withdraw your hand until his hunger bested his hesitation but he grabbed your wrist, stopping you from pulling away. 

“Well,” he said with a sly smile. “As long as you’re offering, I would be a fool to turn you down.”

It was so strange how quickly it happened, how easily he could slip right back into that faux confidence. 

He leaned towards you and you backed away at the hungry look in his eyes, one you were more than familiar with. 

“If you really want to I’m sure there’s ways we could make this a more rewarding experience for you,” he said and in a heartbeat he maneuvered himself over you, his hands interlaced with yours and holding you to the mattress. 

You pulled yourself back in an instant, leaning against the headboard as you presented your wrist to him once more. 

You didn’t fault him for it. After years of surviving with it, of course he would keep trying to draw you in with his sexuality. The instinct couldn’t be snuffed out overnight.

You’d bat away his attempts as many times you needed to, try and make him understand. You weren’t sure if it would ever work, not fully, but you’d keep trying. 

“It’s easier this way,” you said in explanation, giving him something to latch onto that didn’t feel like rejection. 

He rolled his eyes. “Easier, I’m sure. Typical, I got a master who’s allergic to fun.”

“I’m not your master. You can do as you please, could leave now if you wanted.”

“And go where?” he snapped. “You can pretend if you must but I know what I am. I know where I stand. I am a lot of things, but I am no fool.”

“I know.”

He studied you for a moment, eyes daring across your face before he pulled your wrist towards him, digging his teeth into your flesh. 

The sharp pain lasted for a heartbeat before it faded away to a dull ache. He lapped at the open wound, his put-on demeanor disappearing as he got lost in it. 

He cradled your hand like it was a lifeline. In a way, you supposed it was. 

You could feel yourself getting lightheaded as he fed but you refused to stop him. You would not command it of him, would rather die than force him into it. You let out a quiet whine, your form slumping back into the bed. 

He drew away immediately and your blood began pouring onto the white sheets of the bed. 

A moment of panic reflected in his red eyes before he grabbed the corner of the sheets, wrapping them around your wound. 

“There,” he said, his voice quieter than his normal bravado. “Should keep you from bleeding out.”

Your eyes were locked on his collarbone, a dark bruise becoming visible as your blood fled through his previously starved body. The longer you looked, the more of them you could see, peeking out from under his clothes. 

“Oh, you poor thing,” you said in hushed tones, hands moving to reach for him before stopping in their tracks, unsure if your touch would be wanted. 

He was otherwise preoccupied, his eyes alight with something entirely new. He looked stronger, livelier. There was a warmth to his cheeks you’d never seen before. 

You resisted the urge to touch him, to see if he’d become warmer as your blood had begun to run through him, bringing a new light to his eyes. 

“You should get some rest,” he said, looking down at you lying exhausted and drained on the bed. “You certainly need it.”

You barely had time to laugh at his comment before you’d drifted off. 

The ride back was as quiet as it had been the day before, if a little less uncomfortable. Astarion still stared for much of it but he at least pretended to read his book. The healthy flush to his cheeks seemed to come with a bit of newfound comfort and ease around you that made you puff up with pride, even if you still felt a little woozy from the night before. 

“Here we are!” you said as a knock sounded on the door, opening it and leading him inside your home. It was an old manor of your family's, not particularly big, right on the edge of nowhere, and perhaps falling apart just a little but more than suitable for your purposes. “It’s a little bit of a mess but I kind of like it that way. Come on, I’ll show you your room.”

You decided to put him in a room that was just a few doors down from your own, pointing out just where he could go to find you if he needed anything. 

You laid down to sleep once you got him situated, more exhausted than you typically were at this time of night. Despite how tired you were, presumably from the blood loss, you had to fight the urge to go and check on Astarion just one more time. 

You hadn’t known him for long but you’d already developed an intensely protective instinct towards the man. 

You did your best to put him out of your mind when a knock sounded at the door. 

“Come in,” you called out. You made no attempt to suppress your smile when he peeked in the doorway. 

“I think I’ve grown accustomed to your company,” he said sheepishly, and for once it didn’t seem like he was trying to seduce you. He seemed worn down, looking just as tired as you felt, a defeated air present on his face. 

You were too tired for subtlety, opening your arm to him and muttering a sleepy, “Just come here.”

He seemed grateful to not have to explain himself. To not have to ask. 

He sat on the bed, looking down at you where you lay. 

“No pillow this time?” he asked in that snide voice he used so often. 

“I can if you want. Just thought you might appreciate the closeness.”

He rolled his eyes dramatically. “Fine, I’ll be your little pillow to hug. Fair warning though, I run cold.”

You tried and failed to suppress a yawn as he got into bed beside you and you wrapped your arms softly around him. “I don’t mind. G’night.”

“Goodnight, my dear.”

Just like that, it became a bit of unspoken habit between the two of you. You felt it might honestly kill him to comment on it, to ask you for affection. But with no words, no pleasantries, there he was every night, beside you. 

One night, about a week into his residence in your home, he seemed more restless than normal, fiddling endlessly with your hand, incapable of sitting still. You turned to him with a pointed look. “Come on, out with it, it’s not good to go to bed with things left unsaid.”

He scoffed. “Why not?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know, what if I die in my sleep or something.”

“If you die in your sleep, I think I might have bigger problems than things I didn’t say to you. Namely, some monster hunters who might take issue with the vampire you died next to.”

You shook your head. “No, I already told them about you, they wouldn’t hurt you.”

That seemed to take him by surprise, pulling back a bit at your words. “You did?”

“Of course I did. Now come on, out with it, what’s going on it that head of yours?”

He sighed dramatically and flopped back on his pillow. “It’s really nothing.”

“Not if it's bothering you. I want to help.”

“Did you mean it?” he blurted out, like the words had to be forced out of him quickly or they wouldn’t come out at all. “When you said you wanted to save the rest of them too?”

“Of course I did. And I will. At least if I have anything to say about it,” you said quietly, your stomach turning at the thought of the other spawn you’d left behind.

He turned from you as if you’d slapped him. “Right. I’m going to sleep in my own room. I should’ve been in there anyway, this was silly. Goodnight, darling.”

You chased after him in a heartbeat, catching up at him before he’d even managed to open his door. “Wait, what did I do? Astarion?”

He was an unstoppable force, storming into his own room. 

“I don’t understand what I did,” you pleaded with him, desperate to fix it. You raked through your conversation, trying to dissect every word spoken, every facial expression. You found nothing. Shouldn’t he be happy you wanted to help them? It didn’t make sense to you. 

He sat on his bed, one he’d never slept in, arms crossed and brows furrowed. When he spoke, there was a faux casualty to it, like he was trying to pretend none of it mattered to him. “I’m just making room for the next stray you let into your bed.”

You sat next to him, careful to keep your distance as you moved your head down to try and catch his eye. “You know I’m not replacing you, right?”

He huffed in response, turning away from you again. 

You made sure to keep your tone gentle and soft. “You know I wouldn’t let just any vampire spawn sleep next to me, right? It’s because I care about you, it’s not just because you’re there. No one is replacing you and I promise there is enough of me to help people while also still being there for you. I will save as many of them as I can until I can rid this world of Cazador but you’re not just Cazador’s victim, you’re my friend.”

He turned to you suddenly. “Stop saying that. Stop saying you’re going to hunt down Cazador. If he catches wind of any of this you’re dead. At least, if you’re lucky you’ll be dead. And then where will I be?”

“Hey, I’ve been doing this a long time. I know what I’m doing, we all know what we’re doing. He’s not going to get me.”

“That’s why you made that deal, is it? Did all the other hunters he slaughtered know what they were doing too? You aren’t a threat to him, you are a nuisance. You need to stop,” he snarled. 

You couldn’t stop. You both knew that, could see it as clear as day. 

Instead, you just said a quiet, “Come on, come to bed,” and walked out of the room. 

He trailed behind you, the unendable argument weighing heavy on the both of you, no more words spoken as he slipped under the sheets. You gave his hand a squeeze, trying your best to reassure him despite knowing it would never work. Not as long as he was still out there. 

And then, as he leaned into your space, head brushing against your arm, something he’d been getting slowly more comfortable doing, something occurred to you that should have many days ago, back when he’d first arrived here. It was strange that he was here, now. Not just because of his uncomfortability with any sort of nonsexual closeness, but because of when it was. 

Not only did elves not sleep the same way nor as long as humans did, but vampires slept during the day typically, to enjoy the night as best they could. 

“I’m going to start sleeping during the day,” you said decisively. “That way we can keep doing this,” you said as you gestured around vaguely, “and you can go out, can do things with your waking hours. I’m sorry it didn’t occur to me sooner.”

His eyes widened. “You’d really let me leave?”

His surprise felt like a shard of ice through your chest. “Of course I would. You can do whatever you want. I’ll even do my best to help if you’ll ask me for it.” Another horrible thought struck you. “Wait, you didn’t think you could leave and you’ve been with me most nights. What have you been eating?”

“Whatever I could find. I make for wonderful pest control.”

Your heart sank. You should’ve considered this sooner, never put him through any of this. 

“Here, drink from me,” you said, sticking out your hand. “I can get some bigger animals for you, keep them here so you don’t have to hunt for them if you’d prefer, but for now I will have to do.”

He hesitated, although his gaze was less suspicious than the last time you’d done this. Instead, he looked nervous. “You’ve… you’ve already done so much for me. I shouldn’t.”

“Astarion, you’re starving,” you said quietly, trying to reason with him. 

“I’d rather not push it. Eventually, even your charity will run out.”

You shook your head. “It will not. It’s fine if you don’t believe me, I know it’ll take time, but I will keep being here for you until it sinks in. Promise.”

He laughed quietly, seeming more for himself than for you, something that had been happening more and more lately. “You underestimate my distrust, I think I could outlast you.”

You smiled back. “Challenge accepted. But until then, you need to eat.”

You held out your wrist for him, the marks from the last time just beginning to fade. He took it, gingerly, bringing it slowly to his mouth and watching your face for any apprehension. 

You showed none, instead giving him a soft smile. “Go on. I don’t bite.”

That got a real laugh out of him. “That’s not funny.”

He pressed a soft kiss into your skin before sinking his fangs in, that sharp pain coming with a flutter of warmth inside your chest. 

He was slower this time, more intentional as he drank. You couldn’t help but wonder if it was because he wasn’t as hungry or if it was because it felt less like his meal might be ripped away from him unceremoniously. 

He didn’t get as lost in it this time, eyes flicking up to meet yours, checking in on you. 

You didn’t even get the chance to try and tell him you were feeling woozy before he drew back, pulling a handkerchief you hadn’t even noticed off the side table to wrap around your wrist. 

“Wouldn’t want to get our sheets all bloody,” he said as he knotted it tight around your wound. 

Your hands moved slowly as soon as he released them, reaching up towards his face and giving him plenty of time to back away. 

For a moment, when he first saw you reaching for him, he pulled back and you were ready to retreat and shower him in endless apologies when, as suddenly as he’d moved away, he leaned into your touch. 

Gentle hands cradled his face, ones he’d flinched away from but a moment before. He leaned into them openly now, unabashedly, making a home between your palms. 

He was warmer like this, with your blood rushing through him. 

You pulled him closer as his head tucked right under yours, your fingers carding gently through his hair. 

“I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered, barely loud enough to reach his ears, and you had no idea if he believed you. 

You doubted it, doubted that you’d been able to break through all those years of his living hell so quickly. His walls had been carefully constructed for a reason, and you understood why he was so hesitant to break them down. You couldn’t blame him, would never blame him. 

It didn’t really matter. You’d keep trying either way.

[i-think-i-have-too-many-fandoms]

(Dilf!Deku x Nanny!Reader is what I think is what this is)

Description ~ Single dad #1 pro Deku’s daughter wakes up and starts crying for “mama”

“MAMA!” Izuku shoots out of bed at the sound of his daughter screaming. He sprints down the hallway of his large apartment to his daughter’s room. He turns on the light to find his daughter with tear stained cheeks reaching out for him. He sits on the edge of her bed and wrapped her in his arms. “What was it babygirl?” Izuku asks his 5 year old daughter. “Nightmare, about you and mama.” That caught him off guard, his daughter had never really had a “mother” she was dropped on Izukus doorstep with a paternity test saying she was his. “What do you mean baby?” He gives her a confused smile. “Mama? Where is she. I wanna see her too, where is mama?” Izukus daughter looks up at him with big ol puppy dog eyes that would make anyone certain she was his. “Who are you talking about bubs?” “Mama! She’s around all the time! Don’t pretend daddy.” Looking into her confused eyes and that’s when it clicked, she was talking about her nanny.

“Are you talking about Y/n? She’s not your mama, baby.” The little girl in his arms makes an ‘oh’ sound and cuddles deeper into him, he knows she's just to tired to argue and frankly he is too. Instead of risking another nightmare leaving her in her own bed he picks up his little girl and goes back to his bedroom. Izuku finds himself unable to sleep, instead thinking about you. In the last few months you’re all that’s been taking up his headspace. Thinking about how good you are with his daughter, and he wishes he could tell you but he couldn’t do that. It’s bad enough how much it aches him to be away from his daughter as much as he is but he refuses to put a partner through that. So he keeps his thoughts to himself, but will continue letting his daughter think you are her mother. The next day when you came by before he left he had told you that his daughter was in his room, and that she’d had a nightmare and to keep an eye on her during nap time and if anything changes to keep him updated. The usual stuff- except when he was saying goodbye and he grabbed the back of your head and kissed your forehead before heading out the door. You froze in your spot and started overthinking, of course you found him attractive but it was more than just his physical appearance, you’ve seemingly fallen for him because of the way he acts towards everyone that works for him, the way he is always there to kiss his daughter goodnight even if he has to go right back to work after, its the way he is exactly what people think he is but so much more. Now, switch to the other side of the door Pro hero Deku was panicking, when he got home tonight you would probably tell him you quit, or you’ll give him some kind of “HR paperwork”.

He shouldn’t have done it, he knows that but it felt so natural as if he’d done it every morning, like it was routine. But he hadn’t, it wasn't, he’d never done it, he’s thought of doing it. Thought about what he’d do if he would actually married you and got to do that every day- but that wasn’t your guys’ dynamic, your dynamic was that he’d tell you what was new with his kid then leave, and you’d message him interesting stuff that happened throughout the day, and when he’d get home you’d be watching something on tv and he’d sit beside you and tell what happened that day and then you would politely say goodbye to him, but this? This is too- too domestic for you two. But before he can retract and go back inside to explain he gets a message from work telling him there’s an emergency. So he has no choice but to go about his day, expecting a text from you about anything, so that maybe he’ll stop overthinking and panicking but you don’t.

And back at the apartment you were hanging out with his daughter and there has been so many things you’ve wanted to send him but you didn’t want it to be weird. So you went through your day, overthinking just as much as he did because, what was that this morning? Did he mean to do it? Did he think it was someone else and he mixed up because of how tired he was from his daughter waking up in the middle of the night? Oh god… of course, he probably thought it was someone else. You went about your day trying to put your best fake smile on for the darling little girl and at times you’d forgotten but then it come rushing back justas quickly as it had left. At some point Izuku had called a friend who had the day off to go relieve you of your duties for the day, but that only made your despair and overanalyzing worse. You had spent half the night confused and worried and mind wandering, until eventually you gave in, put on the closest pair of pajama pants you could and drove yourself to his apartment. You knocked quietly a few times and while waiting you were questioning what you were doing here but then he opened the door of his apartment and you knew.

You know what to say and why you’re here, “what was that?” You almost cringe at the question. “What?” Oh no, he’s confused, he doesn’t know what you’re talking about this was a mistake. And you abruptly say that you’re sorry for bothering and turning around but he grabs your wrist turning you to him. “I don’t actually know what it was” “So it was a mistake?” Damn, that hurt. “No, definitely not, I- would you like to come inside to talk? It’s cold out.” You follow behind and sit beside him on his couch facing him, knees close to touching. “Believe me, I, very much, like you, and if I was normal, living a normal life I would ask you out on a date in a heartbeat. But I will not do that to you, and I am sorry for what happened yesterday morning, if you choose to continue working for me then I can arrange that we will not be in the same area at the same times-“ “I’m not fired?” You interrupt him, severely confused.

He then looks back at you mirroring your expression, "w- why would you be fired? I'm the one who did it, if anything i thought you'd have smacked me with HR "sexual harrasment' papers when i got back but you didn't." You cut him off again because this whole misunderstanding was starting to make your head hurt, "Why would you be in trouble? You sent me home early, i thought you were firing me." You place your head in your hands. Izuku wants so badly to rub your back in comfort but is understandably apprehensive of making the situation weirder. You pause with your head in your in your hands. 'How could you have just glossed over what he'd said?' You lift your head to look him in his beautiful emerald eyes, "You, like me?" You tilt a eyebrow at him. His face turns a bright shade of red as he answers, "i- w-well not- no- but-" He becomes frantic with his wording and as your looking at him avoiding your eyes you take a chance. You reach for his face and pull it to your own so your faces are inches apart. You leave space for him to close in case youve read the signals wrong. Waiting for what seems like forever (it was a few seconds), Izuku places his hands at your waist and presses his lips to yours. Both of your movements are slow and intimate as you press together fluidly. Before it goes too far you both pull away breathlessly admiring one another. "Izuku...would you like to go on a date?" You speak softly still doubting what had just happened. Hesitating to answer he looks at you earnestly, "I don't want my schedule to hurt the people i love."

"I know, and I'm probably one of the only people who will actually understand enough for this to last with us. I know your schedule and i know you. I know that if anything happens it isn't your fault." You keep eye contact with him as you speak. "If this doesn't work out i would never hold it against you." He scrutinizes your face for any hesitancy, and when he doesn't find any he answers your question, "How's Sunday?"

[taeyongdoyoung]

mind games

summary: taken away by your ex and best friend, you try to do everything in your power to survive another day... characters: reader, sunoo, sunghoon and heeseung (only mentioned in this part) genre: thriller, dark romance(-ish) warnings: kidnapping, reader is tied up (in a non-sexy way), mentions of fake blood, stalking, spitting, handwriting forgery, hidden cameras, invasion of privacy, blade, overall toxic behaviour, kissing, manipulation, biting, tracking device, trauma author's note: hii guys, the title is inspired by this iconic song and to be honest, i had a really hard time writing it due to some bad experiences in the past so if any of this is triggering to you, please proceed with caution! 🤍 part one & part three word count: 2.6k

You wake up in a unfamiliar place. You feel that your hands and feet and are tied up to a chair. Your surroundings are damp, near black and you can barely make out anything. You wonder if you are alone or if one of your kidnappers is somewhere out there, lurking in the dark.

How on earth did you end up here? You thought you were generally a good person. True, you started dating the guy you told your ex "not to worry about" three months after the break-up but it’s not like you cheated. Then again, bad things had the tendency of happening to good people. So maybe it’s not your fault you’re here. You’re right. It’s Sunghoon and Sunoo’s fault!

Sunghoon, you can understand. He’d always been a jealous, possessive little freak. But Sunoo? To pretend he’s your best friend and work with Sunghoon behind your back? Damnit, you should have investigated suspect number two more seriously before trusting him too much. That part is completely your fault, you admit to yourself.

"You awake?" you hear Sunoo’s adorable voice, which does little to ease your panic.

"Gee, I had a crazy nightmare, Sunnie. Dreamt that my best friend kidnapped me along with my ex. Isn’t that a good story?" you respond sarcastically.

"Listen, it would have been much easier if you came with us willingly," Sunoo pats your cheek gently.

"Willingly? How insane are you, actually?"

"Come oooon, me and Sunghoon-hyung can treat you so much better than Heeseung."

You shake your head in disbelief.

"Just tell me one thing. Were you behind the stalking as well?"

"Which part? Sunghoon took the photos of you and stole some of your clothes. But the creepy dolls covered in blood was all me."

First of all, ew. Second of all, WHAT THE FUCK?

"Where did you get the blood from?" you finally dare to ask.

"It’s fake blood, silly. It looks so real, right?" Sunoo cackles maniacally.

"You need help. Like serious, professional help, Sunoo. I’m only saying that because despite everything I still care about you. If you get me out of here, I’ll make sure you receive the proper treatment you need and-"

"Get you out?" he laughs again. "Why would I do that? We can be such a lovely family of three. Trust me, you’ll never want to leave."

You already want to leave.

Hours later, Sunghoon appears and Sunoo leaves. You suppose kidnappers still have jobs to go to whenever they’re not spending time with their victims. God, this is so wrong.

"How have you been, princess?" Sunghoon asks.

You don’t reward him with an answer and spit in his face. Very dumb of you but oh well.

Sunghoon wipes the spit with his gloved hand and squats in front of you.

"Not a very enthusiastic welcome, I see. Don’t worry, I’ll be patient. You’ll get used to us in no time."

"I’m not getting used to anything. Let me the fuck go!"

"Hmm, I don’t think so," Sunghoon wraps his arms around your legs like a fucking snake. He may not have bitten you but you feel his poison spreading further down your body. What if you’re meant to suffocate here?

"It’s only a matter of time before Heeseung calls the cops and they find me," you bluff. You can only hope Heeseung will come for you.

"He probably won’t. See, I wrote him a little letter. You remember how good I am at copying your handwriting? Well, I never thought it’d come in…well, pun-intended but handy. In the letter I tell Heeseung that you’re still in love with me so you’re leaving him and ran away with me. I’m so creative, aren’t I?"

"You’re sick in the head! Heeseung’s never gonna buy that!" you scream and you pray you’re right.

"Wanna check? I put hidden cameras at your place, if Heeseung was there, we can see his reaction."

God, this is worse than you thought. You really should have contacted the police earlier. Helpful or not, it would have been something.

And indeed, Sunghoon shows you a video of Heeseung opening said letter, reading it and then sighing deeply. Alas, he doesn't look in a huge hurry to find you. Or maybe, he's just that good of an actor...

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask Sunghoon, horrified now that your hope of Heeseung finding you diminishes by the hour.

"Nothing," Sunghoon replies simply. "I just wanna be with you. Away from him." The him in question is Heeseung, you deduce. "Forever."

The word forever never tasted so bitter.

"What about Sunoo? Why is he helping you?"

"I think he has a little crush on me. So I'm using him," Sunghoon shrugs, as if it's the simplest answer in the world.

First of all, a little crush is definitely an understatement. No one helps his best friend's ex kidnap his best friend over a little crush. Sunoo's feelings are reaching a dangerous magnitude. You don't dare imagine how far he'd be willing to go for Sunghoon's sake. And second of all, the fact that Sunghoon's using Sunoo and doesn't reciprocate his feelings might be helpful for you in the future. So, you tuck that information safely into your mind for later.

But until then, you gotta play the game well enough in order to survive. You never know when Sunghoon or Sunoo might snap and feel like killing you. Psychopaths like that are totally unpredictable. So, you make it your mission to smoothly pretend you have zero plans of escaping.

"Poor Sunoo," you sigh, targeting Sunghoon's jealousy issues. "And here I thought he had a crush on me and wants to share me with you."

"As beautiful as you are, not everyone on this plaent is madly in love with you, princess," Sunghoon laughs, suddenly amused by your words. "And if it's anyone doing the sharing, it'd be me. But I don't share."

He smirks darkly and kisses you. His lips are venomous poison. You kiss him back even though every bone in your body is telling you no. But after being so foolish before, you have to be clever enough now. Clever enough to trick him. Clever enough to live.

Sunghoon wraps his hands around the back of your neck, kissing you more deeply. Your tongue battles against his desperately, trying to convey every bit of your hatred and make him mistake it for love. He's laughing against your lips. But you're determined to make sure you have the last laugh.

"See? That wasn't so bad, was it?" Sunghoon chuckles in disbelief you kissed him back.

Yes! Y/N: 1. Sunghoon: 0.

"You taste just as I remember. Coffee."

"Your favourite taste," Sunghoon nods thoughtfully.

You don't dare tell him that lately, you like ramen more...

"You should be nice to Sunoo," you advise Sunghoon, even though it won't help you. Not immediately, anyway. "You never know when he might turn against you."

"He won't. But I'm nice enough. Or else he wouldn't have helped me in the first place."

"When did you two become so close anyway?"

"Right after you broke up with me. He would constantly call me and meet up in secret. He'd keep me posted on how you were doing. Show me pictures and stuff. He said that just because you and I were no longer together didn't mean that he couldn't be friends with me."

That sly little fox. And here you were, mistaking Sunoo for your best friend. Then again, you are no saint, either, considering you moved on with Heeseung so quickly. But after the way Sunghoon had treated you, it was only natural you were drawn by Heeseung's warmth.

"Interesting. How does he put up with your mint choco-hating ass?" you tease Sunghoon.

"He's strangely forgiving in that respect," Sunghoon responds.

You smile fondly, recalling all your mint choco dates with your best friend. You will never forgive him.

A while later, Sunoo returns, immediately brightening up the room with his presence. But now you know it's all a façade. The real him is not the sun, but the darkest sky.

"Heyyy, hyung, missed me?" he greets Sunghoon.

"So much, sunshine," Sunghoon ruffles Sunoo's hair, the action so smooth and affectionate it gives you goosebumps. You aspire to be such a talented actress.

"Did noona give you trouble?" Sunoo asks teasingly.

"Not really, she's quite docile now," Sunghoon shrugs, not suspecting anything.

"I'm right here, you know?" you roll your eyes.

"Aww, Y/Nnie, don't be jealous, it's not a good quality," Sunoo messes with you.

Pfft. If there's anyone guilty of jealousy in this room, it's definitely not you.

"As much as I hate to leave you two angels all alone, I have business to attend to," Sunghoon announces. "Take care of her, yeah?"

"Will do!" Sunoo promises excitedly.

Once alone with Sunoo, you set your sinister plan in motion.

"Sunnie, you do realize Sunghoon's only using you, right? He told me so himself. He'll never love you. He's incapable of loving anyone but himself."

"Why would I believe you?" Sunoo snickers. "You'd say anything to get me to untie you."

"Screw that, you know I like things like that," you joke. Though you prefer things like that in a safe, consensual environment, it doesn't hurt to try misleading Sunoo.

"Ha-ha, very funny," Sunoo squeezes your cheeks affectionately.

You sigh deeply. Okay, you're gonna have to try harder.

"Haven't you asked yourself why Sunghoon's always wearing gloves? So he can leave no fingerprints! Meanwhile, you're spreading your DNA all over the crime scene."

"This isn't a crime scene, we're just making a home for ourselves!" Sunoo shouts in denial. "And...h-hyung likes gloves, they're a fashion statement. They look hot on him!"

"When the police finds us, Sunghoon won't be here and he'll make you take the fall for it," you hypothesize

"What do you mean when?" Sunoo is starting to panic a little now. "They won't find us. No one knows where we are. Right?"

You smile sinisterly.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

A while later, Sunoo leaves again and you remain alone with Sunghoon. Your worst nightmare.

"Hi, princess," he kisses you, as if what you two have is completely normal. As if it's okay. You kiss him back, as if you mean it. As if you love him back. "How have you been?"

"Oh, you know, splendid. My favourite place in the world," you chuckle bitterly.

"Ever the spoiled brat, I see. At least I'm giving you food and water, no?"

"Ah, yes, I'm living the dream," you keep responding sarcastically. But nothing too bad, you're still afraid he might snap. Also, you haven't mentioned Heeseung since you got here. You figured it would just be poking the bear or something. So, you play nice. Or as nice as you can be, given the circumstances.

"You know, this could be so much easier if you just cooperated. I could even untie you someday. We could go to Paris, I know how much you've wanted to go there. We could go back to the way we used to be. Just us two."

"What about Sunoo?"

"Well, he can tag along, I don't mind."

"What, like Bonnie and Clyde and their pet or some shit?" Except, you'd be the fucking pet 'cause you're no criminal.

"Yeah, that sounds nice, don't you think?"

It does sound nice. But you'll never agree to this. Even if Sunghoon was the last man on Earth, you still wouldn't go with him anywhere willingly. He lost not only your trust but your heart. And he's never getting it back. But you pretend anyways.

"Yeah, that sounds amazing," you lie through your teeth. "Maybe we'll get there one day."

"You can learn to love me again," Sunghoon says it not as a question but as a statement. And with such conviction it almost makes you sad. Almost.

"I can," you repeat the lie as if hypnotized. But he can't. Because this isn't love. It's obsession, dark and twisted, and you would do anything in your power to escape its deadly grasp.

Sunghoon kisses you and you bite his lips angrily in the process. He mistakes it for passion. Good. Let him be the fool. You've been playing that role yourself for too long. It's his turn now.

Hours melt into days. You know that the police requires at least 48 hours to start looking for a missing person so you try to be patient when waiting. But patience has a limit and Sunghoon is getting on your nerves more and more with every second. Sunoo, as well, with him pretending he's the sweetest bean ever but actually the devil in disguise. You just wish you could be found and rescued already. You desperately wish you could be back in the safety of Heeseung's arms. But you know it won't be that easy.

Throughout your stay here, you try your best to ensure you'll make it out alive. Sunghoon or Sunoo only untie to let you take care of your natural needs and don't take any chances so there is no opportunity for you to investigate where exactly you're located, let alone try to escape. But that's besides the point. You have a plan. And you just hope it doesn't go to shit.

"Just let me go, Sunoo, if you don't, you'll regret it, I promise you," you keep pleading with him gently.

"Why would I regret it?" Sunoo traces his blade alongside your neck. Damn, he's addicted to that thing.

"I can't tell you," you smile cruelly.

"If you don't tell me, I'll hurt you," he threatens you vaguely.

"You already did," mentally you mean. "But if you actually use that blade on me, Sunghoon won't be very happy with you. Do you want to make him angry?"

Sunoo shakes and takes a step back, dropping the blade. He's been creeping you out and yet, still...such a sweet child. God, you're conflicted.

On the fifth day, the miracle happens. Storming inside is a whole crew of cops, whom you previously distrusted (okay, lesson learned) and Heeseung comes along with them. You are quickly untied and a medic checks for any injuries (there aren't any physical ones, other than the mental trauma that comes with being kidnapped and stalked by your ex and former best friend).

How were you found so fast, one may ask? Well, you were slightly wary of Sunoo. Heeseung, you never doubted. So, the day before you waited awake for Sunghoon to arrive, you asked Heeseung to help you install a tracking device inside your skin. Your gut feeling was telling you that if something bad were to happen to you, your phone would be destroyed. A small chip, however, would be difficult to notice. The device got slightly damaged in the process of being kidnapped, so it was difficult for the police and Heeseung to catch a signal rightaway. Which is why it took five days. But still, you consider yourself somewhat lucky. Some people remain kidnapped for years...Others are never found.

Regrettably, Sunghoon is nowhere to be located. That bastard. They apprehend Sunoo quickly and he claims that he did it all by himself. Fucking idiot, why is he so loyal to Sunghoon? You insist that he worked together with your ex but the cops say that you might be so traumatized you're hallucinating another person. Why is that, you wonder? Oh, wait. 'Cause there are no fucking fingerprints of Sunghoon's, of course. Those stupid gloves of his may be the smartest thing he's ever done.

You know that you'll have to work harder to make sure Sunghoon is detained as soon as possible. You know that you'll somehow have to convince Sunoo to testify against Sunghoon. You know that your creepy ex won't give you up so easily. You know that you'll have to be smarter, more resilient and perhaps more careful who you trust.

Right now, your mind is your biggest weapon to play this sick game. But it doesn't end here. This is just the beginning.

To be continued...

[blackkatdraws2]

[Original Characters] One of the Tower Residents (who is usually very stoic) is acting strange. Did the Missiontakers trigger something? (-or is this an unscripted scene?)

[More Info under Read More.]

These two are fan-OCs for a webnovel titled [Being an Extra Actor in an Escape Game]

Quick premise for the novel: There was an apocalypse that trapped the whole world in a game-like tower. Missiontakers need to go into a Tower Resident's Nightmares and solve them in order to progress higher up the tower [and maybe escape.] What the Missiontakers didn't know was that the Tower Residents are actually also real people just like them, but they're more limited in what they're allowed to do because the tower forces them to become Actors and pretend like they're NPCs.

The older man is called Kim Seung-Jun.

He's a Tower Resident that's trapped on the higher levels of the tower.

He's never acted out any major roles for a Nightmare and is always in the background.

Even among the other Tower Residents, he's a hard man to talk to, only voicing a curt reply that doesn't leave any openings to continue the conversation.

The other man is called Nick Fuentes

He's a semi-well known Missiontaker that wants to climb all the way up the tower to find the escape.

He's usually the helper of the group and he's good at being flexible with adapting and making quick decisions in tough situations.

Gets attached to people quickly if they're nice to him.

Basic OCs premise: Nick Fuentes sees the usually stoic Kim Seung-Jun acting unlike his character. He starts to get more curious about the older man, and their slow development but eventual close relationship made him unravel a different point of view about truth of the Tower and everyone who was trapped in it.

-------------✦

KOREAN PEOPLE, please tell me in the reblogs and comments if I got the old man's name right!! I'll change it into something more appropriate for his character and age if it sounds silly. I'm a huge fan of Asian webnovels, the things I always consume are Chinese/Korean webnovels that I find in illegally English translated websites HAHAHA. It affected the way I named my characters because Chinese/Korean names are the only thing I'm constantly being exposed to. [But I have no idea if these names are actually correct or not. Sorry!]

Oh MAN, I have not re-visited this novel in YEARS. Literally one of my biggest worldbuilding inspirations [not to mention it has all my favorite tropes in it] and I will continue loving it forever.

I found the novel by pure chance. At the time, there was only one website that translated it into English. I thought the premise was interesting and decided to give it a try, thinking it was just another one of those garbage junk food novels that I'd drop half-way, but no, it was actually really good.

I'm not gonna spoil anything about the novel itself lololol I'm only gonna be working on my OCs.

To be honest, I'm probably gonna make an original world and story for them soon. I like this idea too much, I'll make it mine someday. For now though, I will have a minor hyperfixation.

Go check the novel out, by the way!! It's great.

[holylulusworld]

Every Breath you take (19)

Summary: There is a shadow following you. He doesn’t know what he got himself into.

Pairing: Stalker!Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Warnings: a man out of time, secret admirer trope, “crazy” reader, fluff, domestic life

A/N: You all made me do it! Here’s the series to this random idea: Stalker Bucky & Crazy Reader

Catch up here: Every breath you take (18)

Every Breath You Take Masterlist

“More salt,” you comment as Bucky stirs the sauce. You decided to start over, and the first thing you did was to cook together. “It tastes good but lacks salt.” Licking the spoon, you watch Bucky add more salt.

Since he came back, you tried to talk about the elephant in the room with him. Bucky must, once and for all, realize that he cannot treat you like a caged bird. You’re with him on free terms and don’t want to be treated like a prisoner.

“I didn’t know you could cook.” You try to ease your nerves and talk about anything but what’s on your mind. “It’s nice having a man who can cook.”

“Uh—I’m not much of a cook, but I can try to get better.” Bucky seems to be as nervous as you are. “For you.”

“Bucky,” you begin, but clamp your mouth shut. You sigh, shake your head, and try again. “Okay, we need to talk.”

“Doll, I already told you that I’m sorry." Bucky winces as you cross your arms over your chest. “You’re right. I shouldn’t have locked the cabinets. It was a mistake and won’t happen again.”

“There is a locked room. I assume it’s the basement,” you sniff. “Did you want to put me down there, and that’s why it’s locked?”

“What?” He drops the spoon in his hands. Bucky looks like you slapped him across the face. He winces and shakes his head. “No. I locked it because it’s dangerous. I didn’t want you to get hurt or hurt yourself.”

“What are you talking about?” You huff, frustrated. He’s hiding things from you again, pretending to keep you safe. Whenever you believe you’re making progress, you take ten steps back.

“If you want to, I’ll show you.” Bucky steps around the kitchen counter to touch your shoulder. “I never wanted you to see this side of me, but I don’t want to hide things from you.”

His hand slides down your arm to take your hand. Bucky guides you out of the kitchen and walks straight toward the locked door.

He unlocks the door with his thumb. The door slides aside, and the light automatically turns on. “I go there when the nightmares get worse,” he says, as he guides you down the staircase.

Down in the basement, there’s no furniture but an old mattress on the ground. You wrinkle your forehead as Bucky steps toward the wall.

He presses a button, and the wall suddenly moves aside, revealing a hidden room. On the walls hang weapons of all kinds. Guns, knives, blades, even something that looks like a rocket launcher.

“I hide it down here if we are ever in danger. You know about Hydra, and you know there’s always the possibility that one of them made it out alive.”

“Why the mattress?” You question. The mattress stands out like a sore thumb. It doesn’t belong down here, in weaponry.

“I told you, sometimes my nightmares are worse. I scream and, on very bad nights, I punch the walls or worse. If that happens, I go down here to not scare Alpine or hurt you.”

“Oh…OH!” You feel awful for thinking Bucky tried to hide things from you again. “I understand.”

“It’s for emergencies,” he hastily says as you glance at the weapons again. “I swear, we won’t need them.”

You nod and swallow thickly. Of course, you heard about Hydra and Bucky’s past. You just never thought the big bad guys could try to go after you.

“Better safe than sorry, right?” you stammer. All the guns make you nervous, but you know, Bucky is right. You can never be too careful. Other people get an extra door lock, and you’ve got a whole weaponry.

“Please don’t be scared,” Bucky says, gently touching your arm. “I know this is a lot.”

“Bucky,” you murmur his name and fake a smile. You’re still nervous because of all the weapons, but you don’t want to disappoint him. Bucky showed you his secret and openly talked about his nightmares. “Thank you for your honesty and trusting me.”

“I don’t want to hide things from you, Y/N. You were right. We cannot build this relationship on lies or secrets.”

“Good,” you say, and nod. “We should take care of dinner now. I bet Alpine is hungry too.”

You eat in silence while looking at Bucky. He seems less tense now that he has revealed this secret weaponry to you. Still, there is something you need to say.

“I don’t want you to sleep down there if the nightmares are bad,” you suddenly say. “If you need me, I’ll be there. We are a pair now, and I want to help you if you are sad or scared.”

“Doll, I can be scary when I wake from a nightmare.” He shakes his head. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t,” you state, and put the cutlery aside. You get up from your seat to cup Bucky’s face. “We’re in this crazy thing we got ourselves into together. No more excuses. It’s us against the world now.”

“Us against the world,” Bucky repeats your words. He watches you crawl in his lap and sighs. “You’re crazy, you know.”

“You too,” you giggle. “For choosing me.”

Part 20

Tags in reblog.

[igotanidea]

Voices: Jason Todd x reader

Dreaming was good.

Dreaming was nothing less of a perfect when she could feel his warm body next to her. The strong, protective embrace of his arms wrapped around her.

Or even if they got into a fight and were angry at each other - it was calming knowing that Jason was right beside, just a touch away. Even if he flinched and scoffed at the gentle move of her fingers on his back or shoulders. sooner or later he always relented and they worked through whatever shit was going on.

Together.

But dreaming was not always good.

Not when she woke up in the middle of the night, brutally torn from the very vivid and very real nightmare of Jason's dead, lifeless body in her arms. His blood on her hands and face. His empty, cold eyes. His emotionless face.

NO!!

The jolt was so sudden that even her cat, sleeping peacefully in the foot of the bed run away form her, leaving poor girl completly alone.

alone.

Going to bed alone. Every night.

Waking up alone. Every morning.

Deprived of his touch, his kisses, his love and affection.

Any affection.

And maybe she was acting like a whiny baby, but she needed him with her. Not out there. Not fighting crime lords or whatever villain might have shown his face at Gotham.

3 am....

Please come back home....

4 am,

5 am.....

Was he injured? Was he bleeding, hurt, scared? Maybe he took off running? Maybe he got back together with one of his exes? Artemis? Kori? Rose?

Maybe she wasn;t good enough for him? Maybe he realised he actually wanted some badass vigilante chick with toned muscles, sharp tongue, fiery attitude? Maybe he wanted someone hot?

She wasn't hot.

She was a wimp, shuddering in the cold, empy bed desperately craving her boyfriend presence. Be it bruised or in bad mood, but please --

Please come home.

I'll be better, I'll do better, I'll improve.

I'll be what you want me to be, just please don't leave me.

So far from what a modern woman should be, right? Codependent, fragile, weak, vulnerable, pathetic.

Or maybe just in love with a vigilante.

How did it happen that she got from worrying about him to questioning her whole lonely exsistence in 10 minutes?

He doesn;t want you.

You're ugly.

You're fat.

You're unnatractive.

You really thought he would stay with you? did you already imagine the real-life play-pretend with him? White dress? Picket white fence? Familiy?

You stupid little girl.

He doesn;t want you, he never wanted you, he won't ever want you.

"SHUT UP!!!" she cried out in frustration, tears rolling down her face as her demons started to prey on her like on a Goya painting "Shut up! shut up! shut up!" she shook violently.

"Are you talking to me now?" a familiar voice and the sound of discarded red helmet echoed in her head "Damn Y/N! If there's anything you learned during those years it's definitely developing a good hearing-- Baby?" Jason became alarmed the second he took in her state. "Baby? Y/N? What happened? WHO HURT YOU?!"

It was impossible for Jason to keep his cool when he saw her crying. The first thought popping into his head being someone did something to her. Someone caused this. And the fact that it was 5 a.m. and most people were sleeping and that there was no one but them in their apartment slipped his mind, clouded by the incoming wave of rage

"Give me the name baby.' he took a few step forwards, kneeling on the floor next to bed and cupping her chin forcing her eyes on him "tell me who did this to you."

"You did!" she sobbed

"I--" holy fuck! In his blinding fury and the sudden need for revenge he didn't realise she could be sheding those crocodlie tears because of him.

"Why are you leaving me?" she sobbed

"Why am I --?" Y/N was not making any sense right now "I'm not--"

"Liar!" the girl yelled with surprising strength given her fragile state "You think she's hot, don't you?"

"Who?"

"Your ex!"

"My ex? Y/N, princess, why don't you calm down and--"

"I AM COMPLETLY CALM!" now Jason was almost sure that the neighbours were already up, ready to impale them both on pitchforks and uncovering his secret identity.

"Ok, ok, baby..." he raised his hands in surrender, observing her every move and slightest change in face expression.

This was new. This was something he wasn;t entirely sure of how to proceed with. Out of all the opponents he had to fight never in his mind would he thought that his girlfiriend would be the most challenging.

Was this an attack of hysteria? A panic attack? An anxiety fit?

Jason was way too familiar with all that.

What if it was him? What would she do if he woke up in the middle of the night, jittery for no particular reason? What could possibly be helpful?

And then it dawned on him.

And it all happened at once.

Bed dipping, his weight on her, his hands on her body, his breath on her face and the all-encompasing smell of blood, gunpowder and cigatettes.

Soft caress of her hair.

Gentle peck on her nose.

Developing too fast to give her any time to object, not that she wanted to.

"I got you." he whispered pulling her closer to his chest, not caring about the bruise that was already forming on his right side and that cut on his forearm. She was more important now. "I got you, baby, I got you..." he kissd her forehead warming and calming her by the mass of muscles and bythe rapid but steady beating of his heart.

she was still shaking but the firm yet gentle grip on her refused to let go untill it all subsided. Steading her, anchoring her in reality. Helping her realise that whatever her traitorous mind suggested had nothing to do with actuallity. Even if it took days, weeks, years, Jason was not going to move, keeping her pinned to his chest until being full certain she was back to him, having her full attention.

"Do you think I'm ugly....?" she muttered causing him to laugh, the movement of his body causing vibrations.

"I think you should get some proper rest. Otherwise the next thing you're going to ask me is going to be that "if i was a worm..." question."

"Bbut if I was a worm would you--?"

"Hush, woman!" he cut her off with the cheesiest smile "I had a rough night and need to sleep. Which means you are stuck with me for as long as I please."

"are you--?"

"I said, hush woman." he tightened the hold on her, preventing her from squirming and moving too far. "you're my body pillow now, accept your fate."

"are you hurt?" she whispered

"I'm perfect." he whispered back, closing his eyes and drifting off to sleep.

Making all the hateful voices in her head shut up. Bringing in the silence and peace.

But the talk he was going to give her in the morning would be a capital letter one.

Ugly.

Huh. She had no idea what measures he was going to resort to proving her wrong...

[acciocriativity]

-> When they reject you…

… but it wasn't a confession (MATZ Version)

Genre: angst (I'm sorry)

Warnings/tags: angst; unrequited love (?); Seonghwa being a little asshole; heartbreak; just betrayal guys

WC: 1,4 k

N/A: Yes, this is inspired by that Colin scene in Bridgerton, to be honest I still not forgave him for that.

Please reblog my work if you enjoyed it, it helps to reach other people <3

WOOSAN version

Ateez Masterlist

Park Seonghwa (박성화)

You had no reason to be up right now. Actually if anything, you should’ve been sleeping for hours now to rest for the early morning ahead of you, yet somehow you were still waiting to make sure he was safe and sound.

You heard them from the hallway, a combination of the dead silence in the building and their loud voices. You heard only sounds that didn’t make any sense to you, but it made you get up in hurry.

This isn’t good, there was something wrong with Seonghwa, you knew it.

The apartment was small, there wasn’t stairs to go down or a long way to cross to reach the door. In a few steps after you left your room, Seonghwa’s and Yunho’s voices became clear to you.

“Shh, keep your voice down, are you trying to wake everyone up?”, Yunho whisper-screamed, but his tone was far from angry, there was a residue of laughter on his voice.

“No”, he almost whined as you heard the constant jiggles from Seonghwa’s chains bag, like he was struggling against Yunho. “I told you I don’t want to live with her anymore, take me to the dorms for the night”.

That took you by surprise, you didn’t know what to do with yourself.

Ever since you two became roommates two years ago, he never gave you any signs that he needs some time away from your company, which would be completely okay, but to hear him say that to his friend made you feel so humiliated. You tried so hard to be friendly, to make him and all of his friends at home and all he did was pretend to do the same, welcoming you into his life.

Was this how he talked about you behind your back? Did they all know he hated living with you?

You feel something burning, maybe it was the bit of love for him, you had or the tears you refused to cry over this.

“Hyung, com’on, it's not that bad, you need to sleep and think clearly about this”, Yunho tried his best for a while, you could tell this wasn’t the first or second time he said those words.

They got closer to the door, only then you realized you were spying on them. If you were embarrassed before, now you felt mortified, but somehow you couldn’t move an inch.

What exactly made him feel uncomfy at home, because you were completely in the dark about those feelings, whatever they were. Did he seem off those days? You can’t remember, he was as sweet to you as he’s always been. But the man on the other side of the door was done, he was huffing and puffing like an immature child because he didn’t want to be at your home. The Seonghwa you thought was a friend couldn’t be more different than the man you are listening to right now.

“She is that bad”.

You breathe in.

There’s no way, absolutely no way.

“You should just tell her, y’ know”, Yunho said in that soft tone you hear more than once directed at you.

“I did”, Seonghwa raised his voice and that startles you. “She just doesn’t get the hint, I gave her too many signs to move on already”.

You don’t hear whatever answer Yunho gave him nor the sequential sounds of each number of the door code. You could only hear all the deep conversations you had together, where he told you he would be there for you anytime you needed, that he’d give a shoulder when you needed one. He was the one that made you open up to him and for what?

The door opened wide

They stood there like two idiots caught dirty-handed. Seonghwa couldn’t look at you in the eyes, a fucking coward he truly was. He was just like the others in your life, your worst nightmare became true.

There were tears pooling in your eyes as you closed more and more in your own head again, all of those months worth of improvement wasted.

Your mind screamed for you to move, to run out of there as fast as you could to as far as possible. But why should you? The voice in your head was bitter and angry. This was your apartment at first, even though you didn’t hesitate to call it ‘our’.

“Leave then, am I forcing you to live here with me? Did I even say I was interested in you? Get your shit by tomorrow night and get off my face.

You shut the door close on their faces.

Kim Hongjoong (김홍중)

The library wasn’t as empty as you wished it would be at 21:39, to study or do something near closing hours would be pointless for most, but you needed only more 79 words to finish your essay and your mama raised no bitch.

You watch the numbers change on your phone, exactly 20 minute from now you have to finish this. You’ve been here all evening, you can’t bring yourself to do it at home. No, you are going to finish this, get home, get a nice shower and re—

“I think you’re actually going insane, no offense though”.

You could recognize that voice anywhere. That fucker said he didn’t have time to study with you, again. Did he come to check on me? The thought crossed your head, but you shut it down just as fast, that wouldn’t make any sense, would it? He was ignoring you for a week now, no calls, no texts, nothing. Did he even know you were here? He would, if he saw the text you sent at noon.

You stared at your screen, the white was blurring your vision after so long. You took that as a sign to take a little 5-minute break.

Alright Hongjoong, this is your last chance to redeem yourself, this is the last time I’d bother to try.

You couldn’t see where he was from your seat, but his voice seemed to be coming from the sets of tables on the other side of the bookshelves. At the very least he deserved a little jump scare, he should have it coming as payback, so you don’t feel bad as you tiptoed to spy on where he was.

You moved a couple books to the side to see it better. He had his phone glued to his ear as he paced around. Distracted, as you needed, but the little mischievous demon on your shoulder disappeared as you paid close attention to his distressed disposition. There were few moments where you saw him so tense and stressed. Whatever the other person was saying, wasn’t good news.

“No, that’s… I see, but that makes it worse, no? I can’t tell her like this, hm…”

The lilac pencil case on top of the table distracted you from the big picture. The table was a mess from two people, the distinction was clear as day. Hongjoong wouldn’t be caught dead with anything other than black or red on his bag. It was clear it wasn’t his, so whose was?

The answer walked in with a concerned look on her face. Was that the ‘her’ in the conversation? He ended the call as soon as she got close. They stood near each other, too near for two people who just met.

“Are you sure she’s going to be okay?”, she leaned into him as if on instinct, a feeling you could relate to, he had something in him that attract people to him.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t know, I wish to keep a normal friendship with her someday”.

“It’s better to just call her, it’s been long enough for her to get over you”.

Is this ‘her’ me? You hoped not, whatever this was, you hated.

You felt sick to your stomach as they held hands, so you left Hongjoong alone, like he clearly wanted to. He wasn’t the type to open up to new people, she wasn’t new, and he never told you about it. There wasn’t secrets in your friendship, at least he said so, but there was a lot you don’t know, apparently.

If that’s you… if he was talking about you, did he just ignore you for almost two weeks because he thought you would get in the middle of his relationship?

You phone rang.

It was him, but you didn’t bother to answer, and he didn’t bother to try again. There’s nothing to salvage anymore.

Tag list: @h3arteyes4mingi

[dyns33]

Flufftober 2024 - 18 The Corinthian

If you asked the Corinthian if he liked his job, he would have a hard time answering.

Most of the time, he took great pleasure in being a nightmare. Most of the dreamers he visited were not good people. He was there to reflect their darkness, their monstrosities, their worst sides. Even if he was normally supposed to make them think and push them to be better, the Corinthian was mostly satisfied with seeing their terror.

But sometimes, he landed in the dreams of simpler, almost innocent people. Even if no one was completely innocent.

Again, he could find it amusing to scare these idiots who did not dare to live their lives fully, who respected the rules, taking no risks.

And then, there was Y/N. His exception.

If Morpheus had noticed that he had not done his duty well on several occasions on the nights he had to visit this particular human, he never said anything.

The first time, the Corinthian had wondered if there was a mistake. Why would such a pure girl need to dream of him ? Aside from making her cry and avoid sleep for several days, his intervention would bring nothing positive.

He couldn't explain why he didn't want that with her.

"Hello? " she had greeted him the first time she had seen him.

"Hello. Lost ?"

"I don't know. Where are we ? Do I know you ?"

"Not yet." he had purred, smiling.

"I feel like I know you. You seem nice."

Normally, the Corinthian would have found the remark stupid. Because he didn't seem nice, not at all, even when he took on an innocent face to approach his prey, who were simply too foolish to notice the dark aura that surrounded him.

But this time, with Y/N, he had frozen, losing his smile, thinking that he wouldn't mind being nice for once, being liked by someone, knowing her and becoming friends.

They had spent the night talking, until she woke up. It had been hard not to see her again for several months, even if time passed differently in the Dreaming.

The Corinthian couldn't even be sure that he would see her again one day. He could have visited her in secret, or escaped to go see her in the Waking world, without worrying about the trouble he might have.

It was a real joy for him to find her again. He thought he knew this feeling, every time he made a dreamer tremble with terror, but apparently he was wrong.

"Cori ! I'm so happy to see you !"

"Not as much as me, my angel."

Every moment spent with her was wonderful, he cherished them all, without realizing how important it was.

Because there came a time when it had been far too long since he had seen her for his liking. It could have been a good thing, that Y/N didn't have nightmares so often.

But when he visited Lucienne, pretending to look at the dreamers' books without any interest, he grimaced when he saw that Y/N's had an ending.

"An ending ? What does it mean, when a book has an ending ?"

"… You should go back to your post, Corinthian." the librarian sighed sadly.

"Answer me !"

"You know it very well, my nightmare. Don't yell at Lucienne because of the nature of things, she has nothing to do with it."

"… No."

While he couldn't blame Lucienne, or even Dream, Corinthian cursed his father Time, and his older sister, leaving the castle screaming. His master didn't stop him.

His eyes not allowing him to cry, the Corinthian simply sat near the place where he had been created. He then thought that if he was unmade, maybe Death would be kind enough to take his hand and take him to see Y/N.

Taking revenge on the other mortals, he waited for the moment when Morpheus would come. He didn't really want to be a nightmare anymore. He only wanted to be Cori.

[anxious-witch]

Part two of this analysis aka Edwin, Charles and asexuality and why I personally like hcing Charles under the ace umbrella rather than Edwin.

Previous part was about why I don't see Edwin as ace and this one is about why I can see Charles as being on ace/ace spectrum.

So, you might be thinking, what the hell is he talking about? Charles clearly flirts with Crystal from the start and is attracted to her!

And to that, I say, yes....and no. He flirts with her from the start, absolutely! I'd even say he likes her immediately and think she is pretty. But given we aren't in his head, we can't really know exactly what he thinks. His reaction certainly isn't as extreme as the one Edwin has to the Cat King, which clearly showed instant sexual attraction.

So, the way I see it, I think he likes Crystal and very quickly develops a crush on her. But those are romantic feelings, not sexual ones. And we all know how intense Charles' feelings are, especially when it comes to devoting himself to someone.

"He literally agrees about being a nice addition to her body count! And he seems to know ghosts and human can have sex!" Yeah. Which is why A) I hc him as demisexual aka only feeling sexual attraction when he already has feelings for someone and B) as an ace person myself, believe me when I say that researching sex as a concept by an ace person is not uncommon. It's interesting part of human experience, whenever you wish that for yourself or not.

But I digress. Back to my point and that is, when does Charles seem to kiss (and if you believe they slept together after that one scene)? When one or both of them are in need of comfort.

We know Charles is physically affectionate person in general, so while I understand the whole thing was muddled with him and Crystal, I do find it odd he never kissed her due to being excited, or relieved. It would be so very in character for him and yet??? We see them kiss, if I remember correctly, after Charles has his breakdown over not being able to stop anything or after the Devlin's house? I mixed up those two in my head but regardless-it's a form of comfort. You know how a lot of ace people who like sex describe why they like it? Because it makes them feel closer to their partner, because yes, the sex itself is enjoyable, but there is no need for it, no attraction to spur it on. But when you care about the person, you want to make them feel good and you want to feel closer to them.

So for Charles, who constantly craves positive validation, especially through touch? I feel like he'd be either sex positive ace or as I mentioned earlier, demisexual. He doesn't seem spurred by it by attraction.

Hell, after Crystal has a nightmare, what is his first instinct? To kiss her. Because he feels helpless with how to help her other than get her closer to him! But , no offense to Crystal, I find it a bit difficult to believe Charles looked at her in that moment, traumatized by the nightmare and thought "god you look so hot right now I have to kiss you".

And again, we see this repeated when Crystal is about to leave for London and she kisses him goodbye. They never kiss as a consequence of something happy. Which yes, can definitely be contributed to the general narrative of that relationship likely being there as more of a comfort but still.

When we talk about headcanon sphere, because I don't pretend like the writers planned on making Charles ace coded, I think it would make sense.

Also why he doesn't clock Edwin's meeting with the Cat King for what they are! He is suspicious, we could even say he is jealous, but up until Edwin doesn't bring up his feelings for Monty, Charles doesn't connect the two. Which I find odd. Charles doesn't seem surprised that Edwin is gay, so how did he not make a connection about the Cat King until that moment?

Unless he usually connects sex with romantic feelings! Of course, he knows other people sometimes don't but surely not Edwin? Surely Edwin would think like Charles and want to love someone before feeling any sort of attraction? Right? Right??

Wrong. You sir, give strong demi vibes.

No but in all seriousness, I feel like Charles being demi/ace doesn't have a lot of uncomfortable implications that Edwin does? And it doesn't play into the stereotypes either. Why not hc someone flirty and easygoing as ace for a change?

Not to mention that he can be flippant around sex because that's what's expected. We know Charles is not above putting up a front if it makes it easier for everyone around him. To feel accepted.

So he likes a girl. She is pretty and powerful and she alive. Of course he is attracted to her. It's natural. That's how attraction is meant to feel like. Right?

And especially with demi hc, I feel like that fits very well bc he is used to having to "convince" himself before he feels the attraction.

Another cool point I could see being raised is how, he thinks Edwin isn't interested in anyone for the longest time, so Charles in turn, fully turns out any possible romantic feelings for him. And in turn then, he never think he can be attracted to Edwin because he could be like oh! No romantic feelings? No attraction either. Cool!

But yeah. Again, just hcs in general, but if we are talking about making someone ace, I feel like Charles is a more logical than Edwin, personally

[arealphrooblem]

A Good Roommate Is Hard To Find Part 3

Synopsis: Ben has harbored a secret crush on his roommate for a long time, only to find out that said roommate is the newest villain on the scene during a robbery at his job

CW: blood mention, wound care

Part one here:

Ben’s job offered him a transfer  to another bank in the city but he declined. Despite jumping every time the automatic doors opened, he figured lightning wouldn’t strike twice and Adam’s team wouldn’t target this bank a second time.

The next couple of weeks were almost unbearable.

That next morning Adam returned Ben’s phone with all the nonchalance as if he just merely updated it. Ben snooped around a bit but couldn’t see anything new in his apps. Of course, he wasn’t a programmer like Adam was. God only knew what spy-ware Adam put on his phone and he had no hope of getting rid of it.

To Adam’s credit, he tried valiantly to act as if nothing happened.  He did dishes without complaint, always cleaned the bathroom to spotless perfection when it was his turn, sat in the living room with one of their favorite shows on or Mario Kart to tempt Ben into the living room.

But Ben did not know how to act. It wasn’t even that Adam had gotten himself involved with bad people who robbed banks and shot guns at innocent bank tellers like Ben. It was that Adam would threaten to kill him at a moment’s notice. That Adam felt comfortable and skilled with a knife at someone’s throat.

It felt like living with Jekyll and Hyde and he didn’t know when Other Adam, Knife Happy Adam, would leap out again. So Ben played the Normal Game for as long as he could stand it, which was approximately the length of dinner and maybe one youtube video before he disappeared back into his bedroom. Sometimes Adam would try to coax him out again with temptations such as running down the street for ice cream or renting a movie that just came to streaming, all things Ben would have loved to do Before and now which he declined.

Eventually Adam stopped asking. Eventually they both played the We Pretend We Don’t Have a Roommate Game. Adam disappeared from the living room, coming home late at night or sometimes into the next afternoon.

Ben avoided the news as much as possible because he didn’t want to know but he couldn’t help overhear what coworkers and customers talked about: bombed warehouses and robberies and a body or two in the streets.

Each time he heard something the guilt and fear of his secret burned up his throat like acid. It felt like it was stamped on his forehead, that anyone looking under the shaggy bangs he needed to trim would see it, spelled out to the world.

A month of this passed in slow agony. Ben missed the Before so much he dreamed about it, about the whole thing being some elaborate joke or nightmare and  he could return to a life where his biggest problem was hiding his stupid gay crush on his roommate.

A month passed and then Adam didn’t come home for two days. Ben paced the living room for two nights, gnawing his nails down to stubs and wondering if he should put in a missing person’s report or if that would just make the whole situation worse.

And then Adam stumbled in at 1 in the morning, covered in blood.

“Holy shit,” Ben yelped.

Adam looked like a zombie extra in a movie, shuffling on wounded leg, blood splattered down his neck. It’d almost be funny if it wasn’t so heart-sickeningly real.

“I’m   — I’m fine,” he mumbled, staggering to the shower.

Fine? Fine? Ben stood right in front of the shower door as the water ran, listening for the tell tale thump of a body falling. He didn’t hear that, but he did hear several pained grunts and hissed curses.   

Did he need the hospital? Would he even let Ben take him to the hospital? Oh god, what if he died in the apartment? How the fuck was Ben supposed to explain that? How was he supposed to live with himself, ignoring his best friend the last month of his life instead of trying to — to —

The water shut off and the door wrenched open, steam billowing around Adam wrapped in a towel. The blood was gone save for scrapes and cuts that still wept.

“We still have that first aid kit, right?” he asked.

Like he scraped his knee playing basketball at the park.

“Yeah,” Ben said faintly.  

“Cool.” He waited a moment and then cocked an eyebrow. “Are you . . .going to move? It fucking hurts to stand right now.”

That kick-started the panicked fog in his brain.

“Sorry! Shit. Okay. Just sit on the couch and I’ll get the — the —“

He didn’t bother finishing, zipping out to the kitchen, where he kept the kit stashed above the fridge. Thank God he kept it stocked, knowing how often he nicked himself cutting vegetables. Not that the stuff in here would help much if Adam needed stitches.

Adam leaned back on the couch, chest shuddering with his breathing, his mouth pinched in a tight, painful line. Ben perched himself on the edge of the coffee table and plucked out the pain killers first out of the kit. Adam dry swallowed them before Ben could offer water.

“Go to bed,” Adam said tersely. “You don’t need to see this.”

“Don’t be stupid,” said Ben. “You’re hurt really bad. Maybe we should go to the —“

“Don’t. Don’t you dare even suggest that.”

“What if you die?”

Adam snorted. “I’m not going to die. Just get me a warm wet washcloth and pass me the antibiotic cream.”

Happy to have something small and manageable to do, Ben immediately complied. He picked the softest, most worn out washcloth they had and soaked it in warm water. When he returned, Adam was already dabbing at a scrap on his knee with rubbing alcohol and hissing. He took the proffered washcloth with barely a glance at Ben, using it to rub away the excess blood that had started to leak from a gash on his side.

“What happened?” Ben asked.

“You don’t want to know. I just . . .wasn’t fast enough this time.”

“This time?”

Adam gave him a flat look, as if to say Quit asking, I’m not telling you shit.

“You don’t have to stay up, Ben. Really. I can take care of this. I’ve done it many times before.”

That’s not reassuring Ben thought. It was heartbreaking.

“I can help,” he said.

“I don’t want you to help.”

“Too bad.”

Feeling daring, he took a cotton ball and smeared the cream on it before dabbing it onto a scrape on the back of Adam’s forearm. To his surprise, Adam allowed it, propping his arm on his knee and watching been with those keen eyes.

This was not the time to pop a timid, curious boner but dear Jesus.

Whatever Adam had been doing the last several months had whittled his body away into a lean, muscular machine, so much of it on display dressed in just a towel. He had to lean in , smelling Adam’s body wash and the sharp scene of the alcohol, getting close enough to see the light constellation of scars on Adam’s chest and arms.

It all felt strangely intimate, the only light coming from the dim glow of the living room lamp. Their breathing the only sound in the room.

Once he was done with the arm, he taped gauze to it and wrapped it. Adam held perfectly still, his gaze a heavy weight that Ben could not hold. When Ben finished and started to pull (reluctantly) away, Adam’s hand darted out and gripped his wrist.

“I’m sorry,” he said.

Ben chanced a glance at Adam and flinched at the intensity he saw.  

 “Don’t,” he said, swallowing. He took the hope in his chest and crushed it. “You don’t even know what you’re sorry for. You just . . . want to manipulate me into liking you again.”

“I know what I did. It was wrong. You didn’t deserve it.”

“And yet you still did it. You didn’t even think first.”

“I was afraid.”

Now Ben gave him a flat stare of disbelief. “You? Afraid of me?”

The fucking audacity when Adam put a knife to his throat.

“You were never supposed to find out. I didn’t plan on it. I didn’t know how to react.”

“You have a plan for everything.”

“I never know what I’m doing when it comes to you,” Adam said softly.

Ben froze, his mind drawing  conclusions he didn’t dare to dwell on. “What does that mean?”

Adam went silent. The bright intensity of his emotions shuttered off in his eyes,  like a shade being drawn.  

“I was bluffing,” he said, voice calm and even. “I don’t need a knife to hurt you. But the threat should have been a last resort and I’m sorry. It was a knee jerk reaction and you didn’t deserve it. You’ve been nothing but a loyal friend and good roommate.”

Disappointment — stupid disappointment that came from a hope he should have never fostered, not even for a second — tugged down like a lead balloon in his chest.

“Good roommates are hard to find,” he added softly.

Adam’s mouth curled up in a wistful smile. “Exactly.”

Ben tried to pull his hand away again, but Adam didn’t let go.

“Ben,” he said softly, squeezing Ben’s wrist until he looked up. “It will never happen again, okay? You don’t need to walk on eggshells around me.”

“Okay,” Ben said, nodding.

Later that night, as he tumbled into bed sometime past two in the morning, he could hear Adam’s voice echoing in his head.

I don’t need a knife to hurt you

God, how true that was, in ways Adam would never know.

Taglist: @itsmyworld23

Part 4 Here

[tmblrcolouredpaper]

Hold my hand, I'm nervous.

Minho likes spending time with you and discovering new aspects of this friendship.

Friendship, Mutual Pining, Domestic Fluff, Nervousness, Comfort, Concert, Protectiveness, Holding Hands, Cold Weather, Clumsiness, Cooking together, Napping, Nightmare, First Sleepover, Platonic Cuddling

⚠️: Body Shaming (by stranger) indicated, Fear of Crowds indicated

wc: 3966

'Hold my hand, I'm nervous.'

He wasn't nervous, not at all, but you know, sometimes he was convinced that lying was completely okay as long as it didn't harm anyone. Besides, he was sure you knew when he was telling the truth and when he wasn't anyway. That's something he loved so much, the comfortability in the friendship with you that caused him to be able to goof off and bullshit around as much as he wanted to.

'You're on a chair not a mountain.', you stated and rolled your eyes in annoyance. The concert was about to start and the fact that you arrived too late to get good spots made you already regret going out this evening.

'Still.', Minho insisted and waved his hand in front of your face until you took it to make him stop.

'Man, that's gonna be one awesome show. I've always wanted to see them live, you know.', he smiled and looked over the mass of people, excitement shimmering in his eyes.

'I know.', you grumbled and remembered why you went out, why you were out in the cold surrounded by people, many drunk, some probably on other drugs, holding his hand even though it was completely unnecessary. Him playing his 'fear of heights'- card was so pretentious that you were almost amused by his preference of saying anything but directly what he wants. Involuntarily, you shook your head and couldn't keep yourself from smiling despite your bad mood. It was silly anyways, especially when Minho was right next to you having the time of his life. His happiness was simply contagious after some time.

Was he able to not look down at you and smile? No, not at all. Did he feel like an idiot, standing on a chair to see the stage, yet having his eyes only on you? Yes, for sure. But it didn't surprise him. He stepped down, tightened his grip on your hand while he did, because he was actually worried that he might lose balance for a second. Once he was stable on the ground, he pretended like he would actually fall and not even he would have expected your reaction of pulling him into your arms immediately.

'I was joking.', he clarified with an embarrassed blush that crept over his cheeks up to his ears. He was pushed away harshly, but your low mumbling, the only word he could comprehend was 'idiot', made him smirk.

'Aaaaw, you thought I was actually falling?', he teased and caressed your cheek, his fingers light and warm on your skin. 'Thank you for always being my saviour, babe.'

'Don't touch my face with your unwashed hands.', you grunted and pushed his arm away.

'So, I wash my hands and can touch you?', he asked, eyes widened in excitement.

'No. Never.', you answered monotonously and crossed your arms in front of you. 'Why did you come down? I thought you wanted to see the stage properly.'

'Want to stand next to you, but you can still hold my hand when you miss it.', he explained without looking at you.

When the concert started he was jumping and dancing, singing along the lyrics and laughed from happiness. The crowd was hyped and even you began to show that you were having fun, actually recognizing a few songs that Minho must have shown you before.

A man next to you kept glancing at you from time to time and you thought it was because you probably looked weird in some sense. You kept wondering if it was your hair or your outfit or your makeup. Every bit of your appearance could have been a reason for someone to express their dislike for it, but in the end no one cares about stuff like this, so you tried your best to ignore his temporary stares and convince yourself that he must have had reasons that weren't under your influence.

'This was awesome. Thank you for coming with me.', Minho laughed after the last song was performed and the band left the stage after several rounds of applause. He took your hand and secured you close to him when everyone became busy leaving the hall.

'Can't lose you.', he said and squeezed your hand, inaudibly assuring you that he was planning on keeping you safe with him.

Many people passed by including the man that kept paying attention to you before Minho decided to leave as well. He saw him, he hated him. Not that he knew him, but the way he kept looking at you and turning to his friend to laugh and joke immediately after scanning you, was enough for him to have an opinion. Minho needed to see him walking away.

'Soooooo, should I bring you home or are you up for chilling at mine?', Minho asked during the walk through the streets, enjoying the fresh air after the concert, his hand still holding yours while playfully swaying them back and forth between your bodies.

'Yours?', you asked happily and he responded, 'Mine?!', sounding just as bright and happy and started laughing.

The fresh air slowly became uncomfortable and Minho started to worry that he might catch a cold. You probably felt the same. Unaware of what he was doing, he pulled you closer to him and immediately heard your teeth clashing against eachother in a fast pace.

'You're an idiot for not bringing a jacket.', he announced and laid his arm around your shoulder.

'You brought me with you. Isn't your task to take care of me then?', you questioned and sneaked your arm around his waist, seeking his warmth, wishing you could just stop walking and push your face in the softness of his shirt.

'No? Since when do you rely on people?', he laughed, but secretly wished he would have been more considered. He would have brought a scarf, a jacket, a whole heater if he'd known you wanted that.

'I don't.', you clarified and took a step away from him, his arm falling off your shoulder.

'Well, I didn't bring a jacket either. That makes two idiots here, hm?, he smiled and pulled you back into his embrace, ignoring your protest.

The apartment complex was soon arrived and Minho held the door open, waiting for you to enter first. He gave you the keys to his apartment and nodded upwards. 'I have to get something from the basement, but go and make yourself comfortable already.'

He heard your steps on the stairs echoing from the empty walls and hurried downstairs to get a pile of his old clothes that he picked up from his parents' house a few days ago. He didn't have any use for them, but thought that you might like them.

When he arrived at his apartment door, he was surprised to find you still standing there, fondling with the keys. Your hands were red and stiff and you visibly struggled to pick the right key, dropping the whole chain clumsily.

'Fuck.', you mumbled and picked them up.

'Let's swap.', Minho announced behind you and gave you the pile while you handed him the key chain. He was even more worried now that you must have been freezing more than he did, so the second he entered the apartment, he went straight to his bedroom and carried the thick blanket to you.

'You go and get cozy in the living room.', he demanded and waited for you to take off your shoes before he pushed you in the direction he wanted you to head to, taking the pile of clothes from you at the same time.

Once he was done washing his hands and grabbing two bottles of water, he followed you, sat down on the floor in front of the sofa where you were curled up into a cocoon, the bottles placed on the small desk. His heart started beating so strongly that he could feel it in his throat. He could just move one meter forward and collect you in his arms, all cozy and close. Just one question, just one agreement and a few moves...

'I need to pee.', you announced, freed yourself from the blanket and went to the bathroom.

It was also just one moment, Minho realised.

The evening proceeded to be just as lacking of conversations as the whole day had already been. You didn't talk much on the way to the concert, the concert itself is no event that provides many talking possibilities and afterwards you two were busy processing all new impressions. Now you spent your time watching dramas, you spread on the sofa and Minho chilling on the floor, head resting on an empty spot of the sofa cushion.

His stomach grumbled and without saying a word he made his way to the kitchen area to cook something. He kept glancing over to you from time to time and the later it got the more he wondered if you would be up for sleeping here. He would like that a lot, he realized and began humming happily when he started imagining how your sheer presence might influence the atmosphere in his apartment.

Suddenly, when he turned to grab a spice on his left, he saw you standing next to him. When did you get up? How long was he actually daydreaming? In panic, he stirred the vegetables in the pan, scared he might have let them burn.

'Can I help with something?', you asked and he was caught off guard by the tiredness in your voice.

'Did you fall asleep?', he asked, genuinely curious, but his voice didn't cooperate and his tone made it sound like he was mocking you.

'Yeah.', you whispered dreamily and sighed.

You seemed happy. He wondered why.

'Good nap?', he questioned and filled some rice in two bowls that were already waiting, while he was working on the greens.

'Hmhmm. Can I help?', you repeated and Minho quickly shook his head, before he could think of verbalizing anything.

'I'll wash the dishes later then.', you shrugged. You didn't move. He found it almost awkward how you were standing in the middle of the room, not initiating of going back to the TV.

'May I smell yo-your shirt?', you whispered, and he dropped the spoon in surprise.

It landed in the pan, and he awkwardly fished it out of the sauce. He carefully laid it down and wiped his hand on a small kitchen towel.

'What?', he finally asked, baffled.

'It's just, your blanket. Like, I want to know if it's the smell of your laundry detergent or you.', you explained, fumbling with the hem of your own shirt.

'The smell?', he didn't understand.

'If the smell comes from the detergent, you need to tell me which brand and scent you're using. I swear, I haven't slept this well for months.', you spoke and started stirring the inside of the pan while Minho kept looking at you in a mixture of shock and disbelief.

After your explanation, he smirked. This was way too funny and if he was honest, way too good to be true to him.

'And what if it's my scent?', he asked confidently, taking the spoon out of your hand.

'Then, ahm, I guess, I, I will cherish this wonderful nap I got to take here?', you spoke slowly, sounding like you were unsure if what you should be saying, like you didn't even think this far.

'Go on, I'm all yours to smell.', he consented and put the pan to the side, deactivated the heat and turned towards you, arms spread to his side, him fully presenting you to himself with his eyes closed, because he knew he wouldn't be able to handle looking at you when you'd approach him with the intention of absorbing something as personal as his scent.

'I could also just smell the detergent.', you clarified and reached around him to take the pan, starting to fill the bowls with vegetables and sauce.

Yes, Minho was disappointed. Not in you, he would never be disappointed just because you didn't do something you didn't want to. He was disappointed in the whole situation and especially in himself, for not being genuine with you. If he were, he would have told you right away that the scene's origin didn't matter, that you could always take a nap here whenever you wanted, because he really liked having you here, giving you everything you'd possibly ask for.

'I'll show you later. Let's eat now.', he suggested and let you carry the bowl to the sofa, following you like a sad puppy that lost its favorite treat.

Other than you said, you didn't take care of the dishes alone. Minho was right by your side. He paused the drama you were watching and turned on music, grooving lazily while washing and tidying up. He caught you covering your mouth due to yawns several times and finally ask nonchalantly, 'You're staying here this night, right?'

'I would love to if it's okay for you.'

He smiled. His was sure his ears got all red, because he felt his body warming up comfortably.

After being done with mundane chores, you returned to the loving room, realizing that it was already 1am. Minho, sitting on the sofa, settled back and sighed. It was a great day. He was absolutely happy.

'Was it alright that I dragged you with me to the concert? I know it's not something you originally enjoy, but I'm very happy that you were with me.', Minho spoke lowly, eyes closed, feeling the exhaustion in his body.

'I actually ended up having fun. Maybe your taste in music isn't that bad after all.'

'Didn't know you had doubts. My taste in everything is out of this world.'

'Sure it is. Keep hallucinating.'

'You're mean, you know that?'

'I'm not and you know that.'

'Yeah... I know.'

'I wanna sleep with your blanket this night', you mumbled after a long pause, cuddling the big blanket that you kept with you ever since Minho gave it to you.

'And I thought you wanted to sleep with me.', he blurted out, unconscious of what he was saying, but he realized after a few seconds and cleared his throat in embarrassment.

'If that was the case I would use your trick and say that I'm scared and need to hold your hand.', you responded, ignoring his embarrassment, but you were well aware of his mood.

'I wouldn't fall for that trick. I know when you're lying.', he laughed.

'And you think I don't know when you're being overdramatic?', you questioned, leaning closer to observe his face, but also to play with him a bit. When would he drop his act of false disinterest and confidence?

'The chair was higher than you think.', he whispered and held eye contact. Silence arose, and the only thing he was focusing on were your eyes, and he recognized once again how weak he was for you. You were so close, so calm and just one question, one consent and one move away for him to caress your cheek with all the gentleness he could put into one touch. He hoped if he'd ever did that, you would become just as weak, melting into his touch like he seemed to find himself melting into your presence.

'I would hold your hand every time you'd ask me to. No chair needed.', you whispered back and he observed you blinking more often, realizing that this position was difficult for you too, but your words sank in, and he felt like crying out of happiness. He believed you, because he really wanted your words to be his reality.

'You're so much braver than I am.', he said and ended the starring contest, looking down at his hands.

'I'm the bravest version of myself when I'm with you.', you confessed and he saw you smiling at him in his peripheral vision.

'Can we go to sleep? I'm very tired?', you asked, wrapping the blanket around you a bit tighter and he nodded , in awe of how adorable you looked.

'I bring you some pillows. You can go get ready for sleep in the meantime.', he said and vanished into his bedroom to bring you anything you might need to have a comfortable sleep. He also pulled out another blanket from his drawer, because there was no way he would take the one you recently occupied from you.

He instructed you to rest well in a serious manner before he left to his room and once the door closed behind him, he threw himself onto the mattress, gathering all wonderful moments of the day in an imaginary treasure box, then actual items he needed after the shower.

The hot water washed away the smell of the concert hall and the spices from cooking. The lotion bottle was still wet, because you used it earlier. It wasn't the first time you showered here. In summer you two would always take a break here for you to take a cold shower, because of how easily you were overwhelmed by warm temperatures. However, you never slept over. You two camped together or stayed over at friends' houses, but having you at his own apartment over night was a first.

He returned to his bed after 20 minutes and wondered if he would even be able to fall asleep, to agitated by the day's events, but he laid down and tried.

A knock on the door woke him up. He actually fell into a deep slumber. The door was slowly pushed open and revealed you, still carrying his blanket with you. He wasn't surprised, but he was still in awe.

'Did the blanket power run off of scent energy?', he groaned and sat up, rubbing his eyes and then making his way towards you. You didn't say a word, and he got slightly scared.

'Are you okay?', he asked, worried, gently pulling you into his room and switching on the fairy light that was unorganized and forgotten on a shelf until this moment. He didn't want to hurt your eyes by switching on the brighter ceiling light.

When he finally saw you properly, he was immediately worried. Your eyes were teary and your breath shaky.

'Scent energy immune against nightmares, I guess.', you whispered and sounded like you're about to cry every moment.

'It's a lot to ask, I kno-ow, but can I sleep here?', you whispered, voice so quiet and shaky that Minho had trouble understanding, but he instantly agreed, expecting you to walk to his bed. You didn't. You spoke again.

'With you?'

He wanted to. He wanted to sleep with you in the same bed, even holding you, so badly. He wanted to be bold and confident, but at the same time he was so intimidated by the way he felt when it came to you and he didn't want to make you uncomfortable, feeling even unsafe in any sense. He would also give you everything you'd ask for and if you wanted him with you, he would be with you.

'Sure.', he said and added a smile, hoping it was assuring and casual.

He took the fairy light and dropped it on the bedside table, waited for you to settle, and once he thought you were comfortable, he switched the light off and laid down as well. It's not much he wished for right now, yet he felt like it was too much to ask. Maybe that's how he could phrase it, so he tried.

'I want to ask you for something.', he started and heard a small 'okay' from you, quiet and in your consciously gentle tone that made him feel good right away.

'It's a lot.', he continued and paused, waiting for an indication if you’re ready or if he should drop it.

'I conquered your bed and you with your pretty body for a night. This is a lot from my side to ask, you have every right to do the same.'

'You're literally the only one I know who could phrase it this way without making it sound dirty.', he chuckled, amused, because it was true. He heard you laughing as well.

'Okay, I really want to hold you close to me. I, I want to, you know...' , he ended.

'You know.', you repeated and he was sure he could never sound as innocent as you regardless of how innocent he actually were.

'Yes, please, I'd like that a lot.', you said and Minho thought he was already in dreamland.

'Please, can you initiate, I'm way too overwhelmed and shy right now.', he heard you whisper and confidence finally returned to its home.

He scooped closer and lifted the blanket from you to let it drop over him as well. Under one blanket, he felt your warmth and every of your movements and it was new to him, he didn't dislike it though. As much as he knew he liked you, he didn't know to what extent and it was as exciting as it was scary to investigate that aspect of himself and the relationship he had with you.

'Minho.', you whispered and he immediately stopped his breath.

'Can we, kinda, set rules or something?'

'What rules?', he asked, not moving.

'Like, for example... that... we have to say... out loud what we think? And we don't judge that? And we don't act on it or something, just, we, ahm, talk eachother through?'

He slowly exhaled and let out a low chuckle.

'Wow. I take it back. You can make your words sound dirty.'

You laughed and sat up, now looking down at him. It was weird, so he sat up as well.

'No, not in that way. Just, I feel like I need to say what's on my mind here or otherwise it's gonna consume me. I don't want it to become awkward with you when there is no reason for that.'

He understood exactly how you felt and was eager to make this right.

'I really want to caress your cheek.', he announced, well aware of how weird it must sound like said out loud and when he heard you laughing, he knew it was weird.

He also realized that it was completely fine. It doesn't have to be serious, it can just be.

'You can do that. I allow it.', you said, the second sentence only a whisper.

Reluctantly, Minho reached out for you, he was feeling calm, but his hands was slightly shaking. However once his fingers touched your skin, he wanted nothing more to make sure you were confident in how much he liked you, how much you were liked and respected.

He pulled away and huffed in a smile. 'You're good?'

'Yes. You?', your voice sounded drained and he laid back down, indicating you to do the same by patting the mattress next to him.

'Just wanna sleep, holding you. Nothing changes, just like having you with me.', he mumbled and felt you rolling over, hesitantly placing your head on his chest.

'Okay?', you questioned and he laughed feeling you relax against him so easily.

'Yes', he said as if your question was the most ridiculous one ever.

Then he remembered something.

'How do I smell?', he asked teasingly, throwing his arms around you to comfort your embarrassment by rubbing your back.

'You should hold my hand.', he announced and heard you huffing tiredly.

'Is the bed that high?', you asked, sounding like you were about to fall asleep every second.

'No, but I'm high on endorphins.', he explained very seriously and wasn't surprised when you pinned his arm down to grab his hand, acting all annoyed when he knew you actually weren't at all, that you liked his company just as much as he enjoyed yours.

[toomuchracket]

angsty part two hmm. well maybe it can have something to do with whatever the heck was going on at electric umbrella studios. maybe girly is there helping out bea (we can pretend maybe she’s doing stuff with jack and not matty for ease of everyone’s heart lmao) then there is that little listening party or whatever where taylor and matty are seen together but maybe girly’s heart couldnt stand to stick around for very long so she leaves early. maybe in this dream matty pulls his head out of his ass and decides he will do anything and be anything that girly wants him to be because this thing with taylor is not doing it for him either

ok! edited the request slightly. and it doesn't have a happy ending because actually i'm a messy bitch who lives for drama. please note: THIS ISN'T ACTUALLY CANON IN THE D WORD UNIVERSE IT'S JUST A COLLECTIVE NIGHTMARE. ok. lol. happy new year. enjoy <3

gone four weeks, part 2 (d word matty x reader angst)

“oh my god, hi! you came! oh, thank you so much!” taylor pulls you into a hug, which you reciprocate warmly; you've no problem with her, after all. “and you look amazing! your hair! those shoes! it's a new look for you. i like it.”

you smile. “thank you, i just fancied a bit of a change. and thank you for inviting me! i was so touched when i got your message.”

“matty said it was your favourite of my albums - i couldn't not have you here.”

what the fuck?

“oh, he did?” you try to keep your face and voice steady. “that was nice of him.”

taylor nods. “it was the first thing he said when i first wondered if anyone would even come to a 1989 listening party - you would, if you were around. thank god margaret ran into you last week and told me you were!”

you murmur a “yeah”, in response, too busy reeling from the sudden emotional pain in your heart to reply properly. blinking a couple of times, you look back towards the front door of the studio to see more people coming in. “taylor, i'll catch up with you later, yeah? let you speak to… oh my god, i'm at the same party as kendrick lamar? fucking hell.”

she laughs, squeezing your arm. “no worries, babe. i'll see you later! matty’s… somewhere, if you want to catch up with him”.

not bloody likely. “cool. see you!”

you smile politely at kendrick, who returns it (!!), before heading off into the busy room. there are people you recognise absolutely everywhere you turn, but nobody you really know, more just celebrities you'd be worried about embarrassing yourself in front of. no sign of jack, or margaret, or even matty - not that you particularly want to see him, to be honest, but a familiar face (one not from your tv screen, that is) would definitely calm you down.

of course, so would a cigarette.

pulling your cigs and lighter from your bag, you nudge the side door open with your hip and step out into the alleyway and still-warm evening air. and then, almost immediately, you wish you hadn't. because, standing with his back to you - although that makes no difference, you'd know those back muscles and that head of hair anywhere - is matty, talking to jack and margaret, all three of them smoking.

fuck. this was an awful idea. but you can't turn back to go inside now, because jack's clocked you; he’s beaming, waving at you, shouting “sprout! get over here and smoke with us!”

despite yourself, you smile, wandering over and allowing yourself to be enveloped in a hug from the man and his fiancée. “wish you'd stop bloody calling me that, jack.”

“never,” jack replies, kissing your head as he releases you into margaret's arms. “you're sprout, and he's cabbage.”

“whatever - hi, mags,” you kiss your friend's cheek as she breaks apart and settles her arm around your waist, before reluctantly meeting your ex's gaze. you're irritated to see that he looks good. like, really good, something-twinging-between-your-legs good. get a grip! “matthew.”

“alright?” matty smiles at you, but it doesn't reach his eyes. “almost didn't recognise you. hair's shorter.”

you shrug. “wanted something different.”

“sounds like you.”

the snide comment slices through you. unlike last time, though, you don't tear up; you fire right back at him. “well, i'm at an age where i can afford to experiment.”

matty frowns, while jack and margaret burst into giggles. the latter kisses the side of your head. “god, you’re funny. i can't believe you were in the city all this time and you didn't tell us! i miss hanging out with you.”

“i was busy,” you place a cigarette between your lips, shaking hands trying and failing to successfully operate the lighter. matty wordlessly steps forward and does it for you - your cheeks burn as much as the cig does. “thank you.”

“don't,” matty waves it off, taking a long drag of his own cig before looking at you again. “so. you haven't been back home?”

“not since the last time you saw me,” you ash the cig, pointedly looking down at the ground. “there hasn't been any work for me to do, so there's nothing keeping me there, really.”

matty scoffs. “typical, you prioritising your job.”

“well, it's what you pay me for. you should be happy i care so much about my career, really, matty,” you smile, saccharine as summer peaches, before turning to jack and margaret. “anyway, how's wedding planning going?”

jack breaks into an excited soliloquy that you can only half focus on, hoping you're timing the oohing and aahing and awwing at his fiancée’s enthusiastic interjections right; most of your attention, you hate to say, is focused on the man opposite you, clearly - to you, at least - upset. the familiar guilt begins to gnaw at your ribcage, and you're thankful when margaret checks her watch and begins to usher you back inside.

matty, though, has other ideas. he touches your elbow, so lightly you barely feel it, and yet your body reacts as if he's punched you. “can i talk to you alone for a minute?”

panicked, you turn towards jack, who nods. “you still have a few minutes. i just need to go in to set up. see you in there!”

shit.

once you're alone with your ex, you move to brace yourself against the wall, folding your arms. “what?”

“why didn't you tell me you were in new york?”

“why would i?”

“well,” matty's voice falters; when he speaks again, it's almost a whisper. “i don't know. maybe we could've, like, gone for a drink. or you could've come down here to hang out.”

“again, why would i?” you tilt your head. “no offence, mate, but hanging out with my ex and his new girlfriend isn't exactly my idea of a fun time. or just hanging out with my ex full stop.”

“thanks for that,” matty grimaces.

you sigh. “look, i know you well enough to be able to read your cryptic fucking subtext. i've been alright, matty, i really have. i've been with friends.”

“you don't have any friends in new york.”

“and how the fuck would you know that? honest to fucking god,” you snap. “i didn't tell you everything about me…”

“i know that well enough.”

“...but, if you must know, one of my friends from home opened an exhibition in tribeca. orla.”

matty nods. “we went to her london opening together before… us, didn't we?”

the memory feels distant, as if from another life, but it hurts all the same. “yeah.”

“i would've liked to have gone to her show here, too. she's good.”

you smile genuinely for the first time, pride for your friend stronger than the fucked up pot of feelings you have towards matty. “it was really something. i helped set it up, actually. was fun.”

“really?” matty laughs; something cracks inside you when he does. “yeah, i can see you being good at that, actually.”

you look at the ground, still smiling, but less now. “been thinking about switching to it full-time. curation and stuff.”

“oh,” matty sounds crestfallen. you peek up at him to find that he looks it, too. “well… if that's what you want to do, i s'pose you should look into it,” he checks the time on his phone, while your heart sinks impossibly deeper. “it's starting soon. i'll head in now, and then if you-”

“wait thirty seconds before i follow you? yeah, i know the drill,” you smile lifelessly. “least you won't have to worry about that if i get a new job, yeah? you'll likely never have to see me again, let alone risk being seen with me.”

“i- anyway,” matty clears his throat, turning quickly away from you. “i should go.”

“okay,” the door closes behind him before you can even get the second syllable out, and there you are, alone again, in the suddenly-cold night air. you shakily exhale your cigarette for the last time, stubbing it out on the wall and stamping the butt with your high heel for good measure; once no trace of the flame remains, you go back inside.

for the rest of the night, part of you wishes you hadn't bothered. while hearing your favourite album is truly, genuinely brilliant, the experience is marred somewhat by your ex sitting in the seat opposite yours with taylor's head on his shoulder: you can't quite lipsync along to this love or clean or you are in love without your lips beginning to tremble, the new song now that we don't talk genuinely makes you nauseous when you figure out the lyrics, and actually hearing matty's voice on a vault track is painful beyond words.

but still, you clap, you fake smiles, you cheer for taylor and jack and the work they've put into the production. it's not easy, though, and you're thankful for the distraction when your phone buzzes with an invitation while you're alone at the drinks table grabbing another champagne.

“now i know you're not about to entertain a man who sent you an i miss you, come over text,” taylor’s voice sounds scandalised from behind you.

you turn, grinning, smile dropping slightly when you see she isn’t alone. “don't worry, i'm taking the piss out of him for it as we speak…”

“good.”

“...but i am gonna go and see him, in a minute,” you finish, looking down at your phone and giggling when you see a reply. “if that's alright, that is.”

matty raises his eyebrows the way he does before he opens his mouth, but taylor beats him to it. “look at you giggling at him! of course! go! but first,” she gently drags you to a nearby sofa and settles onto it, patting the seat beside her; you take it, while matty awkwardly settles himself on a footstool in front of you both. “tell me about him.”

“you really want to know?” you aren't quite sure which of them the question is directed at. taylor nods, and judging by matty's expression he's also curious, so you sigh and keep talking. “well, his name is michael. he's a playwright. we met through friends. he's lived in new york his whole life. he seems slightly obsessed with me, but in a good way - so far, at least. he's very sweet.”

“a playwright? that's cool,” taylor grins. “what does he look like?”

“a bit like andrew garfield, actually,” you laugh, looking down at your phone again. “and he's offering to meet me at a bar, so it's probably time for me to be on my way.”

“sure. have fun, stay safe,” she pulls you into a hug; you see matty wince, out of the corner of your eye. “thank you so much for coming. when do you go back home?”

“not until the end of the month. i don't know if i'm actually going on the festival run, yet,” you shrug. “but i'll go home before it, just in case.”

“it's a lot, isn't it?”

taylor, babe, you don't even know the half of it. “yeah. it won't be easy.”

she hums. “we should hang out before you go. nothing crazy, just dinner or drinks or something. like, something fun, before you have to go back to keeping a record label running,” she nudges matty, who smiles quickly but continues looking at the floor. “i'll call you, okay?”

“that sounds good,” you stretch. “right, i really should go - the bar is a twenty-minute walk from here and i said i'd meet michael in fifteen.”

matty tuts. “he's knowingly letting you walk alone to meet him at half ten at night? no. absolutely not.”

you roll your eyes. “for god's sake, i'll be fine. i'm an adult!”

“yeah, babe, but still,” taylor’s eyes are wide. “take a car! for our peace of mind, at least.”

our. you do your best not to shudder, and smile instead. “if you're sure…”

“she's sure,” matty nods. “get it to take you back to your… whatever it is you're staying in after your drink, too.”

“i mean, i'm going back to his,” you look matty dead in the eye when you say it, and the sadness that fills his is impossible to miss. christ, what is his deal? “but thanks. anyway,” you hug taylor before you stand. “thanks again for tonight. i'll see you soon,” you nod at matty. “and i'll… see you at finsbury, definitely. maybe sooner. i don't know. there'll be an email soon confirming what's happening. bye.”

much to your chagrin, matty stands too. “i'll walk you out. make sure you actually get in the car - i know what you're like.”

for fuck's sake. “alright. bye, taylor!” you wave as you move towards the door.

“bye, babe!”

you walk quickly through the corridors, trying to keep some distance between you and matty. annoyingly, though, he matches your pace, and speaks. “so… michael.”

the vitriol practically drips from his tongue. you scoff. “what about him?”

“tell me more about him. what’s he like?”

“he's my age,” you pointedly don’t look at matty when you say that, but you hear the way his breath catches in his throat. the guilt begins gnawing again; you keep talking to distract yourself from it. “he's ridiculously american, which means he doesn't get my sense of humour sometimes, but as soon as he found out i lived in london he took the piss and started calling me ‘princess’.”

the word leaves your mouth before you can stop it; as soon as it does, you bite the insides of your lips together, guilt spreading to every bone in your body. tentatively, you look round at matty, who's stopped walking in favour of looking at the ground and clasping his hands behind his neck. everything about him radiates hurt, and it only worsens when he quietly speaks. “he calls you what?”

you can't bring yourself to say it again. “you heard me, matty.”

“wish i fucking hadn't,” your ex looks up at you again, and you know he's about to verbally lash out; he looks exactly the same as he did before you split. “you really let him call you that? my name for you?”

“think you lost all rights to that the day you dumped me, to be honest, mate.”

“fucking hate it when you call me that. stop it.”

“well, i'm sure as shit not going to resort to what i used to call you, am i?”

matty laughs mirthlessly. it's the worst sound you've ever heard. “no, you've got michael for that now.”

“no, i haven't,” you're loathe to admit what you're about to say, but you really want him to feel bad. “haven't slept with him yet - or anyone, for that matter, since you broke up with me,” you glance at matty, who looks rightfully sheepish, and decide to just fuck with him even further. “but maybe i will tonight. s'about time i felt good about myself.”

“you know, you've been really fucking snide today. i don't know what i've done to deserve it.”

you stop dead in your tracks, turning to face him in total bewilderment. “well, aside from the whole, y'know, dumping me at the first sign of disagreement, you fucking started it with the arsey comments today, matty. sounds like you? fuck off.”

he shrugs. “but it does. you don't want what i want, so… why bother keeping this going?”

you huff, pushing the door to the staircase open. “i never said i didn't want to get married and have kids, by the way.”

“what? yes you-”

“no, i didn't,” you smile sadly. “all i said was that i was unsure, and because it wasn't me immediately saying yes to something for the first time in our relationship, you took it as a no.”

matty's shaking his head. “no, that-that's not-”

“yes it is, sweetheart,” the tears are beginning to prick at your eyes; matty's too, you can see. “that's what happened.”

“but you freaked out so much…”

“because you sprung it on me, out of the blue! come on, matty,” you can feel your jaw trembling. “you would've done the same, if a partner had asked you that question when you were my age.”

matty sniffles. “please stop bringing up the age gap, darling.”

the pet name enrages you; it's agonising how natural it sounds coming from his lips, and even more painful how automatically your body reacts to it. “well, i can't not, given that it's what fucked us up, in the end,” you take a deep breath, and walk out the side door onto the street. it's fairly quiet, you're relieved to see. “besides - i thought you liked it? that was my appeal, wasn't it? being young, and pretty, and naive, so fucking naive. a meek little toy, something you could play with however you wanted without fear of it rebelling against what you wanted. because that's really all that matters, isn't it, what you want? course it is, because when that was threatened, you stopped wanting me.”

hot tears are hitting your cheeks with increasing speed, but your voice somehow stays strong, unwavering, controlled; the same can't be said for matty, who's crying just as much as you. “no, no, that's not true, not at all, please don't say that.”

“but that's what it feels like,” your voice cracks into a sob. “you didn't even want to talk to me about it. you were just... fine with letting me go. i didn't think you could ever be so cruel to someone you claim to have loved, once, matty. especially not someone who loves you as much as i do,” sniffling, you wipe your eyes and open a car door, quickly telling the driver the address of the bar before turning back to matty. “i appreciate you getting taylor to invite me tonight, but i think it was a mistake; we can't be friends, you and i, we really can't. i'm sorry, it just… hurts,” you check the time. “i need to go. take care.”

it's too warm in the car. you roll the window down slightly. you can hear matty crying from halfway down the street.