#knowing your world and friends are being consumed while you're whiling away days in a relative paradise and how everything COULD be fixed

[idalenn]

To reach The unreachable star

[maxlarens]

Hi! Can i request friends for lovers with lando saying "i can't seem to take neither my eyes, nor my mind off of you, [name]." ✨🫶 thank you

usually i am so Consumed by the idea of the ✨Tension✨ of friends to lovers that i never do a confession scene but here is me making good on that finally. i hope u liked this anon!!!! sorry it took a while.

In hindsight, you think you should have woken up that morning and known. Known via some cosmic force that today was going to be it— the day you’d been waiting basically a decade for, the day you don't think you'll forget as long as you live—

Instead, you wake up bolt upright at three in the morning, heart beating frantic in your chest, to five missed calls from your best friend.

"What?", you groan, angry, into the phone, then, realising he's calling you at three in the morning, a more concerned note seeps into your tone, "Lan, is that you? You alright?"

"I locked myself out," is the gravelly reply.

"You locked yourself out?"

"I— yes," he hisses down the line, "I forgot my keys okay."

You snort, say, "You're a silly billy," without thinking anything of it.

You'll attribute it to sleep deprivation later, but you'll also find that Lando thinks nothing further of it, too used to you throwing affectionate nicknames his way—

"Shuddup," he mumbles.

You think he's drunk, at least tipsy. He'd said something offhandedly on your FaceTime call yesterday about going out with a few friends you don't know. Besides, there's a slur to his words, a tiredness.

"Come up already," you tell him.

"'M right outside."

You hum in confirmation that you've heard him, put your phone back on the nightstand and slip out from under the covers. You're wearing a sweatshirt that's three sizes too big it might be Lando's and pink fuzzy socks, you feel goosebumps rise on your legs as you pad to the front door. You lean heavily against the wall, closing your eyes as you unlock the padlock and swing it open for your friend.

Lando stumbles in. You twist around to look at him. He's not as drunk as you thought he might be. Sleepy though. You can tell by the squint of his eyes, how they're red rimmed and the mess of his hair. Run through too many times with his hand.

"You want your spare key?", you question as Lando turns on his heel, finding you at the sound of your voice.

He frowns, looking at you like you've grown two heads. Crease forming between his eyebrows.

"Nuh," he shakes his head, then reaches forward to take your wrist, hauling you back through the apartment, "Let's go sleep."

You shrug, acquiescing as he leads you to your bedroom. If you hadn't just been woken up from a dead sleep you might have felt a little weird about it. Paid attention to the stirring feeling low in your gut. Instead, you slip into bed and pull the covers back for Lando without a care in the world.

It's not that weird, you think as he kicks off his shoes and rummages around on your hanging rail for a shirt big enough for him. He finds one that you're sure was originally his. You look away as he changes, shucking out of the short sleeve button up you'd helped him pick out, peeling off chinos you'd also picked out. There's a pair of his gym shorts laying around somewhere, you know it— but he doesn't bother to look for them. Just pulls the t-shirt on over his bare tan chest and climbs in next to you.

You've done this before. Many times. And the two of you make a deliberate point of not being weird about, even though it's been a point of contention in every relationship either of you have had to date. And you don't know what it is tonight this morning, but his presence next to you is making your chest tight. Something skitters up your spine as he slots into your space.

As casual as ever he slings an arm over your waist, tugs you closer to him and presses the line of his nose into the back of your neck. Briefly, he reaches to swipe your hair out of the way, mumbling something about it tickling him.

There's something set ablaze in your stomach.

"G'night, babe," he mutters, breath fanning your ear.

God. You have to suppress a shiver. The babe thing isn't even anything different, he calls you that often enough mostly when he's had something to drink, there's just something about it right now. When you're sleep-woozy and he's just undressed in front of you. Maybe you had a weird dream about him again and you can't remember it, even if your subconscious does.

You bite down on your tongue, answer, "Sleep tight, Lan."

He hums. You crack your neck to stop from letting out a noise that would be utterly indecent right now. Unaware, Lando puts his nose right back in the same spot. You lie there for a while, wired and buzzing, until you hear his breathing steady and deepen as he falls asleep. And even though you feel like every nerve ending in your body is on fire, sleep finds you too.

You wake up again, later, to the morning sun pouring in through your curtains. It lights up the empty space on the bed in front of you. Acreage of bed, pillow, not taken up by anyone.

Still, on your other side, Lando's in your personal space to a degree that you don't realise at first. You wake up disoriented, grappling to remember the events of early that morning. There’s still no cosmic thing telling you that you need to remember today. Commit every single second to memory as it happens. You try to roll over, feeling warmth at your back but not thinking anything of it until Lando gripes something unintelligible into your ear—

Okay. Memories return to you now.

You start to contextualise the skin on yours.

Lando's arm is still slung around your waist, but his hand has made it's way underneath your jumper. Fingers dig into the plush skin of your bare stomach, clutching like you'll slip out of his grasp if he's not careful. Somehow, the other arm has forced it's way under your pillow and you can feel the line of his body against your back, where he's gotten as close to you as he could manage. His legs tangle with yours, one of them spreading out into your space, strewn diagonally across the bed. His knee presses up into the meat of your thigh.

You try not to think how easily your bodies fit together.

You're still for a while. Drifting in and out of sleep. You're comfortable, above all else. You don't really want Lando to move. This certainly isn't the first time you've woken up like this, tangled up with each other, you're betting you'll be able to pass it off with a silly comment once Lando wakes up. You'll extract yourselves from each other and get on with your day like usual.

No big deal—

Lando wakes up half an hour or so later and acts like nothing out of the ordinary had happened. He yawns loudly into your ear and rolls over without fanfare—

No big deal—

It's only when you're in the kitchen together— cooking bacon and eggs while Lando drinks coffee from your espresso machine— that the cracks start to show.

You glance at him sideways, watching as he gnaws at the inside of his mouth. His eyes slip off you, directing to the sizzling pan, “What’s up?”, you ask, “Something happen?”

He shakes his head, too quickly, “No. Nope— I—”

He tapers off his sentence, shaking his head. Nose scrunching momentarily. You raise an eyebrow but don’t think much of it. It’s Lando, he’ll tell you if it’s important. Plus, you’re kinda busy right now making sure the eggs don’t burn. A few minutes pass, you ask him to grab plates. He says okay and then drags out an,

“Um,” for so long that you’re a little concerned.

Something nervous flutters in your chest, you’re turning the heat on the burner down low before you know why. You’ve just been friends with Lando for so long, you know when there’s something heavy in his words, when there’s something on the tip of his tongue.

You turn to give him your full attention, your eyebrows furrowing as you look up at him.

“Plates, Lan?”

He’s staring at you. Like, staring at you. Like, slack-jawed, eyes glittering, staring. Like how the guy looks at the girl at the end of every rom-com ever. Like how Harry looks at Sally in every fucking scene of your favourite movie of all time. Like—

Shit. Do you have a massive fuck off pimple on your face? Have you turned blue? Are you being completely out of your mind delusional right now? Because there’s something suddenly wreaking havoc in your stomach. And you really do want to believe that Lando is looking at you in that way, and not just because you’ve got something embarrassing on your face—

“Lando,” you say, firmly, urgency to it, “Spit it out.”

He shakes his head.

You put a hand on his bicep, “Lando.”

It’s got to be that. It’s got to be—

God, your chest feels tight. Your skin feels like it’s on fire. He’s not even said anything yet!

It’s got to be—

He blinks. You think your sudden intensity has made him nervous because he rolls his shoulders and cracks his neck from side to side. A little groan escapes his lips.

“I just—” he sighs heavily, as if it’s too hard to force out; but he’s still looking at you, “What if, I was— ugh, no, nothing, it’s fine—”

“What if you were what?”, it’s out of your mouth before you can think. You think you know exactly what the end of his sentence is. You think perhaps you are too. A pause, then, being braver than you thought you could be, you add, “In love with me?”

He looks immediately as if you’ve sucker punched him right in the gut. Eyes wide and wet and red-rimmed, like kicked puppy, a pleading dog. There’s something scared, nervous, in the set of his shoulders as well. You watch them draw up to his chin as he tries to sink into them.

“Why would you say that?” His voice is downright panicked, “How did you know that?”

Your heart stops beating in your chest, drops into your stomach and falls right out your ass. You shake your head,

“I didn’t. I didn’t. I just guessed, Lan,” you realise your hand is still on his bicep, you squeeze, “Are you?”

“Am I?”, he looks slightly incredulous, baffled at what you’re saying like it’s supposed to be obvious that he is, “Jesus. Of course I am. I can’t– I can’t stop thinking about you. You’re there all the time. And y’know, I see you and you’re just,” he waves an arm between the two of you, gesturing up and down at your body, “You’re fucken’ gorgeous. And you don’t say a thing when we wake up together and I’m basically, on top of you—”

“You don’t say anything either,” you gripe, even though there’s something like joy clawing up your throat, “I thought it was normal.”

Lando tips his head back, groans something halfway filthy, “Normal. I didn’t let half my exes sleep over, and I turned around if they did sleep in my bed. And— fuck, y’know— my keys are actually in my pants pocket right now. I was out drinking and having fun and all I could think about was how much I missed you. How much I just wanted to like, crawl into bed with you.”

“You arsehole.”

“What?”

“You arsehole,” you repeat, “I would have let you in anyway. You didn’t have to lie.”

For a long minute, Lando gapes at you like a fish out of water. Briefly, you think maybe you’ve screwed it by being too mean. It’s never stopped you before, but you’ve also never been in this exact situation with Lando before, frighteningly enough—

One second you’re running through all the possible apologies you could give to make it better, to smooth it all over, and then the next Lando is kissing you—

Or, you feel his hand on your chin first, your mouth forming the first letter of shit, sorry Lan, and then suddenly his mouth is slanting across yours. He tastes a bit like morning breath and a lot like bitter coffee, but his mouth is wet and soft and your lips slot together so perfectly. You put a hand in his curls and find that it feels different to when you card your fingers through his hair.

God.

He’s got a hand on your waist and he’s digging his fingers into your jaw like you’re going to pull away from him without warning and never come back.

“Lan,” you say into his mouth, he pauses long enough for you to speak, lips hovering, nearly touching, “‘M not going anywhere.”

He shakes his head, slanting forward to kiss you again, “No, you’re not,” he pulls back again, pressing his forehead to yours, green-as-grass eyes boring into yours, “Please say you’re in love with me right now?”

Despite yourself, you raise an eyebrow, “Are you in love with me?”

He sighs something ragged out through his nose, kisses you again, says, “‘Course, I’m in love with you. How could I not be,” into your mouth.

You hum from the back of your throat, tongue slipping forward to press against his teeth, tangling against his, “Then of course I am, Lan,” you echo.

How could you not be?

u just know all of lando's gfs/situationships HATED the fuck out of her

[crimsntwlip]

"i said i love the smiths" | pt. 2

pairing: mattheo riddle x fem!reader

warnings: slow burn, readers status not mentioned, reader is a slytherin

summary: after that little interaction that happened between you and mattheo, he starts to notice you more.

a/n: ¿i think i might turn this into a chapter fic? if this does well.. please Imk your thoughts !!

masterlist I posted: 11/22/23 | part 1

a few days had passed since the little gathering in slytherin. mattheo was currently sitting in potions class next to theodore, quietly dozing off into his own little world while snape’s monotonous words bore him to death.

his mind drifted to her, thinking back to the little interaction they had during the party and how quickly he wanted to get to know more of her. during those few days that had passed, mattheo was consumed by thoughts of (y/n). he had become more aware of you; previously, he had not even known your name or acknowledged your presence in the classes you both shared, something he had not realized until recently.

he had his eyes fixed on the back of your head without realizing it. snape on the other hand, clearly noticed the distracted gaze mattheo had, quickly calling him out for it.

“mister riddle!” he exclaimed loudly, making him jump slightly in embarrassment as everyone turned their heads towards him, including yours as he immediately looked up at snape as he noticed that you had turned around to face the boy while he was being scolded.

snape deadpanned, "i see you're paying much attention." he scowled, "what negative effects could peppermint potion have?" he gave the instruction, causing mattheo to cast a sidelong glance in theodore’s direction, who appeared amused by the scenario.

he turned his gaze back towards the professor, “uh.. well..” he dragged, clearing his throat before continuing, “that would be uh steam coming from the ears?” he answered which sounded more of a question.

(y/n) noticed the confused tone in his voice, making her snicker quietly but quickly dying down when snape snapped his head towards her, making her feel small as she sunk into her seat. mattheo grinned at her but quickly wiped it off as snape turned back towards him. “correct.” he revealed sternly.

“now if you care to pay attention this time.” he requested, giving mattheo a determined look. theodore nudged him in his rib, smirking as mattheo simply narrowed his eyes at him before turning back towards the lesson, glancing at (y/n) here and there.

・・・・・・・・・・・・・・

(y/n) felt a small shove, she furrowed her brows as her two bestfriends filled the empty seats next to her at the dining table. "i heard what happened in potions," elenoise commented as she began to load her plate with goods. she glanced at a puzzled (y/n). “what do you mean?” (y/n) asked, recalling back to earlier, you thought nothing particular happened.

“you really don’t know?” elenoise asked as she began stuffing her mouth, (y/n) shook her head at the girl, as she began to grow curious. “a certain slytherin was scolded for staring at you the entire lesson!” augusta chimed in, wiggling her eyebrows at you with a grin. “me?” you asked, you felt a slight blush creep up, the two girls nod at you.

“actually,” augusta muttered, she moved her gaze away and looked across the table, not that far away from you guys was mattheo who sitting with his friends as his attention was fixated towards you. “he’s looking at you right now!” augusta smirked, you follow her gaze, immediately making eye contact with mattheo.

as you made eye contact with him, almost immediately did he look away. his ears turning red from embarrassment of being caught as he tried avoiding your stare, turning his attention back to his friends. your friends start laughing, holding onto your shoulders for support as they held their stomach. you though, stayed quiet as you continue blushing, looking down at your food as your friends continued to tease you about this.

“okay.. thats enough..” you whined, feeling flustered as your friends teased you. you glanced back up at him, revealing once again his gaze on you. you gave him a gentle smile back before turning your attention back to your friends.

thoughts of befriending riddle came across your mind, his small gestures lingering on your mind. maybe, you thought, he isn’t like the others.

mattheo noticed the smile you returned, maybe, just maybe did he have a chance.

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy

[angelicqsa]

.ೃ࿐ 𝗌𝗎𝗆����𝖾𝗋𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝖺𝖽𝗇𝖾𝗌𝗌

𝙥𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜 | 𝖻𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗑 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙧𝙮 | 𝗌𝖾𝗍 𝗂𝗇 𝗌𝖾𝖺𝗌𝗈𝗇 3, 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗁𝖺𝗌 𝖻𝖾𝖾𝗇 𝖼𝗁𝗈𝗈𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖯𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗅𝗈𝗒𝖺𝗅𝗍𝗒 𝗍𝗈𝗐𝖺𝗋𝖽𝗌 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗈𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗍𝗁𝖾 𝗋𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗅𝗌𝗈 𝖽𝗈𝖾𝗌𝗇’𝗍 𝗅𝗂𝗄𝖾 𝗐𝗁𝖺𝗍 𝖡𝖾𝗅𝗅𝖺𝗆𝗒 𝗂𝗌 𝖽𝗈𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝖽𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖽𝖾𝗌 𝗍𝗈 𝖼𝗈𝗇𝖿𝗋𝗈𝗇𝗍 𝗁𝗂𝗆.

𝙬𝙖𝙧𝙣𝙞𝙣𝙜𝙨 | 𝖺𝗇𝗀𝗌𝗍 𝗐𝗂𝗍𝗁 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍, 𝖻𝗈𝖽𝗒 𝗐𝗈𝗋𝗌𝗁𝗂𝗉, 𝖺𝗅𝖼𝗈𝗁𝗈𝗅 𝖺𝖽𝖽𝗂𝖼𝗍𝗂𝗈𝗇

𝙣𝙤𝙩𝙚𝙨 | 𝖥𝗂𝗋𝗌𝗍 𝗍𝗂𝗆𝖾 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗎𝗆𝖻𝗅𝗋 𝗀𝗎𝗒𝗌𝗌𝗌!

.·:*¨༺ ༻¨*:·.

“ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴀ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ”, ʏᴏᴜ ꜱᴀɪᴅ. ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴜᴇʟ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴡᴀꜱ, ɪᴛ ꜰᴇʟᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍɪꜱᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴡᴀꜱ ᴍɪɴᴇ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛ��ᴜꜱᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ.” – ᴅᴀᴠɪᴅ ʟᴇᴠɪᴛʜᴀɴ

────────────˚🦢・₊✧⋆⭒˚｡⋆────────────

Being with bellamy was everything to me. You two were a perfect picture couple, ever since yall met; on the dropship the first day the 100 came down, you and Bellamy had chemistry. Despite you not liking his 'whatever the hell we want' motto you decide to give him a chance, and to let him in your heart. Since then its been nothing but pure bliss and a strong feeling of content. He'd always hold you and whisper sweet nothings and treat you like someone. And for once in your life you felt like you was important to someone, and you felt like you had meaning in life which is something you had never felt before. But now, its as if a summertime sadness has hit.

When Pike and Bellamy had been having these hush conversations he started acting a little off and the soft love touches were soon replaced with intense stares. It was as if a switch had flipped in him, a battle with dark vs light and the dark took over the light inside him. He walks out of the bathroom into your shared room and you ask, "Is everything okay Bellamy? You're acting a little off. You can talk to me you know?" You whisper as he climbs into bed and just stares at me as if i said nothing.

With a gruff sound he responds in a monotone way, "I'm fine. Just some stuff with Pike and Kane." he turns his back towards me before you could even respond he turns off his lamp on his side of the bed. Feeling disappointment wash through me, you turn off my lamp and let out a sigh then turn your back on him and lay there, with him consuming your last thoughts for the night.

That was about a week ago and since then, Pike has became the chancellor with Bellamy's help, Bellamy keeps distancing himself farther and farther away from you it's a contrast to how just a few weeks ago you two were a perfect couple, laughing together, secretly running off, fixing the cars together and just overall enjoying each others company. Everything has changed.

You finish up my work in the library, fixing books and collecting books that were once borrowed. You walk to the bar spotting Jasper, "Hey Jasper. How you holdin' up?" You ask curiously as you pull up a seat next to him. you were secretly hoping he wouldn't blame me for Maya's death for the 15th time in the past month which of course you felt somewhat guilty about, but you're aware that it wasn't you who killed her, and the ones responsible held an immense amount of guilt, not only for her, but for all the victims.

"Hey.." Jasper says drunkenly, while nodding off. He had bags under his eyes as if he never sleeps, which could be possibles considering the grief he was feeling. His grief and his drinking go hand in hand, everytime you see Jasper he's either drunk or on his way to being drunk. It was sad seeing your friend destroy himself.

"How are you tod-" You quickly get cut off to Lincoln being dragged out of medical by one of Pike's goons while angrily cursing at them in Trigedasleng.

"What the fuck is going on!?" You rush over to the scene while looking at Lincoln getting dragged away and you spot Bellamy standing next to Pike without a care in the world that Lincoln; one of his friends, was getting dragged out.

You rush over to Bellamy, anger quickly filling my veins you grab his wrist and mutter to Pike "Can you excuse us for a moment?" you don't even give him a chance to respond before dragging Bellamy to our room.

He looks confused when you first started dragging him, "Hey! what's wrong!" You ignore him.

He tries again and says, "Why are you angrily dragging me like i did something wrong?" Again. Silence.

He sighs angrily and says, "Now you're ignoring me!?" You simply roll your eyes, still angry and stay silent.

"Im so confused! What did i do!?"

The last sentence was shouted as soon as you hit the door and you soon as you shut the door the anger in you swells, the anger that has been continuously increasing these past few weeks that you ultimately end up ejecting at Bellamy with full force.

"Are you fucking serious right now Bellamy!? 'What did i do', 'What did i do wrong?' You fucking know what you did wrong!," Bellamy looks at you in surprise at the burst of anger you just threw at him and tries to interject,

"Is this about Lincoln? I really coul-" You hold your hand up as a sign for him to stop talking and also yell,

"Im not fucking finished talking Bellamy! Im gonna talk and you're gonna fucking listen! I've been feeling like shit for these past few weeks! You've been cold towards me. You've been putting Pike and your loyalty before your loyalty to your friends whos been with you when we were dropped on this planet to die! I-.. I don't know who you are anymore Bellamy, it truly hurts to say that." You feel a pool form in your eyes as you explode, your emotions feel all over the place and you can almost see how this is gonna end. And the 'end' that formed in your mind wasn't a happy ending.

Bellamy looks at you, his eyes soft, opposite to the rough and intense eyes you'd been getting these past few weeks. Bellamy opens his mouth then quickly closes it processing what you had said.

He whispers, scared that an increase of volume might get his heart broken. "Im sorry, i- i didnt mean to make you feel like that. I had no idea you felt like that."

The tears fall down your face as if youre a window on a rainy day, you look down deep in thought and prepare for the answer you might get for this next question. "Do you love me anymore Bellamy?" You say as your voice cracks. You're too afraid to look at his expression, but suddenly you feel his fingers on your chin forcing you to look up at him. He looks broken, he also had tears in his eyes.

"You think i don't love you...? How- How could you think that? I live my life for you. Anywhere you go i go. You've became a big part of my life and showed me what being truly loved is like. I love you always and forever, and i promise ill do everything to make you feel the love i feel for you." He says while crying in guilt for making her ever feel that way. How could he make her feel like that? This girl is the love of his life. The person he wanted to spend all his years with and build a family with.

"I love you Bellamy. So so much." you smile while connecting my forehead with his. "We'll get through this together." you kiss him passionately, all the anger already gone and replaced with love and happiness. See this is the boy you fell in love with.

You two passionately kiss and the kiss progressively gets deeper and more needy. He back away first, breathlessly he says, "Can i show you how much i love you? Baby let me worship you."

You nod your head and kiss him again before he picks you up and you yelp in surprise. "Maybe a warning next time" You giggle as he places you on the bed and starts to move his hands around your body making sure to touch everywhere.

Your body tingles as you feel his hands all over you. He towers over you and kisses you slowly before moving to your neck and making sweet love spots.

'Mmm Bell..' You mutter as he licks and sucks, those mutters eventually turn into moans.

"You gotta keep it down baby. Can you do that for me?" He asks as he pauses from sucking your neck. You nod and he proceeds.

You feel the warmth on your neck suddenly disappear and then you feel your pants being slid off slowly and look down to see Bellamy making eye contact while playing with your panties.

"You're so gorgeous.. how'd i get so lucky?" He says. He then rises up and removes your shirt, exposing your bra. He ends up taking that off and looking at your boobs as if he's seen a million dollars. He starts sucking on one of your nipples while kneading the other one in his hand. You whimper at the blissful sensations while making eye contact with him which just increases the nectar coming out your pussy.

He kisses the nipple he had just been sucking on and moves on to the next one making you bite your lip in pleasure whining at the good sensation.

He then moves to the valley of your breast and starts making open mouthed kisses down to the part where your panties were. He mumbles "These shouldnt be on" and rips them off.

"Hey! i liked those!" You say gasping as you feel the air on your vagina.

"Theres plenty more baby." He says while looking at you with a smirk. He then licks a long strip from your clit down to my entrance. "You're getting my fingers and my tongue today ok baby?" He says while breathing hard out his nose. You love how he still was somewhat dominant even when its supposed to be soft and him worshipping your body you still love the sense of dominance he brings.

"Yes baby thats ok." You whimper out while looking at him with anticipation. He attacks your clit first, circling your clit slowly before sucking which he repeats for a minute. He then places open mouthed kisses on your vagina as he did when he was working on your chest.

You moan at the sensations feeling it deep inside your core almost close to coming. But you didn't want to come that quick and have the night be over with already. You arch your back into his tongue while he licks and suck as if you vagina was a lollipop. You felt close and felt pure bliss ignoring the words he had once muttered earlier 'you gotta keep it down baby' well being cautious of your volume was long gone as soon as his tongue made contact with your clit.

He sucks on your clit which brings you closer to the edge. "F-fuck Bell.. im-im close!" You struggle to say, lost in the sensations and tingles your body was feeling. One last lick did the trick for you and you cum all over his tongue. He smirks and groans as he feels your hot cum. He swallows it before coming back up to kiss you, and when you kiss him you taste yourself all over his lips and tongue.

"Your moans sound amazing, i want more out of you.." He says softly before going back down and sticking a finger inside of you making you moan loudly as you arch your back with your lips parted and your eyes magically shut as he pumps in and out of you. You moan loudly calling out his name as if he was a god.

And that was how you night ended. Feeling worshiped and cared about by the man you love most. But everyone else the next day had heard you being worshiped and you calling our Bellamy's name. An embarrassment but with a good outcome.

𝙨𝙪𝙢𝙢𝙚𝙧𝙩𝙞𝙢𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙙𝙣𝙚𝙨𝙨 🤍

ִֶָ𓂃 ࣪˖ ִֶָ🐇་༘࿐яєqυєѕт!

─────────⋆˚࿔ 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐜𝐪𝐬𝐚𝜗𝜚˚⋆─────────

[heartfullofleeches]

You may not rest. There are monsters nearby.

Yandere Entity + Doomsday Prepper Reader

Gender Neutral Reader. Light horror elements. Reader has severe paranoia.

-

It isn't safe up there anymore.

Even now. Sectioned off from the upper levels of your home in a coffin of your own making, you can still hear it. The scrapping. The whispers. Small instances you made the pitiful, careless error of mistaking as the odd creak of your bedroom door. Why hadn't you left when you had the chance? Your fears and doubts hounded you like a plague, yet - in earlier days - you willed yourself to believe the trick of sound was just that. Your sight was the only true you needed. If only you knew it was your very own two eyes that had deceived you from the start.

Precious hours, finances, and the pain of departure stranded you in this place. This was your house - your home. The safe zone you created to protect yourself from the world and everything in it that would ruin you. You were so caught up keeping every danger out, you knew bothered to check for ones that were already there - decades before you took your first breath. An ancient, rotting carcass; old as if not predating the foundation of the worn, but well kept house that felt like a steal at the time of purchase for the bring it was listed. It smells the decay from your flesh as you waste each day away afraid of the unknown and discovered the ideal candidate for its equal.

A mortal who frees the world that birthed it to the degree that you do is not meant for that reality in its eyes. You gave up everything to make their land a safe haven for yourself and now it is too late. Where else is safer for you than the arms of a being who would embrace what others consider a fault?

"Are you still down there, Y/n? Look, there's nothing here. I checked every nook and cranny of this place, but there's nothing to be afraid of besides that wasp's nest on your porch. Come on out, take a shower, and we'll get you something to eat- Sound like a plan?"

The blankets wrapped around your shivering body nearly suffocate you as you press them firmly against your face. Your close friend of several years. You would've believed it was them had they not kicked you out of their apartment after chunks of spoiled meat began appearing on their doorstep. It's trying to trick you again. It's done so before. Loved ones, figures of authority, even characters from shows you watched in the past - It won't stop at nothing until you open that basement door.

"Y/n? H-hey... It's me. We used to sit together and lunch sometimes? Your parents gave me your address, but when I got here I noticed your front door was open.. Are you okay in there? Are you even in there? Open the door so I know you're s- so I know you're alright."

The fatal flaw in its mimicry. That word - it makes the creature upset. In its eyes, you won't be safe until you submit and thus promising your safety while wearing a false face angers it. Its not like the high-school crush act would work on you anyway. You doubt it was a car accident that took their life, but the less you knew the better.

"It consumes. Swarms. Devours. The fears you let puppet your sweet flesh will tear away at your meat and leave nothing in its wake before any disaster takes you from this world. Allow us feast upon your pain. We will pluck it from your bones before there is nothing for it to cling onto. This house is your domain. Embrace it. Embrace us."

There is it. That....thing's real voice. The exhaustion latching onto every word matches the heavy weight of your eyelids as you fight to keep them awake. You know it can't get in, but you can't take the risk of falling asleep. You're tired. So very tired, but you can't rest now.

There's a monster nearby.

[yandere-daze]

Thank you everyone for the big support on the RE2 Leon post! I was honestly blown away by all the nice comments I got 🥺💕

And now I'm back for more ^^

Hope you enjoy!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, over-protectiveness, possessiveness, heavily implied murder, implied stalking, kidnapping, jealousy

General Yandere! RE4 Leon headcanons

Above all else, Yandere! RE4 Leon is very protective of you, the dearest person in his life. To a very unhealthy degree.

He has always been protective but a lot has changed since his first day as a rookie. Leon has seen a lot, he knows how truly horrifying and cruel the world can be. He knows what dangers lurk in the shadows, just waiting for an opportunity to strike and snatch away his beloved.

He doesn't want you to go through what he has. He wants you to be safe at all costs. He simply can't risk losing you, you're everything to him. You're what keeps him grounded, the one beacon of light in the darkness that threatens to consume him every day.

His many missions have broken him, Leon is not the same person he used to be and that too reflects in subtle changes in his yandere behaviour.

He remains very protective, insanely so, but it´s not quite in the same way as RE2 Leon was. He has become pretty jaded and that also translates to him being more merciless when it comes to shooting down anyone that could be perceived as a threat.

There´s no more slight hesitation before going through with killing someone and pulling the trigger, no deliberation, he won´t leave even a sliver of a chance of something hurting you and that extends to zombies, cultists, or rude strangers alike.

He still likes showing off in front of you, proving to you how capable and reliable he is, but he would rather avoid having you witness him getting rid of the latter ones.

He´s sure you won´t object to him getting rid of horrifying eldritch horrors but he fears your naivete won´t allow you to see the other dangers lurking right around the corner. People everywhere that are secretly out to hurt you. People that have bad intentions. People that try to get between the two of you.

He certainly won´t forgive that friend of yours that told you how "scary" Leon´s glare was whenever he looked at someone that wasn´t you. And isn´t it weird that he´s somehow always there whenever you´re in trouble? And they could have sworn they saw him standing outside your window back when you had your sleepover at your house...

Of course Leon couldn´t let this continue any longer. What if you started listening to them and tried to keep your distance? Leon couldn´t bear that. How is he supposed to make sure you´re safe if you won´t let him?

He knows he needs to do something about this so-called friend of yours. Maybe at first he will start "small" and simply start incriminating them for crimes they didn´t commit. It´s truly scary how little you know about your friends, right? Who would have thought that they would turn out to be a criminal?

Leon hopes that will be enough to make them stay away but if they´re particularly persistent... Well, he knows just how to deal with obstacles that are in his way. His position as a special agent gives him plenty of opportunities to make that person simply disappear from all records after mysteriously vanishing.

But don´t worry, Leon will be right by your side, holding you tight and mourning the loss of your friend right with you. It´s really so terrible what happened to them but at least you have him! And he won´t ever leave you.

Now of course, if you yourself were acting difficult, continuously getting yourself into danger, ignoring all of his advice ( don´t leave your house without him. always keep him updated on what you´re currently doing. never go on a date with a stranger..) or avoiding him in any way, Leon would feel forced to take some drastic measures to ensure that you´ll always remain safe and his alone.

While RE2 Leon would not have gone so far as to kidnap you, RE4 Leon absolutely would. It would not be his first choice but in this case, he feels like there is no other way. He would rather keep you locked up for the rest of your life than lose you. He just cannot bear ever having to live without you, now that he has found you.

You´re the only good thing in his life and he´ll be damned if he´ll let anything happen to you.

Of course he understands why you´re mad at him afterwards and it breaks his heart to see you upset with him, but he´ll suffer through it all in the hopes that you´ll one day understand why he had to do what he did.

He´s sure you will come around to him one day and then you´ll finally live the happy life he you both always wanted. In the meantime, he´ll treat you with gentle care ( well, as gentle as Leon can be. His displays of affection are still pretty awkward and stilted even though he tries very hard) and makes sure all your needs are met.

He´ll also let you get away with many things like screaming at him, ignoring him or backing away from his touch, as long as you don´t try to escape him. You may hate him at the moment, but at least nothing can get in here and hurt you while he´s constantly monitoring you.

Leon hopes that one day you´ll be able to move on from this and become a normal couple, but he doesn´t really mind having you all to himself with no prying eyes right now. He´s very possessive too and he´d just hate having to get rid of another stranger that looked at you a second too long for his tastes.

[archangeldyke-all]

Reader who crochets? And she makes these special sweaters with the left sleeve cut out for Sev’s arm?? Omg

-🥨

ANON did u see logan @sevikasenby 's crochet tapestry of our wife!?!?? THE TALENT IS BEYOND

men and minors dni

there's a superstition in the knitting/crocheting community called 'the sweater curse.' the idea is basically that when you hand make a prospective romantic partner a sweater, you doom the relationship to fail.

you've read countless horror stories on crocheting forums about relationships going up in flames once a sweater is gifted.

'she called the sweater ugly after i spent a month on it.'

'he thought a hand-made sweater was too intimate and i was moving too fast.'

'they left with no explanation the same day i bought the yarn for their sweater.'

you've seen it all.

you know that the curse is something to fear. and you really don't want to lose sevika. but she's stubborn.

sevika thinks the fact that you crochet is so. fucking. cool.

most people think it's a grandma hobby.

sevika thinks it's the most impressive thing in the world. you can make anything. she's watched you knit blankets, sweaters, tops and socks. little stuffies for the neighbor kid next door, hats for your friends' birthdays. mug cozies, coasters, pillow cases and dog clothes-- she's seen you make it all.

and she's dying to have you make her something.

"don't you love me?" sevika whines one night as she cuddles in bed beside you while you crochet a scarf.

"can't stand you, actually." you grunt, already knowing what she's about to bother you about. she huffs.

"you don't understand baby. i was sooo cold at work today-- freezing, really-- and it's not like i can go buy a sweater 'cause of my ar--"

"you're so fucking annoying." you groan. sevika chuckles.

"is it so bad to want to show off my baby's work?" she asks. you huff, shaking your head.

"it is when it means we'll break up!"

she wears you down over time.

you start crocheting her little things, wanting her to feel loved but not wanting to subject the two of you to the curse.

you crochet her a little keychain charm on your anniversary; a hat for winter solstice. in the spring, you make her a few new scrunchies for her half-ponytails.

for her birthday, you give her the first big crochet project you've made for her: a purple poncho in a thick, warm yarn, perfect for the colder windy days when her thin red poncho isn't enough.

she cries when you show it to her. (she nearly gets heat stroke a week later when she tries to wear her new winter poncho on a blazing hot day.)

when you propose to her (kneeling in front of her where she sits on the couch kissing her hands, metal and flesh alike, as you bat your eyelashes at her,) sevika doesn't even let you finish the question before she's pulling you off the ground and into her lap, kissing you breathless, and pulling away with a sob. "yes!"

"you didn't even let me ask!" you laugh. sevika kisses you again.

"you have to crochet me a sweater now. make it white, i'll wear it to our wedding." she cries.

you don't do that. (though you do crochet the neck tie she wears on your big day.)

you wait until you've been married for a year, until you're settled in married life and comfortable, until sevika's not expecting it anymore.

and then, on the night of your first wedding anniversary, you give sevika her first sweater.

it's the most intricate thing you've ever made. the cable crochet pattern you used was complex and time consuming, but it looks fucking gorgeous. beautiful royal purple-- her favorite color-- her exact measurements, and sleevless on the left side.

sevika wears the sweater everywhere. all the time. whenever she can.

you only planned on making her the one, but her reaction (and the wear and tear the sweater receives from being worn by the scary woman of zaun) inspires you.

you knit her a new sweater, every year, for the rest of your lives.

taglist!

@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner

@shimtarofstupidity @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther

@ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai

@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @realgreeniebeanie @k3n-dyll

@sevsdollette @ellieslob

[blankwashed]

PART 1 PART 2 IS HERE!

Satoru Gojo (role play, praise kink, katoptronophilia)

Satoru looooves to role-play, even when the both of you aren’t having sex. Why? Because having the pressure of the world on your shoulders is not something anyone likes. This was an idea suggested by you when you first saw him stressed. At first, it didn’t have anything to do with sex but you thought, hey, why not. Surprisingly, Satoru accepted your idea.

Ah yes, of course Satoru has a praise kink. The man himself gets pleasure whenever he hears praises from you. “Such a big cock, daddy” “Your fingers give me so much pleasure, Toru”. He has this kink ever since he was born but only sexually when he met you.

Katoptronophilia. Similar to the second kink, he loves himself. Whenever you’re away or on a night out with your friends, Satoru would sit in front of the mirror, looking at himself while jacking off. Hands around his own neck, choking himself as if it were you. But when he cums, he strangely will moan his own name.

Nanami Kento (melolagnia, praise kink, breeding kink)

Kento definitely is triggered sexually by music. Listening to jazz and R&B are his favourite whenever he's with you. Frank Sinatra and Billie Holiday are his go-to choices while fingering you with his thick and calloused fingers.

It's clear as day that Kento has a praise kink. It makes all the difference when you're his boss. "Such a good report, Kento." "You deserve a promotion, Kento.". Totally gives him a boner when you say it.

Daddy Kento would surely have a breeding kink, in my opinion. The way he leads his workmates already shows his natural dominance and protectiveness. He would risk his life for them without a second thought, displaying a level of commitment that is undeniably attractive. You can picture him, strong and commanding, taking control in the bedroom with the same intensity. The very thought of him, his firm hands on your hips, his deep voice promising to breed you, ignites a fire within you. The way he moves, the way he looks at you, everything about him screams power and control, making you crave his touch, his attention, his love. Suguru Geto (breeding kink, group sex, dirty talk)

Suguru's breeding kink stems from his desire for control. The thought of his partner carrying his child excites him, a way where his dominance is shown.

Whenever Sugu has group sex, all he thinks about is control and exhibiting dominance. He would be in command and be satisfied by others. He wants to be in control of your pleasure. "Do as I say" or "You're mine to use" are some of the phrases he would say while he sees how wet you've become.

He would surely be into dirty talk. Sex doesn't have to always be in the bedroom for him. Raunchy texts and photos that he sends to you would assist you in getting off. Choso Kamo (blood play, protection kink, vore)

Choso would use his power to manipulate blood to enhance intimacy and control in various ways. His ability to control blood could be used to create intense, unique sensations during intimate moments.

We all know that Choso is very protective over his siblings. The act of safeguarding someone would heighten his arousal, making him feel powerful and needed. He would say "trust me, princess” or "i'll make you feel good" whenever your anxiety kicks you on the bed.

The idea of consuming or being consumed, of holding life and power within himself. Usually, Choso would be a softie, a blank canvas so this fetish taps into his intense desire for intimacy and control. He gets off with the concepts of protection and possession Toji Fushiguro (gagging, dd/lg, money kink)

It's clear as day that this man has a gag kink. If you don't think so, then I don't know which Toji Fushiguro we're talking about. BUT, he definitely shows his s/o tons of love and care. Everything is consensual but who wouldn't want Toji to wrap his big hands around their neck?

This is pretty cliche but the man loves power. It doesn't matter what kind of fantasy we're talking about but there's no doubt that he wants you to be his little. Or a switch. "ride daddy just like that, slut" or "how's this feel, princess?"

AH OF COURSE, money. Imagine this, you coming home from work with your pay in hand. The whiff of money would remind him of the times when he was broke and desperate for it. His eyes would darken with a mix of hunger and nostalgia, a reminder of the struggles he faced. The sight of you holding the cash would ignite something primal in him, a desire to reclaim those moments, but this time with power and control. The both of you would role-play as a thief and victim to spice things up.

[writtenbymisunderstoodnerds]

Falling in love again (Christen Press x Reader)

Writers block is being a pain at the moment so sorry it's been a while since I posted. I'll be back to trying to write my list of requests in a few weeks when I'm back from holiday. This wasn't requested, just a random idea and probably not very good but I hope you like it!

Warnings: Death of a partner, grief. If you find anything else let me know and I'll add it!

Words: 4.3K

---

Almost two years had passed since I lost my person. The person I thought I would spend my life with, the person I loved more than I thought it was possible to love someone. Life was cruel like that, giving you a person who understood you, who loved you so deeply, only to rip it away in the worst way possible. The day the phone call came, telling me Talia had been in an accident that claimed her life was a blur. Honestly, at times it still felt like a dream. The overwhelming grief, disbelief and fear I felt that day still ever present if I thought back to it. 

I had almost quit soccer for good after that, but I knew she wouldn't want me too. Talia loved watching me play, she knew how much I loved it, always encouraging me and supporting me in everything I did. So I kept going, every game I played, I played for her. The grief had faded since then. It was always there, it always would be, some days were worse than others, but it was bearable. It didn't consume me like it once had.   

One of the things Talia used to love was colouring in my tattoos. Not that I would have admitted it to her, but once we started dating, my new tattoos were purely designed so she could colour them. Our spare time was often spent with her colouring them while I drew or did random stuff. It was something I found myself doing often, especially when I was missing her.

Someone sat down next to me as I slowly coloured in one of the many tattoos scattered over my body. I didn't pay them much attention, continuing colouring, "What are you doing?"

I shrugged, not looking up at Emily, "Colouring."

"Is she colouring in her tattoos again?" Kelley asked sitting across from us.

"Yup, we really need to get her paper or a colouring book."

"Have you ever noticed even when there's paper around she still does it? Look at how comfortable and peaceful she looks. It's like a built in stress relief." I fought the urge to chuckle at how they talked as if I wasn't there. To be fair I was only half listening. 

"Why do you colour in your tattoos?"

I sighed, putting down the pen. The team had been bugging me for months now about it. These were some of the people I trusted most in the world, there was no reason to keep hiding it from them. "It reminds me of my wife. She would sit there for hours colouring in my tattoos while I drew. It became sort of a routine."

"You're married? You don't wear a ring."

I pulled the chain around my neck that held a simple black band and a silver band with a line of diamonds. "Mine and hers," I took a deep breath trying to control my emotions, "She died almost 2 years ago, I only take it off for games."

"God Y/n, I'm so sorry," Ali said, pulling me in for a quick hug.

Alex was the next to pull me into a tight hug, "How come we never knew? We've known you longer then two years?"

"No one knew except our close friends and family. At the time we weren't as close as we are now and I guess I couldn't bring myself to mention it after. We never specifically hid it, just didn't put it out there. She never wanted to the world to know who she was. Never wanted who she was with to impact her kids."

"She had kids?"

"She was a teacher at a school for kids with disabilities. They meant the world to her, she would do anything for them. It was always a worry that her suddenly being known would affect her job in some way."

"It sounds like she was an amazing person. I'm sad we never got to meet her."

"You did, you just never knew who she was to me."

"Talia? I remember you mentioning that she passed away and that's why you took that break," Alyssa asked.

"Yup, we had been married 4 years the day you met her."

"That's why you completely disappeared that day then wouldn't tell us why."

A small smile appeared on my face remembering that day. We had booked a hotel room, ordered way to much room service, gave each other massages, then had a bath and watched movies. It was simple, but one of my favourite nights besides the day we got married, "She had flown in that weekend just so we could celebrate our anniversary. We never spent one apart."

---

Christen sat down on her bed, staring up at me for a second before speaking, "That's why you turn everyone down when they ask you out? Including me."

There had been many people over the years that had asked me on dates, all being turned down for obvious reasons. Christen had been one of them though, about a year after Talia passed. Besides Talia, Christen was the only person I could actually see myself with if I ever got to a point where I felt ready. That wasn't now, but part of me hoped it would happen soon. Despite the guilt and grief that was there, I wanted the chance to be happy again with someone. We had talked about it a few times and neither of us wanted the other to hold on for too long. Talia would want me to be happy, to move on and one day, when the time was right, I would.

I sighed sitting down next to Christen. Sitting or lying on the others bed was a pretty common occurrence when we roomed together. "You know I know she would want me to be happy, but every time I even think about starting to date again, it feels like I'm betraying her. Like if I start something, I'll forget her."

"You'll never forget her. No matter what you're doing or who you're with, she will always be in your heart. She'll always be your person, but you can love someone else while still loving her just as much as you always have. It's not one or the other and if the next person doesn't understand that then they aren't worth the time. There's no rush to move on."

"Thanks Chris. Out of all the people that have asked me out, you're the only one I thought about saying yes to. I'm sorry I wasn't ready."

Christen placed her hand on my knee, squeezing gently. Something that always seemed to make me feel peace. "Don't be. I always knew there was a slim chance of you saying yes and I accepted that. I was just happy that it didn't change our friendship."

"Would you still be open to that date? Not right now, but sometime in the near future."

"Of course I would. There's no rush or pressure though Y/n/n, whenever you're ready, I'm ready. And if you're never ready that's okay too."

--- Today was two years since Talia was taken. Of course it was game day. When I realised the date it was like a weight was sitting on my chest. Christen was still asleep so I slipped quietly into the bathroom to shower and let the tears out. I had originally been thinking about pulling out of the game, but after my shower I was actually feeling okay to play. I was determined to win for her. 

The final whistle blew as I clung onto whoever was closest, my knees trying to give out on me. The rush of emotions I felt was not what I expected. Happiness, relief, grief all rushing through me as I tried to hold it together in front of everyone. Letting my emotions show in front of friends or family was hard enough, I didn't need that happening in front of the fans. 

I managed to hold it together enough to greet the fans before we made our way to the locker room. As I put the necklace back on, I broke. Tears silently streaming down my cheeks before a sob forced it's way out. Instantly, Ali's arms wrapped around me tightly as I sobbed into her shoulder. I didn't like crying in front of people, but there was no stopping it. So for once, I just let it out with the comfort of the people I trusted most. 

Once I had calmed down, Ali finally spoke up, "What's going on Y/n/n?"

"I-it's been 2 years sin-since- I'm sorry."

Ali's arms tightened as another hand squeezed mine, "Never apologise for feeling how you feel. You can always feel how you feel with us. We've got you always."

We spent longer in the locker room than we normally would as the girls took turns comforting me and making sure I was okay before we left. After dinner, most of the team ended up in one of the rooms for team bonding. There were quite a few questions about Talia, normally I didn't talk about her much because of the emotions it brings up, but everyone seemed genuinely interested in her.  Also, talking about her was actually quite therapeutic.  

Even though it was therapeutic, talking about Talia still brought up emotions so I had found myself cuddled up with Ali for comfort. I had almost went to Christen for comfort, but the guilt had started to creep in again making me decide against it.

"How old were you when you got married? It must have been quite young," Tierna asked.  

"We were. We started dating at 19, married at 23.  Possibly too young in some peoples opinions, but at the time we just got the idea in our heads and went with it. I proposed and 2 months later we were married. My time with Talia was incredible, it was fun and low maintenance. We met in college when we both didn't have a lot of money, most of our dates in our first few years were picnics, walks or movie nights. 

I mean our first anniversary, we made each other homemade cards. Talia got me marshmallows because I was obsessed with them at the time and I got her chocolate and gummy bears. We ended up at the beach, making smores before going back to my apartment and making pasta for dinner. To this day that was probably one one of my favourites. Talia never cared about fancy or expensive things, that never changed the further I got in my professional career or as our money situation changed. She was just happy if we were together."

I knew I was rambling, but I couldn't help myself. Talking about Talia before I lost her was one of my favourite things. The girls didn't seem to mind though as everyone's attention seemed to be completely on me. "She sounds like she was an incredible person."

"She was. I think she would have gotten along with all of you. Especially Emily and Kelley. Talia loved pranks and just being annoying. She wrapped up a carrot and gave it to me more than once, she would pull little pranks all the time or poke and prod at me constantly."

Later that night, Christen got my attention as I slipped into my bed, "Hey, you doing okay? I know today was hard."

"It was, but I'm feeling okay right now. I think talking about her helped. I've never really let myself because of the emotions it brings up. Turns out it's quite freeing to talk about her."

"The team would agree, it was nice to hear about her. I can see how much you love her."

"It's uh not weird for you is it?"

"No. Y/n, she was your wife, you love her, you always will. I know that. If we were to eventually get to a point past friendship, I would never expect anything else. You can talk to me about her whenever you want and I don't want you to feel bad about it."

"Thank you Chris. I don't want you to think I'm leading you on or anything. I have every intention of asking you on a date, I just need a bit of time."

"Hey, I don't think that at all. Like I said, there is no rush, there's no expectations."

---

It had been about six months since mine and Christen's initial conversation. I was finally feeling like I was ready to try dating again, all I had to do was ask. It had taken longer than I thought it would and a part of me was thinking that Christen would have lost interest by now or just didn't want to deal with my past. A part of me was tempted to not ask, to save myself from rejection, but I also knew there was no way to know unless I asked. 

"So."

"So?"

I took a deep breath, trying to clear some of the nerves that had been building. I had never asked one out let alone dated anyone else besides Talia. Christen sent me a small smile, the nerves melting away when I saw the adoration in her eyes. "Will you go on a date with me Chris?"

"You're ready for that?"

"I think so, I've been thinking about it a lot recently. It's just this is something I haven't done with anyone besides Talia so I might not be perfect or even close to it, but I'll try."

"I would love to Y/n. Just tell me if we go on this date and you realise you're not ready. I'll understand. You also don't have to be perfect, we'll figure this out as we go okay?"

"Thank you Chris. I'll pick you up at 6?"

"We're sharing a room."

"I'm going to get ready in Ali and Alex's room, that way I can pick you up."

"And they say chivalry is dead." 

---

Trying to plan a date was so far out of my comfort zone that I didn't even know where to start. Of course I had been on many dates with Talia, but that was different. It had been 10 or so years since my first and only first date. I knew Talia like the back of my hand, I knew what she liked, where she liked to go. Christen on the other hand, I knew her, but to a far lesser extent which was making me overthink. What if she didn't like what I planned? What if I did too much or not enough? 

Before I could continue to spiral, I decided to enlist the help of Tobin. Normally I would go to Ali, but Tobin was Christens bestfriend. 

"You okay Y/n?"

"No. Well yes but also no. Christen and I are going on a date tonight and I'm freaking out. I cannot for the life of me decide what to do. Every time something comes to mind, I convince myself that it's not enough. Chris will be the second person I've ever taken on a date, it needs to be perfect."

Tobin led me to sit on the bed as I had started to pace across the room. "Don't tell her I told you, but Chris doesn't care what you do, she's just happy to go out with you. Tell me your ideas?"

"I know she likes parks or gardens, beaches, picnics, museums, that sort of thing. There's not a beach around otherwise I would take her there and it'll be too late to take her to the museum but I found a nice park the other day. It has a lake and there were heaps of like lights and stuff. Was thinking picking up some takeaway and other bits to have a picnic at the park, but it doesn't seem like enough."

"Y/n, that is perfect. I know this is pretty much completely new to you, but you just need to try relax a little bit. You know Chris, she's your friend, you know what she likes. She's going to love a picnic in the park, maybe a walk around after."

"Thank you Tobs."

"Hey Y/n?"

"Yeah?"

"Chris is going into this knowing there's a chance you realise you're not ready and she'll understand that, everyone will. There'll be no hard feelings or anything. Just if that happens, please tell her sooner rather than later. I know you won't do it on purpose, but I don't want her to get her hopes up."

"I will. This wasn't a decision I made lightly, I feel ready and I'm really hoping I am. I admit, it does feel a bit weird, but I really like her Tobin. The last thing I want to do is hurt her."

Tobin smiled slightly, pulling me into a quick hug, "I know and so does Chris. Just take it one step at a time, you don't need to rush anything or do anything that doesn't feel right."

After one last hug I made my way to the door, "Thanks Tobs, I should go get ready before I make myself late."

Before heading back to my room, I ran down to the shop to get a few things. Picking out what to buy took longer than it should have. Everything I thought about buying, I ended up second guessing if Christen actually liked it. Time was running out though so I ended up picking out some wine I thought she liked and some other picnic type things.

Despite almost making myself late, I knocked on the door at exactly 6 pm, trying my best to push down the nerves. Tobin was right, Christen was my friend, I knew she didn't expect or even really like some fancy date. There was no real reason to be this nervous. Part of it was probably because of how new it was, part of me was second guessing if I was truly ready for this, but I think that was due to nerves and not wanting to hurt Christen. Another part was because it was Christen. Gorgeous, kind, thoughtful Christen. Anyone in their right mind would be nervous to be going on a date with her. 

"Hi Y/n/n."

"Hi."

Christen smiled, kissing my cheek softly, "You okay?" 

"A bit nervous, but I'm okay. You ready to go?"

We made our way out of the hotel, stopping to pick up takeaway before starting the ten minute walk to the park. Christen didn't ask about what we were doing, instead making random conversation. Knowing I was nervous, I had a feeling she was doing it on purpose to try calm me down. It was definitely working, my nerves were fading away the longer we talked and I wasn't thinking so much about if it was enough. Instead, I was letting myself be excited about it. 

When we got to the park, Christens eyes lit up as she looked around. I found a nice spot by the lake, spreading everything out on the blanket as Christen got comfortable. "How'd you find this place? It's beautiful."

"I stumbled upon it when I went for a walk the other night."

"You went for a walk, alone at night?"

"Maybe not my best idea, but I needed to clear my head away from our room, away from the hotel."

Concern covered Christens face as she straightened slightly, "Away from our room? Was I doing something wrong?"

"No, no you didn't do anything. I was trying to figure out if I asked you out or not. I guess I was worried that I had left it too long and maybe you weren't interested anymore. I also felt a bit guilty, making you wait so long. It seems unfair to you. Got in my head about it I guess. If you can't tell, I'm a bit of an overthinker sometimes."

"Well I'm glad you did. This wasn't unfair to me, I promise. You were honest about everything Y/n, you didn't give me false hope or lie to me. That was all I could ask of you. Are you feeling okay about this?"

"I am. Honestly, it feels a little bit weird which maybe you don't want to hear, but I'm really having a good time."

Christen smiled, taking my hand gently, "Look, I don't get how it feels, but I will never dismiss anything you're feeling. You can always talk to me about it. It's okay for it to feel weird because it probably is for you, I don't take offence to that."

"Thank you. Now lets eat before it gets cold."

We spent the next couple of hours talking about anything we could think of. There had never been anyone but Talia that I could talk to so comfortably without running out of things to talk about. That was until Christen came along. Long before there were any feelings, there had always been something about her that made me feel comfortable talking to her about things. Now I craved the conversations I could have with her. I wanted to get to know her more, from the mundane to the personal. 

Conversation continued as we walked around the park hand in hand then back to the hotel when it started to get late. The nerves had long faded by now, instead being replaced by giddiness and maybe butterflies. Going on a date with Christen felt right. Despite the lingering guilt, I knew Talia would approve. I knew that out of anyone to move on with she would have chosen Christen for me. That in itself brought a sense of peace. 

---

Christen slipped under the blankets on her bed, pulling me down with her. I laughed as she wrapped her arms around my shoulders, mumbling something about wanting cuddles. Pulling her closer, I left a soft kiss against her forehead before speaking. "You want me to sleep in your bed tonight?" 

Christen just nodded. We had just got back from our fifth date in two weeks. They could have been spaced out since we lived in the same city, but I felt like a smitten teenager again. Instead of the nerves that plagued me for our first date, I was excited about the dates. Maybe to some it was too many too quick, but I didn't care and Christen didn't seem to either.

Despite the amount of dates we had been on, we were planning on taking things slow. It was my idea to take it slow as this was something I hadn't done in a long time. We had kissed for the first time at the end of the last one, but even though we were rooming together, we hadn't slept in the same bed yet.

"That can be arranged, but I need to get changed and brush my teeth." She groaned dramatically, but let me go with a pout. After completing my nightly routine, I took my necklace off, putting it next to the bed. It felt unfair to Christen to be sleeping in the same bed as her while still wearing my wife's ring.

"What are you doing?"

"Taking it off."

"Because you want to or because you feel you have to?" I just shrugged, Christen stood up, grabbing the necklace and putting it back around my neck before her arms wrapped around my waist from behind. "I will never make you take this off. I never want you to feel like you have to for me okay? You will always love her and that's okay. It doesn't mean you can't have that love for someone else as well."

I nodded leaning back into her. One of my biggest fears with dating someone new was that they wouldn't understand or get mad at the fact that I will always be in love with someone else. That person just happened to not be here anymore. It was scary that I already felt myself falling for Christen, she was just such a beautiful person, inside and out. I don't think I could stop myself from falling even if I wanted to.

---

Christen and I were lying on my bed as the movie credits started to play. We were supposed to go out, but I wasn't feeling up to it. Talia's birthday was in a few days and I had been thinking about her a lot. No matter how much time passed, I still missed her just as much. I was feeling somewhat guilty about the new realisation that I was in love with Christen, like I was being unfaithful to Talia. I felt guilty a lot when Christen and I first started dating. It had mostly faded over the 6 months we had been together, though it always got worse near dates to do with Talia. I just had to keep reminding myself that there was nothing to feel guilty about and that she would be happy for me.

"I hope she's proud of me," I stated quietly, mostly to myself.

Christen turned her head slightly, "Maybe I didn't know her very well, but I know she is. You've come so far in your life and career. You are an amazing person, anyone would be proud of you."

"Sometimes I wish I could have one last conversation with her. See what she thinks of my life, where I am, who I'm with. I still talk to her sometimes, almost expecting a response, but of course it'll never come."

Her fingers laced with mine, squeezing slightly, "I'm sure she's listening and she's happy that you're living the life you want. That's what the people who love us should want for us."

I rolled over so I could look at her properly, brushing a piece of hair out of her face, "Have I ever thanked you? For letting me talk about her, for understanding that me loving her doesn't take away from what I feel for you, for always being there for me on days like our anniversary, or her birthday or the anniversary of her death. It's something I am forever grateful for Chris."

"I will always do all of those things, you don't ever need to thank me. I love you Y/n, I'll always be there for you no matter what."

"Y-you love me?"

"I do. You don't have to say it back, I just wanted you to know."

I kissed her softly, trying to show everything I was feeling, "I love you Chris."

[sturnsdc]

ART CLASS AU!

pair: Carl Grimes x fem!reader

synopsis: Yn has feelings for her classmate, Carl, but she never does anything about it. However, things seem to work in her favor when they have to work on a project together for the art class.

warnings: no TWD scenes, just fluff, slight angst, somewhat obsessive behavior ??

words: 2,4k

A/N: to make the narration clearer: at all times, Yn is writing in her diary, which is why at times she will speak about Carl, and at other times it may seem like she’s speaking directly to him (but she’s not)!! For the most part, it’s just a bunch of fragments from her diary, as she explains a bit at the end.

this came to my mind suddenly; i apologize for it being so short.

the words in italics are the lyrics of the song !!

dividers from: @cafekitsune ! ♡

main masterlist carl masterlist

YN´S POV

you look pretty good today

is it me or did you shave?

sometimes i wonder if it's normal, if it's real. With each passing day, he seems to become more handsome, and like a magnet, he keeps drawing my gaze again and again. It feels like i can't control it.

i notice when he wears a new shirt, or when he’s wearing the same pants from a few days ago. I notice when he forgets something, when he’s focused, or when he gets distracted.

i just can’t stop noticing him.

good, you've been looking at me twice as more

so i can see your face

when we make eye contact, i feel like i’m going to die. My heart races, my cheeks turn red, my hands sweat, and i stop breathing. Even my stomach tightens, my whole body tenses up. The first time it happened, i thought i was having an attack.

secretly, i enjoy it because when i feel his gaze, i have an excuse to turn my head, look at him, and smile. I don’t even know where i find the courage, but he smiles back at me, with tight lips, then looks away after a few seconds.

my friends told me not to overthink it, that maybe i’m just misinterpreting things. They say if “i keep analyzing every time we make eye contact”, i’ll end up falling for him, and then he’ll break my heart by not feeling the same way.

you sit across from me in the classroom

but do you even know my name?

then i tried to avoid him. He probably doesn’t even know who i am. Does he even know my name? i doubt it; they hardly ever say it out loud in class. I don’t even know everyone else’s names.

but then everything seems to align, and the teacher walks to that side of the room while giving the lesson, as if she knows i’m following her with my eyes. And there he is, on the other side of the classroom, in his plaid shirt and with those pretty eyes, taking notes on everything she’s saying… while i lose my breath and forget what i was listening to.

Carl... i do know your name.

if you want to ask me how i am

don't hesitate

it was a couple of days after the teacher announced the final project. The art class would have to hold a fair, showcasing our own works, from paintings to ceramics. It had to be in pairs, but we couldn’t pick our usual partners. We had to step out of our bubbles and take a risk.

i thought about him, but my embarrassment consumed me, so i let the days pass. And just two days before the next class, i ran into him in the hallway. He seemed surprised. His blue eyes looked at me in a strange way, almost like he was unsure of something. Then he made a move to come closer, and i started to get nervous.

he did it; i didn’t expect him to. He spoke to me, asked if we could pair up, and all i could do was say yes, with a dazed look and stumbling over my words. Then he smiled, like i’d never seen him smile before. His face lit up, and he walked away, happy.

did i do the right thing? how am i gonna focus if i could barely even speak to him?

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

i have to admit, Carl Grimes is a special guy. I can’t stop thinking about him, about the little details i’ve noticed, about the brief interactions we’ve had. It’s like my world is starting to revolve around him.

he’s a gentleman—so masculine yet so gentle. He speaks to me with such care, even though i’ve seen him outside of class, joking roughly and arguing with his friends. He’s the complete opposite.

i like this side of him, when he focuses all his attention on me, asks for my opinion, and smiles at me. I haven’t seen him talk like that with anyone else. 

should i get my hopes up?

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

we started talking about the project.

he’s so smart, coming up with amazing ideas, and i stress over not knowing which one to choose. however, he doesn’t seem worried; he waits for my answer patiently, as if we had all the time in the world, which isn’t true since we have to submit the work plan by the end of the class. but he doesn’t pressure me—he asks for my opinion on each idea and helps me weigh the pros and cons.

we chose one together, and then i started writing our plan.

but… something… feels off. We keep making eye contact, and i smile like a fool, watching as he does the same. Is this really happening? i feel like we’re in a bubble. time no longer exists, air isn’t even necessary—just us.

and then i find myself hoping that he feels the same, because i love how it feels to talk to him, to be the center of his attention, even if just for a moment.

an art class

an art class

art class used to be my escape from other subjects, a room where i felt safe. Then i saw him, and it became more than just that. Thinking about art class sends tingles through my body and instantly puts a smile on my face. My heart races like crazy, and i’m filled with excitement. And it’s all because of him.

now, art class has become something that makes me genuinely happy, motivating me to go to school.

even with the project, i’ve never been this excited to work on an assignment before, but now that i’m at his house, meeting his dad and his sister, and then heading to his room to start working on our project… i feel like i love classwork.

why do you always stick to smiling

and sit still being so quiet?

i feel like he's in the hallways more often now, because i see him every day. Sometimes i'm just turning a corner, and there he is, with his group of friends, laughing and being the smiley guy i used to see only once in a while. 

he's everywhere, all the time. What's going on?

now it's impossible not to notice him, because he's always there. Sometimes i don't even have to see him, because i can hear his laugh, or his friends', and i know we’re in the same place. 

how can he be so loud, but so damn quiet in class? i don’t get it.

it's like a completely different version of him, but i don't mind at all, it's just... weird. 

i've been pretty distracted for some days

and it's ruining my diet

the days go by, and each time i get to know him more and more. He's amazing, funny, super smart, mature, and adorable. I've also gotten to know his family better, and i understand more where that calm and controlled side he shows in class comes from.

everything seems wonderful, and i know my feelings are only growing with each passing minute, but he's starting to occupy my mind all the time, and that's becoming a problem.

my friends talk during lunch, but all i can think about is our conversation from the day before, when we got sidetracked from the project, and he started explaining the story of one of his comics. I can remember how his eyes lit up as he told me about it, and i just kept asking questions, even though i already knew the stories. I love the passion with which he spoke about it. I remember his tone of voice, the way he moved his head, and how his eyes looked at me so attentively. I recall almost every word, but then, when my mind is at its peak, i see my friends getting up from their seats, looking at me with puzzled and concerned faces.

lunch ended, and i didn’t even touch my food.

Carl Grimes, i need to figure this out soon.

if you don't take the hint already

i'm afraid i'll start a riot

i’m trying to figure out if it’s just me, Carl, but i really don’t understand—do you look at me the way i look at you?

now i try to avoid looking at you if i don’t have to, but then i feel a constant gaze, and when i turn my head, there you are, trying to look away as quickly as you can. Am i imagining this?

i feel the frustration building inside me, Carl. I need to know.

today, i try wearing different clothes, the ones i save in my closet for occasions outside of class, the ones i wear when i feel confident. But this time, i don’t feel that way. This time, i’m scared. I want you to notice. I want to know if you care, if you’ll say something.

'cause you make my whole world go crazy

yeah, your smell just sends me flying

and you did, Carl. You told me i looked good, then you got nervous and said i always look good, just that this time i looked different. If you only knew how much that meant to me.

since then, days have gone by, and i feel like you’re paying more attention to me— or have you always done that and i’m just now noticing?

you also started wearing a new cologne; it’s stronger and lingers in the air when you pass by me. Is that on purpose? now i can’t stop thinking about how good you smell, and that alone is enough to keep me floating, my mind in paradise, thinking about how much i like you.

'cause you're my cru-cru-crush

and i like you very much

today i told my friends how i feel about you. They looked at me with pity and talked to me like i was a little girl. They say you don’t feel the same, that i’m imagining everything, and that i’ll end up hurt if i keep this up.

am i really that out of my mind? they say i’m obsessed, that i’m seeing things where there aren’t any.

but they were the ones who told me the first time you looked back at me.

and i'd appreciate if you'd like me back

but it's okay 'cause you make my heart

i've spent some nights crying, and now i’m trying to avoid you. It's so hard when we still have to keep working on the damn project.

i’m scared of getting my hopes up. I started this on my own. you’re not to blame, but now i wish i didn’t have to see you for a couple of weeks.

an art class

an art class

and yet, that day of the week arrives, and along with the anxiety, i can feel the excitement trying to break free. My heart races, my hands sweat, and i can’t catch my breath.

“art class,” says the sign on the door, and just that is enough to shake my entire world and bring back the feelings i’m trying to ignore.

all my days

been trying to find a reason to stay

i keep hearing my friends' words every time i see you, and now i feel guilt, embarrassment, and a horrible pain in my chest that settles in my heart, right next to the happiness you bring me. It makes me feel sick and confused.

you've asked me a couple of times if i'm okay, but how could i answer you with the truth?

say my name

and i'll go ahead and pick a date

i'm okay

if you understand that this is fate

the day of the exhibition arrived, and i’m nervous, and you notice it, so you take my hand and smile at me. You told me everything would be fine, that we did great, and that we would do really well.

you were right. Of course you were...

we spent the whole day there, answering questions and receiving compliments. We really did a good job, and everyone keeps saying that.

now i feel exhausted. All day i had to manage my emotions—the mix of anxiety, the pain in my chest, happiness, satisfaction... and love, the damn love. I feel like handling all that drained me more than talking to so many people and repeating the same words over and over.

finally, we can leave, but then you take my hand again and make me look at you. This time you look more serious, and i start to get scared, but you don’t say anything bad.

“i’m going to be honest, Yn, i loved working with you on this and getting to know you better. Since i saw you in class, something about you caught my attention, but i didn’t know how to approach you. This was the perfect opportunity, and i took it. I understand if you don’t feel the same way i do, but if you do... i’d like to get to know you more and see what can come of this.” that’s what you said, your face blushing and your eyes looking everywhere but at me.

if you only knew that when i got home, i cried, feeling so happy, kicking my legs on the bed like a tv character, and squealing into my pillow so no one would hear me. with my face red and a huge smile.

now we’re going on a date, and i just hope this turns out well.

Carl Grimes, what have you done to me?

art class

art class

i don’t even know when i started smiling, but i finished reading aloud and looked around. Carl, beside me, was smiling widely, and our two little ones had tears in their eyes; apparently, they were moved by the story of how it all began.

i recently found my diary from when i was a teenager, and i told Carl about it in front of the girls, and they both begged me to read it to them. Of course, i paused at the perfect part, at the true beginning of our relationship, but within those pages is everything, including the story of our first time and countless anecdotes from our school days.

i will always be grateful for that class because that’s how i got to know the man who makes me happy.

Carl Grimes is more than my words can describe, but i think i did a good job explaining how i fell for him.

who would have thought that a couple of years later, this would be our life?

in the end, maybe it was part of our destiny.

taglist: @jamiesturniolo

[fandoms--fluff]

Hi I was wondering if you could do a Damon x teenage reader but the reader sees Damon as a sorta father figure

Enough

Female teen Gilbert reader x Damon Salvatore

Warnings: bullying, ed, cutting, I think that's all

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You're sat on his bathroom floor, thinking. Just two weeks ago you got back from Denver. Being compelled to move there because of your big sister, Elena, is one of the worst things that's ever happened to you. You were miserable there. The empty feeling after being forced to leave Mystic Falls never went away for those long months your and Jeremy were there for.

Your anxiety went through the roof, not being familiar with the place. And having to make new friends and meet new people.

But the worst was the bullying.

The kids at the high school there were cruel. They took one look at you on your first day and by lunch there were horrible rumors about you going around. Which you obviously hadn't told Jeremy about, not wanting him to worry about you or bother him with something as stupid as that.

The boys would come up to you, pretending to be interested, but then burst out laughing with their friends who were behind them when you looked even mildly interested in them.

The girls were the worst yet. Especially the one friend group of nine. They would come up to you in the hallway, during classes, during lunch, and even after school. They'd harass you, talk about your dead parents that has somehow gotten out, pretend to feel pity towards you, basically anything to make you rethink your existence.

They even made fun of your weight for a straight week, and the body you once loved, became something you hate. You hadn't consumed anything but water and maybe an apple here and there, just so no one would question anything. It wasn't until Jeremy brought up how pale you looked and started watching you more carefully at meal times did you start to eat more consistently.

But only a bit. Not enough a fifteen year old girl should eat per day.

Damon had fed you some of his blood yesterday. You had gotten hurt from one of the last remaining hybrids. The hybrid tried to suck you dry, but Damon had showed up in time to get you out of there and healed the bite mark and bruises on you.

You looked down at your wrists where there were cuts just a second ago before they healed, a razor laying on the ground in front of you. The blade littered with your blood and a couple drops on the floor underneath. 

The blood must've been still on your system.

Again you picked the razor up and slid it across your wrist and fore arm causing a deep scratch releasing some blood. You kept on repeating this action before switching to the other wrist. 

You had started cutting your wrists when you had gotten back, not knowing what to feel, and what to think is true or not. Always gave those girls and kids voices in your head. And not knowing how to act around Damon since you've learned he was the one to compel you. Someone who you trusted countless times before. You just don't know what to say or how to act around him. You've just done your best to avoid him.

Which had gotten kind of hard, considering you lived with him and his brother. Safer there than at your actual home. At least at the boarding house you didn't have the lingering memory of your parents.

Everyone thinks you're fine, you responded exactly how you knew they would want you to when they asked if you were okay. No one suspecting a thing. Except for Damon, yes he hasn't been the best person in the world, though he does care for you a lot, he can't tell exactly why, but he does. That's why it was so hard for Famon to compel not just Jeremy, but you as well to leave Mystic Falls to go to Colorado.

You had grown close to Damon after he came to town. You met him when Elena and Stefan brought you over to the boarding house to keep you safe for a couple of days while Jeremy was staying with Alaric. He immediately took a liking to you. You would just sit in the library reading one of the many old books for hours and when you weren't doing that you would be hanging out with him. You and gotten close fast.

Stefan and Elena didn't like it at much in the beginning, but came fonder of you guys having a friendship as the weeks went on. Damon had sort of mellowed out because of you. Not a lot, but some.

Damon can tell when there’s something going on with you and all he has to do is figure out why. Surely it can’t be about the trip. You'd say something to someone, or come to him or at least to talk to him about it a little right? 

Damon is sitting on one of the couches in the main room with a glass of bourbon in his hand and the tv on playing re-runs of old sitcoms from the 70′s. He was carefully thinking of a way that he could get you to open up, in the end he came up with nothing before going into a daze.

It was getting later and you finally stopped cutting yourself feeling somewhat a little better. There are some littered left over cuts that hadn’t healed but you paid no attention to them. You took deep breathes before falling asleep, hoping to not have any nightmares tonight cause you don't think you can hold in the screams so Damon can’t hear you anymore like you had been holding them the past weeks. Before that you grasped one of his pillows bringing it towards your chest, hugging it tightly.

You've been having horrible nightmares about the school and the bullying and the others finding everything out and callig you a bay for how you reacted to the kids there. The nightmares have been taunting you and they won't go away, they've gotten worse every night.

Damon quickly jolted awake hearing screams coming from inside the house. At first he looks at his surroundings, the living room...he must of fallen asleep here. Then he listened and soon realized that those screams were coming from you.

Stefan isn't here tonight, and he hadn't told you at least where he was going to be.

Worried, Damon vamp sped upstairs to your room, surprised that your door is unlocked. He got closer to your screaming and squirming form, placing a hand on your shoulder.

"Y/n....come on wake up. It's just a dream.......Y/n?" Damon slightly shook you.

That only caused you to swing around to face him, still asleep but now hyperventilating. Damon started to shake you more cautiously now, who knew how hard it would be to wake you up from a nightmare. He'd never witnessed you having one before.

“Y/n/n Wake up!” After more shaking and talking to you, you finally sprung up, awake.

While you're trying to calm your breathing down, Damon twisted to his side and turned on the lap that’s placed on the nightstand. 

“Damon? W-what are you doing in here?” you asked the vampire, confused as to why he was in his room. 

“I heard you screaming because of a nightmare and I needed to know you were alright” Damon said softly and gently pushed you back down so you were lying down again. 

“No, no y-you don’t care I-if I’m alright or not” you said looking away from him. Not having anyone beside Jeremy and maybe a few times Elena comfort you after a nightmare. And this was the worst possible one for Damon to be there for.

Damon had a hurt look on his face, but hid it before reaching his hand out and placing it on your shoulder. The action making you face him with dried tear streaks down your cheeks. 

“Baby, of course I care about you. Yes, I may not have said it, but I do” Damon said gently and wiped the tear residue off your face.

“You do?” you mumbled with a tiny pout on your face from your dream and everything going on around you right now. 

Damon nodded and pulled you into his arms, you immediately climbed into his lap and started to sob into his chest.

Damon ran his fingers up and down your back soothingly. He was surprised how fast you broke and hugged you closer to his chest, wanting you to feel safe.

After some time, you pulled back to look at him with teary eyes and your hands shaking. Damon gently grasped your hands to stop the shaking and looked down to see an angry red patch on your wrist. Bringing your wrists up closer to see, he rolled up the sleeves of your hoodie to show all of the unhealed scratches on you wrists and forearms. 

“Y/n? Why would you?” Damon was at a loss of words.

You looked at him in the eyes, mouth parting, wanting to explain but just can't and not knowing how to.

"Y/n/n, you need to tell me what made you do this. Is it from Denver?" Damon asked more gently this time.

You nodded slowly with tears running down his cheeks.

"It w-was bad. K-kids made f-fun of me. St-starved myself. C-cutting myself helps t-take pain away fr-from me" you explained, whispering.

He quickly wrapped his arms around you again. You relaxed a little into the vampire, nuzzling your head into his chest before you started talking.

"Why don't you think I'm pathetic? You can be honest, we both know the answer is yes" You mumbled.

"Y/n, you are not pathetic, don't ever call yourself that again. You're enough, you're an amazing person, don't let anyone tell you otherwise. If anyone ever calls you pathetic again, you tell me and I'll make sure to raise hell on them." Damon explained and placed a kiss on top of your head which he's never done before.

That brought a small smile to your face and you mumbled out an 'okay'.

Damon is about to get up but you quickly wrapped his arms and legs around him tighter making sure he won't leave you alone.

"Don't worry baby, I wasn't going to leave I was just going to get into the bed so we can get a bit more comfortable than on the chair" Damon reassured you. You nodded, understanding and got off Damon, climbing into the bed. You moved over a bit so he could also get in. When Damon laid down, right away you cuddled into him, using a strong grip.

"Baby, promise me you won't ever cut yourself again and if you do have those thoughts just come to me and we can talk about it" Damon kissed the top of your head.

You looked up at him and nodded, "I promise" you mumbled and Damon smiled hearing your small words while you started to doze off on his chest.

"I love you Dee" You said right before falling into a deep sleep.

"I love you too, Baby" Damon responded, knowing full well that you couldn't hear him.

[heauxvibez]

Roman Reigns Warning: Soft smut (18+)

Imagination

Girl come through,

and let's do

what we do in your imagination...

Renee and Roman sat in his home theatre binge watching Law and Order: SVU. It was their favorite show to watch together when they had the time.

With how hectic Roman's schedule was, she was surprised that he was able to keep his promise to her after all these years of him wrestling. Early on he had promised her that he would always make time for her even after his career took off. They both wanted to preserve their friendship as best as they could even through the tough times of adulting.

She snuggled deeply into her seat while clutching the blanket that Roman kept at his place for her. He, on the other hand, had his seat reclined with one hand embedded in his sweats and the other tugging at his beard hair. He had a horrible habit of doing that when he was focused.

Renee glanced away from the screen to look his way for just a moment to take in his features. He had changed so much over the years. He had looked the same, yet he didn't. But nonetheless he had aged like fine wine. How? Who knows. But his skin had grew darker over time, jaw line more structured, teeth done and his beard...God his beard. She loved it. It was full, thick and had hints of gray hair. In her opinion, the only thing it needed was to be covered in her juices.

Of course, just like any ole Netflix movie or Wattpad story, Renee had found herself becoming more and more attracted to him over the years. The feelings literally consumed her on a day to day basis. She couldn't stop thinking about him, dreaming about him and often fantasized what he was like in bed.

At this point she was a professional at day dreaming. Scenario after scenario, she constantly pictured herself in his arms.

The thought of being intimate with him sent shivers down her spine. Just imagining his breath against her skin, lips grazing her neck and his eyes..damn those eyes, she often imagined him forcing her to look into them while they made love in front of the mirror in his bedroom.

"Look at me, baby girl.", she shook her head 'no' as he thrusted in and out of her from the back. Her ass slapped against his skin as he pushed deeper..and deeper..and deeper.

His hand gripped her throat and forced her head up.

"You're saying no like you got an option. Look at daddy.." her eyes shifted up, Roman bit down on his bottom lip at the sight.

"Oh God.." she widened her eyes, the words accidently slipped out of her mouth.

"What happened?" Roman looked over at her, fingers still playing with his beard. She looked at him and the look he was giving her was enough to make her want to rid herself of every single piece of clothing that clung to her body. He was looking at her with those same eyes that she remembered from her fantasies.

"I just..I was just thinking about an embarrassing moment I experienced at work a few days ago is all.."

He raised an eyebrow and smirked, "Mmm, sure.." he teased.

Men aren't the brightest people in the world, but Roman definitely wasn't oblivious to the fact that his friend was attracted to him. He never failed to notice the numerous amounts of times she looked at him and the way she looked at him. He'd been teasing her a lot lately and surprisingly she hadn't noticed that he was attracted to her as well. He gave plenty of hints, became a little touchier, called her new nicknames such as baby girl, beautiful, love and they always flew over her head. If he hadn't already had a clue that she'd liked him, he'd probably feel rejected.

They stared each other down a bit longer, his hand moved from his beard and he reached it out in her direction.

"What?" she questioned.

"C'mere," his eyes softened and he licked his lips. She was a bit frozen in place. Is she losing her mind or is he really looking at her like this. The way she'd only dream of him looking at her.

She looked in his eyes, at his lips and back to his eyes.

"Come," his voiced deepened a bit, which she didn't think was possible. She rid herself of the blanket and hesitated.

"Like..sit on your lap?" she questions, now her eyebrow was raised. He bit down on his bottom lip and nodded.

She must be deep in a daydream right now because this isn't real. She finally met his reach, grabbed onto his hand and climbed over the custom theatre seat. She straddled him, legs at either side of his hips. He sighed in pleasure as she sat on top of his covered member. She felt it as well and did her best not to lose it. Her moans were begging to be released from her throat.

"You want to tell me about that embarrassing moment that made the words 'Oh God' leave those pretty lips?" he asked as he looked up at her. His hand returned to his beard while the other held tightly onto her waist.

Her hands rested on his chest. It was nice and firm. His build has definitely changed in the best of ways since he had started wrestling. He looked so edible, it was ridiculous.

"No not really, it's an embarrassing moment for a reason bud." she stated with a sarcastic smile while softly patting his chest. He thrusted up slightly, the lump under his black sweats rubbed against her core which made a soft moan escape her lips.

"You want to tell the truth?" he asked, now both hands rested on her hips. She shivered and her stomach was now consumed with butterflies. What was he doing to her?

She was now biting her lip and looking down at him with a look he thought was irresistible. His stomach was also fluttering as the beautiful woman looked down at him.

Her pretty black curls fell perfectly on her forehead. She often talked about how her 4c hair drove her mad but he loved it. He loved everything about her, her hair, her beautiful black skin, her shape, everything. She could do no wrong and in this moment, he was ready to show her how beautiful she really was to him.

"Maybe I can make whatever you were thinking about come true.." he said softly. His hand slowly began traveling from her hip, up her stomach, over her breast and found it's way around her neck. He began thrusting against her core slowly and his dark eyes looked into her soul while doing so.

Her breath became short and her hands were no longer on his chest but now grasping his tatted arm that had a nice hold on her throat.

"You just have to let me know what you were daydreaming about. I can make it come true.." she softly moaned at his words.

"Was it something like this? Is this what you were thinking about baby?" He questioned. He knew he was making the woman weak, but he wanted to hear from her mouth what she wanted. He wanted the confirmation from her lips. The lips that he wanted against every inch of him.

She shook her head 'no'. He licked his lips, smirking at the fact that she was still holding back. He fully sat up and wrapped his arms around her, his hands were now on her back. His beautiful hair draped over his shoulders. It wasn't wet like he usually had it for his matches, but dry, soft and flowing beautifully.

He snaked his arms under her shirt. Her warm skin against his cold hands made her breath hitch in her throat. He dipped his head down and into the crook of her neck. He placed soft gentle kisses against her pretty soft skin. She smelt so good, like vanilla and peony; he couldn't help but moan. She moaned back in response. His lips felt like heaven.

Her pussy throbbed immensely; she swears he could feel it. She just knew her heart was no longer in her chest and now in her panties.

"Fuck." she whispered; he continued showering her in his kisses. He worked his way up to her ear. Now it was his turn to whisper.

"Tell me what we do in your imagination.." she caved, she couldn't take it anymore.

"You were fucking me while we looked at each other in the mirror-" the hairs stood up from her skin as Roman's hand slowly slid down her back.

"Mhm, what else.." he whispered before his tongue traced the outer of her ear.

"Joe, please" She begged he pulled away from her ear and looked at her through hooded lids.

"Keep. Talking." he spoke sternly.

"You were giving me back shots, you told me to look at you and I didn't. So you wrapped your hand around my throat and made me look at you while...shit..while you fucked me." she uttered in almost agony. She had always imagined what it was like to be intimate with him and the thought always made her knees weak. But to actually experience his hands, his breath, his lips all over her..it was a whole other experience.

Roman's lips curved into a devious yet sexy smile. He loved seeing this side of her. She didn't know that she was driving him crazy just as much.

He licked his lips for what seemed like the millionth time and tilted his head slightly.

She felt her cheeks get hot and quickly became embarrassed. She looked down from his gaze and took a deep breath.

"That's what I was daydreaming about, nosey. Are you satisfied?" she giggled softly hitting him.

That devious smirked still accompanied his soft lips. He finally got want he wanted and was very satisfied matter of fact.

He grabs the wrist that she swatted him with and placed it behind her back. This caught her by surprise. With his other hand he lifted her chin and forced her to look at him.

"Very," he whispered huskily. He wasn't showing it, but he wanted her so bad. Just her looking at him was enough to make him cum. He needed to take her upstairs to the room not now but right now.

"Just know that tonight, every single time you cum I want my hand wrapped around that pretty little throat of yours and I will demand eye contact if you want to nut. We're going to make sure we do what we do in your imagination."

------------------------

Hi ya'll! This is my first time writing Roman. I hope ya'll like it!

Just gonna tag my favorite writers below!

@harmshake @visionarymode @thesamoanqueen @southerngirl41

[lianaloverr]

Let Em’ Know

Sam Golbach x Fem!reader

Summary: Sam had been gone on a trip, but when he got back to surprise you and saw a guy flirting with you, he does take it lightly…

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Word count: 1.2k

ᜊ

Warnings: blowjob,fluff, sam being overprotective

ᜊ

It feels like an eternity since you last laid eyes on Sam. The ache in your heart grows stronger with each passing day, as you long for his presence.

Thoughts of him consume your mind, wondering if he misses you in return or if he even thinks of you amidst his busy work trip.

The emptiness you feel without him is crazy, and you yearn for the day when he'll return and fill your world with his warmth and love.

“Hey girl, you’ve been staring at that wall for quite a while. What’s so interesting about it?” Stas, your best friend since forever, asks, grinning mischievously as if she’s about to poke fun at you. “Uhh, nothing. I guess I’m just overthinking,” you say, glancing down at your hands.

Stas knows how much you’re hurting, how deeply you miss your boyfriend Sam, but all she can do is offer her support. “Well, that sucks. Let’s go to a party!” She announces suddenly, and you simply nod. You need to get your mind off things you almost look depressed.

You dressed up, feeling a bit unsure but determined to look cute. Sighing, you made your way to the living room and slipped on your heels. The dress you chose hugged your waist and accentuated your curves, making you feel confident and sexy. If Sam were here, he would have been drooling over how good you look. As you glanced at yourself in the mirror, a smile crept onto your face, knowing you were going to turn heads tonight.

You wondered where Stas was, but when she emerged from her room, you were taken aback by her beauty. It almost made you question your own preferences. "WOAH," you exclaimed. She grinned and approached you, showering you with compliments. "You look amazing, girl, ughhh," she exclaimed as she hugged you tightly. After the hug, she stepped back, eyeing you appreciatively, and playfully slapped your hand. "Thank youuu, but look at youuuuu, I could literally eat you," you said, giggling.

Stas chuckled, flipping her hair dramatically. "Oh, please, you're the one who's going to stop traffic tonight, not me."

You smirked, playfully rolling your eyes. "Stop it, you're making me blush. But seriously, though, we're going to be the hottest duo out there."

"Damn right we are," Stas agreed, grabbing her purse. "Let's show them how it's done."

As you both headed out, you couldn't help but feel a surge of confidence, knowing you had a friend as fabulous as Stas by your side.

As you and Stas entered the party, the music thumping and the crowd alive with energy, you couldn't help but feel a thrill run through you. However, your excitement went down a bit as a guy approached you, clearly interested.

"Hey there, beautiful," he said, flashing a smile.

You forced a polite smile, not wanting to be rude. "Hi."

"I'm Alex. Haven't seen you around here before. Are you new in town?" he asked, leaning in a little too close for comfort.

Before you could respond, a familiar voice cut in. "Hey, babe, sorry I'm late," Sam said, appearing beside you, a surprised expression on his face as he noticed Alex. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Sam?" Your heart raced at the sight of him. He looked so good, and the way you missed him hit you all at once, making your legs feel like jelly. You couldn't help but think, "Wow, he's here!"

You shook your head, relieved to see him. "No, not at all. Sam, this is Alex. Alex, this is my boyfriend, Sam."

Sam extended his hand, a friendly smile on his face. "Nice to meet you, Alex. Sorry, but I'm going to steal her away for a bit."

As Alex excused himself, Sam turned to you, his expression serious. "Who was that?"

You smiled, trying to ease his tension. "Just someone I met here. No big deal."

Sam's gaze hardened, a hint of jealousy creeping in. "Well, just so he knows, you're mine," he said, his tone firm. "I'm coming back for good, so let them all know what's mine."

You could sense Sam's jealousy, and you decided to play along, enjoying the attention. "Of course, babe. Everyone will know," you said, giving him a playful wink.

Sam's attitude softened, and he pulled you closer. "Good. Because I don't like the idea of other guys talking to you," he admitted, his grip tightening around you.

You chuckled, feeling a surge of affection for him. "Don't worry, you're the only one I'm interested in," you reassured him, feeling grateful to have him by your side.

“Is that so?” he murmured, his eyes filled with a primal hunger. “Yes, it is, baby,” you replied, your voice barely above a whisper, filled with seductive promise.

His smile was predatory as he pulled you close, his strong hands gripping your waist possessively. With a firm touch, he tilted your chin up, his lips crashing down on yours in a fierce, devouring kiss that ignited a fiery passion between you, quickly escalating into an intense make-out session.

After the intense make-out session, his hands roamed eagerly over your body, igniting a burning desire within you. With a hungry urgency, he guided you down to your knees, his eyes locked on yours, filled with lustful anticipation. You knew what he wanted, and you were more than willing to fulfill his desires.

Slowly, you unzipped his pants, freeing his throbbing member. You looked up at him, seeing the raw desire in his eyes.

Without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, savoring his taste and the sounds of his pleasure. He moaned softly, his hands tangling in your hair, guiding you as you pleasured him with expert skill, bringing him to the edge of ecstasy.

As he approached the peak of ecstasy, his grip tightened in your hair, his breathing growing ragged. With a deep, guttural groan, he released himself, his hot essence spilling over your face.

You closed your eyes, feeling the warm, sticky sensation against your skin, the intensity of the moment overwhelming your senses.

Breathless and flushed with desire, he sank to his knees before you, cupping your face gently in his hands.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze filled with a mixture of satisfaction and adoration. “You’re incredible,” he whispered, leaning in to kiss you softly, a silent promise of more to come.

With a devilish grin, Sam pulled you back up to your feet, his desire for you not yet sated. His hands roamed over your body, igniting a new wave of passion between you.

“I can’t get enough of you,” he murmured, his voice husky with desire.

You melted into his touch, eager for more. “Then don’t stop,” you whispered, your voice filled with longing.

With renewed intensity, he pressed you against the wall, his lips finding yours in a hungry kiss. The fire between you burned hotter, driving you both to new heights of pleasure as you lost yourselves in each other once again.

You're thrilled that he's back, filled with anticipation at the thought of enjoying his company once more. The return of his presence brings you immense joy, knowing you can now savor every moment with him.

Ty @gloryaiis

Masterlist

[fushipurro]

In the Shadows of Love

Chapter 1 - Green Flag

Masterlist | Next Chapter ->

☆ Synopsis: You've lived most of your life trying to convince yourself that you're happy, but let's face it, you're far from it. Time continues to pass you by, leaving you feeling stuck — losing hope that life will ever get better.

That is, until a new neighbor and his son move into the vacant spot next-door.

☆ Content: 18+ MDNI, depression, fluff, angst, insecure/intrusive thoughts, mentions of smoking

☆ Word Count: 3.9k

Four in the morning. That’s the time displayed on your phone.

For many, that’s roughly the time others wake up, gearing up for a day of work or school. You however, that’s when you hope to be asleep by. The time just before the sun has a chance to peak above the horizon or the birds start their morning symphony.

It wasn’t always this way, nor do you remember when this routine became your norm. You tell yourself the life of a night owl is one of ease ─ a better way to live. You have unintentionally conditioned yourself into this lifestyle without knowing any better, and even then, you still can’t deny the positives feelings you get from it.

The nights feel as though they move slower than the day, and to you, it beats the alternative of selling your soul away to the 9-5 corporate job. Sure, you still had to go out and get a job ─ it’s an inevitable in life to those born without generational wealth to fall back on. Instead of some soul-crushing office job, you chose to become a model.

Not some high fashion runway Vogue or Louis Vuitton model, of course; that’d be a bit too much for your self-esteem to handle. Nor would you even want to be one, either.

You chose the side of modeling that gears more towards marketing, styling, or the occasional photoshoot here and there, but overall, as much work-from-home as you can get.

Your days typically begin sometime in the afternoon.

A cycle of waking up, feeding your cat, work, chores, whatever else you need to do before a night of indulging yourself with all your many hobbies before starting the cycle all over again.

Reality can be a blur at times with late night thoughts that make you question if you’re truly happy with how things are or if that’s just what you tell yourself to get through to tomorrow.

Putting your phone down on your nightstand, you made yourself comfy beneath layers of blankets in the highlight of your home, your bed.

Sleep is one thing you always look forward to. No thinking necessary or responsibility, just allowing your many dreams to consume you and feed that lust for adventure life can’t guarantee you. You’re more than ready to see what awaits you tonight. Maybe you’ll see dragons and knights, four-armed monsters and cursed beings, the possibilities are endless.

What more could you want?

All your hopes for that and more come crashing down when you wake with a jolt after having just fallen asleep, only to hear that the crash wasn’t a metaphor.

You groan, your voice burdened by your tired state. “Nooo, Tsumiki… come back– fuck.”

You stretch your arm out, feeling for your cat who decided to ditch you from the sudden noise and into one of her many hiding spots. The time on your phone now reads nine in the morning ─ a painful reminder to the cons of being nocturnal.

You’re the minority.

Through the thin walls of the old apartment building you live in, you can faintly make out whoever is disturbing your vampiric slumber, “What do you think, kid?” Their voice is deep, and smooth like honey yet ignites goosebumps down your back.

But wait, kid? As in a child?

Wouldn’t that be your luck.

You’ve been safe for a while with one side of your walls being vacant, but it seems luck has run out, and with a family no less. You only hope their day-to-day noise level is less than that of all the boxes and furniture being thrown around every second.

And just like that, your spare pillow is now your new best friend, sandwiched between your head and your arm to drown out the world.

At some point you managed to fall asleep again ─ if you can even call it that. A better description would be the state in-between, where you’re barely conscious yet still able to rest. By three in the afternoon, the alarm on your phone is your second rude awakening.

So much for any dreamworld adventures to make you forget the crushing weight of reality.

It’s beyond tempting to hit snooze and give it another shot, and maybe you could this time around, given the lack of noise emanating from the other side of the walls. Tsumiki however, says otherwise. With pinpoint accuracy, her tiny paws dig harshly into your bladder and every other vital organ as she impatiently mewls for her afternoon feast.

“Fine, I’m getting up,” you drawl out with a sigh, throwing aside the covers to your oh so warm cocoon…

No, no. Tsumiki needs her breakfast. Her needs always come first before your own, no matter what.

You crack open a can of wet food, adding in all your special additives to ensure she’s getting everything healthy her growing body needs. Once she’s good to go, you follow up with your own lackluster toaster meal, devoid of any extravagant sides. A trip to the grocery store is in order, but that can wait until after you’ve finished your work for the day.

Nothing beats getting all your chores done in the hours after waking up. That way, the rest of your day (read: night) is all for yourself and no one else. What better way to get everything finished too than by singing along to all your favorite songs with the occasional break to stretch.

By seven at night, you’re finished and dressed for the store. Some days you can bring yourself to look the part of a model, other times ─ like today ─ you’re too exhausted to care. So, you fit yourself in your choice of comfy clothes, designed by laziness, and without so much as a red sole on your preferred footwear. You’re going to the store after all, not some Hollywood premiere.

A glance through your peephole reveals an empty hallway, perfect for your liking. The less neighbors you have to pass by or talk to, the better. Once past the threshold, you spot the remnants of boxes just next-door, further proving to your dismay that you’re now stuck with someone on both sides of your home. Getting down the stairs and out the building proves just as easy. Excellent timing on your part to avoid homebound traffic, earning some peace and quiet on your walk to and from the store.

So you hope, at least.

On a better day you would’ve chosen an actual grocery store to go to, but for now, the closest convenience store will have to do. They’re convenient for a reason, might as well utilize it.

Despite only buying enough to last a few days, at best, you still end up with your arms full on the trip back. Each step you take leaves you cursing under your breath for not being able to afford a car. The world’s too expensive for a young, single woman without any family to get help from.

It’s already hard enough leaving the safety net of your home, and your tired arms now feel as if they’re ready to fall off. To top everything off, a lone man comes into sight, resting on the stairs to your building with a cigarette in hand.

He doesn’t look familiar, and in fact, a closer look from the nearby lighting reveals that he’s… actually quite handsome. Hell, he could be a model if he wanted to, and you’d be surprised if he wasn’t one already. His black hair falls neatly over his face, his physique unmatched from what you see around the hems of his black sweater. The scar down his lip adds an air of mystery, that at the same time raises some alarms in your head.

There’s always the chance he lives in the building. It’s not like you’re familiar with every tenant in the complex. But at the same time as previously established, you’re a young woman who’s walking all by herself, long after sunset. Anyone can be a murderer or kidnapper for all you know.

Best to just avoid him, and hope for the best.

You attempt to shuffle by him up the stairs, keeping your head held down and away, but his voice stops you right in your tracks sending a chill down your spine, “Need a hand with those?” He gestures to your bag with the hand that holds the foul cancer stick. There’s something familiar about him, but you can’t place it just yet. Not when your anxiety is shooting sky-high.

The bags tremble slightly in your arms as you turn partially to the man. “N-no, I uh…” You thickly swallow, mumbling softly after, “I’m okay, thanks.”

You move to continue up the stairs, but misplace your foot, fixing to tumble downwards only to be caught just in time by a pair of hands on each side of your shoulders.

“Woah, easy there. I don’t mind helping, doll,” he insists. You don’t protest when he reaches for the bags in one arm, too frozen in place to react beyond budding embarrassment. He opens the door to the building but stops, looking back at you. “You comin’?”

“Y-yeah.”

Great instincts, now let’s hope he’s not about inflict every crime in the book there is upon you. Ending up on the morning news in a body bag is not the type of modeling you had in mind.

His green eyes follow your form as you walk past him, silently thanking him for being chivalrous enough to hold the door open. You take the lead up the stairs, trying not to make it too obvious when looking back over your shoulder, praying he doesn’t pull a gun on you.

The smart choice would be to lead him to some other home in the building. For instance, someone that you’re familiar with to offer a sense of security. Unfortunately, you have about as many friends as you do cats.

Which in this case is… one. If you can even call your boss a friend.

Perfect.

The man quirks a brow as you arrive in front of apartment 4-C, your home. “Huh, looks like we’re neighbors.” He nudges his head to 4-D, the previously vacant housing. “Just moved in today,” he adds.

“Oh,” you reply, visibly stunned. Well that alleviates more of your worries and explains the familiarity you felt. The voice you had heard earlier in the day belongs to him. “I guess we are,” you laugh nervously, stumbling to unlock your door with unsteady hands.

You step inside, keeping the door parted for him to enter. He wastes no time following after, placing the bags down on the countertop in the kitchen alongside your own. Tsumiki runs into the room moments after, stopping to take a cautious sniff of the man’s ankle.

“Who’s this?” he asks, leaning down to pet the now-purring kitten with one thick digit. “Friendly cat you’ve got here.”

“Her name is Tsumiki,” you tell him, still unable to help how meek you sound. You can’t help but feel a bit more at ease with your cat’s quick approval of the man.

There’s a low hum from his throat with approval, “Cute name.” He picks her up into his arms, huffing out of amusement at all the air biscuits she starts making with her tiny little paws. His eyes meet yours unexpectedly, about stunning you in the process. “What’s yours?”

“Huh?”

He simpers. “Your name?”

You avert your gaze to your groceries, playing with the fabric of your sleeves as you tell him your name, no louder than a whisper.

“Even cuter,” he remarks, thankfully not making any comments on how flustered you must look right about now. He does wink however, not that you’re even looking his way to see it, but he does.“Name’s Toji Fushiguro.”

“Nice to meet you, Toji.” You offer up a smile, trying to keep your voice steady. “Thanks for helping with the bags, by the way.”

Toji’s eyes spark with subtle interest. “Told you it wouldn’t be a problem.” He pauses, momentarily looking around. “Guess I should get goin’ now before I’m late for work.”

At this time of night? Though it’s not like you’re one to talk, let’s be real.

He places Tsumiki gently back onto the ground, turning back to leave. You end up having to pick her back up in order to stop her attempt at escaping with him.

Betrayed by your own cat.

He tells you his goodbyes, turning the key into his own home, finalizing the fact that he is your new neighbor and not some degenerate criminal. Well, hopefully. You never know these days.

Maybe this whole thing won’t be so bad after all.

Tsumiki meows with evident disappointment, pawing away at your front door once back inside. It looks as though Tsumiki’s deemed him a green flag with her pawprint seal of approval. “Well, you seem to like him. Don’t you, girl?” She meows in response, and you can only imagine what her mews translate to in your tongue. The most likely answer would be a series of complaints for not making him stay longer to give her more attention like you don’t do that enough.

The remainder of your night is spent as usual, mostly tucked away on the couch, enjoying some quality TV time and whatever else you like to do. Tsumiki’s bakery works wonders on your stomach, kneading and purring away until the covers of sleep pull themselves up and over you, whisking you off to the world of dreams.

The next day starts with a slew of curses leaving your mouth that could put a sailor to shame.

Your sleep deprivation caught up to you with impeccably awful timing, paired with a few missed calls from your boss, and a voicemail to match.

“I apologize for how late notice this is, but I need you in the office at three o’clock. We have a meeting with a prospective client, and they would like to meet you.”

Your eyes dart to the time registered on your phone as you listen in. The meeting is at 3 and it’s… 3:30.

Lovely.

You shoot up from the couch and into some much nicer clothing and whatever makeup you can scrounge to cover the bags resting below your eyes. With your purse in hand, there’s no time to even think about running into a neighbor as you leave. You exit the building like a bat out of hell, flying past Toji and his son on the sidewalk without even realizing.

He calls out your name, but you don’t respond nor even hear it over the sound of blood rushing in your ears, drowning out any and all outside noise.

His son looks on with confusion at the scene. “Rabbit…”

Toji stifles a laugh, “Might as well be one.” He follows you with his eyes, panning down to see that you’re running in heels of all things. It’s a wonder how a set of stairs almost got you the night before.

You aren’t sure how long you’ve been running for. Being as late as you are, there wasn’t any time to order a ride. At the very least, it’s not like your agency is situated in the heart of the downtown, so getting there by foot is doable.

By the time you do arrive, the client is long gone, and other employees are leaving their shifts as well. You make yourself as presentable as you can in what seconds you have to spare before entering his office to hear everything you missed.

In the midst of the discussion, you apologize, “I’m so sorry, Mr. Nanami. I swear it won’t happen again.”

“No matter,” his exhale comes in the form of a sigh. “The client is willing to excuse it this time, and it’s fortunate they still wish to advance to the next step with us.” For a second, you can see some underlying frustration in his eyes, believing yourself to be the cause. “There will be consequences if this happens again, I do hope you understand.”

You lower your head in shame. “Y-yes sir ─ thank you…”

Even if it it’s true your sleep was disrupted the day before from outside of your control, you still feel as though you’re the only one to blame. You could’ve set more alarms, taken a nap ─ or better, not stayed up till dawn.

You’re snapped from your thoughts by a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t stress, this will be good opportunity for you,” he reassures. “Now go home and rest, I’ll be in contact.” You nod, taking your leave from the office.

You take your time on the walk home, losing yourself in your mind once more. Staying up at night to enjoy the silence is nice and all, but is it worth setting yourself back? You can’t afford to lose your job, or worse, not be able to afford your bills and all of Tsumiki’s food and care.

Speaking of which, food was one of the last things on your mind, but upon seeing the neon lights of the convenient store, your stomach growls on cue.

“…Guess I’ll grab something then,” you mutter to yourself.

You scan each aisle, grabbing a few simple snacks, and eventually coming across a comfort food that would taste perfect right about now in place of a full meal. It’s nothing too fancy or expensive, just enough to quell your noisy stomach and anxious body.

“You were in a hurry this afternoon,” a gruff voice sounds from behind you. It startles you, enough so that you lose your grip on the item in your hands. Toji catches it effortlessly, observing the contents in his hand. “Shit, didn’t mean to scare you.”

You take a moment to catch your breath, letting the vicious thumping of your heart calm down enough to speak. “It’s okay, I’m sorry.”

Toji gives you a questioning look, examining your appearance with emerald eyes that practically see right through you. “Something happen?” he inquires.

“Oh, uh– it’s nothing important.” You wave him off, shifting your head to the side. You almost forget he’s even still holding onto your food when the next thing you know, he’s putting it into his own basket alongside whatever else he’s buying. “Um, Toji?”

“My treat.” He winks, moving ahead down the aisle expecting you to keep up.

“I can’t let you do that, it’s too much,” you plead.

“Doll, this is nothing,” he claims. “It won’t break the bank for me.”

You don’t try and argue further, resorting to pouting when he turns his back to you to grab a few other items. With this view, you’re able to take in more of his appearance.

This time, instead of black sweats, he’s fitted in dark jeans, an equally dark shirt, boots, and muted olive parka that goes wonderfully with his eyes. You had noticed his scar looked rougher up close, with a few more hide away on his skin, out of sight. Toji looks over his shoulder, inadvertently catching you staring at him. You blush, quickly averting your gaze to the ice cream selection at your side.

After checking out, you thank him, sticking close to his side on route back to your shared apartment complex. Toji stays silent for the first few blocks, occasionally glancing in your direction without you even realizing, as you do the same.

Normally you’d be content with the peace, but your mind says otherwise even if you have no clue what to talk about. He ends up being the first to speak up anyways, “What do you do for work?”

You figure he must be asking based on how your appearance, especially when you know now that he spotted you earlier. “I work in the fashion industry, mainly advertising…” your voice trails off into a more meek tone, “…also some modeling gigs here and there, believe it or not.”

He hums, acknowledging your words while sparing another glance filled with newfound curiosity. Given your self-confidence, you’re not quite sure what to make of the stare, wondering if he’s silently judging you.

“W-what about you?” you ask, mentally scolding yourself for stuttering.

“I’m a bartender over at a joint called Star Plasma. You should come by if you ever want a drink, I’ll make it special for you.” He briefly pauses, keeping his eyes directed at you while scratching the back of his neck. “You look like you could use one, did somethin’ happen?”

You stop dead in your tracks, looking down at the concrete path below. He stops just in front of you, half-turning to see the glossy coating on your eyes. “I…kind of got in trouble at work, all because of a stupid mistake.” One called not setting a proper alarm or having your phone not set to silent, you later realized.

“I know all about that,” he responds, and in a way, it’s reassuring. “Can’t be that bad if you still have a job, right?”

“Yeah, I suppose,” you slowly exhale. The next words out of your mouth are barely that of a whisper, almost completely inaudible, “I’m hating myself for it…”

Toji doesn’t say anything in the immediate moment, turning his head up to the flickering streetlamp overhead. After a minute he goes on to say, “Don’t beat yourself up, we all make mistakes.”

Tell that to a perfectionist.

“Come on then,” he urges. “Before the ice cream melts.”

You continue walking, muttering, “Right, sorry.”

“Don’t be, you didn’t do anything wrong.”

The two of you are quiet the rest of the way home. Once outside the front doors of your respective apartments, he holds out one of the bags for you to take.

“Here you go,” he says as you accept it from his hands. “I threw in a thing of ice cream too. Figured you might like some with the way you were staring earlier.” He smirks.

You glance into the bag and find a small tub of your favorite flavor tucked away. Your mouth parts in shock, the surprise evident on your features. “How did you know I like this flavor?”

“Lucky guess, I’m glad it paid off.”

Toji’s front door suddenly opens from the inside, and a young boy comes running out, latching onto the older man’s leg. One look is all it takes to see that he’s the spitting image of his father, save for the trademark scar on the lip and hair kept under control. The boy sees you and decides to shield himself behind his father, peering around his leg with a cautious expression.

“Megumi,” Toji kneels down, rubbing his hand along the course of his son’s spikey hair. “Meet our new neighbor,” he says, your name punctuating the sentence.

You smile, lowering yourself to his level. “Hi Megumi, it’s nice to meet you,” you greet.

He shuffles more behind Toji’s leg, and you can’t blame him for being nervous around strangers. He mumbles out, “Rabbit lady,” before darting back inside his home, leaving you surprised.

Toji eyes the door, sighing, “Sorry about that, he’s shy around new people.”

“No worries, he’s adorable,” you softly giggle, standing back up to normal height. “Thanks again for the food.”

Toji looks at you with slightly wider eyes, stunned by the sudden display of laughter. “Yeah, no problem. I’ll see you around then, neighbor.”

You wave goodbye, entering your own home and greeting Tsumiki who must’ve heard you through the door given how she’s right there waiting. Toji was right about the ice cream. Between that and the conversation you had with him; you’re already starting to feel better about the earlier turmoil.

Maybe being neighbors with him won’t be so bad after all.

☆ Notes: During my revision of this series, I gotta admit that my original upload was messy as HELL... i had waaay too many ideas and no cohesive plan for where i wanted the plot but that's all fixed now and i'm super excited for how this series will develop over time and i hope you all enjoy the new version of this series!

sorry for the name change whiplash btw, i've been thinking for a while that "light in the dark" was a little too basic and then thought of this new one on a whim so here we are :)

[lvlyghost]

In the Midst of War

PAIRINGS: Simon 'Ghost' Riley x F!Shadow!Reader

SUMMARY: Home is no longer where it used to be. Left with no one else you wonder who your friends and foes are.

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

TW: blood, angst. Description of wounds. self-doubt. Reader's callsign is Vesper. some background for reader too. medical inaccuracy and poorly written action. future +18 chapters so mdni!

A/N: it's quite embarrassing the amount of time it took me to get this out, but between work and just my personal life it was so hard to find the time to write. i'm excited to see how the next chapters will play out✨remember english is not my first language so corrections are appreciated💕comments and reblogs add years to my lifespan 🌸.

Masterlist✨Masterpost

"𝒆𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒚 𝒏𝒐𝒘 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒈𝒏."

The amount of blood coming from your wounds is mortifying. Your body hits the dusty soil beneath you while you try to breathe in as much air as possible. The black hummer you stole from the headquarters refused to keep going, no matter how much you tried to get it to start again. Certainly you'd die out here, in a forgotten highway in the middle of nowhere of a foreign country, where the sky was starting to set on the horizon.

Was this your fate? To die alone in a god-forsaken desert, far from home; simply because you tried to do the right thing?

Blue eyes stare back at you as you try to press one of the wounds on your stomach. The disappointment in Phil's eyes when you confronted him about the whole situation. As much as an asshole he was, he cared for you in his own weird and twisted way.

You were his favorite amongst all of them. And if someone were to ask him about it, you were the closest thing he ever had to a friend.

Your stomach contracts violently fighting a wave of nausea. It won't take long until you pass out from blood loss and exhaustion, your throat constricts when the feeling finally settles in.

Are you crying? A lone tear slides down your right cheek.

"Yep-yep." You choke out dryly. "This is how it ends." A sad ending for a sad life.

From the moment you became a part of the shadow company, you thought you had found a family, something you no longer had back in the states; the old victorian house didn't count. Thought you belonged somewhere at last. Why was it that when something good happened to you couldn't last.

You were damned from the moment you came into this world. The moment of your first breath.

It's the sound of screeching tires behind you that brings you back to consciousness. Eyes barely opening when darkness threatens to consume you, pulling you down to the deep slumber you'd certainly never wake up from. Rocks creak beneath heavy boots approaching. If only you had the strength to reach down for your gun and defend yourself. You cough and more blood splutters out of your mouth, coating your lips and chin. This doesn't seem promising, the voice in your head whispers. The bullets must've hit a vital organ.

A radio crackling you hear, indistinct voices and then a deep voice.

"That her, Price?"

The voice is distorted, a sudden waft of air carries the words away; it's starting to get cold. Is it supposed to be this cold at this time in the south? Even in your dying state another wave of nausea fills your stomach, bile threatens to burn you from inside out.

Seconds later you're being scooped up by an unknown force, almost too big, almost too strong to be real.

This is it.

You try to reach up, to move your arm but it stays the same; why can't you open your eyes anymore? The person that carries you is walking as fast as possible, trying to not worsen the open wounds. Whoever these people are, they know you might not get to see another day.

But sleeping now is what you want to do the most, and at least you wouldn't die alone.

-

The conversations come and go just as your consciousness. Brain fogged and head heavy. Aching body. You fight when the darkness threatens to swallow you whole; you've endured the worst. You've been through hell and back.

The constant beeping of the machine next to your bed, the tears that spill from your eyes rolling down your cheeks. The soft and warm breeze that comes through the open window, softly moving the curtains. Birds that sing a distant song. It's painful, to even fully open your eyes to take in the surroundings; yet beautiful.

A small cozy country house with vintage furniture. A rocking chair in the far left corner. The painting of a white rose with a golden frame. With a shaky hand you take oxygen mask from your face, breathing is still a challenge, it's as if the bullet wounds on your stomach would reopen if you dared to breathe. The medication is doing wonders nonetheless. Keeping the pain at a minimum. Eyes slide further away from the rocking chair and to the other side of the room.

Pupils widen at the sight of a man leaning against the wall, brown orbs squinting when he realizes you're indeed awake.

He doesn't speak nor move. His strong arms are crossed over his broad chest, face hidden under a black balaclava painted in white on the lower half. Your breath catches in your throat at the terrible realization of who that is.

"You..." voice barely above a whisper. You cough, your dry throat hurts and you notice as he sighs and moves around to help you, a glass of water in hand. Slowly you swallow down feeling the liquid soothe your throat. "Thank you..." it's a low response to which he just gives curt nod and then retreats. "Am I a hostage... of the task force?" The man... you don't want to truly believe it but even you know who it is.

"No such thing, kid. I need to report this." You try to stand up, regretting it instantly, whimpering as the stitches around your abdomen threaten to reopen. The masked soldier hisses and darts forward to —and surprisingly— help you lay back with soft hands. "Stop that. It's not gonna help, you're still healing."

"Why... why do you care?" You ask him, lips pressed into a thin line. You were far from home or anyone you could call family. "Why didn't you just let me die?"

"Laswell would've killed us all if we didn't."

"Kate?" You stammered, dumbfounded.

The man shrugs seemingly annoyed that he has to answer or to even talk.

"Said it was important."

A moment passed where none of you say another word. You have so many questions, but you also have the feeling he won't answer them even if you asked.

"You're him." He gives you a blank stare. "The one they call Ghost."

Unfazed by your statement he turns to exit the room. You hear him walking around the living room, the wooden floor creaks beneath his combat boots, you wish you'd make out what he's saying but his voice is low so you just wait for him to come back. He has to, you think.

Ten minutes later he's entering the room, making it look smaller than it is with his sheer size. A silver tray in his hands.

"Doctors said you must eat." He approaches setting it down. "Sorry about this but let me help you sit down. Put your arms around me yeah?" You can tell by the way the corner of his eyes wrinkle that he's just as disgruntled as you by the whole situation. Lifting your arms you oblige. "One, two..." and the he lifts your upper body, careful enough for you to adjust, checking on you for any signs of discomfort. When you unwrap your arms he pulls back, his heavy hand rests on top of your shoulder for a short moment before he's sure you'll be alright. He places the tray in front of you. Chopped fruit, apple juice and a sandwich. Your mouth waters at the sight.

"Ghost." You try, your voice is barely above a whisper. He halts all of the sudden on his way back to the living room. "I'm sorry. For what was done." And it's true. You never wanted to be a part of all this mess, and in some ways Phil tried to shield you from it, until he couldn't anymore. His favorite. You don't think he'll answer, but when he looks over his shoulder and his gaze bounced from the walls to your eyes he leaves you speechless.

"I'm in disadvantage here." His deep voice echoes across the silent room and reaches your eardrums.

Your heart begins to race and cheeks blush so hard you're mortified he might notice. There's something about his presence...

"Vesper, sir."

-

"You there, Ghost? That was a big mistake brother... son of a bitch." You hear him curse when you walk past the threshold of the facility. Eyebrows furrowed and a racing heart. You had been off-duty at the mexican special forces base. Sleeping for a good 5 hours before the sound of bullets ricocheting echoed through all the hallways and walls. You rub your eyes with your hand on your pistol as you come outside, it's raining and the first thing you see is Alejandro's unconscious body on the ground. Blinking rapidly you crouch down.

"Is he alright?" You ask, none of your team members answers but rather chuckle and murmur things amongst them, not minding the bodies scattered around the floor; you suck in a sharp breath. "Phil?" You look up from the man to find his blue eyes already fixed on you. "Sir, what's...-"

"Let's get you inside." He grabs you by the arm dragging you back into the hall. Shadows carry Alejandro's body God knows where. He takes you to the main office, locking the door behind him; Phil takes off his combat vest. "Our orders have changed, Vesper." He announces coming close to you. "And I expect you to obey accordingly."

Shaking your head you laugh humorously.

"What does that have to do with Colonel Vargas... and the 141?" Annoyance glints in his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose. Why couldn't you just trust him?

"Soldier, just fucking do as you're told. None of that." He stops you when you're about to say no. "Now go get geared up and wait for my signal. We need to find those bastards first. You're in charge until I get back." When you don't move, frozen in place at what you just heard he barks again. "You're dismissed!"

Blinking you turn on your heels making your way to the dorm and getting dressed, leaving your Captain staring at your back as you leave, sighing long and deep. You hadn't met these guys personally, Graves was the one with direct contact but you knew they were on your side, why were they suddenly the enemies? You dart to your laptop and log in. Fingers typing on the keyboard finding your most trusted contact. If Graves wasn't going to give you the answers you'd personally search them. She's quick to type back and as you chew on your lower lip you read her reply, heart racing and clammy hands ghosting over the keyboard. Swallowing hard you shut it down, grabbing your things you step out, the device that he confided to you feels heavy in your pocket. Your comrades are starting to line up at the entry door, Phil's eyes squint, lips going thin and he asks if everything's alright; it's in that moment that you think you can't recognize the man in front of you.

The rest of the night is quiet, a contrast to what's happening in your mind. Phil did not only have Colonel Vargas under arrest but all of his team. Upon speaking to your contact yet again and gaining more information as the night went by you decided to pay the man a quick visit. One that wouldn't alert the shadows that were left behind, even so you were in charge so it wouldn't raise suspicions if you went to check him.

"Colonel?" Two soft knocks on the metallic door should be sufficient. He doesn't answer at first so you open the small window on it. It's pitch dark inside, safe from the moonlight that shines through the small opening up above.

"What do you want?" His voice is raspy, defensive. You don't blame him.

You take a quick glance to the hallways. No one's around.

"I apologize sir, for all of this. I don't know what's gotten into Graves but...."

He scoffs standing to his full height and slowly but menacingly walking towards the door.

"I won't ask again. Qué chingados quieres?"

Inhaling deeply you shift your weight from one foot to another.

"Not all of us are bad."

His face remains the same, unbothered. He doesn't trust you and you think if you were in his place you'd do the same.

"Then I suggest you to stop talking and do something about it."

Chaos unfolds. A hellish night you would certainly remember. You meet them although from afar. Hiding in the far tower of the compound under Graves' commands.

"Let them fight. But I need you alive, don't engage. Retreat until I get back."

You're certain you would've died on your way to hide. Because he saw you through the shattered window, and you saw him.

A quick glance where the world slowed for a short moment. Maybe he was too occupied shooting the other shadows, you'll never know; but if he hadn't been distracted by the bullets firing his way he would've gone after you. A fight you were bound to lose.

'They're too good' you pondered.

It's not that you weren't you thought you were amazing at your job, but the display of power and force shown by the 141 had made you rethink everything.

Maybe I'm not as good as I believed.

Silence settles once again, birds chirping outside when your Captain comes to find you, motioning for you to follow him. You oblige, adjusting the cap on your head. Phil is furious. Reminds you of a child throwing a tantrum when he didn't get what he wanted.

"I have to be out there Phil." You say, his blue eyes snap to you. "I'm not gonna hide and guide them through a radio." His jaw clenches. He knows you're right. "You stay. And be our eyes."

He hesitates, fingers tapping on the surface of the desk, considering his options; he comes to realize that he doesn't have many. And there's no more time to wait.

"Alright, kid. You go out there and guide the shadows."

Inhaling deeply through your nose you nod your head. As soon as you walk out the door it may be the last time you see each other. Despite his complicated persona he was always someone you looked up to.

Like a big brother.

But not anymore.

"Yep-yep."

With one last look into his eyes you walk outside and tighten the grip on your rifle.

It ends today.

-

More often than not you found yourself wondering if you had taken the wrong decisions. Both in your personal life and your job.

If I had taken the right turn to go through the shortcut I wouldn't have crashed. If I had studied enough instead of escaping with your boyfriend i would've passed the exam for college. If I had been smart enough I would have made it to the medical school and have a different life. If I had waited enough time mom would've woken up from the coma. If I had been a good daughter, and look after dad he would've been fine. If I had checked on my sister regularly after the tragedy she wouldn't have taken her life.

Life was a series of unfortunate events.

It's a series of what if's.

And the biggest one today was: if I had left sooner maybe I wouldn't be in this position. Hiding behind a concrete wall were bullets flew and hit the soft flesh of my body.

But none of that happened and that's why you're in the midst of war. A war that wasn't yours to begin with yet you'd pay with your life.

You bolted, desperate to find the way out. It was your last chance. A bleeding arm firmly pressed to your body, legs limping, ragged breathing.

And three bullets lodged into your stomach. The truck you readied prior wasn't far but getting shot not only once but thrice had made things more difficult. By the time you open the door your head's spinning and the bullets are whizzing right past you, turning the keys you feel it jerk to life; one last look through the rear view mirror and the chaos that unfolds you say goodbye to your team and to the man who took you under his wing, trained you and gave you a sense of family of belonging. You truly wished it didn't end like this.

But it did.

-

You hiss when the nurse takes the IV out of your skin. The sting reminds you of all the wounds left to heal. She changes your bandages in silence merely answering questions you ask her here and there.

Ghost, true to his name stays out of your dorm, walking in only when needed. Until you ask him to help you stand.

"I need to go to the bathroom." You explain to which he plainly stares you down, eyes hard. "And I could use some fresh air." He sighs but moves closer, standing next to the bed.

"Just hold onto me. I'll carry you. Don't want to risk your stitches opening up. Nurse won't be coming for a few days." You do as he says, arms wrapping around his broad shoulders; he lifts you with ease as if he was picking up a leaf instead of your body. Mind traveling back in time when the shadows used to tell stories about the SAS lieutenant. A low grunt leaves your chapped lips as he readjusted your body. "You alright?" He asks, face heating up when you realize you're just too close to his face. From your position you can make the blond of his eyelashes and the way the corner of his eyes crinke.

"Yeah." You murmur. Ghost takes one last glance at you before walking towards the bathroom. "Should probably get a shower at some point you know?" He lowers your body with so much care it's astonishing.

"Might as well do it now that you're here. I'll bring you some clothes and wait outside."

He does as he says.

It's difficult to even lift your arms, to stand for five minutes under the hot water, leaning on the cool tile walls you shower as best as you can given your condition. It pains you that outside this place there's nothing no one waiting for you. When you finish, your eyes red and the tears have long dried. You find the clothes neatly folded on the bed. A simple black t-shirt and a pair of matching sweatpants you put on with great effort.

The indistinguishable voice of the man who's been your companion for the last few days filters through the door, muffled and quiet; curiosity wins over. So far you've gotten zero answers regarding your future so you walk to the living room his back is turned to you, hand tightening over the disposable device.

"You better come up with a bloody solution then Price. You know how I feel about babysitting." He snarls

Your heart drops, it's not because of what he said but the feeling that wormed its way to your heart. That's what you've been your whole life: a burden.

"Could've just left me to die then." Ghost tenses when he hears your hard voice behind him. Turning to face you he ends the call, despite the voice of his Captain calling his name.

"Supper's in the kitchen." He brushed off your comment. Part of you wondered if there's even a human behind that horrendous mask.

"I didn't ask for the fucking supper." You snap at him. His eyes widening for a small fraction before he glares daggers at you. "I know what you must think of me, that I'm a poor pathetic shadow girl who needs saving, well I don't. I did not ask for this, don't want your pity."

"I do not pity you, kid."

"Then stop looking at me like that." A delicate finger from your hand pointing at him. "I earned a spot on that team. I am strong, I for once tried to do the right thing and look where it got me. Just put me on the first plane and fly my ass back to the States." It gets harder to breathe you don't know how but you've kept the tears at bay.

"Can't do that." He simply responds

"And that's why?" You demand, raging inside.

He crosses the distance between the two in three long strides, you feel the heat that radiates off of him, you stand your ground nonetheless.

"Because the moment you set foot on American soil they'll arrest you and get you court-martialed for deserting. Does your brain understand that? Bloody fucking hell." He seethes.

There were moments in life when you felt the weight of the world on your shoulders; but hearing the words coming out from his mouth broke the last hopes you had to at least go back to the only place you knew, it didn't matter how painful the memories would be. Ghost's looking at you frantically, waiting for your answer, for you to retaliate. He's eager even, to get some sort of reaction.

Hit him, scream at him, but none of that happens. And then he sees himself in you.

In those eyes.

The spark that he saw the very first day flickered, until it burned away.

Part 2

[sootical]

Permanence

->Wilbur Soot x Reader (hinted but never explicitly stated) ->No use of Y/n ->I tried to be as gender neutral as possible.

*Hurt, minimal comfort, hopeful ending TW: Su*cidal ideation, Self destructive thoughts and actions, SH mentions/references, depression, lots and lots of depression. READ AT YOUR OWN RISK Summary: You are stuck in a multi-month long depressive episode, and it's gotten so much worse. You're on your last leg, and you need someone to help you. Good thing best friend(?) Wilbur and his band are there to help :] Word Count - 2.4k

Wilbur Soot. Twitch streamer turned famous musician, heartthrob—you get it. He’s everything anyone could want in a partner. Trust me, I would know. He’s been my best friend since form. And since then, he’s only ever been kind and considerate and just overall an amazing person. What a guy right? With his stupid brown hair that covers one of his eyes when it’s outgrown. Stupid brown eyes that have just the right amount of dark and light brown in them. It’s stupid of me really, to ever hope for a future with him that involves us being more than friends. I can only hope though, right? He’s up there, in the states, singing his heart out on a stage. While I’m stuck, on the other side of paradise–more like purgatory–lamenting on how many people adore him. I’m feeling sorry for myself, rotting away in bed at 2 in the morning. It’s not like I have to work in three hours–whaaaat nooooo… A knot develops in my stomach at the mere thought of leaving my bed. Maybe losing my job isn’t so bad. Wilbur has told me time and time again he’d pay me to edit for him. But I could never make him do that. Never would I take advantage of him like that. I’d feel like more of a burden than I already do. The thought of him having to support me financially makes me want to vomit. It makes my skin crawl, so it’s okay if I waste away. If I end up rotting away in my bed. It’s fine. At least then I wouldn’t be able to consume too much of Wilbur’s time. Taking up too much of his time has always been my biggest fear. To me, it came true a long time ago and I’m finally reaping what I sowed. It sucks really, how I thought I'd have a shot. Just for it all to blow up in my face. Now he’s somewhere in America–having the time of his life. Good for him. Bad for me.

Reaching over, I grab my phone. My coworkers probably hate me. I keep asking them to cover my shifts so I can rot in bed for another day. It’s been like this since–September? It started off just once every few weeks. Now, it being almost December, I’ve not gone to work in over two weeks. What’s the point anymore anyways? I can’t do this. I can’t do anything. Deep down, when I started doing things for myself–I knew I wouldn’t be able to do this. That was two years ago. I guess I’m finally breaking.

Pulling the duvet over my head, I try not to think about how my breath smells, and the uncomfortable way the oil sticks to my face. I shove my head into the pillow. Trying to block out the sounds of people existing below my apartment. It’s so much easier to rot away when people don’t rely on you. When you have no reason for existence. I don’t want to die. But at the same time I don’t want to live. I’m too much of a coward to do anything about it, so I lay and wait. I wait for some omnipotent being to strike me down and judge me for how I’ve managed to mess up any and all relationships I’ve ever had with anyone. Me and Nikki haven’t spoken in almost a year. Me and Wilbur haven’t even seen each other in months My family doesn’t talk to me.

I wish I could say “The world is fucked and everyone hates me.” But that’s not the truth. The truth is I am my own undoing. I have destroyed everything I’ve worked for. Any relationships–platonic and romantic–have fallen through because of my own emotions and insecurities getting in the way. It’s not fair for anyone. Well, anyone except for me. I brought this upon myself. My phone is the only thing lighting up my face. I looked at the time. Suddenly it’s six in the morning, and I’m late for work. The thought makes me want to cry, but I can’t. I can’t tell if it’s apathy—or dehydration. 

I call my boss. She answers. “Where are you?! I haven’t seen you in weeks! I’m worried about you hun, do you need me to call someone?” She opens, sounding both relieved and shocked I even called. I clear my throat the best I can, swallowing saliva feels like eating sandpaper. “I uh..I was calling to let you know I won’t be coming back. I’m quitting. And I’m sorry for not putting in my two weeks. It’s not–” Something foreign is bubbling up in my throat, I force myself to swallow it down. “-It’s not fair to you. And I’m sorry.” I whisper, hanging up shortly after.

I feel terrible for worrying her. I feel terrible for upsetting her. I feel terrible. I am terrible. I’m a parasite. I always have been. Mooching off of others in order to help myself get by. My thoughts fall back to Wilbur. I’ve been mooching off of him for however long we’ve been friends. I want him to be happy. I don’t want him to feel like he needs to be my friend to keep me alive. But at the same time–I can’t do this anymore. I can’t look myself in the mirror and tell myself it’s me. I can’t. I’m not the person I thought I’d become. I’m not the person I thought I was. I’m useless. My phone rings again. I go to decline it, I can’t. 

Wilbur’s face greets me. His contact photo, the two of us at the amusement park I helped them film for Tommy’s vlog channel. We’re smiling. His arm over my shoulder, and my head on his arm. I remember that day. Wilbur held me for a bit while Tommy and Phil were off filming a different part of the vlog with Russ. I was overwhelmed and so was he, so we took the time to chill by the snack stands. He got tommy cotton candy, and we split popcorn even though he couldn’t really taste it. We spent a good time just taking funny pictures with each other. I remember that day, it was a great one.

Tears breach my eyes before I can stop them. A sob ripping through me, I force my face into the pillow to muffle it. The ringing stops. My tears don’t, and that makes me feel so much worse. My chest convulses as my sobs reverberate through the room. I’m a mess. I’m laying in my bed, rotting. Wasting away and feeling sorry for myself. Everything is terrifying, every breath I take reminds me of how I’m alive. Reminds me of how I can’t escape the feeling of impending doom that washes over me. I’m going to die here. I’m going to die. I was never permanent. 

I knew I couldn’t do this. I’ve been lying to myself, little lies, white lies. To convince myself everything was okay. That it was fine for me to fall in love, it was fine for me to believe I wasn’t just taking up space. That I wasn’t slowly getting tired. 

Contemplating whether or not cut myself some slack–but ending up just cutting myself loose. I lift the duvet from my head, staring at the ceiling. My eyes flick to the ground, clothes and food everywhere. Some of it’s moldy. It makes me feel worse about myself. Turning my head, I look to my PC. I should sell it. Someone else would be much happier with it. I haven’t used it in a while anyways. I can’t take care of any of the stuff I have can I? 

My phone rings again, this time I do answer. 

“Oh my god–” I hear multiple people take a sharp breath in. I can’t stop myself from making a small noise of confusion. “Hey..Your boss–called us.” I recognize the voice to be Joe. I lift the phone, checking the caller ID. It was Wilbur again. “Wil—?” It hurts so bad to talk, I haven’t used my voice this much since the end of October. I hear a choked noise and whispers. “We’re gonna—come over there okay? The tour ended last night, no gigs for a while. Wil’s been missing you y’know.” I can’t tell who said that, “I–no. Sorry.” I don’t know why I said that. I don’t know why I hung up either.

Maybe deep down I did want them to help, I do want their help. But logically–It’s for the best.

I swing my legs over the side of my bed, cringing at how my clothes hang off of me. My back hurts something awful. I’m so tired. 

Yet I stand on two feet and walk to my bathroom. I look at myself in the mirror, I don’t recognize them. My hair–too long and too oily for it to be mine. My skin is pale and the bags under my eyes are so dark they could rival a racoon. 

It’s then that my legs decide to give out. I can feel my knees split as I hit the tile. I’m so tired. I look down at the sweater I’m wearing. It’s one of Wil’s. I can’t remember when I put it on. I can’t remember a lot of things recently. Like when this got so bad. Or when my arms started to sting. My eyes are heavy, I can barely keep them open. Maybe a nap wouldn’t be so bad.

When I wake up it’s to voices around me. I’m laying on something warm–It’s moving. I can’t find it in myself to open my eyes. My breathing picks up, and I hear an intake of air accompanied by a hand on my forehead. My eyes are shooting open in fear before I’m trembling. He’s above me, looking down at me like I could break.

I look around, there's two other people. I can barely make them out. Joe and Ash. It’s hard to think. It’s so hard to think. 

“There you are..” Wilbur whispers, his pointer finger gently stroking my cheekbone. “What happened to you love?” I can’t tell if it’s his tone, or the fact he looks so broken. But I can’t stop my eyes from watering and my body from turning into him, hiding myself away. Embarrassment filled me, they’d seen it all. The moldy food, the dirty clothes. They probably saw the abundance of mail I'd gotten as well. People are walking out the room. Not Wilbur, he stays. He stays and makes me look at him. “Here’s what’s gonna happen, I’m gonna help you shower, and they’re going to clean and get you food. Okay?” My eyes widened. I shake my head so quickly it hurts. His face falls, he looks down at what I’m wearing. His face falls even more. “Love…” He whispers. “I don’t–I can’t. Don’t make me.” I whisper. Wilbur wipes away my tears and shakes his head. “No. You’re going to get clean, eat, and then you will sleep for however long you need to.” He lifts me like I’m nothing.

He sets me on the toilet, turning to the tub and turning on the faucet. He waits for it to get warm before he’s plugging the drain and helping me get undressed. He brushes the hair from my face, he frowns at the sight of the back of my head. He looks down at my arms before I can see him clenching his jaw. “We’ll work on the matts too.” He picks me up again, placing me in the tub and going to shut the door. He grabs a towel from the cabinet, as well as a washcloth. He swipes the comb from the counter.

“I’m sorry.” I can’t help but whisper. He sighs. “I know. But it’s alright. We were worried about you.” Was all he said before he’s dousing my hair in water. He keeps a hand on my forehead, stopping the water from getting into my eyes. And with that, he applies conditioner and starts to de-matt my hair. An hour and countless tub refills later, my hair is de-matted and I’m clean. Feeling slightly better too. Wilbur gave me the crewneck he was wearing for comfort, before planting a kiss on my forehead and leaving the room to grab other clothes. The sounds from the outside are a lot less foggy now. I can hear the boys outside bickering and talking. “Are they okay Wil?” “What happened?” “From your face, I can tell it wasn’t good.”

I can’t help but stand weakly, the towel wrapped around me. I look in the mirror. I look a little more like myself. I touch my face, I look pale. I am pale. My hair is a bit longer now. I don’t smell bad anymore. I do feel better, but I can’t help but think I’m making Wilbur do this.

Wilbur reappears, he looks at me and smiles. He hands me the clothing he picked out before leaving the room once again, though he stands just outside the door.

I dress quickly. Slipping on Wilbur’s crewneck once I have my shirt on. I walk out, giving Wilbur a small smile. “You uh–You didn’t have to do this.” He takes my hand and leads me through my now clean apartment. “I did. Because if I didn’t–If we didn’t, you’d be dead right now, or you’d have killed yourself soon.” He says, sitting me down at the table that’s been cleared off. “Now, be honest. When is the last time you remember eating something?” He asks. 

My face drops. That’s the thing–I can’t. “Uh–Tuesday?” I say, like I even know what day it is, his face falls. “It’s Friday.” He deadpans before going into the kitchen, he comes back with Ash, Mark, and Joe. They each have both in their hands. Wilbur has two.

“It’s just soup. Easy on the stomach.” Joe pipes up before sitting on my right, Wilbur sits on my left, and Ash and Mark sit across from me. “We don’t need to talk about things right now, no one is going to make you. But you need to talk to someone soon. Maybe not us, but someone.” Wilbur said, putting his hand on my knee. “Yeah. I think I can do that.” They smile, I eat my soup, and for the first time since September–I feel permanent.