#and drank quite a bit more than I thought I could without feeling drunk

[reminiscingtonight]

neighbor, drunk, puppy

Alexia Putellas

Just A Doorstep Away (Alexia Putellas x Reader)

[WOSO Masterlist]

Alexia wakes up to something wet. 

Cringing, she jerks back. Only to let out a groan at the nausea that sets in at the sudden motion. 

The blonde lifts two hands to rub at her face. 

God, she’s hungover. A little too hungover. Guess that’s what she gets for going out with the team after winning another trophy.

After her 5th shot things started to get a bit hazy. All Alexia remembered was Ingrid shoving both her and Mapi into a taxi at some point, the Norwegian mumbling something about babysitting children.

Before Alexia can continue to piece together how her night ended, another wet dollop lands roughly against the back of her arm.

Grunting, Alexia slides one of her hands away so she can open an eye.

What she sees has Alexia letting out a frightened yelp, ignoring her nausea to scoot backwards on the bed.

There’s a dog, a very big dog, staring at her with big doe eyes next to the side of her bed. 

Almost as if it’s just realized Alexia’s finally awake, the dog lets out a loud bark. It’s tongue hangs out afterwards, the dog looking happy to have some company.

Alexia can feel her heart beating at a thousand miles per hour. 

Unless she made a purchase or dropped by a shelter sometime between going to the bar and waking up, there is no reason there should be a dog staring back at her like she’s a plate of meat. 

Now, Alexia isn’t a dog hater. She had Nala for quite a long time, of course. But the fact lies therein that Nala was a small, lap dog. Her precious little ball of fur.

This dog? Well it’s at least five times larger than Nala was, definitely larger than any type of dog Alexia would ever be comfortable owning.

“Buen perrito,” she whispers nervously.

The dog simply cocks a head at her before letting out another happy bark.

What happens next Alexia can only describe it as a mini stare-off, the footballer not daring to move and her four-legged alarm clock seemingly more than happy to stare right back at her.

Eventually, when it seems clear that the pup wouldn’t get another reaction out of Alexia, it turns on its heels, slowly trotting out of the room.

Sighing out in relief, Alexia rolls back onto her back. 

With her head pounding like a jackhammer, Alexia decides she’ll just have to deal with her uninvited guest at a later date. Forget giant, unexplainable dogs, Alexia’s got to go find some pain medicine and--

It isn’t until Alexia’s properly taking in her surroundings that she realizes that she is not in her bedroom like she originally thought. 

“Oh no.”

When Alexia finally musters up the courage to leave the room she’s in, she’s met with the aroma of something stomach-grumbling inducing and a woman standing in front of the stove.

Without turning around, you hum out a greeting.

“Er… good morning?” Alexia hesitantly replies back.

When you finally turn around to greet her, Alexia can feel all of her breath leave her lungs. 

Alexia’s a pretty simple woman who has eyes. And what she sees has her wishing she could remember more about how her night ended.

You gesture towards the counter and Alexia sits without a second thought. Mere seconds later you slide a plate towards her, filled with eggs, bacon, and toast.

The dog from earlier comes back around, headbutting Alexia’s leg as if to ask for some food.

“No es tuyo,” you scold, shooing away your dog. “Sorry, Maria begs for food from everyone.”

Alexia’s mouth twitches without meaning to. Mapi’s going to throw a fit when Alexia tells her about this hot stranger with a dog that shares her name later.

Speaking of explaining this to her friends later…

Alexia nervously scratches at her neck. “Thank you for the hospitality and breakfast but… did we do something last night? I think I drank too much.”

You snort. “I think that would be an understatement.”

Alexia can’t stop her hackles from rising defensively. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

She shakes her head, ignoring the way her vision seems to shake at the motion. “Actually, sorry, do I even know you?”

“Nope. But I know you.” You seem to cringe the second the words come out of your mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to make that sound so creepy. I’m 4B.”

When Alexia gives you a blank look you roll your eyes. 

“I live down the hall from you.”

This time Alexia frowns. Out of the scenarios she made up, neighbor was not one of them. “Not to be rude but why the hell did I wake up here if I live down the hall?”

You shrug, digging into your own plate of breakfast. Alexia pretends not to notice when you slip your dog a piece of bacon despite chastising her earlier. 

“Drunk you seemed to think that my place was yours. I could barely get you into the guest room, let alone drag you back home.”

Alexia flushes at your words. She drops her face into her hands in embarrassment. “Sorry.”

You laugh, a light sound that has Alexia’s heart skipping a beat. “It’s fine. I’ve been meaning to introduce myself to you for weeks. You just helped me get over my nervous phase. It’s hard to find someone scary when you’ve seen them trip over their own feet.”

Alexia lets out another groan of embarrassment, but this time there’s an amused smile on her lips.

You might be neighbors, but she can find herself getting used to this.

And the way you brush fingers on her way out the door an hour later tells her that you might want that too.

#alexia putellas x reader #alexia putellas imagine #woso x reader #woso imagine #Ace writes #3wp

[buckymorelikefuckme]

I think it would be great! Plus, l have a request. What if, bucky and y/n are getting married (plus y/n is a shy one 🙂) and y/n never drank any alcohol before and on the other hand, bucky, Has already drank alcohol more than he can count. So, they go wine tasting. A week before their wedding and while they're half way doing the wine thing y/n starts to get dizzy and feeling a bit hot. To which she doesn't know that she's starting to get tipsy and bucky notices it. And with that, that means she has a low tolerance in alcohol. And when the wine take its effects, She's all goofy and doing anything without a care in the world even if it's embarrassing herself as if all her shyness is gone

thanks so much for the prompt and for your patience :) i hope you like it!

bucky barnes x reader

words: 427

Perhaps, Bucky thinks, he may have misjudged just how much of a lightweight you'd be.

You'd told him early on in your relationship that you didn't drink, not because of any other reason than you being kind of scared of making a fool of yourself. He'd thought it was cute and never pushed you to drink whenever the two of you went out on dates or to hang out with friends.

Now, you're engaged and a week away from the wedding, and the last thing that needed preparing was the wine. It was Natasha’s idea to go to a wine tasting and you were a little unsure, but then Bucky said it could be a sweet, romantic getaway before the big day. You agreed easily after that.

And besides, how bad could it really be?

“Jesus, fuck, where's the air-con in this place?” you whine, quite loudly, pulling other people’s attention towards where you and Bucky were seated.

He offers everyone an apologetic smile and turns back to you, rubbing a soothing hand along your back. “Baby, we’re outdoors. There isn't any air conditioning.”

You whine again, head flopping onto his shoulder. “But it's so hot, Bucky.”

“I think you're just a little drunk, baby,” he replies with a soft laugh.

You only had a glass and a half before you started complaining about your cheeks feeling hot, and another two glasses for your eyes to go glassy. He's been fascinated, in all honesty. He's never seen someone get drunk so fast.

“Nuh-uh!” you protest, lifting your head to blink heavy lidded eyes at him.

Bucky grins and brushes your hair away from your face. “Okay,” he agrees, placating, “but maybe we should head back to the hotel.”

You blink at him again and then you smile, slow and suggestive, tilting your chin down as you slide a hand high up on his thigh.

“Yeah? Wanna do naughty things to me?”

He catches your hand before it reaches his groin, torn between laughing and groaning. “Not when you're drunk,” he retorts gently.

Inexplicably, your eyes begin to water. “You don't want me?” you ask in a pitiful tone.

“I always want you, baby,” Bucky responds immediately. “You know you drive me crazy, can hardly control myself around you. “

“Oh,” you beam, tears forgotten. You lean into his space and plant a wet, messy kiss on his lips. “Okay. Take me home, big guy.”

When you wake up the next morning, hungover and pouting, you make Bucky swear to keep you away from the wine during the reception.

#bmlfm 1k celebration #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes #avengers fic #marvel fic

[loversj0y]

three drunk nights.

wilbur soot x gn! reader

TWs: lots of drinking and alcohol, alcohol is used as a coping mechanism (dont do this), slightly suggestive content, vomiting, jokes about vomiting, lots of pining, drunk kisses n drunk confessions

word count: 8.8k (specifically 8888 words)

note: MAR IS FINALLY POSTING WHO CHEERREEDDDDDD this fic was a tiny idea that i discussed a bit with a friend and then it just absolutely spiraled into this. this is also probably the most suggestive thing i will ever write (it's not that suggestive, i am just anxious so i actually had to ask someone if one of the lines was too suggestive so-) anyway. hope you enjoy! big thank you to everyone who chatted with me about this fic and helped me brainrot over this concept so i could actually stay motivated

taglist: @l0veb0mb1ng / @corequeen / @zooone / @melunnek / @shubblelive

When you moved to Brighton, you knew you would have to find a roommate. Rent was expensive, and your salary wouldn’t be nearly enough to live alone. You didn’t expect your roommate to end up being Wilbur Soot. You didn’t know who he was when you met him, he just seemed like a kind guy looking for a new roommate. You were a bit wary at first, when you’d only communicated over texts after seeing ads in a coffee shop, but after meeting him, you felt okay to move in. He was a genuinely nice guy, and not only did he make you feel safe, the two of you ended up getting pretty close quite quickly. It helped that he was funny and kind and had the most gorgeous eyes you’d ever seen. 

You couldn’t deny just how attractive you found your roommate. Even when you first met him, you thought he was quite fit, but you made an agreement with yourself that you wouldn’t catch feelings. You needed a place to live more than another ruined relationship under your belt.

Your heart didn’t quite agree. Within the first three weeks of living together, you’d become entranced by him, a crush that took over your body and soul. Every time you looked at him, it brought a grin across your face, and every time he looked at you, it had a wine flush rising to your cheeks. 

Regardless, you wouldn’t act on it. As overwhelming as it was, you couldn’t risk it. Wilbur is always home, so it makes it kind of hard to escape him, but at least when he’d stream, you could have time alone without having to worry about acting like a fool. 

Today was like that. When you got home from work, you could faintly hear the sound of Wilbur talking and yelling in his room, and you smiled at the sound. You changed out of your uniform foremost, grabbing some headphones as you walked into the kitchen. You used the headphones to play music, not wanting to risk disturbing Wilbur. Instead, you started making some dinner. Just something simple and easy, and you made a portion for Wilbur too. Even if he’d already eaten, you could at least save it for lunch tomorrow. You finally had a day off, and you were so incredibly excited to do nothing except lay in bed for hours. The cooking was calming too, allowing you to unwind from a stressful day. And speaking of unwinding from a stressful day, you grabbed a wine glass and poured yourself a quick glass, humming along to the song playing in your headphones. You drank and cooked at the same time, until your pasta was done, and you started preparing yourself a plate. You prepared a plate for Wilbur as well, setting it in the microwave to stay warm. You grabbed your glass of wine first, and as you went to reach for your plate, you yelped and jumped as you felt a hand on your shoulder, splashing wine across your shirt. 

You pulled your headphones off, turning quickly to see Wilbur, chuckling softly. 

“Sorry, I called out, didn’t realise you didn’t hear me over the headphones.” He smiled softly, then frowned when he saw your shirt, “Sorry. Didn’t mean to make you jump.”

You shook your head softly, “It’s alright. Didn’t realise you were done already,” you hummed, grabbing a napkin even though you knew your shirt would need a lot more than just that. “I made you some pasta too. It’s in the microwave, I didn’t want it to get cold.”

He smiled fondly, humming, “Thanks.” He reached for his plate, and you walked to your room to change quickly. “Did work go well?” He called out as he sat down on the couch.

“Eh, it was fine,” you called back to him. “How was your stream?” You asked, walking back into the room to pour yourself another glass of wine before eating. 

“It went well. Just did some Geoguessr.” 

You nodded, sitting next to him on the couch as you began eating. You grabbed the remote, tossing it to him. 

He chuckled and took it, putting on some random YouTube videos for you to watch while you ate. Most of the meal was silent, occasional quips in between videos being the most spoken until you finished your food. You washed your plate quickly, knowing you’d be annoyed if you left it for tomorrow. Wilbur did the same after, humming as he looked around the cupboards. 

“You’re off tomorrow right?”

You nodded, “Yeah, why?”

“You want a drink?” He hummed, grabbing a bottle of vodka from the cupboard. You thought about it. It’d been a while since you drank anything, and it’s not like you had any obligations tomorrow anyway, so…

“Sure,” you hummed, “Just use a mixer. You are not getting me to drink anything straight ever again.”

He rolled his eyes, “That was one time.” 

“One time that resulted in me throwing up in a parking lot,” you remind him. He chuckles, starting to pour the drinks, “And now you have a very fun night out story to tell people.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes, “Yes, and I’d like to keep the number of those stories at one.”

He hummed a bit, shrugging as he handed you a drink, “We’ll see. Cheers.” You tapped your glass against his, taking a quick sip.

“Wow, for once? It actually tastes drinkable.” 

He snorted and rolled his eyes, “I know what I’m doing.” He grinned, and you followed him over to the couch, sitting down next to him.

As the drinks flowed, so did words and stories from both your lips as you sat next to each other, the TV having been forgotten in respect to the far more interesting view in front of you. Wilbur’s cheeks were dusted in pink from the alcohol, and you were almost certain that yours matched. Though it wasn’t just the alcohol in your case. 

“Have you ever really been in love?” He’d asked a few minutes ago, and it brought on a whole conversation about past love.

It’s not like your case was tragic. It just wasn’t exactly the most loving either.

“Honestly? My ex was the most boring person you’d ever meet. Even now, it’s been almost two years since he and I were together, right?” You chuckled softly, “I couldn’t tell you a single thing about his personality. He wasn’t even interested in anything. And it’s not like he was mean or anything, the relationship was fine, but he barely even kissed me. Like if it’s been about two years since before we broke up, it’s probably been like two and a half since I’ve last been kissed.” You laughed, finding amusement in it, as morbid as that seemed.

“Really?” He asked, “Even when me and my ex broke up, we’d still at least been kissing by that point. Granted, that was only a few months ago, but still.”

“I’m serious, it was,” you hummed, “it was something to say the least. Truthfully, I question if maybe I’m just a shit kisser or something. Sometimes I wonder if I’d even remember how to kiss someone at this point.”

He tilted his head a bit, “Hm, I doubt you’d be a bad kisser. Have you ever- like- practised with someone? So they can tell you?”

You snorted, almost choking on your drink, “God, no, I, never,” your cheeks flamed as you shook your head. “Never was really close enough to anyone to do that, I guess.”

He was silent for a quick moment, “Would you?”

The bright blush on your cheeks didn’t falter as you spoke, “I’m not sure, uhm, it depends on who it is and-”

“Me.” He hummed, a grin on his face. “If you wanted to practise, and I offered, would you?”

This was incredibly dangerous territory for your brain. The logical part of you probably would’ve ended the conversation, switching topics onto something you felt that you could discuss safely without your heart trying to overtake it. But honestly, before you could even consider the consequences, the alcohol had knocked down the filter in your brain, leading to your easy response of, “Yeah.”

That brought a slight blush to Wilbur’s cheeks, and god, you didn’t even have the words to describe how gorgeous he looked right now with his tousled hair, loose striped shirt giving you a peek at his collarbone, and the alluring pink that covered his cheeks. He set his drink down, though the glass was empty anyway, and he shifted a bit closer to you.

“Do you want to practise? I can give you a thorough review.” Despite his big words, his blushing was just as bad as yours. 

You should say no. This is probably a bad idea. It’s a terrible fucking idea. It’s a bad idea.

“Yeah.”

Wilbur didn’t hesitate, his hand wrapping around your neck and pulling you in for a kiss. It was soft for about half a second. Then it was passionate, your arms wrapping around his neck and gasping into the kiss. One hand moved down to your lower back, holding you close as the kiss deepened. After a moment, he pulls away, panting. 

“You’re definitely not a bad kisser.”

He doesn’t even give you a chance to respond, pulling you in for another heavy kiss, warmth radiating through you. You knew nothing would escalate past this, but you didn’t even want it to. The way he kissed you had you reeling, gasping into his mouth as he held you close. You ran a hand up, tugging at the ends of his hair and making him groan against your lips. The sound was melodic, and you wanted nothing more than to hear it again. God, you knew it was wrong. You were so fucking in love with this man, and you were both drunk, and he was just doing this as a bit of a favor. But fuck, you were going to allow yourself to indulge this once. This was probably going to be the only time you ever got to kiss him, and you knew tomorrow the both of you would pretend this never happened. 

Your prediction was correct. The next day, when you finally rose from bed with a brain-splitting headache, Wilbur was standing in the kitchen. Neither of you brought up the kiss and things went on, business as usual. You didn’t regret the kiss, per se. However, it definitely made your heart heavier whenever you saw Wilbur. The kiss was something you’d never recover from, but you had to try. 

You devised a plan. Maybe you just needed to meet someone new. Someone to get your mind off Wilbur. And what better place to find a person who will most definitely be a mistake than a pub. While you were planning to go alone, Wilbur had seen you getting ready and asked where you were going. You could’ve lied. Call you weak, but when he looked at you with those soft eyes and gentle grin, you just couldn’t.

“The pub,” you answered simply, “Do I look alright?”

He took a moment to look over your outfit and nodded, “Yeah, looks good. I’ll get dressed, and I could join too? If- if you want, I mean-” he stuttered a bit, not wanting to impose. 

You should’ve said no. But you were just so weak to him, “Yeah, sure. That’s fine. You can invite whoever too.”

He nodded, “I’ll see if Toms and his girlfriend want to join, yeah?”

You nodded again, humming softly. He walked to his room, presumably to change, and you fucking prayed that Tommy and Molly would be joining. You didn’t think you’d be able to go an entire evening of drinking alone with Wilbur without making some sort of mistake. You pulled on a coat, grabbing a sip of water before you left, trying to prevent another morning of groaning in pain and shut curtains. Wilbur walked back out from his room, and you mentally cursed yourself for just how good he looked. His black button up that he left just slightly unbuttoned at the top had your mind reeling, and you quickly shifted your eyes away. Tonight was not the night for thoughts like those; you were trying to get over him.

“Tommy said they’ll meet us there, sound good?” He asked as he grabbed his wallet.

Thank god. “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He held the door open for you to walk out, and you paused to let him lock the door to your flat. 

“Any reason you wanted to go out tonight?” 

“Not really,” you hummed, walking side by side with him. “Just felt the urge to get out of the house, I guess.”

He nodded, “Oh, yeah, I suppose neither of us really get out that much.”

“You get out less than I do. I’m shocked you even go into the sun anymore, you vampire.”

He laughed, head tilting back with a grin, “I’m not that pale. And I don’t bite, I just look like I do.”

The bump on your lip last week begged to differ. 

“You do look like you would. What’s the opposite of an ankle biter? Because you’re too tall for that. Maybe a scalp biter.”

He snorted, “Careful, tease me too much and maybe I’ll stoop to that level.”

God. You knew it was meant as an innocent joke, but fuck, you were too sober for this. 

You gave a half-hearted chuckle, “Right, mmhm. Not my fault you’re just that tall.”

He rolled his eyes, placing his arm onto your head, “You’re just mad you need help grabbing things off the top shelves.”

“Listen, they just shouldn’t make things unreasonably tall. You are an outlier here.” You moved your head from under his arm, huffing.

“Mmhm, console yourself however you please.”

The walk felt pretty short between all of your shared joking, and you had to continuously remind yourself that you were trying to get over him, not fall further in love. When you two arrived, you were thankful that Tommy and Molly were already there, at least allowing you to have some semblance of a mental break from his stupid, gorgeous face and mind. You shared a quick hello, sitting across from Molly, and taking a moment to look around and scope out the place. You were focused on trying to see if there was anyone that interested you when Wilbur nudged your arm.

“I’m going to grab a drink, you want anything?”

You hummed, nodding, “Rum and coke. A double.”

He raised an eyebrow, then chuckled, “Alright. Sure.”

He walked to the bar, and you let out a soft sigh. You felt bad being so relieved that he walked away, but there was a certain level of stress associated with being around him and hiding your feelings. You met knowing eyes from Molly, and you huffed, looking away.

“Soo, how’ve you been?” She asked, and you could sense the undertones there.

“Fine. Hoping to find someone tonight. You know how it is.”

Molly nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. Tommy was none-the-wiser to the secret conversation you and Molly had, speaking up, “Oh, yes, I definitely know how it is. Ah, young love, young love. Sometimes, you know, young love is right under our noses.” He poked at his nose, pushing it up to accentuate his point. 

You nodded slowly, “Right. Well. It’s been long enough, I think. About time to get back out there.”

Tommy seemed hesitant to this, “I doubt people here will be the best pick.”

“Probably not, but it’s pretty good practise, right? Flirting with strangers?”

“Sure. I mean, I flirted with so many women to be ready to flirt with Molly.”

You snorted, “Sure, Tommy. How many women did you flirt with, then?”

“Tommy?” Wilbur spoke up, having returned with your drink and his own, “None. Tommy doesn’t know how to flirt.”

Tommy gasped, “I do know how to flirt! You don’t! I have given you so many tips, Wilbur, and which one of us is in a relationship? Not you!”

Wilbur was laughing, rolling his eyes in response to Tommy’s annoyed griping, “Sure, Tommy. And how many times have you tried to get Phil and Kristin to divorce?”

Tommy went to respond, but he was stumped by Wilbur nonetheless.

Drinks and stories had been shared, you and Wilbur both feeling the familiar warmth of drunkness coming over you. It’d been almost two hours, and you still hadn’t even spoken to a single new person. You knew you’d lose your chance soon, and thankfully, you had a convenient way to slip away from the table. 

“I’m going to use the bathroom and grab another drink, any of you want one?” 

Molly and Tommy turned you down, but Wilbur was quick to ask for another drink with a grin that made your knees weak. You nodded, heading straight for the bar. You didn’t actually need to use the bathroom; you simply wanted an excuse to be gone for a bit longer. 

You walked to the bar, standing there alone for a moment, both to get used to the drunken perspective and to scope out any prospective flirts. It didn’t take long. 

The man next to you was tall (not as tall as Wilbur), with slightly wavy brown hair (not as soft looking as Wilbur’s), and hazel eyes (not as gorgeous and deep as Wilbur’s). The important part about him was the look he gave you; not quite undressing you with his eyes, but not innocent either. A haunting middle ground for you to discover what would likely become a mistake. 

“Well, hey there,” he grinned, turning his body towards you, “You look like you could use a drink.”

You ignored the fact that you knew you looked and felt plastered already, letting a giggle pass from your lips, “And so what if I do?”

He smirked, turning to the bartender and ordering for you. A vodka cranberry. The drink seemed to reflect the man as well; basic and not the best choice, but at least a consistent one. You could always trust a man to be consistent in his ways, at least. 

He handed the drink to you, and you took it with a smile, taking a sip, “Well, why thank you.” You chuckled, causing a laugh to bubble slightly from him. 

“So, what’s a pretty person like you doing alone in a bar like this?” 

You weren’t alone, and you were the exact reason men like this went to a pub like this. You held your tongue, “Looking for something new, I suppose.”

“Oh? A lost soul, then,” he grinned, taking a sip from his pint, “I can respect that. I think all of us are lost in some way.”

Jesus fucking Christ. “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. I think the society we live in makes us feel lost. Always searching for something new. You know, I read this article-“ you tuned the rest of his sentence out, watching his lips move and nodding in key occasionally. 

“That’s really interesting,” you hummed after he finished, “So, what are you doing here then?”

He chuckled, and you could feel a weird response coming on, “Anything. Seeing where the wind takes me. Finding some action, maybe, if that’s what’s decided for me tonight.”

You wanted to rip your hair out. “And if that is what the universe has decided for you?”

He smirked, and it did nothing for you, unlike the butterflies in your chest when Wilbur did the same. He brought a hand to your hip, “Well, guess it’s just my lucky day, then. If the universe presents me with an opportunity, who am I to turn it down?”

“You big on fate then?”

“Sure,” he nodded, “I find that fate is one of the most interesting things in life. The way it brings people into our lives. It’s fascinating.” 

You drank about half of your drink before responding. “Yeah, it is. It defines things in your life before you even have a chance to know them.” You didn’t even believe that. You hated the idea that your life could be predetermined and decided by some other force and leave you no opportunity to change anything. 

“God, yeah, it’s amazing,” he spoke, his hand wrapping a bit closer to you, “I’m not sure anyone’s told you, but you’re really smart. Smart and pretty.”

Wilbur had told you that. Probably a million times now, calling you a genius simply for being able to reset your wifi router. But you didn’t want to think about Wilbur now. 

You allowed the alcoholic flush on your cheeks to be mistaken for a blush, smiling with faux-shyness, “Wow, thank you.” 

“Yeah, you know, a lot of guys don’t see the beauty of a beautiful mind, but I think it’s the best quality, to not be an airhead like most people here are.”

You wanted to slam your head against the wall. Instead, someone slammed into you from behind, pushing you forward into the guy’s arms. Your hand came up to rest on his arm, craning your head up to look at him, resisting the urge to glare at the person behind you. At least from this angle, you could pretend the man you were speaking to was cuter than he actually was. 

He chuckled, holding you up against him, sighing, “God, some people really are dicks.” One hand came to your chin, and you hummed. 

“Yeah, at least you’re not.” You smiled softly. You had to at least act like you weren’t in love with someone else for this to hopefully work. You let your hand raise further up to his shoulder, eventually resting in the cusp between his shoulder and neck. You leaned in a bit closer, ready to spur some flirtatious line about how his lips taste when you were being yanked away. 

You stumbled, only gaining footing when you were pulled outside, coming face-to-face with a pissed Wilbur. 

“Will? What the fuck is your problem?” 

“Oh, my problem?” Wilbur chuckled bitterly. His words were slurred slightly, not unlike yours. He pinched his eyebrows together, scoffing softly, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

You gave him an incredulous look, arms crossing, “I was talking to someone, Wilbur, is that a fucking problem?”

“Oh, sure, you can call it talking all you want. You were throwing yourself at him.”

Your jaw dropped. “You’re fucking kidding me, right? You’re- you’re pissed because I was flirting with someone?”

“That wasn’t flirting, you were about to fucking make out with him! You don’t know him, I’m trying to look out for you!” 

“Wilbur, you’re acting like I was begging him to fuck me or some shit, I was just flirting! He seemed like a nice guy, God forbid I try to actually find a relationship for once!” You felt insane having to defend flirting with a stranger to a man you not only loved, but just a few weeks ago spent hours making out on your couch. You tried not to think on it much. 

“You cannot possibly think that was safe! You have no clue if he’s actually a nice guy!”

“Oh, I have no clue if he was a nice guy?”

“Yeah, you, he could’ve been a total prick, and you were basically crawling into his lap, begging him to kiss you!”

“For fuck’s sake, Wilbur, don’t act all high and fucking mighty about this, need I remind you, you’re the only who made out with me!”

“Yeah, and I’m not the one going off and throwing myself across the lap of the first person to buy me a drink!”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” You scoffed. You were aware of people staring at the two of you. You were outside and weren’t exactly quiet, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. “If that’s what you think about me, I may as well just go back in there and make out with him right there! At least then I’ll be matching whatever fucking description of me you have in your mind.” 

“You know what? Fine! Knock yourself out! Serves me right for trying to keep my best friend safe, just don’t come crawling back to me when he breaks your heart or leaves you drunk and stranded!” 

You groaned in annoyance, watching as he walked away, leaving you in front of the bar.

“Fuck you, dickhead!” You yelled after him, and he didn’t respond, just kept walking. 

You panted, yelling out in frustration into the cool night. You kicked the brick of the wall, whimpering in pain afterwards. You turned and sat on the ground, leaning your back against the wall as you just breathed.

You focused on breathing until you could focus on the lights around you, signs illuminated by fluorescent street lamps. You willed away the tears that blurred the words. The argument was sobering, to say the least, every aspect of a hangover hitting you all at once now that you sat against the cool brick. Fuck. You felt miserable, both from the sobering feeling and the fact that your best friend and roommate currently seemed to fucking hate you. And the worst part is you didn’t even get why! Like, yes, you were being reckless, you can attest to that, but you’ve been reckless before. He’s been reckless with you. With your heart. You can’t blame him for that; he had no way of knowing how horribly in love with him you were. 

The worst part was that it didn’t even work. Flirting with a stranger only brought you greater reminders of how in love with Wilbur you were. Fighting with Wilbur only made you worry that you’d never get over him. You should hate him right now. He said horrible fucking things; he was a prick, an asshole, a dickhead. There weren’t enough swears to properly convey just how mean he’d been. In the morning, you’d give him more sympathy for being drunk and not having enough of a filter to process what he was saying. But in this moment, you gave him no sympathy, and you still felt like you would tear your heart out and hand it to him if he asked. 

Everything sucked. You were cold, shaking from anger, exhausted, and just downright fucking sad. Usually when you were upset like this, you’d just go to Wilbur for some cheering up, but you’d be damned before you faced him again tonight. Which left you two options. Either staying out until Wilbur was hopefully asleep or asking Tommy if you could crash at his. Knowing Wilbur, he wouldn’t be asleep until three or four at the most. 

You didn’t want to go back inside. Didn’t want to face the stranger you’d flirted with, have to entertain another conversation that would lead nowhere. You would just wait. You’d sit here and close your eyes and just wait until Tommy and Molly came out. 

“-y? Y/N?” You felt yourself being shaken slightly, eyes opening blearily. 

Tommy was crouched in front of you, one hand on your arm. 

“Oh, shit,” you groaned, rubbing your eyes softly. It was still dark, and you could still see the same couple Wilbur passed at the end of the corner when he’d left, so it couldn’t have been much later. “Must’ve drifted off, I guess.”

Tommy frowned, looking around. “Have you just been alone out here? Where’d Wilbur go?”

“We got into a fight,” you sighed, running a hand down your face, “Uh, would it be possible to crash on your couch tonight? I’d rather not face Wilbur again tonight.” 

“Yeah, yeah, that’s fine,” he frowns softly, “Do you want to head there now, or do you need us to sit with you for a moment?”

You shake your head and sigh, “I’d rather head there now.” You stood up slowly, Molly coming to help you up as well. 

“Was it a bad fight then? He said he was just going to check on you,” she asked softly, Tommy starting to lead the way back to his apartment. 

“It was… rough. Think he hates me,” you admitted in a soft voice, and she frowned, rubbing your back gently.

“I’m sure he doesn’t. Wilbur’s just a little bitch,” Tommy sighed, and you could hear a mixture of disappointment and fondness in his voice.

You didn’t respond, and the topic dropped.

When you woke up in the morning, it was with the groan of a headache and a sore back. Tommy’s couch wasn’t uncomfortable per se, but it was bad enough to have you holding your back as you slowly sat up. The sunlight streaming in through the blinds made you wish that you had sunglasses, or some form of lightswitch to just shut the sun off. You grabbed your phone, sighing as you unlocked it. There were probably a hundred texts just from Wilbur, along with a few missed calls from the morning. As you scrolled and started reading the texts, another call came through. You huffed, setting your phone down and letting the call ring out.

“It’s been doing that all morning,” Molly hummed, emerging from the kitchen. She set a mug in front of you, and you took it thankfully.

“And here I was hoping to forget last night,” you chuckled bitterly.

She sighed, “He won’t let that happen. He feels like shit. He was on call with Tom for like an hour. Probably just got off, if anything.”

“Did he tell him I was here?”

“No,” she chuckled, “I wouldn’t let him. Figured you’d be too hungover to actually be able to handle that.”

“Thank you,” you sighed, running a hand through your hair, “You wouldn’t happen to have painkillers, do you?”

She nodded, standing and coming back with a small bottle in her hand. You took it from her gratefully, taking two and setting the bottle back on the table.

Tommy walked out, smiling a bit, “Well, I finally got Wilbur to calm down a bit. He knows your safe, but he’ll probably keep texting you until he heads to his office.”

You nodded, opening your phone and turning on Do Not Disturb, “Do you know when he’ll get to the office?”

Tommy shook his head, “Not sure. He won’t stream until later for sure, if he does, but I know he had editing to deal with and some band stuff.”

“Isn’t that stuff he could do from home?” “Possibly? Can’t say for sure.”

You nodded, sighing softly. You wanted to go home, take a shower and eat the pint of ice cream you had in the back of the freezer. “Is there anyway you can get him out of the apartment so I can sneak back in?”

Tommy frowned, “That bad?”

“I just don’t think I can do it today. I can talk to him tomorrow, but today is too much.”

Tommy nodded, “I can text him, see if he wants to get coffee or something?”

“Please, if you can.”

Tommy grabbed his phone, calling Wilbur.

“Hey, Will, any updates?” He asked, giving an overexaggerated wink to you and Molly. Molly stifled a laugh, and you gave a bit of a smile. You couldn’t quite make out what Wilbur was saying, but Tommy was responding a moment later.

“Well, I’m sure they’ll respond soon. They’re probably still asleep, mate. You might need a distraction.”

A chuckle, and a nervous glance towards you and Molly. 

“Yeah, no, I just mean like, we could grab coffee or something. A little pick me up since you’re all upset.”

Tommy listened closely for a moment then seemed to relax, giving you a thumbs up. You relaxed and stood, letting him finish the conversation while you went to splash some water on your face. God, you looked fucking rough. You ran your hands through your hair to try and fix it up a bit, though there wasn’t much of a success there. You used cool water to try and lessen the bloat of your cheeks, sighing when you didn’t have much of progress there either. 

You sighed, walking back out of the bathroom. Tommy was stood up, pulling his shoes on.

“Molly and I are going to head there, and we’ll text you whenever he’s there. My spare is under the mat, so just lock the door and put the key back once you’re done, alright?”

You nodded, “Thanks again, Tommy.”

He nodded, “it’s no problem. Try and talk to him when you can, alright? He’s genuinely upset over whatever happened.” “I will.”

You did not end up talking to Wilbur. Not that day nor the day after. Every time you thought about it, you just felt sick to your stomach. You snuck in the apartment with Tommy’s help, using the time he was out of the apartment to grab some food to keep in your room, and then you just used your room like a shelter. You heard Wilbur come back. You knew that he knew you got home: your shoes were left by the door and your keys hung up on the rack. But he didn’t try to say anything.

Until the day after. He was usually asleep when you left for work, and you assumed the same was true that day. After you came back from work, you snuck past his room, moving quickly to your own in case he heard. An hour after, you heard him knocking on your door, quietly asking if you were there. 

You didn’t answer.

The next two days were a complete repeat. Sneaking out, avoiding him when you got back, ignoring him when he tried to talk. You don’t even know why you were so against talking to him. You wanted to fix it; you couldn’t stand living like this, and you wanted your best friend back. It hurt, though, because every time you thought about him, you thought about the fight. He was a bit drunk, and he always was a bit loose-lipped when drunk, but you couldn’t wrap your mind around why. Why he said those things, why he cared so much about some harmless flirting. You know he didn’t actually think you were someone who slept around or something, but it hurt nonetheless. You were banging your head against a wall trying to understand why he said those things, and it had you grasping at straws, questioning if you two were as close as you thought. You honestly just didn’t know what to think.

You needed to get out of the apartment. You felt a knot in your throat at the idea of going there. So you didn’t.

After work, you just went to the pub. It was the same one from that night, but you just sat at the bar and drank a bit, trying to get your mind off… everything. Your head was swirling with thoughts about the fight, about how much you love Wilbur, about how much you thought he hated you. You didn’t keep track of how much you were drinking. You didn’t feel it at first either. Not until you could barely keep your head up, words slurred as you closed your tab. You stood up, stumbling over your own feet and falling directly into a familiar friend.

“Y/N?” Tommy asked, holding your arms to steady you.

You smiled, blinking a bit as your eyes focused on him, “‘ey, Toms, w’as up?”

His face was full of concern. You found it funny, giggling to yourself as he spoke, “Are you alright?”

You gave him a thumbs up, giggling out, “Mmhm, I’m fuckin’ fantastic.”

“You are fucked, mate, where’s Wilbur?”

You pouted a bit, “He’s at home, like a loser. Di’n’t wanna be invitin’ him for our first conversation since- yeah.”

Tommy’s eyes widened a bit, and he sighed, ruffling a hand through his hair, “Alright, stay here. I’m gonna tell my mates something, and then I’ll be right back, okay? Have you drank water?”

You shook your head, and he nodded again, walking up to the bar where you’d just been and ordering a water. 

“Wait for the water for me, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

You nodded, and he walked away quickly. You turned back towards the bar, waiting patiently, oh so patiently, for the water Tommy had ordered. You could understand why he seemed concerned, but it didn’t really cut through the haze in your mind. You were fine. You couldn’t see straight or stand straight, but you were fine. Everything was so, so perfectly fine. The bartender gave you the water, and you took it, holding it carefully for Tommy. He’s such a nice person, he deserved nice things. When he came back, he took your arm, guiding you outside. 

“Here, take a seat,” he helped you sit down against the wall, pulling his phone out.

“I got your water,” you hummed, holding up the glass.

He chuckled softly, “it’s for you, drink it. I need to make a call.”

You nodded, taking a sip. He stayed stood up as he made a call, words hushed just enough so you couldn’t hear them. Not that you were really able to focus on it much anyway. Your head felt light, but your body felt heavy. Everytime you touched your skin, it felt like it wasn’t your own hands touching you, every nerve felt separated from yourself. Most of all, you were tired. You wanted to sleep. Your head hung forward, and you let your eyes slip closed for a few minutes, just to rest them. 

You weren’t allowed to for long. Tommy gently shook your arm. It felt like a sick parallel of just a few nights ago.

“Hey, don’t fall asleep on me, alright? I’ll get you home soon.”

You groaned softly but nodded nonetheless. 

He sighed, crouching in front of you, “make sure you drink that water alright? Not too fast though.”

You gave him a thumbs up, this one weaker than before. You took another sip of the water, rubbing your face a bit.

“Did you tell anyone that you were even coming here?”

“Nope,” you hummed, popping the ‘p’. “Too- too sad.”

“Too sad?” He frowned, “Is this because the whole Wilbur thing?”

You nodded, and you couldn’t fight the slight tears brimming your eyes, “I just… I don’t get why. I-” you choked on a weak sob, head falling forward again as you quietly admitted, “I love him. So, so much, Tommy.”

You could hear Tommy let out a hiss of air, almost a gasp, gently placing a hand on your shoulder, “I really think you need to talk to him. It won’t be an excuse, but I think you’ll understand it.”

“I want to, I-I’m just scared.”

“What are you scared of?”

“I’m scared that forgiving him means accepting how in love with him I am, because I know it’s hopeless. I’m scared of forgiving him and signing away my heart to someone who- who just won’t love me back,” you felt less coherent than you spoke, the drunkenness letting out slurred words you’d never let pass your lips otherwise.

Tommy frowned, pulling you into a hug as you sniffled.

“I just-” you sobbed quietly, “I feel so stupid.”

“You’re not stupid,” Tommy spoke, rubbing your back gently, “It is scary to love someone, but it’s not a bad thing. I really think you should just talk to him, I think-”

“Tommy?” 

Your heart dropped in your chest slightly upon hearing Wilbur’s voice. Tommy let go of you, standing back up to head over to Wilbur. You took the time to wipe the small tears on your face, brushing off your temporary bout of sadness. Tommy spoke to Wilbur for a moment, and you fought the urge to hang your head again. Quite poorly you fought that urge, letting your head lull slightly, the exhaustion coming in full force. You heard feet shuffling, and you could see Wilbur’s usual Docs in front of you. He crouched down, one hand gently coming onto your cheek.

“Hey, darling,” he spoke in a hushed tone, similar to how one would speak to a wounded animal, “are you feeling alright?”

You hated that you leaned into his touch, even in you didn’t have much control over your body right now. “‘M fine,” you hummed out.

He frowned, clearly not believing that, “Let’s get you home, alright?”

As much as you wanted to fight going back to the apartment with him, nothing seemed better right now than lying in your bed rather than on the cold ground. You nodded, and he carefully helped you up. You immediately stumbled, but he was quick to hold you against his side.

“I got you, it’s alright,” he hummed, pulling you into his side. He gave Tommy a bit of a wave, humming out a thank you to him, before he started walking you both home. 

The ground was swaying – or were you swaying – underneath you, and you groaned softly, leaning into his side.

“I know, I know,” he hummed softly, “if you need me to carry you, just let me know, okay?”

You snorted. “I’m fine, Wilbur,” you spoke with a slur, dragging out the word ‘fine’. 

It made him giggle a bit, and honestly, fuck him for letting out such a beautiful sound, “I know you are. You’re just a bit silly right now, hm?”

“I’m always silly, actually, you’re just a lil bitch.” 

He laughed, holding you closer, “I know I am, trust me. I very much am a ‘lil bitch’.”

You hummed, nodding, “Glad you know it.” You couldn’t stop the words that came out next, “you’re my lil bitch.”

If you’d been looking at his face, you probably would’ve caught the slight flush that covered his cheeks. 

“Yeah,” he hummed, “I am.”

You gave an affirmative nod, leaning your head on his shoulder slightly as you looked up at the world.

“Wilbur.”

“Yes?”

“The lights are moving.”

He snorted softly, “What do you mean, darling?”

“The streetlights are moving.”

He hummed, nodding and stopping walking. “Did that fix it?”

You glared at the streetlamps, trying to determine if they were pretending to be still, “A little, but I think they’re lying about it.”

He started walking again, chuckling, “Oh, they are?”

“Yeah,” you hummed, “Government conspiracy, innit?”

He laughed, nodding thoughtfully, “Yeah, must be. Don’t look at them too much, alright?”

“Why? Scared they’ll start running after us?”

“No,” he laughed, “Just don’t need you throwing up on the street.”

“I’ll throw up wherever I please, actually.”

“Oh, do you need to?” He asked, concerned suddenly.

“No,” you huffed, “I have a gut of steel.”

“We both know that’s not true,” He noted, relieved once again.

“How dare you, actually, that is so rude. I’m going to throw up on your shoes as protest.”

“I’d very much prefer you didn’t.” “Mm. Don’t care. You’ve shamed me,” you giggled, “The shoes will pay for it.”

He chuckled, “I sincerely apologize, darling. Will that save the shoes?”

“Hmmm,” you pretended to think. “Well, darling,” you mocked, “that will save them, but only for now. They’re on thin ice.”

He grinned, walking up to the front of your apartment building and pulling out his keys, “You ready to walk up the stairs?”

You groaned, “Why did we get an apartment on the third floor? This is a curse.”

“You got this. I can always carry you.”

“I can do it, the stairs are just evil.”

“They are evil, but you can conquer them,” he smiled, holding you tighter as he helped you manuver the stairs. 

“This sucks,” you groaned, trying to focus on your steps and nearly failing each time. 

“We’re about half way, love. You still feeling alright? Wanna stop for a moment?”

“If I stop,” you paused, “I will not continue.”

He chuckled, “Alright, good to know.”

You both continued walking up, slower than usual to make up for the fact that you could barely see straight. He helped you every step of the way, taking his time to make sure you’d be alright, which you were thankful for given the amount of times you were tripping over your feet. You finally made it up to the door, fighting the urge to just lean against it as Wilbur unlocked the door. All the movement was making you feel a bit off and even more tired before. Wilbur guided you to through the door to your room. 

He carefully sat you down on your bed, “Stay here, I’ll grab some water, alright?”

You nodded, eagerly sitting on your bed. You relaxed on the bed, pulling your phone and wallet out of your pocket and setting them on your nightstand. Wilbur walked back in, setting the glass of water and a pack of painkillers on your nightstand. He grabbed the wastebin, setting it next to the bed.

“Feeling any better?” He asked softly.

You nodded, but you paused, actually taking a moment to focus on how you actual felt. Your throat felt slightly closed, and your mouth was salivating. And your stomach felt rough. Oh fuck. You leaned over, spilling the contents of your stomach into the waistbin. Wilbur rushed over to clear your hair out of your face, gently rubbing your back as you threw up. You panted softly, gripping the edge of the bed. You cursed softly, wiping at your mouth. 

Wilbur stood, bringing you the water. You drank it thankfully while he walked out for a moment. 

He came back in with a big hoodie and a pair of shorts, and you looked down and noticed the vomit on your shirt and pants. You felt exhausted. You groaned softly, slowly getting up and taking the clothes thankfully, walking to the bathroom to change quickly. You only noticed it was his clothing after you already got dressed, and you did not feel like changing again either. You shuffled out, walking back to the bed. Wilbur was sat, waiting for you. You sat next to him, lying down with your head next to his lap. You wanted to rest your head on his lap, craving the comfort he brings you, but you felt wary to do so. Regardless, he brought a hand down, gently playing with your hair.

“I know we should talk about this more in the morning, but…” he sighed softly, “I really am sorry for what I said the other night. I just- I wasn’t thinking, and I was just drunk and upset. These are all just… excuses, but I… I really am sorry.”

“I know,” you murmured softly, “I knew it was just you being drunk, but… I just didn’t understand why and I was scared you hated me.” You spoke quietly, moving your head onto his thigh, solely so you could hide your face against his chest.

He shifted to move your head fully into his lap. “I could never hate you. I-I have a reason, but it doesn’t excuse what I did or said.”

“What’s the reason?”

He frowned, biting his lip and going silent for a moment, “I… can it wait until morning? I think I may only be able to say it once.” You felt the pit in your stomach drop, but you nodded nonetheless, burying your face further into his stomach.

“I’m sorry,” he continued, “that I brought you to this. Hiding and getting drunk and just… recklessness, I guess. I was really scared when Tommy called me.”

“I’s not your fault,” you sighed softly, “I just didn’t know what to do, I chose to do this. I could’ve just talked to you.”

“You could’ve, sure, but I was… a dick. I don’t blame you for being scared to talk to me. I said horrible stuff. I have no control over who you talk to or decide to flirt with, and it was entitled of me to even act like I do.”

You sighed, yawning quietly. You wrapped your arms around his torso gently, relaxing into him. You could feel the exhaustion taking over, eyelids heavy. 

You spoke quietly, “I was only flirting,” you mumbled, “to try and get over you.”

He tensed, but you didn’t hear his next words, sleep taking you like you ached to take Wilbur’s hand. 

In the morning, you were overwhelmed with a feeling of dread, created by a mixture of the hangover and the remembering. Shockingly, you weren’t alone. You thought once your words had processed to Wilbur, he’d have left you. Instead, you were pressed against his chest, cuddled into him. You could tell he was awake – could feel his hand gently carding through your hair – but for a moment, you just wanted to pretend. After whatever conversation was coming up, you didn’t know if you’d ever get to be wrapped up in his arms like this again. Not to mention, opening your eyes meant an imminent headache due to the daylight. So for a few minutes, you just tried to gain some comfort from this and ignore the growing dread.

But you couldn’t pretend forever. 

“Darling?” Wilbur whispered, “Are you awake?”

You sighed, groaning lightly as you nodded, “yeah.”

“How are you feeling?”

You whined softly, chuckling a bit, “Like shit.”

He chuckled softly, “I have water and painkillers, you want them?”

You nodded, and he shifted up, grabbing them from the nightstand without pushing you out of his arms. You still had to eventually, sitting up to take the painkiller and drink some of the water. You opened your eyes, and you were thankful to find that the room wasn’t as bright as you had thought it would be. You saw Wilbur watching you with concern, one hand gently rubbing your back. You set the water down, sighing softly after. 

He bit his lip before speaking, “Do you… want to talk now or when the painkiller has kicked in?”

The question you were dreading. Better to just rip the bandaid off. “Now.”

He nodded, shifting and gently taking your hand.

“Last night, you said… you were flirting to try and get over me. What did you mean by that?”

You gulped softly, closing your eyes to brace yourself for the potential rejection, “Wilbur, I… I’ve liked you for months now. And I thought I’d get over it, but it just- it just got stronger. I’m sorry if it makes you uncomfortable, and I understand if you want me to move out or something. But I wanted to at least try to flirt and see if I could get over you, and it just didn’t work. So, that’s- that’s why. I wanted to get over the crush I have on you.”

He didn’t respond for a while, and you kept your eyes closed, taking a shaky breath while you waited for him to respond.

“What if… I didn’t want you to get over it?”

Your eyes flew open, looking up at him quickly. He had a shy expression, a faint blush on his cheeks. “What do you mean by that?”

He sighed, squeezing your hand a bit tighter, “I got mad at you flirting because I was jealous. I’ve liked you for a really long time, but I didn’t want to say anything because I was scared to lose our friendship and my roommate. I asked to kiss you that night while we were drunk because I figured it’d be my only chance to ever get to kiss you. But if you’re telling me that isn’t true? Darling, I’d do anything just to feel your lips on mine again, let alone to get the chance to date you and make you happy.”

Oh. Oh. 

You moved a hand up, gently cupping his cheek. He leaned into you, and you leaned forward, pulling him in for a gentle kiss. He let out a quiet gasp, kissing you back lovingly, his other hand coming to wrap around your back. The kiss was short lived, but only so he could pull away to speak, foreheads still pressed together.

“Darling, can I,” he paused, taking a quick breath, “Will you do me the honor of being mine?”

You chuckled softly, nodding, “It’d be the greatest gift I could ask for.”

He grinned, pulling you in for another kiss, this one stronger and… just. 

You didn’t have the words to really describe it. It felt warm. Like daylight resting on your skin on a spring day. The warmth that felt like home. Like pulling clothes out the dryer and just holding them close for a moment. The warmth that came from laughter and telling stories in the middle of a summer night. It was golden.

When he pulled away, you two stayed close, panting lightly for a moment. When you finally separated fully, his arms were coming to wrap around you once more, hugging you tightly. 

“And here I was thinking that I’d lose you when I confessed.”

You hummed softly, “I thought the same.”

He smiled, pressing a kiss to the top of your head, “Well you didn’t. And I didn’t lose you. Don’t worry, either, I’ll be taking you on a proper date once you’re feeling better. For now… cereal date?”

“Hm,” you thought, “Can it be a cereal date in bed?”

He chuckled, “Absolutely it can be, my love.”

#wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot #mar writes #mcyt x reader #lovejoy #dsmp x reader #wilbur x reader #mcyt x you #wilbur soot x you #wilbur soot fanfiction #mcytumblr #mcyt wilbur

[cowgurrrl]

Don't Let This Darkness Fool You

Summary: Joel's journey to sobriety [1.1k]

Author's note: idk how i feel about this

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, ANGST, TW ADDICTION, misuse of drugs and alcohol, mention of Sarah's death and Ellie's time in FEDRA school, chronic pain, symptoms of withdrawal, Joel trying to make peace with his past, happy ending

The first time Joel goes to a meeting, he sits in the back and says nothing. He watches person after person get up and talk at the front of the room like it's the easiest thing in the world. He doesn't move. He can barely breathe in the musty church rec room as he listens to their stories and finds pieces of himself in each. The survivor left to carry on when everyone else died or left; the bereaved parent; the ruthless dealer shaking down clients to make ends meet; the addict.

Joel never felt the need to examine his relationship with substances. He drank and smoked and made bad decisions as a teenager and into young adulthood, which is partly how he became a single parent at twenty-two. After Sarah was born, he didn't have the time or energy to party anymore. Sure, he had a beer or two here, but never anything close to a bender. He always had to wake up for work and make sure Sarah got to school on time. He would just be setting himself up for failure if he drank heavily.

Then Sarah died, and nothing mattered anymore. The FEDRA doctor gave him a bottle of painkillers for the stitches on the side of his head, and he never thought twice about it. At first, it was manageable. A drink here, some pills there. His kid had just died. He was allowed to grieve however he wanted to, or that was his reasoning, at least, when it became harder to get under control. He would go from being fine to the throes of withdrawal and back to the hazy stupor that rendered him incapable of function. It was a cycle. One that Tess and Tommy hated, but he was always sober when they needed him to be, or he tried to be.

That entire year spent with Ellie, he was more scared of what would happen if he did touch the stuff than if he didn't. His objective was no longer how fast he could get his next fix. It was how fast he could get Ellie fed or somewhere safe. When they finally settled in Jackson, he felt like he could relax without the help of a neat whiskey or a handful of menacing white pills. He was good. He kicked his nasty little habit that followed him for decades and cold turkey at that. He was fine. Until the trauma from the previous twelve months finally caught up with him.

His back was permanently fucked up from falling off the horse in Colorado. He got horrible headaches, which were probably the result of one too many hits to the head and neck. His wrist clicked in pain every time he moved it too fast, and he couldn't sleep. The Jackson doctor cautiously prescribed him anti-anxiety medication and painkillers. And goddammit, if those little pills didn't make him feel the tiniest bit better. He could feel the spiral start again but was too scared to voice it or ask for help.

It wasn't until that night when he stumbled home drunk and a little high after a patrol shift and found Ellie doing homework at the dinner table. He slurred an apology, and she eyed him like a dangerous stranger when he sat across from her. They got into a fight. Joel doesn't remember what it was about, but he remembers going to bed feeling stone-cold sober even though the alcohol was still thrumming through his veins. In the morning, Ellie admitted that she hated when he drank because it reminded her of the FEDRA soldiers loudly coming home from QZ bars. Drunk men with authority and weapons are enough to scare anyone, let alone a little girl. Joel promised her it would never happen again, and he fully intended to keep his promise, but he'd be lying if he said it was easy to quit.

His hands shook in pain for the first few days, and he constantly felt sick. He was sweaty and irritable and uncomfortable. It didn't help that the other patrolmen would ask him to join them for a drink after patrols. He almost folded once. He was almost over the threshold of the Tipsy Bison before he doubled back and ended up at Tommy's door, crumpling in on himself from pain and withdrawal. It was Tommy who mentioned something about the drug addict's anonymous support group. "I'll even come with ya." His brother offered as he rubbed his back like Joel was a fussy infant instead of a grown man.

So, that's how Joel found himself white-knuckling his way through a DAA meeting with Tommy at his side. Tommy assured him that everything said in the meeting was privileged and couldn't leave the church doors. Joel was safe to say anything, and he would receive support. Still, he was so scared. He just sat and watched. It would take two more months of tears, sleepless nights, and fighting temptation before he found the strength to walk down to the front of the room.

"Hi, my name's Joel and… I'm, uh," he stumbled. "I'm an addict." He shared the bits of his story he felt comfortable sharing, but his hands wrung nervously the whole time. He was waiting for the room to turn on him or for the world to end (again), but it didn't. He said the worst things about himself and everything was… fine. "I just… wanna do better for my," he breathed deeply. "For my Ellie." He awkwardly thanked the group and moved to sit back down when the group leader, a kind-looking woman named Shawna, stopped him.

"How long have you been sober, Joel?" She asked softly, and he cleared his throat.

"'Bout four months, ma'am." He said, and she quickly turned to grab something out of her bag. Before he could ask what she was looking for, she pressed a dented circle into his hand and smiled.

"Now, it ain't as pretty as the ones back in the day, but you should be just as proud." She said before encouraging the group to applaud Joel. He felt silly receiving the praise, but when he sat back down, he couldn't ignore how much better he felt.

He didn't look at what Shawna gave him until after the meeting. He thought it was a personal thing he should see only when alone. He waited until his boots were off and he was comfortable on the couch before fishing the wonky thing out of his pocket and looking at it. It was obviously made from scrap pieces of metal, and the engraving was all wrong, but the words "4 months sober" still made him beam with pride. Joel stared at it for a few minutes before walking upstairs to Ellie's empty room and scribbling a note on her desk.

When Ellie gets home from studying with Dina and Jesse, she finds the coin on her desk beside a note in Joel's blocky handwriting. It reads, "Every single one is for you. It's all for you."

#joel miller angst #joel miller #the last of us #joel miller the last of us #joel miller fic #joel tlou #tlou angst #the last of us angst #the last of us fic #joel and ellie

[leggerefiore]

Vampirism

cw: blood drinking, vampires

kinda doing some Halloween based things but seeing as I usually write about monsters lmao

~

You watched as the Vampire Lord worked tirelessly at his desk. One might think they'd have few things to do in the modern era, but you knew that was untrue. Ingo always found methods of busying himself with things. Between running the subway system of Unova and managing vampire business, it seemed he was never without a document requiring his attention. His bat-like wings rested close to his body while he bit his lip.

Suddenly, a thought hit you.

“Ingo… When was the last time you fed?” you asked. He had not drunk from you in days, and you had not seen him go out to find blood for a while either. His features looked tired, but now you questioned whether it was from exhaustion or lack of food. If it was that, you were immensely concerned about his health. You understood his work was important, yet you wanted nothing more than for him to be happy and healthy. This was partly because you were his blood mate; the other half was wanting to avoid Emmet whining and crying about you not watching his brother.

His pen stopped scribbling against the paper as he turned to look at you. The moon's light shined beautifully through his office windows as your words weighed on him. Iridescent seas of mercury blinked before he stood. “Too long…” Ingo realised, “Oh, dearest, I'm sorry for worrying you. I simply got too busy to remember my destinations.” He seemed genuinely embarrassed and distressed despite his unmoving facial expression. The lovely eyes of his swelled with emotion. You tsk'd your tongue. This was no good.

Dark circles clung under his eyes as rubbed at them. His sleeping must have been restless, too. You had felt that he was tossing and turning beside you at night, but you kept it to yourself. Being alive for centuries could leave you with unpleasant dreams, you knew. Still, in the present, he needed to eat something. It was clear as he swayed while he stood. Easily, you presented your wrist to him. “Eat away, Ingo,” you smiled. Your blood helped more benefits for him than anyone else's due to your status. He swallowed.

“I couldn't,” Ingo shook his head and denied you, “It's cruel of me to use you as a personal supply of food.” You mimicked him with your head and pushed your hand closer to him. “Well, I don't mind,” your words were spoken with ease, “Come on, you need to eat. You're visibly unwell.” He bit his lip, but saw there was no way to ignore his hunger. An apology was murmured as he gently brought your wrist to his mouth. Fangs pierced through your skin with a practised precision. You flinched at the slight pain and shuddered at the feeling of your blood being sucked away from you.

Your precious sanguine quickly entered Ingo's system as he drank from you. Heat bloomed in your face when he let out a slight moan from the taste of your blood. His wings spread out and more was consumed from you. Just as you were beginning to worry about him taking too much, he pulled away. He licked the small crimson droplets that formed from the twins holes in your wrist. Quickly, it clotted and became invisible from sight. You sat down in a chair as your head spun. Definitely starved. You wished he wouldn't do this, but were always happy to help him.

“I apologise once more, my love,” he leaned down over you to press a kiss to your temple, “I am ever so thankful for your help… In the future, I will work to prevent this from happening again.”

“I swear, you do this every so often to just get a drink of my blood,” you joked and wrapped your arms around his neck. The coolness of his skin sunk into you, but you didn't mind, having grown used to his lowered temperature long ago.

“I do not,” he quickly retaliated, cheeks blooming with colour, “I get too involved in my work that I forget to feed. It's a bad habit I need to quit.” You nodded and pulled him to you, peppered kisses to his cheek.

“Mmm, I'll forgive you if you carry me to bed while flying,” you offered. He sighed.

“As you wish, dearest.”

#ingo x reader #ingo/reader #pokemon ingo x reader #ingo.ima

[thethumpergod]

(Eskel X Coen First chapter rough draft)

(Feel free to suggest things to make it better)

Coen's gaze swept across the scene, taking in the ambiance of the reception hall. The soft glow of the lighting accentuated the elegant decor, casting a romantic atmosphere over the entire room. Delicate flowers and flickering candles adorned the tables, adding to the allure of the space. From what Aiden told him, his family kind of took over the wedding planning, which to be fair turned out nice. 

As he watched Aiden and Lambert dance together in the center of the room, clearly trash-talking each other, Coen couldn't help but feel a sense of happiness wash over him.

"Isn't that sweet? They have it so bad for each other,” Axel slurred, his blonde spiky hair combed back into something more formal, though he kept his many piercings on. Coen glanced at him, noticing Cedric's absence. Axel continued his words blending slightly in his inebriated state. "He's taking a shit if you're wondering."

 Coen chuckled at Axel's crude remark. Earlier that day, he and Dragonfly had flipped a coin, and he had lost. Now, he found himself on drunk babysitting duty, a task he was very much used to..

Coen surveyed the room, spotting Ciri dragging Eskel to the dance floor. With a laugh, he allowed himself to be pulled into dancing by her.

Axel hummed thoughtfully, "He's cute. Maybe me and Cedric could..."

"Quit thinking with your cock," Dragonfly interjected, equally intoxicated, lipstick marks adorning her mouth, clearly not her own. This was one of the few times he'd ever seen Dragonfly in a dress, her blonde hair crammed into a tight bun. "Besides, Coen's a bit occupied fawning over him right now."

"I'm not fawning," Coen replied, a tad defensively. The two gave him a skeptical look. Okay, so Lambert's oldest brother was a bit of a looker. There are plenty of lovely-looking people in the world; that doesn't mean he wants all of them.

Axel grinned, “you know what? I feel like dancing.” He took the taller man by the arm, coaxing him onto the dance floor. “Shall we?”

Coen laughed before jokingly bowing, “It would be my pleasure.”

As Axel led the way with confident steps, his movements seemed to transcend the dance floor, fluid and effortless despite being drunk. Coen followed suit, , mirroring Axel's movements with a natural grace.

They glided across the dance floor, executing a waltz to the gentle strains of a slow melody. Coen quickly lost himself in the dance, enjoying every step as he always did. However, his reverie was abruptly interrupted when Axel paused, prompting Coen to look at him with confusion.

Coen noticed Axel's complexion turning a shade paler, a hint of discomfort evident on his face. Before Coen could inquire further, Axel spoke up urgently, "Where's the bathroom again?"

"Down the main hall to the left," Coen replied, his worry evident in his voice as he watched Axel dash down the hallway without another word, hoping he would be alright.

"Is he okay?" a voice beside him inquired, drawing Coen's attention away from the disappearing figure of his friend.

"My dance partner may have drank a bit too much," Coen chuckled nervously, trying to mask his concern.

And then, there was Eskel. Oh, he looked spectacular tonight. Taller than Coen by only an inch or two, Eskel exuded a quiet confidence that never failed to captivate. His short brown hair was neatly parted in the middle, framing a face adorned with a soft yet knowing smile. Coen couldn't help but be drawn to the warmth in Eskel's dark brown eyes, a gentleness that seemed to soothe his restless heart. Even the scar that ran through Eskel's smile only added to his undeniable charm, making Coen's pulse quicken with every glance.

Coen shook his head, trying to dispel the lingering thoughts. Surely, he would get over this crush soon; after all, it had only persisted for three years.

"Would you still be up for a dance?" Eskel asked, extending his hand toward Coen.

Coen's heart raced as he stumbled over his words, "Oh, uh, yes, yeah," he stuttered nervously.

With a soft smile, Eskel guided Coen back onto the dance floor, their bodies moving effortlessly in sync with the music. Coen couldn't tear his eyes away from Eskel, mesmerized by the way the lights played across his features, highlighting every contour of his face.

As they danced, Coen found himself leaning into Eskel's embrace, his head resting against Eskel's shoulder while his hand lightly pressed against his chest. 

“You look good in a suit, I'm normally used to seeing you in either casual clothes or firefighter gear,” Eskel said.

“I was about to say the same thing,” Coen looked him up and down. 

Eskel's arms enveloped him, pulling him closer in a comforting embrace that sent shivers down Coen's spine.

Lost in the moment, Coen couldn't help but feel like he was living out one of the romance novels he'd read so many times before. He was sure he looked like a human tomato, but he didn't care; he was determined to savor every second of this surreal experience.

"Not too shabby on your feet, Coen," Eskel remarked, breaking the silence between them.

Coen chuckled softly, "Thanks. I didn't know you could waltz."

"I once slept with a dance instructor, she taught me a few things," Eskel replied with a grin.

Coen snorted at the unexpected revelation, "Well, I learned from my family, but your story definitely sounds more interesting." He paused for a moment before adding with a playful smirk, "I did get together with a massage therapist once. I probably should have asked him to teach me a thing or two."

Eskel responded with a warm smile, shaking his head in amusement as they continued to sway to the music. Lost in the moment, Coen wasn't sure how long they danced together, but he cherished every second of it.

As the song came to an end, they locked eyes for a few more lingering seconds. A part of Coen wanted to lean in and kiss Eskel, but uncertainty clouded his mind. He wasn't sure how Eskel felt about him, so perhaps it wouldn't be the best idea.

"Yo, Coen," Gaetan's voice interrupted their dance as he approached them.

Coen refrained from groaning as they stopped dancing. "Yes, Gaetan?"

"Dragonfly and Axel are throwing up their guts. You gonna take them home," Gaetan informed him.

"Oh," Coen sighed. "Thank you for this... the dance, I mean."

Eskel gave him a soft look before nodding. "Anytime." With that, he stepped away, leaving Coen wanting to say more, to ask if they could dance together again, but he found himself at a loss for words.

Coen bit his lip before scanning the room for Aiden and Lambert. It was their wedding after all, and it would be rude not to say goodbye.

"If you're looking for Aiden and Lambert, they sneaked off together like 20 minutes ago," Gaetan explained.

It figured. They had been exchanging bedroom eyes since they said "I do."

#the witcher #artists on tumblr #art #fanart #aiden the witcher #aiden x lambert #coen x eskel #modern au

[stonerpsii]

Hello Stoner Psi! I am L (not my real initial) and my friend M (also not real initial) told me that they had talked a little bit about our impromptu party yesterday on this blog and that it is a place where people can share their experiences with intoxication for fun and without being judged. It is well past noon here and I am still in bed so I thought that I could check you out and write to you on my own. M may have shared something but I wished to come forward as well. As a person formerly from a highly restrictive household, I felt like I missed various teen partying milestones, so when M reached out to me with an offer to try smoking and drinking I decided to take them up on it, since I happen to have some vacation days right now. We met at my flat to watch Disney movies like we used to at school together, and before M arrived, I had gotten us both a bottle of white wine each. I was feeling a little nervous and excited, so I had a couple of glasses beforehand. I did not really enjoy the taste and it did not seem to affect me too much either, so I got anxious that if it does not get me drunk, it would definitely not be enough for M, who has a much higher tolerance than me. So I UberEats-ed some port, which had a higher alcohol content. M arrived with a vape that they showed me how to use (I am a bit foggy on the legality of it all where we live, but I trusted them to know what they were doing). That is where things started getting interesting! My memories of the events may be quite jumbled, but I have a distinct impression that I teleported to the TV because one moment, I was fumbling with M's vape and the next, I was standing in front of the screen, trying to run my fingers through Rapunzel's CGI golden hair. I found it incredibly hilarious and laughed so much my throat felt dry and I tried to drink the port! The more I drank, the less shitty the taste appeared. My face was burning and my reactions to the cartoon people on TV were much more enthusiastic than I could have expected at my age. I wanted to be there with them and repeat what they did, but my limbs felt like each of them had been placed in a long plastic sleeve filled with jelly. That made me laugh even more, and overall I felt an incredible joy and lightness. M was there too, drinking and snacking on some cheetos on my couch, and I reached my hand in and grabbed some. They had vaped much more than me and were not really coherent, but they did shake their head and poke their finger at the little cannabis symbol on the pack, but I did not really mind that at that point. I also recall the entire room shifting and spinning away from me, but I don't remember if it scared or excited me. M also showed a video on their phone where I lay on the floor like a star fish, moving my legs and arms and yelling 'Snow angels!!!'. And we fed each other water out of bottles, which I also poured onto my face and head because I felt so hot. All of this was quite an undertaking and I can't imagine doing it as often as M does, but I now experienced that sense of letting your body melt and just existing out of it like a spark of utter delight. Or maybe like one of those lanterns from Tangled.

hi L! it sounds like you and M got pretty blasted and had a lot of fun! cannabis cheetoes sound... interesting? but i don't care for cheetoes so i think i'll stick to cannabis pretzels for that kind of light snack. anyway, i love that feeling of your mind and body melting that you describe here! i'm glad you had a good time :D

#intox inbox

[thekingofwinterblog]

An Easy Step

Two Perspectives

<Chapter 1--- Here ---Chapter 3>

Well, since a way larger number than i thought actually liked “An Easy Step, Why not make it a series? so that is what i did. Im gonna be doing a series of overarching one shots, dealing with adult Sashanne, their relationship, their Parents, Marcy, etc. Anyway, hope you enjoy the first part of this two part look at my take on Anne learning and dealing with be Beau’s Parents.

Sasha's home was BIG, Anne mused to herself, as she lightly sipped a beer.

Her own apartment was a modest thing. Not Sasha's. Her tastes were, was, and likely always would be the full treatment. The fact her balcony was the size of Anne's apartment was proof enough of that.

Besides her, Sasha drank another beer, all in one draught, and let out a satisfied sigh as she finished.

On the opposite side lay Marcy with a grin on her face, having passed out from her drinks and lightly snoring, being way, way too lightweight compared to Anne and Sasha.

"You shouldn't have encouraged her like that."

Sasha grinned. "Hey, she brought the beer! She shouldn't… Challenge people to drinking contests, if you're not prepared for it!"

Ah, she had started pausing while talking. Soo… a bit drunk, but not near shitfaced then.

"She hasn't seen how much you can drink when you put your mind to it."

"Yeah, well… You didn't exactly stop to tell her about that either."

Despite the words, neither of the girls' tones were truly disparaging.

Sasha was right. Marcy HAD been really into doing a drinking contest with them. Apparently, she used to do something with her own friends back at her place when spitballing ideas.

With lightweight stuff. Not the kind Anne and Sasha drank.

Anne had declined, specifically because she knew exactly how it would go and so had not wanted to get a raging hangover tomorrow. 

She had work tomorrow after all, unlike Marcy, who worked in bursts of activity where she drew page after page after page, and so had loads, and loads of free time neither Anne nor Sasha had, and Sasha whose work schedule was entirely dependent on when she had scheduled appointments with her kids. That could mean an entire week with an incredibly busy schedule, or lots of extra free days.

Sasha grinned, then leaned over and gave Anne a hug. It was a strong, warm hug that made Anne feel happy and safe just like it always did… But she also knew Sasha had a nasty tendency to just… Keep hugging her until she fell asleep when she was drunk.

At least if Anne let her.

Probably wouldn't happen tonight though. She wasn't that drunk. Not yet anyway.

"Mhhhmmm…" Sasha said, laying her head down on her shoulder.

Anne sighed and decided that if they were gonna cuddle, she might as well get more comfortable.

What that entailed, was maneuvering Sasha so that she was lying on her back, her head in Anne's lap. As she sat regularly on the sofa with her legs out near the end.

Sasha let her without complaint but also blushed in an adorable way Anne almost never saw her do when she was sober.

Sasha grinned up at her.

"God… You're wonderful."

Anne chuckled.

"If you're that impressed with a lap pillow, maybe we should do this more often."

It had been meant as a lighthearted joke.

Sasha instead just closed her eyes with a grin and rubbed the back of her head against her affectionately.

"Yeah… That would be nice."

Anne blushed.

It was… Weird. She and Sasha had been in a relationship for only one and a half months now, and Anne still hadn't grown used to how… Different she was, compared to her previous partners.

It wasn't like either of them had been averse to physical contact and cuddling, quite on the contrary. But Sasha was… An entirely different beast. She craved cuddling, and drunk or not, she would use any excuse to do it.

It wasn't that Anne disliked that aspect of her. It was just… New for her. At least in a romantic context.

"You used to be pretty touchy-feely back in school too." Anne noted absently.

"Until one day you just… Stopped."

Sashe stopped rubbing her head against her, and her grin faded as she opened her eyes to look up at Anne's face.

"Yeah… Sorry about that." The tone sounded… strangely guilty.

"Any reason for that?"

She had her suspicions, but she hadn't voiced them to Sasha before. Frankly, the Blonde girl seemed embarrassed to talk about them… Drifting apart in High School.

"Yeah… It was when I… Started to realize you were… There you know?"

Sasha waved with an arm that was distinctly not operating at full capacity.

"Like… I started to realize that you were a girl and… And..." The hand went down to pinch her brow and rub her forehead.

Yep. So it had been how she thought it had been. This was when she'd actually developed feelings for her… Only to not dare act on them.

It was a feeling Anne understood really, really well, though she had reacted very, very differently.

Anne had also had a major crush on Sasha back in High school. Well, truth be told, she'd had it since about a year before Amphibia, but she'd never acted on it. She'd figured Sasha just wasn't interested in her.

It was a feeling that had only grown and grown over the years, as Anne had been pretty blatant about what she felt for years on end.

And Sasha never reacted to it. At all. At least not in a way that said she reciprocated. That she loved her as more than a friend.

So she'd come to accept that Sasha did not love her the same way she did her, and had come to terms with that at the time, and opened herself up to other people instead.

In hindsight, had she been more self-aware back then, she probably would have realized that Sasha had gone through something similar, and had either of them broken the ice and confessed, things might have gone very, very differently.

But, that was a road that had not been taken. It was best not to dwell on it. Live in the now, and don't worry about how things might have gone.

Out loud she said: "That's when you fell in love with me?"

It had been meant as a helping hand for the drunk Sasha.

Instead, her girlfriend waved her hand dismissively and replied.

"Nah… I've been heads over heels for you since we were 9."

She said it so casually like it was the most obvious thing in the world.

Anne froze.

"9? Seriously?"

"Yeah."

Maybe Sasha was a BIT more drunk than she thought.

"Sooo… What made you fall for me then?"

It was a half-serious question, and she expected a drunk answer.

Instead, Sasha looked up at her with… Sad, drunk eyes. Anne had been sorta right. Sasha WAS way more drunk than she had assumed, but… As she began talking, it wasn't some silly drunk stuff she talked about.

"When… When my mom and dad… Broke up… It was… It was bad… like…" She closed her eyes with a grimace and sought out Anne's hand. The mostly sober girl grabbed it and held it supportingly.

"Like... all hope was gone for me you know?"

She opened her eyes again and looked up at Anne with those sad, drunk eyes.

"Only time I felt as bad as then… was after… Newtopia, and… The Moon."

She did not need to clarify what she meant by "Newtopia". Both of them tended to dance around "Newtopia" as a topic like it was a live flame. It was a period of deep, deep shame for both of them. Sasha in the throne room, and her at the Gatehouse.

"Anyway… I… My Dad… He wasn't a good dad… He never defended me from… My Mom…"

Sasha never liked to talk to her parents. It was a topic she had avoided like the plague since childhood, and Anne and Marcy had just learned to not talk about it. At all. That hadn't changed since they had reconnected earlier in the year.

It was the first time she had ever really heard Sasha truly talk about her parents beyond just mentioning them. Her choice of words though immediately conjured up images for Anne. Very, very bad ones. 

Not defend. 

"You… You mean she… Beat you?"

Sasha let loose a sound, a pitiful one that was something between a cry and a snort.

"Nah… She never… Never beat me… Never touched me… The police might have cared then… But she… She said stuff to me… well… Yelled."

"Like what?" Anne whispered, genuinely horrified.

This was Sooooo not where she'd expected this night to go.

"Like… Like that I was… Trash… that belonged in the garbage…"

Sasha was crying now, not heavily so, but she was.

Anne's free hand went down to stroke her face gently.

"Oh, Sasha. I'm so sorry."

"She… She told me I was a stupid kid… Who ruined her life… And… That I was an unlovable brat… That no one ever would love… That I didn't… I didn't deserve love..."

Anne didn't know how to react… Other than shock at the story, Sasha was telling, to keep holding her hand and try and comfort her with the other.

Inside she felt various feelings dance inside of her. Horror at the story Sasha was telling, anger at Mrs. Waybright and her appalling treatment of her own 7-year-old child, and nauseating disgust at her dad for not stopping it. And more than anything, pity for Sasha, for the woman currently lying in her lap.

"I… I believed her Anne… I was a stupid, stupid kid… I... actually believed her… God, I was a dumb kid…"

"You weren't dumb." She said, FIRMLY.

"I-" "You Weren't. Dumb." She said again, this time with real force in her voice.

"Alright… I wasn't dumb." She said in a tone that even through her drunkenness was very clearly just her placating her.

"Anyway… I… I was… I was in a bad place Anne… the divorce took the entire summer… Remember?"

She nodded. She did remember. Anne and Marcy had both commented on it a lot. What to do when Sasha came back. What games to play, what movies to watch. Kids stuff.

"It… It was awful. When we came back home… It didn't feel like my home... I didn't feel safe anymore."

She waved again, to the side, though what she was trying to convey, Anne didn't know.

"I felt like… Mom was right. That I was unlovable… That nobody would ever love me again… I was scared. Scared of my dad… That he would start yelling at me like mom did…"

Anne had had a pretty neutral opinion of Mr. and Mrs. Waybright before tonight. Boy was that gone now.

"He never did but… I was scared of going out too… Scared of going out there… And then…"

She smiled. She actually smiled up at her despite the tears.

"There you were. On my door, asking if I wanted to play."

The grip Sasha had on her hand tightened.

"You… And Marcy… You loved me… Dad didn't… Mom didn't… But you two? You still loved me, despite everything mom said. And you… Every day you'd be out in front of my house… Ready to walk me to school."

Anne wrecked her mind trying to remember that. But she didn't. Her and Sasha walking to school was just such a regular occurrence before Middle school that it wasn't anything she recalled in particular.

That had only changed with a new school and drastically bigger travel distances.

Sasha's free hand went up trying to caress her face like Anne was hers, only be a bit more… Clumsy about it than the Sober Anne was.

"Mom was wrong. You… Proved that to me, Anne. Every day. In the morning… At school… After it...You were amazing… Wonderful…"

She closed her eyes again, and once more rubbed her head up against Anne.

"Wonderful…" She repeated as she kept her head where it was.

Anne just stared at her, still stroking her face.

It took her a minute or two just listening to Sasha's breathing, and the now still arm leaning ul against her, before she realized her girlfriend had passed out.

Anne carefully put the arm back down… Then leaned back and took in a deep breath.

Well. That was… She had, somewhat stupidly it seemed, assumed she knew mostly everything about Sasha and Marcy by now. At least the major stuff before they had gone their different ways in high school.

It was a sharp lesson, that even in adulthood, she didn't know everything.

Far from it.

Anne let the story just churn over in her head.

There was… Some stuff that didn't quite line up. For one thing, Sasha had claimed she fell in love with her at nine years old, but the divorce of her parents had happened when she was 7, she remembered that much. So unless drunk Sasha had remembered wrongly, there was quite some time between that autumn and Sasha… Falling heads over heels for her.

God… The way Sasha had described her… She didn't remember exactly how she'd acted back then, but the way she remembered it, she had just been trying to cheer Sasha up.

Her mom had told her Sasha was going through a bad time, and that she should try and be supportive. And so she had. In the way that a 7-year-old, who barely understood fully what was going on(And as this conversation had proven, did not understand at all) would be supportive.

Sasha had been sad, and so Anne had tried her best to cheer her up. With playing, Video games, movies, and the like.

Looking back at it with full context, it was pure cringe.

But Sasha hadn't thought so. At all. She'd thought Anne was amazing. The ONLY thing she had cared about, was that Anne and Marcy had loved her.

Speaking of which…

Over on the other side of the table, Marcy sat on another sofa, fast asleep, content in only the way a drunk person fast asleep could be.

Sasha had not excluded Marcy from her story of how the girls had made her feel loved when she needed it… But it was her, and not Marcy, who had managed to make Sasha fall "Heads over heels". Why was that?

She didn't know.

Man… It was… Humbling, to learn just how much Anne had affected Sasha back then. It was also… Depressing.

If Sasha had been in love with her all this time… Then she'd been in love with her during the entire worst part of their relationship.

When Sasha had been so desperate to feel in charge, to feel safe, that she turned into a manipulating bully. It was a scary thought that Sasha had once been capable of acting like that… Even against the people she truly loved.

She… also understood more about where Sasha had been coming from now. Her desperate need to be in control. To feel safe.

It didn't excuse her previous behavior of course, but… Well, it didn't really matter anyway.

Sasha had changed, and she had changed without Anne ever learning this story.

THAT was what was important. Not how Anne judged Sasha's past actions now.

The woman beneath her loved her, and made her feel… Like she was everything... That she was worth the world.

That was what mattered.

That, her giving Sasha her own love and support.

---

As Sasha woke the next day, she felt the familiar feeling of a hangover pounding her skull like a drum.

She groaned as she pushed herself off… Her balcony couch? Yes, her balcony couch.

Every movement was met with PAIN, as she got up into a sitting position.

Yes, it was coming back to her now. She and Marcy had had a drinking contest(Marcy was lying on the other couch, still sleeping.) At the lovable nerd's insistence.

And she had… Well, drunk like she was back at college.

It had been a dumb, dumb move, and completely unnecessary. She'd chugged beer after beer while Marcy was still on her third and already smashed, just to impress her and look cool. Stupid move. 

She… Didn't think she had been completely shit-faced, but she had been thoroughly drunk enough.

She headed to the kitchen, prepared to chug down glass after glass of water.

What she found was Anne having already made her and Marcy breakfast(God bless that woman), before heading out to work.

It was a bit cold by then, but she appreciated it anyway, to go alongside her drinks of water.

It wasn't before she was done, had drunk 24 glasses of water, and been to the bathroom twice, and was… Kinda feeling a bit better, that she noticed that Anne had also left a note on the fridge.

She squinted and tried her best to read…

"Left you food. We'll talk more when you're ready, okay? I'll always be here for you. I love you Sasha. Anne."

Sasha spent more time than she should have, trying to piece together what the hell it meant. Then, she began to remember that she and Anne had talked about… Stuff. High school. Her parents. 

Shit.

#amphibia #post #the hardest thing #fanfiction #sashanne #anne boonchuy #sasha waybright #marcy wu #parental abuse #drinking #an easy step

[lene-loki]

Overdose

Warnings: Drug abuse, drug overdose, mentions of death, swearing, angst, spoiler for Kin Season 1

Pairing: Michael Kinsella x Female!Reader

Words: 2,390

Summary: After robbing Eamonn Cunningham's stash, the Kinsella's celebrate their success with drugs and alcohol - until (Y/N) overdoses on cocaine and the happy vibe immediately disappears.

"Let's make a toast!" Eric yelled enthusiastically after hours of heavy drinking. "We already passed that point." Said Jimmy slightly laughing.

"Yeah, but with the alcohol. Now we've gotta toast with the drugs!"

"Idiot." Nikki said smiling about her boyfriend who had obviously been very drunk.

"Fuck you two." Eric said before he turned to you. "You'll toast with me, (Y/N), right?" He babbled while you let out a nervous chuckle.

You absolutely hated being put on the spot and could already feel your cheeks redden from embarassment.

When your close friend Nikita invited you to a party earlier you didn't quite expect whatever was happening here.

You knew that Nikki's boyfriend had a criminal record but not that his entire family was criminial and celebrating a robbery. You shook nervously. The fear of getting murdered by one of the family members didn't leave your mind for the entire night. It didn't make it any better that you were the only one who didn't drank a single drop of alcohol - well, except for Michael who also seemed to avoid it.

Speaking of the devil, Michael just returned from the kitchen, sitting down on the sofa beside you.

You definitely felt the most comfortable with him out of the entire Kinsella family. He seemed nice altough he's been really quiet the entire time.

Eric ended up toasting to himself with some nonsense before preparing a tablet with lines of cocaine on the surface of the silver. Your eyes widened, desperately searching for eye contact with Nikki.

What did she drag you to?

"A-Are." You swallowed hard. "Are those drugs?" You could hear your voice break. "I thought you were joking." You admitted, now more scared than ever while everyone around you started laughing hysterically about your naivity.

"That's cute how clueless you are." Eric commented and you felt really insulted, humiliated even.

You weren't some dumb, little girl without a clue about the world. It simply made you uncomfortable to be around such illegal actions.

Why was Nikki so invested in all of this stuff?

"(Y/N) you're our guest of honor, you can go first." Eric said while holding out the tablet in front of you.

Michael seemed to sense your discomfort as he immediately moved the tablet away from your face - earning an annoyed look from Eric.

"I don't think that she wants to do that." He simply said but left an intimidating vibe around him, making Eric swallow.

It stayed awfully quiet after Michael's words and the uncomfortable silence became too much for you to bear.

You excused yourself from the table and went outside on the patio to catch some fresh air, still shaking in fear.

After a few minutes you returned. You still felt a bit shaky but calmed down enough to face the family again.

Michael wasn't sitting on the sofa anymore - leaving you alone to deal with Eric. He indeed wasted no time in persuading you again to try the cocaine served on the silver platter.

All eyes on you, you began hysterically shaking again. You knew you should have stood up for yourself but you were too shy to decline his offer even though you really wanted to say no.

Under all the pressure you finally gave in. Eric along with Nikki and the rest of the family cheered as you nervously accepted the platter, unsure of what to do.

Nikki demonstrated it once to you after taking the empty seat beside you. Still being clueless about it and scared as hell you did the same as Nikki. Pressing one shaking finger to your right nasal cavity to block it. You used the left side to inhale the entire line of cocaine through a curled up bank note. You almost coughed from the uncomfortable feeling in your nose.

They clapped and cheered around you. You smiled insecurely. Although you satisfied their wish you didn't feel fullfilled, because you gave into the peer pressure.

Immediately after putting the tablet away you excused yourself again. In the hallway in front of the bathroom, you encountered Michael.

He looked tired but nevertheless showed you a kind smile. He also noticed you being even more nervous than before.

"Is everything alright? You know, you don't have to stay here if you don't want to." He said sympathetically.

"I-I know." You started fidgeting with your hands.

Michael gave you an encouraging pat on your shoulder and if your heart didn't race before, your pulse was now faster than the speed of light.

Maybe it was the drugs.

But you felt extremely attracted to Michael.

Either you hallucinated his touch on your arm and the longing stare he gave you or the cocaine opened your eyes to what has been there the entire night. Could that be?

Could Michael really be interested in you?

You shook that thought right off. That was ridicoulous.

He lingered in his position with his hand on your arm, not moving an inch as if he waited for something.

"Uhm..." You cleared your throat but before you could say anything else, your mind got so dizzy to the point where you couldn't think of anything anymore.

"Bathroom." Was the only word you got out of your mouth just like that.

He nooded understandingly, smiling again.

You didn't even know him and he wasn't really much of a talker but still you felt a connection to him as if you two have been knowing each other for decades.

After returning from the bathroom you felt the complete intensity of the cocaine kicking in. Your adrenaline jumped through the roof and you seemed to be unable to keep your legs from moving around. You just couldn't sit still.

To Nikki's joy you came out of your shell.

And the best part was that everyone around you was intoxicated to the point of being totally carefree. You danced wildly with Nikki and Eric to some eighties tunes while sipping on a drink that Jimmy had made you.

You were painfully excited about everything. Even about Jimmy's snake as you followed him and Michael downstairs.

Michael wasn't stupid.

He knew that something was off with you. Just an hour earlier you were a shaking, nervous mess and now you were the definition of the life of the party - totally letting loose.

When you felt the effect slowly starting to disappear, you looked for the silver platter for more of that magical white snow. Somehow you made sure that Michael didn't see it. You didn't know why but you didn't wanted him to be disappointed in you that you gave in to the pressure from Eric.

But you couldn't stop doing it now as well.

It was like a higher force was dragging you to the tablet and you started to become addicted to the person you are when you're under the influence of the drug. You didn't wanted the fun to stop so you took another line without anyone witnessing. It made you braver. And you wanted the effect for a little while longer, so you took another line - not thinking about the risks even once.

After you had inhaled every last crumb of that fine as dust white powder, you suddenly got the feeling of choking and you seemed to be unable to keep breathing through your nose. You made a choking sound - gaining everyone's attention. Just as Michael walked in, you could feel a wetness dripping from your nose. Even without looking at it you knew that it was blood. You could smell the coppery scent dripping out of your nose.

"(Y/N)!" Michael yelled startled at the look of your pale form, with cocaine sticking to your upper lip since you didn't use a Dollar note this time and just inhaled it straight up from the surface and of course your nosebleed. He reached you just in time as your surroundings started to fade into darkness. Michael caught your unconscious body and could watch inch for inch how the blood left your body and you became as white as a sheet in his arms.

The music immediately stopped, everyone was shocked about what was happening. "CALL AN AMBULANCE!" Michael screamed angrily at his family members as they just continued to stare. Jimmy was the first who shook out of his rigidity and grabbed his phone, dialing the emergency number as fast as his shaking fingers allowed. Michael carefully put you on the sofa, ignoring his own overwhelming feel of shock so he could take care of you. After he watched your lifeless body for a little moment longer, hoping your chest would rise in breaths even if they were almost nonexistent. He needed something. A tiny sign that your heart was still beating. But then he lost it.

Furiously he grabbed Eric by the collar who was still frozen in shock. "I told you that she didn't want to do drugs." He growled. "And you little son of a bitch just pushed her into it." Eric was intimidated by his cousin and swallowed nervously. "Michael, please." Frank sighed. "So what, that kid can't properly tolerate cocaine like the rest of us. That's not Eric's fault." Frank said nonchalantly, which only put fuel to Michael's fire. He let go of his cousin and now approached his uncle.

"If she dies, her blood is on Eric's hands." He said, deeply annoyed by Frank's careless attitude about the girl.

Michael did care about that girl.

And he knew from the moment she stepped into the house that she didn't belong in that circle of people. She was way too shy and sweet. She deserved better company than the Kinsella family. And she definitely didn't deserve to die because of a bad decision she made. Shortly after Jimmy announced that the paramedics would be here soon, they hurried to hide the drugs and any indication of something illegal happening. Nikki came back from the bathroom - oblivious to what happened to her friend. But then she looked between Frank and Michael how tense their both were and how raging Michael was. Then her gaze fell onto your lifeless form on the sofa. She gasped in shock, hurrying over to your side. "What happened?" She sobbed over her friend. Regret washed over her. She knew that this party wasn't for you and still she dragged you along. Michael didn't help her with feeling guilty. "What do you think happened?! You should have supported (Y/N)'s decision instead of pushing her with Eric to do cocaine."

Finally the ambulance arrived and Michael watched you getting transported into the vehicle. His heart cramped in pain. The rest of his family didn't care what would happen to you, but Michael did and Michael didn't wanted you to be alone in hospital, so he left alongside Nikki to be there for you.

Your condition had been dangerously critical but nonetheless the Doctor's were optimistic about you. Of course they knew what caused your health issue but they weren't there to judge rather than to save your life.

After three long hours of waiting, unsure about your medical state, the Doctor finally proclaimed that you would make it and that you were in a stable condition given the fact that your heart at one point had stopped beating for almost an entire minute. As well Michael as Nikki were extremely relieved with the news.

Michael stayed in the hospital until you woke up to show you that he'd been there and you weren't with your health problems all alone. He knew himself how it felt to be all alone in this world and to be rejected. He didn't wanted you feel the same about the Kinsella's - well, at least not about him. Although you felt like you just jumped from the deaths shovel, you couldn't surpress the happiness you felt when you saw Michael's glossy eyes - from concern and tiredness. You felt touched that he was there although a part of you was ashamed of yourself. Since you took the drug although he knew you didn't wanted to.

"I'm sorry." You mumbled, your voice hoarse. "Don't be." He said softly, while taking a seat beside your hospital bed. His smile was enough to light a firework inside of your heart and you were reminded that you truly were alive. "Nikki went to get something to eat from the cafeteria." He said to let you know that your friend was there as well. You nodded.

You needed to say something. You couldn't keep on biting on your tongue. "I'm sorry. Really." He wanted to tell you again that it was alright but you stopped him. "No, I did the opposite of what I wanted. Of what I said I wanted. But you defended me and I still did it behind your back." Feeling emotional from your trauma of almost dying, you sniffed. "I don't want you to think that I didn't care about what you said. Because I do." You whispered. Haven't you been on medication you would have found this situation ridiculous. Michael was a total stranger, yet you felt the need to share your soul with him.

"Everyone makes mistakes. I won't judge you because of this one. I'm just glad you're awake." He said, reaching out to grab your hand. Reassuringly, he rubbed small circles with his thumb on the skin of your hand. You smiled at the touch.

But still you had a question lingering on the tip of your tongue. "How come, you are here?" Your cheeks reddened, insecurely lowering your gaze onto your hand which was still engulfed in Michael's big one. "Because I worried about you." He admitted sincerely, making your heart jump. "Really?" You asked shyly, not being used to being cared about. He showed you his heartwarming smile again and that was enough answer for you. You smiled back at him, hoping your smile would show him all the words you were too shy to say aloud. He gave your hand a loving squeeze.

It was after Michael left the room that Nikki grinned at you knowingly. "Do you want Michael's number?"

You blushed, but then nodded laughing in which she chimed in. "I'll get it for you, hun." She promised, letting you linger in the beautiful feeling of falling in love.

#michael kinsella #kin #kin amc #marvel #mcu #marvel mcu #imagine #charlie cox #daredevil #matt murdock #angst #fluff

[casspurrjoybell-20]

Blueberry Muffins - Chapter 8a

*Warning Adult Content*

Trouble Comes a Knocking - Part 1

"You left without telling him?" Mark Dalton asked his Beta in disbelief, giving an exasperated look.

"Oh come on, how could I tell him? He's heartbroken right now. I didn't want to drop the bomb and make him even more upset," Joshua Calder defended himself with a sigh, letting his head drop down into his hands.

Mark sighs, taking a sip of his drink. They'd decided to head out for one more night before they had to leave. Tomorrow morning, they would be packing up and making their way back to their pack. Peering into his drink, Joshua lets out a sigh of his own. Mark was right, of course. Joshua should've told Wren Rivera that he was his fated-mate. That would've meant the Beta could stay longer and figure something out with him. Instead, he was going home knowing his mate is here in, completely oblivious. It stung quite a bit. In fact, Joshua began to rub at his chest a bit at the thought of leaving Wren like this. But what else could he do? He didn't want to bring Wren’s world crashing down on top of him.

"Joshua, you know I love you, man but you have to tell him before we leave. If I have to make it an official order I will," Mark threatened.

Joshua shakes his head, not wanting Mark to force him with his Alpha command. Deep down, the Beta knew the Alpha had his best interests at heart as his best friend but he just didn't understand. Wren deserved more than a half-baked explanation as to why he never told him they were mates and waited until then to say something. He deserved to be swept off his feet. Joshua’s frustration continued to boil in his chest as he threw his drink back, letting the alcohol burn a slow path down to his stomach. Maybe it could distract him from the ever-growing pain in his chest. 

"You don't have to force me, Mark. I'll tell him before we leave, I swear," Joshua answered his friend, his eyes focused up at the ceiling.

When Joshua looks back at him, Mark gives him a smile and a pat on the back. 

"Let's relax for now. No need to get worked up just yet."

They drank for a few more hours as the pain in Joshua’s chest slowly became numb. After paying, they both supported each other as they stumbled to the pack house. The night air clung to their skin as they trudged along but all Joshua felt was the dull buzz that spread throughout his entire body.

I wanna' go and see him so badly," Joshua whined, his voice slurred slightly.

Somewhere in the back of his head, a voice chastised him for drinking so much. He could get into serious trouble for presenting himself like this but he couldn't help it. It took specially-brewed alcohol for werewolves to get properly drunk because of their naturally higher metabolisms and he definitely had enough to do the trick. His thoughts faded in and out, jumbled about as he tried to keep up with Mark. The Alpha laughed and shoved his friend lightly. 

"You could've been with him right now but you chickened out," he said with a lazy grin.

"Shut up. I know," Joshua replied, letting his head drop.

‘He doesn't have to rub it in my face. I knew I messed up so I didn't need Mark to remind every moment he could.’ 

Just the thought of what could've happened cut through Joshua’s buzz and the aching in his chest flared up again. If he had told Wren, what would he have done? Would he have accepted it? Accepted him? Would he have rejected him right then and there? It already felt like Wren had rejected him. 

‘My mate had ejected the idea of a fated-mate, so that means Wren was indirectly rejecting me right?’

The realization stopped Joshua in his tracks. Wren told him that he'd given up, told him he didn't think he'd ever get a fated-mate. Did he really care? The tightening in Joshua’s chest told him no, Wren didn't care. The Beta’s hand flew up to press against his chest, right where he'd been feeling that constant pain for so long. How had he not noticed it had been growing worse, how hard it had suddenly become to breathe properly?

"Josh?" Mark asked, his voice laced with concern. 

"I think..." the moment Joshua tried to explain himself, his throat tightened up, the backs of his eyes burnt as he realized it was true.

He was being rejected, slowly but surely and it was the Beta’s fault. Joshua’ knees suddenly went weak, his body collapsing to the ground as the pain spread out across his body, his ears beginning to ring. Panic seized his body along with the pain as he realized he was going into shock, the rejection was finally catching up to him. He'd continued to hope for so long but it finally dawned on him that this was it, Wren would never accept him even if he did tell. He'd reject him and go back to his perfect  Alpha boyfriend. How could he ever compete with Erin Hamilton?

"Josh, Oh, holy shit."

The voice of his best friend echoed around in his head but it didn't help the pain that pulsed throughout his entire body. A groan slipped from his lips as he began to lose feeling in his entire body, his brain slowly giving up the fight. The ringing continued, growing louder as Mark's sudden cries for help grew fainter. The last thing the Beta felt before slipping away was warm arms lifting him up from the ground.

[littlest0nergirl]

Halloween party was quite fun, I left much later than I intended. but now im gonna smoke even more weed and go the fuck to sleep.

#me #weed #girls who smoke #marijuana #smoking weed #video #bong #cannabis #stoner girl #i smoked 5 joints and 2 blunts tonight #and drank quite a bit more than I thought I could without feeling drunk

[sohin-ace]

Abbachio - Hangover

You walked inside the headquarters that you titled your home.

It was half past 3 A.M and you knew fair well everybody in the team was staying here for the night, and were most likely sleeping soundly like babies at this hour.

And so, with velvety steps and calculated slow movements, you entered the porch and quietly closed the door, moving in the dark as silently as possible.

You had just finished a tiring mission and the one thing you desired most at the moment was to crash into bed, maybe marry it since you were at it, barely thinking about the sticky blood, sweat and dried river water that stained you during your mission.

You huffed and kicked your shoes off, liberating your aching and swollen feet from them, directing yourself towards the kitchen to fetch some well-deserved water that your throat was oh-so desperately screaming for.

You were shocked to find the room lit at this hour. Your first thought was that Bruno was probably still awake and having a small break from his neverending pile of work.

Your expression completely fell, however, upon seeing that Bruno was not the one occupying the kitchen but someone else, greeting you with a heart breaking sight.

"... Leone?"

The male was slumped over the table, his head buried in his arms with one hand holding onto a spilling wine bottle, burgundy liquid running everywhere onto the wooden surface, the floor, and onto the male's clothes. Even some strands of his splayed out hair drank up the alcohol, dying them from silver to violet.

You gasped at the mess but was even more shocked by the implications behind said mess. He didn't even bother taking a glass, prefering downing the wine directly from the bottle. He wasn't planning on holding back tonight and it alarmed you.

You knew of Abbachio's tendency of alchoholism, but he was never so drunk as to black out this way and you weren't sure he would even be able to work tomorrow, or do anything else, for that matter.

"Leone..." You slowly approached his hunched over form and gently shook him. "Caro, wake up."

No response.

With you being all alone in the middle of the night, there weren't much you could do. But there were no way you'd ever leave him in this state.

Shaken with worry, you only did what your heart told you and moved the bottle away from his grip. It was almost empty at this point anyway.

You brushed his long hair to the side to let some fresh air cool his face down while you cleaned and mopped the tiled floor and table. Oh you'd make sure to lecture him about that later.

You thought about him, sitting next to you as you cleaned up. How tormented he was and how, just like the wine bottle, he spilled himself out in secrecy.

You bit back your tears. He was so alone. Tortured. It hurt you that your Leone, whom you loved so much, had to go through a trauma you could never heal for him. Or even soothed in the slightest. You were grateful that he even remotely accepted your affection, but still.

It wasn't enough, for you.

"I wish I could help you, Leone..." You murmured and caressed his soft hair, revealing more of his peaceful face, his smeared makeup not tainting any of his beauty.

Your heart clenched, he looked so calm, so sweet. How did he manage to make grief look so gentle, you would never know. You almost didn't want to move him and disturb him, but you had to.

Carefully holding his shoulders, you pulled him up, his weight much heavier than you'd have expected, even thought it should be no surprise. Abbachio was a burly man.

You craddled his head and placed him in a proper up-sitting position and he groaned.

"Uugh... Hhmmm..."

"Leone, wake up, love." You still held his face against your chest and patted his cheek to wake him, scared that he'd sway and tumble over if you let go of him. "You gotta go to bed. Come on."

"Hmmm.... Sssuuuree...." He mumbled, words slurred.

He was surprisingly compliant, you thought. When you were certain he could hold his own head up, you let go and grabbed his wrist, still drenched in wine.

You hooked his arm around your shoulders and wrapped your own around his torso. He made the effort to stay in balance while you hoisted him up to his feet, not without struggle and effort on your part.

You stumbled a bit, but managed to get him up, at least, holding onto him for dear life as you maneuvered his much heavier body around the kitchen.

He counted on you for support and was close to falling sleeping on you as he snored against your hair, the stench of alcohol reaching your nostrils. Man, why did he have to be the heaviest male of the group?

You brushed your exhaustion from the preceeding mission to the side and dedicated yourself to helping Leone. Rest could wait.

Thanks to the help of your Stand, you ended the course safely back to his room and opened the door, having more hands to do so.

You let him down to sit onto his bed as gently as you could and you felt he was about collapse again.

You instantly wrapped your arms around his shoulders and let him slump over your chest.

"Woa- Don't lay down just yet! I need to get your clothes off."

He only purred some low nonsense, as if to show his annoyance to you. Well, maybe he desperately wanted to sleep, but so did you.

"Don't 'brrr' at me, boy. You're the one who spilled wine all over your pants and top!" You scolded to deaf, or rather drunk ears. Not like he was listening to you, but still.

Huffing a bit, you took hold of the lace on his top and untied it, letting you slide the rest off his broad shoulders and back. It was much easier to slip the sleeves off afterwards, and you were almost proud of yourself.

"I'm gonna be such a good mom." You joked to yourself as you caringly held onto Leone's warm back and head to gently place him down on his bed before taking his shoes and pants off.

Once this was done and not without a pause to catch your breath, you went to the bathroom to grab a towel, dampening it in warm water before you came back to him and sat by his side. He had already fallen fast asleep, and was looking awfully adorable, if you were honest.

" 'Clumsy brat'," You chuckled with a whisper as you wiped the wine off his skin and the sweat and tears off his neck and chest. "That's what you always called me. Ironic."

You looked fondly over at him as you finished your self-assigned task, closing off by wiping his left hand. You thought over your options.

Maybe it was the fatigue blurring your moral code. Or maybe you were just blinded by this crazy thing called love. Perhaps he was just an enticing wizard who cast a spell on you with his lips. Whatever it was, you foolishly decided you would kiss him after you removed his make up, and so you did.

You gently removed what remained of his make up that wasn't washed out by the crying and the drinking. You sighed at your good job and leaned over, running your fingers delicately over his skin.

"This is probably wrong." You hesitated, questioning your choices, yet feeling brave. "But I think I can at least have that, right...? Pardon me for this, Leone."

You closed the distance between you both to press your lips ever-so-sweetly on his own, wanting to linger, but not quite feeling deserving enough either. It was short-lived but precious and tingly. You felt your heart flutter and you swore you also felt his hand twitch slightly next to you.

You sighed. You yearned for more. You wished you could just collapse and fall asleep by him. Your responsibilities thankfully got the best of you.

"I love you. Please love yourself too, we all want to see you better. I know I do. Depend on me sometimes too, okay?" You breathed out to him, secretely hoping he heard you in his dreams and maybe accepted your selfish and heartfelt request.

You were tired. You needed to sleep and you were afraid you'd act more and more foolishly if you stayed with him any longer.

You reluctantly leaned away from him and got up, making sure to tuck him in thoroughly inside the blankets before you left.

You'd leave a note to Bruno to not wake him up in the morning.

When Abbachio woke up in the morning, much later than he usually did, he was disappointed, yet not surprised to be struck with a splitting headache.

"Fuck..." He groaned, holding his heavy head in his hands, "Not again..."

He inhaled deeply only to realise he was strangely met by a sweet familiar scent mixed with the stinging wine he drowned himself in.

Out of doubt, he looked over the bedside table and found a water bottle and some aspirin as well as a small note.

He grabbed the note and squinted at it, trying to read it with his still hazy eyes.

'Water helps with hangover headaches. Tablets too, obviously :P . Take it easy, Bruno gave you the day off.'

Was that you? That was most definitely you, he thought. And that fruity scent on his face and hands must be you too. There were no doubt now.

It didn't take him long to put two and two together. He would have been much quicker-witted if he wasn't so hungover. He remembered you had a mission last night, you probably went home by then and helped him to bed out of sheer empathy, sweet as you were.

Abbachio sighed and rubbed his face. He was both ashamed and extremely grateful towards you. It must have been so draining to come take care of him after you risked your life out there.

God he felt like shit. Again, he was being a burden on the people he loved, all because of his selfish choices. But knowing you, you'd probably hate him thinking that of himself, and tell him you were fine with it and happy to help. You had such a kind heart.

"... How did she even get me upstairs...? This tiny dwarf."

He groaned and sat up, smoothing his fingers over his lips. He blushed at his own thoughts. He swore he dreamt of you kissing him as he was asleep, and the feeling was still pretty vivid.

But he couldn't be sure. Drunken dreams were weird sometimes.

Thinking of making it up to you, he took the medicine and downed it with water, his mind filled with thoughts of you only.

He deserved at least that.

#jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo #jjba #jojo no kimyou na bouken #writing #x reader #reader insert #leone abbacchio #abbachio #leone abbachio x reader #abbachio x reader #part 5 #jojo part 5 #golden wind #vento aureo

[mywritingonlyfans]

Fluffly fic with Thomas (A bit smut at the end)

this short fic is about: you having a crush on Thomas and he matches. 

warnings: it’s a bit smut. fingering + female oral. fem!reader x thomas raggi

 Thomas kept his jaw set as he talked to his friends, in a way that you find quiet charming. He was the serious type, but in the best of ways. Anyone who didn't know him would think he was bored or indifferent to the conversation going on around him, something that in a short time you became aware that it was just him being himself.

 You love how his body seemed tense and at the same time so out of place.  His hair was cascading down his shoulders as his hands shook the beer bottle mysteriously. God certainly had his favourites, Thomas was a living proof of that.

“He fancies you too, you should have noticed that by now,” Victoria whispered, getting your attention back to her.

You were in the kitchen of his house with her.

Your back was against the wall, allowing you a perfect view of Thomas on the other room. He had decided to throw a party and as you were new to the group it was obvious that you’d be there with them.

“I don’t know,” you frowned, “I don’t think he does.”

 Thomas could have anyone he wanted, anyone in the room, no matter what room he was in.

 He indeed used to be touchy when it comes to you. You remember moments when he'd walk close to you, bumping his shoulder with yours, just for the hell of it or when he’d place his arm around your waist to introduce you to some of his friends, making you part of his chitchat. Over time, you realized this was his way of being friendly. Thomas was like that with everyone, you were no exception.

“Well, that’s not what Dami told me. He said he asked several times if you‘d come tonight and all of that,”

“Yeah?” Your voice was low, secretly afraid she might be poking fun at you. It wasn’t her type to do that, but when it comes to Thomas your head doesn’t work coherently.

 Your attention wandered from her, back to Thomas across the room. Just for you to notice that his eyes were already on you this time, he smirked, and then waved at you. 

Needless to say you became a self-consciousness clutter under his eyes.

You were about to answer him, even if it was with a small nod, but Victoria was quicker and while one of her shoulders nudged you; she signaled asking him to join you.

“That’s so cute, you’re literally weak at the knees,” Victoria took a sip of her beer, holding a sly smile on her face. “You two will be a lovely couple.” She concluded as nervousness took over your soul. 

You pressed your hands on your skirt, in a failed attempt to get rid of the sweating.

 Victoria was right, you were a bit shaken and you knew that your abrupt change in breathing next to your already hot cheeks could give you away. You had no idea why you were like that, things would be the same as before; he doesn't know how you feel about him.

You sighed heavily, giving Victoria a menacing look as you sat on the metal space of the sink. In your head, leaving Thomas's field of vision as he came to you would give you enough time to proceed what had just been said.

"Ayup girl!" He said happily, holding a toothy smile for you. "How're my favorite girls doin' tonight?" His arm went over to your shoulder and you hugged his waist sideways, in an almost involuntary act. You heard Victoria laugh, and then it hits you how strange it was that it became something normal in such a short time. Maybe it was meant to be, you wondered. 

"Ok, excuse me kids," Victoria blinked at you. "I'll be retiring, but don't have so much fun without me."

"Is that even possible?" Thomas asked, playing along with Vic's drunk words.

She was no longer in the kitchen and his hands were still on you, besides now he had turned so he was facing you. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, getting so close that you couldn't even focus on your breathing anymore.

 He offered you his beer, which was half full and you drank it. Your mind wondered if he did this with other girls as well or if it was something exclusive that he only did with you, you wanted to be the only one.

"You seem a bit tense," His fingers enlaced a lock of your hair, putting it behind your ear. 

 His cheeks were slightly red from the heat, and so were his lips - probably from the pressure of the beer bottle against them -, his button-down shirt was more unbuttoned than usual, making it look like his necklaces was begging for your attention. It was clear that God was in a good mood and Thomas was his chosen one tonight. "Rumours has it -- that I make you nervous,"

There was no need to say it out loud. Dami had told Victoria, and it was logical that Victoria had also told Dami, then Dami told Thomas about you; in the same way Victoria told you about him. Thomas knew it was reciprocal.

“Rumours?” You mumbled. His face getting closer and closer to yours as his hands held the sides of your head; messing your hair a little. His face lit up in a naughty smile. “Is that what Dami said Victoria told him?”

“No matter who said it -- what matters is that I do it to you, right? Don’t I make you nervous?” He insisted as if he didn't know the answer. 

 At that moment the two of you were already a tangle. Your hand resting on his chest while your knees parted, giving more room to his weight.

You nodded. His eyes scanned your face for a moment and that was enough for your bodies to stick together, you could finally feel his lips on yours. He took his time caressing your nose with the tip of his one, running his fingers over your check. You were sure he could feel your body shiver under his touch as you melted in his tongue.

“Hey, Thomas,” you heard someone calling him. 

 The person was certainly drunk, which made you wonder whether Thomas was, too. He didn't taste like alcohol, but that could be the cigarette taste that has become prevalent for you.

 Could you be his drunk mistake? Would you be a one time thing? 

He broke the kiss, biting and pulling at your lower lip. You held a groan while he turned to the caller.

 You thought he would forget you there, but his hands went down to your hips and stayed there until his little conversation was over - his attention was still on you, fully on you. He squeezed your sides while you rested your head on his shoulder, watching him speak; specifically watching him because if someone asked you what they were talking about you wouldn’t know the answer to that.

“Do ya wanna go somewhere quieter?” He asked as soon as you were 'alone'. His lips now all over your neck and shoulder.

You wanted to, but the voices in your head screamed to be answered. Whould you really just be a one time thing for Thomas?

“We don't have to go, I don't mind spending my time here with you, bunny.”

You tilted your head to the side, holding his jaw in your hands to look at his face. “Actually, that whouldn’t be a bad thing.”

After your words, it was a matter of seconds before Thomas guided you through the house to his room. His silly smile remained on as he did his best to ignore everyone in his path.

You had never been in his room before but it was just as you imagined, there were some vinyls scattered on the floor along with some of his garments pieces, his guitar was on the bed, almost falling to the groud. His room was just as messy as him.

“If I knew I’d welcome you here, I’d have fix it a bit,” he murmured, placing the guitar in the corner of the room. He tries to arrange the blankets in the best way he could, and then sat on the end of the bed, gestuting for you to join him as well.

“I don't care much about the bed,” You whispered, realizing that it was really happening. You were with Thomas, in his room. You had just exchanged saliva with him a few minutes ago.

“So,” he sighed. “Are you sure about that?”

“About what?” You smirked. It was obvious that you knew what he was talking about.

“About what?” He repeated, throwing his body weight on the bed quite dramatically. “I don’t know, cute girl at a party, calling me to a quieter place,”

“Wait,” you leaned over him, awkwardly getting on top of him. “I didn’t ask you that,”

“Like you need to ask me to know that the answer would be yes.” His hand stopped over the hem of your skirt, making it possible to feel his fingertips on your thigh.

You came closer to him, feeling your breath blend with his warm one. You would be lying if you said you had never fantasized about that moment before. Taking a deep breath, you tickled his cheek with your nose as he pulled all your body into his. 

 It wouldn't hurt to let that happen and only worry about the other things on your head the next day, right?

 “Yeah, I’m sure about that,” You pressed your lips together. 

 His hands squeezed your waist, turning your body over so your back was now on the mattress.

“Arms up,” he said in between a sigh. 

You raised your arms, letting him remove your shirt. He had a comforting look on his features that soothed you.

He stood on the bed before stepping out of it. You laughed through your tension.

“What you’re doing?” You asked, leaning on your elbows. 

 He knelt on the floor at the end of the bed. You felt your body tense even more, your head full of thoughts per minutes. You did not remember the last time you had shaved, let alone if there were any marks on there too.

“I’m gonna take care of ya, bunny, “ He breathed and you could have sworn to feel him in you already. “Just relax,” his mouth trailed wet kisses down your things. He pulled your skirt up to your waist; in movements that seemed so perfect that could only have been calculated. Maybe he was a bit nervous, not as nervous as you, but a cool type of nervous. 

You nodded, looking at the ceiling, feeling as he pulled your knees towards him. You opened your thighs slowly and soon felt his lips on your clit through the cotton. He reached for your hand, intertwining your fingers in his. And God, he felt like heavens. 

“Don’t just nod at me. I want to hear you, lil’ bunny,” He rubbed the already wet fabric with his index finger.

You weren't sure what he was referring to, but seeing his face resting on the inside of your thigh, with his messy hair and eyes stuck on you; you know you would be able to do anything he wanted you to do.

“Yeah,” you agreed.

He put the cotton piece aside, diving himself in your nectar and slipping his fingers inside you. You closed your eyes, letting your head fall back at the feeling. He hummed in a smiled that sent you vibrations every once in a while, he clearly knew what he was doing. Soon, he shoved his tongue down your core, licking and sucking, gathering all your juice in his mouth. 

“So sweet,” he moaned at your taste, starting to lap his tongue at your clit. Joints deep down your pussy, going faster on you, making your legs quiver around his head as you turned into a whining mess.

“Thommie,” you grunted, tugging hard at his soft curls. “Oh, please.” you gasped through your dry throat.

 The combination of his tongue and fingers working on you made the butterflies in your stomach go wild and in between spasms and wriggling toes, you allowed yourself to surrender under his touch.

 Your vision blurred and your breathing ability seemed to have left your soul, but he kept with the wet kisses until you calmed down.

Your body was weak; that good weakness where you wished to stay quiet in the same comfy bliss forever.

“Are you good?” His voice made you open your eyes again. His chin was glistening and shirt folded up to the elbows. Such a sight for sore eyes.

“I’m fine, I’m pretty fine,” he laughed, helping you adjust your skirt.

“You’re pretty,” he said at your previous words, lying down and putting you on top of him.

Both of your faces were close - just as it had been all night. You could get used to it. Looking in his eyes, you wanted to ask if he would still think you were beautiful in the morning, when all the enthusiasm that parties bring to people were over; but you decided to go against it when you remembered that you had promised yourself to enjoy the moment.

“Whatcha thinkin’?” His asked, clasping his arms around. You felt nicely snugged.

“You,” it wasn't completely a lie.

His smile got bigger, and it was possible to analyze his cute crooked teeth. His eyes glued to you, sweet and happy, that you wished you could decipher him through it.

“Good, -- I like it like that,” He added.

It would be a matter of days for you to learn that his look was one of fondness and that you would live under it for months, seasons and even years.

#maneskin #thomas raggi #thomas raggi x reader #thomas raggi imagines #thomas raggi fanfic #damiano david x reader #fanfic #fiction #imagines #writing #maneskin x reader #i have a hard time proofreading this one but i hope you guys like it #i'll be writing kinky ones next time bc you guys notice im not that sweet

[ilici]

drunk on you.

Summary: C!Schlatt was known as the drunk who didn't care about anything besides himself. That all changed when Y/N showed up, he's never been so infatuated with something like he was with Y/N.

NSFW MINORS DNI !

Warnings: Size kink, choking, subspace, gagging, unprotected.

Word Count: 2117

Schlatt was in his office, when he heard Tubbo and Fundy's muffled voices growing closer to his office. He was in no mood for business, he was slightly buzzed from drinking more vodka. If he drank anymore, he'd be absolutely hammered, but he held himself back as he had a meeting for Manburg later that day. Hearing the knock he dreaded the most, he grunted wanting to ignore them, but once again a knock was heard this time more eager sounding. "President, we need to talk to you. It's urgent." Funny's voice ripped out into the silence, and Schlatt just glared at the shut door. Not answering, the door was swiftly opened by Tubbo, and Fundy looked at him as if he were crazy.

Tubbo walked in, his horns showing prominently after his haircut, "Hello Schlatt." Tubbo said, nonchalantly as if he's done that more times than once. Funny gave Schlatt an apologetic look, before following Tubbo inside, his orange fur popping as Schlatt's office was dark and dull. He wanted it to match his "heart" as if he even had one. So he forced Niki and Fundy to paint it, "What do you guys want?" Schlatt said, already annoyed at their presence, "We have someone new who joined Manberg, we tried to tell you yesterday but you kept yourself locked in here." Fundy explained, on edge afraid if he said one thing, the bottle of vodka that was on Schlatt's desk would be thrown at him.

Schlatt slowly looked over at the fox, as his eyes were glued on Tubbo, annoyed that he entered without permission for the eleventh time. "So? What's it to me?" He asked, and Fundy sighed, "Sir you're the president, it's mandatory for you to know if someone joins or leaves." He announced, and Schlatt just stared at him, face holding no emotions. Fundy gulped, fairly loudly, which made Tubbo glance over at him, grabbing his wrist so he would relax. "Well, who are they?" Schlatt asked, wanting this conversation to end already, "Apparently they are Sapnap's adopted sister. Dream and them went into the snow biome across here, and found her there. They took her in for a couple days, then she left and wandered into Manberg and asked if she could stay." Tubbo said, noticing how on edge Fundy was. Schlatt looked at him, "They didn't kill her on the spot?" He asked, genuinely confused.

"No, probably because she was already on the brink of death from starvation. She has amor, netherite to be exact, I've also heard from George that she is good at combat." Tubbo added on, catching Schlatt's attention. "Why didn't they just leave her there to rot?" He asked once more, and Tubbo sighed, growing annoyed at the fact that Schlatt keeps asking why they didn't let her die. "Sapnap apparently felt guilty, and wanted to take her in. I'm guessing it took a lot of persuasion, because Sapnap now has a cut down his face from which I am assuming is from Dream." He explained, "Where did you get this Information?" The president asked, and a new voice spoke up from behind Tubbo. "Me." A much softer voice said, which caught Schlatt off guard.

Schlatt wondered how he had not noticed her before, but what threw him off even more was the fact that he could not see the girl. She was behind Tubbo, and Tubbo was already very short, so how old was this girl and how short was she? "Show yourself." He said, intrigued, and a small girl, decked out in netherite stepped out from behind Tubbo. It amazed him how small she was, she had to have been an inch smaller than 5'0. "What's your name?" He asked, and Y/N looked him in the eyes, her eyes held little to no emotions, "Y/N." She said, her voice strong and confident, "How old are you?" He asked, and Y/N just looked down, as if this conversation bored her. "I'm legal, if that's what you were wondering perv." She said, noticing that Schlatt was indeed checking her out.

Schlatt chuckled at her, "Fiesty aren't we?" He said, and Y/N glared at him, her E/C piercing through his skull. "Only with old men like you." She replied, and Schlatt let out a huff of air through his nostrils, almost as if it were meant to be a laugh. "She's welcome to join Manberg." He said, and Tubbo looked down at the girl, "Come on let's go Y/N." He said grabbing her wrist, his other hand still occupied with holding Fundy's. Dragging the two out, quite literally, the other two were stumbling on their feet trying to keep up with the teenager. "Slow down." Fundy pleaded, and Tubbo finally came to a halt when they were out of the building, "Y/N you will need to take your armor off, it's sorta a rule not to wear it in Manberg." He said, and Y/N audibly sighed as she took off her amor. Once her helmet was off her H/C hair finally showed itself, her H/L blowing in the gust of wind.

"You look pretty." Fundy said, now being able to see her without the amor, "Thanks I guess?" Y/N said, not really used to compliments. Her outfit consisted of F/C shirt and jeans. Her combat boots complimented the outfit, "Well we already gave you the tour yesterday, so if you need anything, you know where to find us." Tubbo said, as the two walked to their designated areas. Y/N looked around to try and find something to do, but was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming up behind her. "Hello Schlatt." Y/N said, turning her head to the side where he now stood. "How'd you know it was me?" He asked, and Y/N just looked away, "You reek of alcohol, I basically smelt you." She said, and Schlatt scoffed and looked at her side profile. Schlatt being way taller than her, made him think of very inappropriate things he could do with her. "I don't appreciate that." Y/N spoke up, and Schlatt gave her a weird look, "I can hear your thoughts. They are very loud and fairly annoying." She told him, and Schlatt just looked away.

"How can you read minds?" He asked, and Y/N looked away, "I don't want to talk about my past." She mumbled, and Schlatt just nodded looking back at her, "So tell me what I am thinking of right now. Prove me wrong, because I don't believe you." He said, and Y/N looked over at him blankly, "What happens if I don't?" She said, wanting to bother him. Schlatt smirked, "You already know." He whispered, and Y/N rolled her eyes. "You're disgusting." She said walking away from him. Schlatt chuckled watching her walk away, before he walked away to go to the meeting he was having with Quackity and George. The entire meeting, his mind was thinking about Y/N in many ways.

It's now been four months since Y/N joined Manberg, and Schlatt has been on her ass at any moment he could. Y/N couldn't deny the feelings she was growing for the overly horny man. She could hear everyone's thoughts, but Schlatt's always overpowered theirs, which annoyed her because he kept her awake during the night with his lewd thoughts. "Fuck you Schlatt." She groaned tossing and turning in her bed, trying to sleep. Currently, Schlatt was having another daydream of him ruthlessly fucking the shit out of Y/N. She mainly couldn't sleep because of how loud his thoughts were, but she also felt this itching sensation that she tried to get rid of by touching herself but she simply couldn't cum. She never could, which was causing her sexual frustration to sky rocket. Letting a frustrated scream out, she threw her pillow at the wall before she got up.

She was now wearing her night shorts, and one of Fundy's shirts that she borrowed, from three months ago. Slinging her door open, she didn't care about the cold air biting at her bare legs and feet as she stomped her way towards Schlatt's house. "You fucking horny fuck." She grumbled on her way there, and Jack, who was awake watched her angrily make her way to Schlatt's house. He silently laughed to himself, as he knew why she was going there. He's caught her doing this many other times, which they bonded over and now the two were super close. "Don't kill him." Jack slightly shouted, and Y/N just flipped him off as she continued her way towards the rather ugly birch wood house. Ripping the door open, not even caring to knock at this point she basically bolted to his room. "Schlatt you motherfucker." She said, slinging the door open, and Schlatt looked over at her.

"What seems to be the problem princess?" He asked, and Y/N glared at him, as his eyes were glued to her thighs. "I will rip those horns right out of your goddamn head." She threatened, and Schlatt laughed getting up, his white t-shirt and black sweat pants, now visible. Walking over to her, he stood in front of her, dangerously close, "Do it." He whispered, and Y/N shoved his chest roughly, which he just stumbled back a bit before going back to his spot. "It's two in the morning princess, and yet here you are. In my room." He whispered, this time his voice huskier which sent a chill down Y/N's spine. "This is your room, what are you going to do about it?" She dared, and Schlatt chuckled darkly, "You already know." He said, as Y/N got deja vu from their first interaction like this.

Y/N bit her bottom lip, as Schlatt roughly grabbed her thighs hoisting her up and throwing her on his bed. Y/N let a giggle rip through her throat, as Schlatt was now hovering over her, his shirt already discarded. "Eager are we?" She teased, and Schlatt growled, "I could drink so much alcohol and be absolutely wasted, but somehow you make me so much more drunk." He said, and Y/N grinned, "Do it." She whispered, as Schlatt thought of just fucking her then and there. Schlatt groaned, and ripped her clothes, literally. "That was Fundy's shirt.." She groaned out, and Schlatt chuckled, "That's why I did that princess." He said, before flipping her over, "Ass up now." He said, giving it a harsh slap as he quickly took off the remaining clothes he had on.

"Mouth open, now." He said, and Y/N opened her mouth as he quickly shoved his fingers down her throat keeping them there as she gagged onto them. Chuckling, he teased her entrance with his tip, before he roughly thrusted into her, making her gurgle from a moan, choking a bit from his fingers. Using his other hand, he pushed her down into the mattress as he thrusted into her with no remorse. Once he saw tears streaming down her face, he pulled his fingers out of her mouth, letting her cough to catch her breath. "God you're so beautiful." He whispered to her, as he sped up his thrusts, not caring if she was now overly sensitive since she had cum on him seconds before pulling his fingers out. Y/N only let out a couple sounds, which were supposed to be words. She was too far gone to form sentences, "Awh, is my cock that good that you can't speak? Did my cock do this to you princess?" He teased, and Y/N barely heard him, making him realize how far gone she was. Wrapping his hand around her throat, he choked her smirking.

This only made him feel even more egotistical, as he did this to her. After a couple rough sloppy thrusts, he let his cum feel her up to the brim. Pulling out, he fell down beside her, catching his breath while Y/N was attempting to come back. Getting up, he walked over to his bathroom dampening a rag before coming back and cleaning her thighs, and wiping the sweat off of her body. Throwing the rag back into the bathroom, he laid beside her, pulling her body to his gently not to hurt her. Jack smirked, as he realized what happened when he saw a stumbling Y/N walking out of the house, wearing a pair of Schlatt's sweats and one of his shirts that reached her knee's basically. "Well I'll be damned, he killed your guts." Jack said, and Y/N picked up a rock chucking it at him, "Fuck you."

#jschlatt #schlatt #schlatt x reader #schlatt smut #mcyt x reader #mcyt imagine #schlatt imagine #dream smp

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

hiya there! i love your work and i was wondering if i could request a Chishiya fic where its 3 times the reader almost kisses him and the one time he kisses them OR 3 times they almost confess their feelings and the one time Chishiya confesses his feelings. its up to you! :D

Thanks for you request! Here you go! 😉

Interrupted Confessions | Shuntaro Chishiya

{Alice In Borderland Masterlist}

{Main Masterlist}

Character(s): Chishiya (ft. Niragi, middle-aged woman from the second game, OC, Aguni, militants)

Summary: You and Chishiya keep trying to confess your feelings for one another, but something always seems to come between you when you finally get the chance

Warnings: drinking (reader), violence, mention of dying/death, guns, gunshots, panicking, mild angst

Word Count: 2.5k

*reader is gender-neutral

Chishiya wasn’t the best at expressing his emotions, especially when it came to romantic feelings. He appeared so confident and smug most of the time, but if someone was to even give him a bouquet of flowers or wink in his direction, his sarcastic remarks become caught in his throat and he doesn’t know how to react.

He could tell that you held romantic emotions for him. He was a people watcher, so he knows how people act when they feel that way. For ages, he tried to ignore the fact that you liked him, but as time pressed on and he began noticing you a lot more during games and at The Beach, he could slowly feel himself develop feelings for you back.

He knew he had to tell you soon enough, but every time he tried to open up to you, the world just didn’t allow him to have the chance.

************

1st Attempt

The first attempt Chishiya had at trying to express his interest in you was at The Beach.

It was a usual late night, everyone dancing and singing on the big patio of the hotel, allowing themselves to indulge in the delusional thoughts of being safe and sound, not having to worry about their lives for the time that the alcohol infected their hearts and minds.

You had had a few drinks, beginning to feel a little light headed yourself. You had dragged Chishiya down to the bar with you, convincing him to keep you company due to not being able to find Kuina or Usagi. Chishiya gladly went along, wanting to make sure you didn’t over do it and end up getting yourself hurt.

You sat on a stool at the bar, leaning on the wooden bench and staring down into your empty cocktail glass. Chishiya leant on the bar next to you, scanning the crowd of rowdy and social people. It was entertaining, watching people being drunken idiots.

He glanced over to you as you placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Chishiya,” you mumbled. “Have a shot. I feel bad for being the only one ordering. You’re making me look like an alcoholic.” You nudged a small glass filled to the brim with liquor in his direction, trying to encourage him to drink it.

Chishiya smirked as you looked at him pleadingly. He lifted his hand out of his white hoodie pocket and pet your head playfully. “No thanks Y/N. A matter of fact, I think you’ve had quite a bit.”

He could tell the intoxicating alcohol was beginning to get to you as he saw your eyes begin to gloss over. Your movements became a little more lazy and disorientated.

You pouted and looked into his piercing eyes that filled with the unfamiliar feeling of care and concern for you. “Just one more cocktail? We haven’t even been down here for long and you already want to leave,” you groaned, turning back to the bar to shout for the bartender.

Chishiya rolled his eyes and chuckled at you. You were lucky he liked you. If anyone else was to act the way you did around him, they would irritate him like no tomorrow.

Around half an hour later, Chishiya and you were strolling up the stairs to the roof, wanting to escape the chaotic ground level that pounded heavily as the bass in each song seemed to become more and more powerful, beginning to make your head hurt.

Chishiya and you giggled together as you tripped up the stairs slightly, being able to catch yourself before you face planted. Chishiya held a firm grip on your shoulders, making sure you don’t end up hurting yourself.

“You’re such a lil’ goose,” he laughed, turning his head towards you with a wide smile across his face, showing off his cute teeth. You smacked his cheek lightly, being embarrassed from his intense stare, considering how close his lips were to yours. “Shut up, you’re no better when you’re drunk. Last time you drank, I had to drag your ass up all these stairs like a baby. And you’re much heavier than you look.”

Chishiya laughed, and in a moment of bravery, he lifted a hand and gently stroked his knuckles across your face. Your skin was hot and soft under his touch, making him feel warm inside and gaze lovingly at you.

Silence took over the atmosphere, and you both stood still in the hallway together and stared into each other’s eyes. You weren’t sure if it was the alcohol talking, but the warm lights made Chishiya’s skin glow beautifully, and you didn’t think he had ever looked so gorgeous.

“Y/N,” he whispered. “Can I do something?” His heart was pounding so loudly, he was afraid you would be able to hear it through his chest. Why was he suddenly feeling brave?

You smirked and cocked your head to the side, pretending to not understand what he wanted. “And what would that be?” you questioned in a playful tone.

Chishiya took his arm off your shoulder and placed it against your other cheek, holding your face delicately in his hands so he could keep you looking at him. “This.”

Just as Chishiya was slowly leaning in to crash his lips onto yours, you both suddenly heard a deafening bang down the hall. The sound made you both quickly jump apart in fright, snapping your heads to see what caused the noise.

There stood none other than Niragi, having just kicked a young woman into the wall across from the room they came from. 

“Locking doors I see? What exactly do you have to hide?!”

Chishiya and you stood completely still as you watched Niragi stride over to the woman and grip a fist full of her hair, pulling her up and making her scream in pain.

“Y/N, come on,” Chishiya said quietly next to you, sounding rushed.

You looked at him confused. “What? We can’t just leave her,” you said, stumbling after him as he dragged you by your wrist, trying to pull you away from the scene.

“It’s not our business. She went against the rules, we can’t defend her.”

That wasn’t true. He could easily take on Niragi to help the girl, and so could have you. But considering your state at the moment, and Chishiya’s main concern being your safety around Niragi, he just wanted to leave to get you safe again.

Your safety was more important than a small kiss or saving a girl who broke the rules.

*************

2nd Attempt

Chishiya’s second attempt to admit his romantic feelings towards you occurred at a game together.

The game was held in an apartment complex. Luckily, you two had managed to be put into the same group, meaning you could work together to survive. Two militants from The Beach also joined you, one of them being Aguni. Chishiya and you knew you wouldn’t receive any help from them, so you decided to just stick to you two for this one.

The game was a five of spades. The players had to find a safe zone to turn off a bomb within the time limit without getting killed by the ‘Tagger’.

As soon as the game began, you suggested to Chishiya to go to the top level, as you would be able to get a good view from there and be able to determine the Tagger’s patterns and habits to take note when searching for the unlocked door.

You both stood at the end of the top floor, having a clear view of the many levels and seeing all the players scattered in different positions.

You felt your heart sink as you saw a middle aged lady with a handbag on one of the middle levels. She was alone, looking around confused. It made you guilty that you couldn’t do anything to help her.

“As usual,” you heard Chishiya mumble beside you. You glanced at him and saw him scanning the players before continuing. “Everyone looks like they’re about to die.”

You blinked at his statement, looking back over the edge of the concrete railing. The vast sea of darkness that became darker the further it was away from the game made you feel empty. It purely just appeared like a black hole, waiting to suck you back into it’s depressive atmosphere.

“Sounds about right,” you responded to Chishiya.

Chishiya turned his head towards you, feeling his white locks become tangled together from the wispy wind. He examined your features as you stared over the area, admiring the way your skin glowed in the fluorescent lights. He looked down to your legs, hearing your shoe lightly tap anxiously on the ground.

He slid closer to you on the railing, placing a soft hand on your thigh to still your shaking leg and placed his chin on your shoulder before speaking softly. “Don’t be scared, I’ll protect you.”

You turned your head slowly towards him, seeing your lips only inches apart once again. You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “As if I need protection,” you teased.

Chishiya huffed, hiding his face in your hair in fear of you seeing the blush creeping onto his cheeks. You smiled at his movements. “You’re a bit clingy today, aren’t you?”

From that comment, Chishiya pulled his head back and looked into your eyes. His emotions were bouncing around his mind, making his heart beat quickly in confusion. Why couldn’t he just say it? Either of you could die at any time, why was he wasting time?

A piercing sound filled the air, and you gripped the back of Chishiya’s hoodie to roughly pull him to the harsh ground. Your reflexes went into overdrive as the gunshots rang. You glanced towards the hall on your right, in fear of seeing the tagger there. But luckily he wasn’t.

“Y/N, look.”

You looked towards Chishiya to see him standing over the railing again. You scrambled to your feet and stood beside him, following his line of sight.

A door a few levels down had several bullet holes around the sides of it. The tagger had tried to shoot someone there from a different level.

“He hasn’t done that yet. He’s trying to protect it,” Chishiya theorized. You nodded and pushed off the railing. “Come on, we don’t have much time left.”

You both quickly entered the lift and selected the floor the damaged door was on. 

As you both stood in silence, Chishiya’s words that almost poured out of his mouth before still rang in his ears.

‘I’m clingy because you make me feel safe.’

When will he ever have the chance again to tell you that?

He promised himself that if you both survived that game, he would confess to you before your next game. Because who knows what the game makers would make you do next? For all he knew, it could get you killed, and he would never be able to get to tell you how he feels.

************ 3rd Attempt

Surprisingly, Chishiya wasn’t the one to confess his feelings first. You were able to bring enough courage together to say it to him, but it wasn’t under the best circumstances.

He always envisioned his confession to you as being sweet and loving. He dreamed of telling you how he felt underneath the stairs on the roof, like a cliché romance movie.

But he didn’t get that chance.

You and him were huddled together in the corner of a trashed room. Chishiya held you tightly against his chest, patting your head to try and ease your rapidly beating heart and nervous breaths.

“Shh,” he whispered, his voice shaking slightly. “It’s okay. This’ll be over soon, and we can leave. We can find somewhere else to go.”

Gunshots rang outside the door of the room you were hidden in. Chishiya felt you flinch at every bang, making his heart sink lower and lower. He hated not being able to comfort you, it made him feel sick almost.

The Beach had become a game arena. Aguni has demanded the militants to kill everyone on sight so he could find the witch the hard way. As soon as Niragi had yelled and shot several bullets to the ceiling, sending everyone into a sudden panic, Chishiya didn’t even give you time to think before grabbing your arm and dragging you hurryingly away from the lobby to hide from the militants. 

So there you were, trying to make yourselves as small as possible behind a turned over table in the corner of a pitch black hotel room. Chishiya thought it was best not to hide in his room or your room because the militants would look there first to find you.

Chishiya lifted his face from the top of your head to glance towards the door. He sobbed slightly in fear as he saw shadows through the small crack at the bottom of the door. People were running back and forth through the halls screeching for help, trying to escape the murderous militants.

He felt you wrap your hand around his upper back and tuck your face into his neck, causing your tears to make his sensitive skin wet, not that he really cared.

He sighed heavily, trying to relax into your touch. It was deemed impossible to be calm, but having you there with him brought him more relief than anything else could’ve in that moment.

Chishiya placed his cheek on your head, snuggling into you and inhaling your scent. “I-I’m sorry,” you mumbled out.

Chishiya frowned at your apology. “Why are you saying sorry?” he asked.

“I-I’m sorry,” you cried quietly again. “I’m so in love with you Chishiya, and I’m so sorry that I’ve waited until now to say it. But I’m afraid if I don’t, I won’t get another chance.”

Chishiya felt his heart stop in his chest. Silence fell over both of you, but then Chishiya placed a soft hand on your jaw to lift your teary face to face his.

“You idiot,” he laughed, tears still streaming down his smooth cheeks. “You’re an idiot. You should’ve told me this sooner, I’ve been waiting for the perfect moment to tell you the exact same thing.”

His words only made you sob harder, pushing your face towards him to share a desperate kiss. It was messy and emotional, but that kiss alone was enough to make both of you understand how much you truly cared.

Whether you both lived or died at that moment didn’t matter to either of you, all that mattered was that Chishiya finally crawled out of his shell to let you in, and you had finally been able to create the courage to express what you truly felt about him.

*****************

3 Months Later...

The breeze flew gently past your body, making your skin develop small goosebumps at the cold feeling. Your eyes scanned over the vast ocean of water in front of you, almost being blinded from the morning sun reflecting off the surface.

You glanced behind you quickly when you heard light taps of feet against the grassy ground. Chishiya walked away from the tent and rubbed his eyes. He sat next to you, but not without giving you a soft kiss on the cheek.

“Good morning baby,” he whispered into your ear. You smiled at the pet name, turning your head and placing your lips against his. “Good morning.”

#alice in borderland #alice in borderland imagines #alice in borderland imagine #alice in borderland one shots #alice in borderland scenarios #alice in borderland x reader #aib #aib imagines #aib imagine #aib one shots #aib scenarios #aib x reader #chishiya #shuntaro chishiya #chishiya imagines #chishiya imagine #chishiya one shots #chishiya scenarios #chishiya x reader #shuntaro chishiya x reader

[cruciology]

Under the Table

Requested by anon: Ok i don’t know if this is too smutty but could I request a sandor x reader where they’re at a tavern or something and reader starts touching him under the table. No one notices but he has to stay serious and tries his best to hide it and as soon as they’re both alone she’s getting her reward.

a sequel to my fic, The Princess and the Dog

The chilly air of Winterfell gave you constant goosebumps. You supposed it was better than being on the King’s Road as you had been for a month, but you were still cold, even with the new fur cloak you had been gifted by your father. You had a feeling it meant he had bad news for you, he just hadn’t told you yet.

You wrapped the cloak tighter around your nightdress as you stepped out of your room and into the hall. Your little sister slept like the dead in the room next to yours. It was only your first night in Winterfell, but you had taken notice of where the guards were placed. It was easy enough to avoid them as you sneaked to the end of the hall, passed where Joffrey and Tommen slept, and rapped on the Hound’s door. After a moment, it cracked open just the slightest bit. When he saw it was you, the Hound quickly pulled you in before anyone could see.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He growled, shutting the door as quietly as he could. He had been in bed and wore only his pants, his hairy chest bare.

“I didn’t get caught, it’s alright,” you insisted. You were hoping he would be happier to see you. On the road, you were constantly surrounded by guards or your family. Besides a few squeezes of your hand in passing, you hadn’t felt his touch since you left the capitol. Your mother had kept her promise and hadn’t said anything after she had caught you with him in the library, but she kept a closer eye on you now. “I missed you,” you said softly.

His mouth was a hard line as he looked at you. Finally, he placed his hands on your hips, drawing you close to him. You pressed your face into his chest, almost crying at having him close again after all this time.

“It was stupid,” he said as he held you. You laughed.

“Don’t worry, I know you missed me too,” you said. He sat down on the wooden chair that stood by his window, pulling you by the hand until you sat on his lap. The cloak fell to the floor but you were warm enough when he wrapped his arms around you, his rough hands sliding over the silk of your nightdress.

Finally, you were able to press your lips to his. You kissed him gently first, as a lady should, but then you needed to show him just how much you missed him. Heat pooled between your thighs as you threaded your fingers through his hair, kissing him hungrily. He growled low in his throat as he kissed you back. His hand went under the hem of your nightdress, up your thigh, and you gasped softly as his finger entered you. You hadn’t even had enough space in the last month to touch yourself and his touch felt like magic as he stroked you from the inside.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw, then your neck, sending a chill down your spine that had nothing to do with the cold. “How does that feel, Princess?” He asked against the shell of your ear.

“So good,” You muttered back, eyes closed.

You felt him start to remove his hand and squeezed your thighs tight in an attempt to keep him going. He laughed slightly as he brought his hand to his face. He licked you off of his fingers, groaning softly and sending another surge of heat through your body.

He kissed you roughly, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. “You taste so fucking good,” He said against your mouth. He gathered you up in his arms with ease, moving to take you to the bed.

Someone pounded on the door with a heavy hand. In an instant, you were on the bed, the Hound quickly covering you with the thick blanket. Your heart pounded in your chest as you listened to the Hound open the door once again. It nearly froze when you heard your father’s voice in the hall.

“Didn’t wake you, did I, Clegane?” He laughed. He was drunk, it was clear from his slurred words. The welcome feast ended hours ago. He must have stayed up drinking with his old friends.

“Wasn’t sleeping, Your Grace,” The Hound spoke to your father with your taste still on his lips. “What can I do for you?”

“Put some clothes on, Hound, we’re going on a hunt,” The King said. You could hear him clap the Hound on the shoulder roughly.

“It’s well past midnight, Your Grace,” The Hound informed him.

“What are you, my wife?” Your father said. “I am your king!”

“Why don’t you retire to your chambers, I’ll get you more wine,” The Hound suggested. He knew your father well. He wouldn’t say no to more alcohol.

“Wine and a girl,” The King laughed. Your lip curled in disgust, but if it got him away from the Hound’s room without him seeing you in the bed, you didn’t care what your father did.

“Wine and a girl,” the Hound confirmed.

“Get one for yourself while you’re at it.” You heard your father stumble away. For a brief moment you wondered if you should worry about him, but there were dozens of other guards along the way who would help him back up to his room. He would most likely be asleep before the Hound could find him again.

You felt the blanket fly off of you as soon as the door was closed. “Go back to your room,” The Hound instructed. “Now.”

You stood up, not even coming to his shoulder. You reached up, touching the burnt side of his face, letting your fingers memorize the scar. His eyes closed just briefly. He put his hand over yours. You stood on your toes, kissing him gently before sneaking out again.

---

You never really drank. But after the news you had gotten, you decided now was as good a time as any. Your body wasn’t quite used to it, only having previously had a few sips here and there. As the residents of Winterfell were once again crammed into the dining hall, you nursed your third glass, feeling the warmth spread in your chest. Everyone was pleasantly drunk around you, save for the severe Ned Stark and his lady wife, so you didn’t feel left out despite sitting off on your own at a table near the exit.

You stared at the table where your newly announced betrothed sat. Robb Stark was handsome, strong, and kind. He had lands and a title. You would be the Lady of Winterfell. You had known this was coming, but it didn’t mean you had to like it. Your mother didn’t even try to hide the smug look on her face when your father broke the news to you earlier. You suspected it was directed at your guard who had been in the room as well, something you were sure she had planned. Your mother would get what she wanted after all.

“Princess,” You heard from behind you. Your heart lifted instantly.

“Sit,” You insisted, patting the seat next to you. The Hound’s eyes scanned the room and you rolled yours. “It’s not unheard of. You’re supposed to be guarding me, you can guard me from down here.”

“You’re drunk,” He noted as he sat next to you. You felt the bench creek under his large body. You wished that you were alone so he could pull you into his lap. You were so tired of not even being able to hold his hand.

“I might be,” you said.

“You are.” He grabbed a pint for himself, taking it halfway down with one solid gulp. “Celebrating your engagement, Princess?”

“Stop it,” you said with a tight jaw. “You know I’d rather-,”

“Be quiet about that,” The Hound said, his eyes darting around the room once again. A few eyes were on you, but they were passing glances, folks wondering why the Princess was off alone, but you knew they were not going to question your choice of company.

“I’m sorry,” you said. “But you can’t be upset with me, I can’t take that along with everything else. It’s not my fault.”

The Hound made a noise half way between a grunt and a sigh, but still didn’t look at you. “I know,” he said.

Your hand found his knee comfortingly under the table. It was probably the wine in your stomach that made you unafraid of any consequences. You were surprised he didn’t pull away, but he let you leave your hand there. You were feeling sad and stupid. You moved your hand up further, touching the inside of his thigh. The growl from his throat didn’t stop you. So long without touching him for fear of being caught and here you were now with your hand in his lap when the dining hall was full of eyes.

“Princess,” he said through clenched teeth. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” He was trying not to draw attention. Just drunk enough not to care, you moved your hand even further. His breath came out as a hiss as you palmed the growing bulge in his pants. His massive hand clamped around your wrist.

“No one is even looking,” you said, not really caring if they were.

“Are you trying to lose me my head?” He asked. You noticed that he hadn’t moved your hand away from him. You squeezed him, making him groan. “Fucking hells,” he muttered, placing both hands on the table. He wasn’t going to stop you.

You made sure you weren’t looking directly at him as you stroked your hand up and down his length through his pants. You watched his hand on the table clench into a fist as he tried to keep a straight face. “It’s a lovely feast, isn’t it?” You asked, a wicked smirk playing at your lips. He merely grunted. The wine and the thrill of touching him once again made you forget for a moment the pressure you had felt since the news of your engagement.

“But I do think I have had a bit too much to drink,” You said, loudly enough for anyone at the tables near you to hear. Luckily, they were drunker than you. “Walk me back to my room, please.”

The Hound rose first, helping you balance yourself. You really did have a bit too much to drink. He let you go as soon as he thought you would be able to stand. You looked over your shoulder for just a moment, catching a glance at your mother. She sipped her wine next to your father, who was probably the drunkest one in the room. No one would say anything to the King about his drinking. Your mother caught your look but said nothing. She knew who your father would believe if you went to him with what you knew.

The Hound walked a few steps behind you as you walked out of the hall. The voices from the dining hall carried out into the corridor. As soon as you turned the corner, far enough away from the crowd, his hands were on you. You giggled drunkenly as he scooped you up.

“You’re going to get me in trouble, Princess,” he said into your neck, placing a sloppy kiss on the column of your throat. He shouldered the nearest door open. You should have been more worried about getting caught but the only thoughts swimming through the alcohol in your brain were about the Hound’s mouth.

The room was empty and almost pitch black, the only light coming from the full moon outside. The Hound sat you down on the plush loveseat pushed against the wall. You grabbed his belt, attempting to pull him towards you and finish what you had started in the dining hall but it appeared he had other plans. He pushed your hand away.

“Your turn, Princess.”

He lowered himself to his knees in front of you, giving you a breathless kiss, his massive hand cupping your cheek. Leaving your head spinning, he pulled away. He shoved your skirt up, gathering it at your thighs. He pulled you down to the edge of the seat, spreading your legs before him. He placed your legs over his broad shoulders, the metal of his armor cool on your flushed skin. From the wine or from him, you couldn’t be entirely sure.

He bit the inside of your thigh, placing a kiss over it just as quickly. You were just about to tell him not to tease you when you felt his tongue at your apex. Your hands went to his hair, your head going back against the love seat. It had been so long since he could have you like this, he lapped at your pussy hungrily, his fingers digging into your thighs in a way you knew would leave a bruise. That made it even sweeter.

“Sandor, please,” You begged, tugging at his hair, trying to pull him up to kiss you again. You weren’t sure how much time you had with him and you wanted to feel all of him before you had to part. Normally, he would tell you he was going to take his bloody time, but he was probably thinking the same as you.

The Hound wrapped his arm around your waist, moving you to lay with your head on the armrest of the loveseat, his body looming over you. He was always afraid to put his whole weight on you, but you liked feeling his presence. You helped him pull himself out of his pants and with one quick thrust, he was fully seated inside of you. He paused for a moment, his face in the crook of your neck. You guided his face back to yours, kissing him. You wrapped your legs around him, making sure he was as close as he could be to you. He rutted into you, each thrust punctuated with a grunt. He kissed your neck, your cheek, your collarbone, your mouth, any bit of you he could. His thumb found its way to your clit, finishing what his tongue had started. Your legs squeezed him tighter. You tried to stay quiet, but his free hand still went over your mouth, muffling the cry as you came, your legs tight around him.

He took his hand from your mouth, placing it on the loveseat next to you to brace himself. His other hand moved to the small of your back, pushing you closer to him as he fucked you. You wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him in to whisper in his ear, “Cum in me.”

The hand on your back moved to your outer thigh, squeezing tight as he shuddered, finishing into you with a final grunt. He hid his face in your neck, his hot breath sending a shiver down your spine.

“Stupid, that was stupid,” The Hound muttered into your skin.

You pulled his face towards you, making sure his eyes met yours. “I love you,” you said firmly. His eyes darted away again. You had said it only once before to him. He never said it back, it wasn’t his way.

Instead, he kissed you and responded, “Aye.”

#I am so sorry I haven't posted in 5ever #I had a lot going on but here y'all go #the hound #the hound fanfiction #game of thrones #game of thrones fanfiction #smut #fanfiction #sandor clegane #sandor clegane x reader #the hound x reader #sandor clegane fanfiction