#and not even 3 hours later i'm sitting here with tears in my eyes and pain in my chest...

[akingdomscrypt]

War is Over (and what have we done?)

Part Five

Paring; Graves x m!reader (slow burn)

WC; ~8.8k

Summary; where was Graves in all those months he was gone? What brought him back?

Warnings; just some general internal turmoil, brief imagery of death, implied human trafficking when including the context of past chapters, a lot of self doubt/feelings of betrayal. Tame compared to my usual stuff tbh

A/n; I hate dialogue. Also the moon phase mentioned in the beginning is what it would have been in-game for that mission too :3

---"I'll crawl home to him"---

You arrive a few hours later, according to the ticking clock above the bed—knife still embedded into the plastic face and all, he hadn't bothered to remove it, even after all this time—and at that point Phil had started to believe Venn had chickened out. That, or she just didn't bother telling you.. perhaps she had forgotten. All were of an extremely low probability. He should know better by now than to doubt her.

Even now, only a few weeks later. You looked so.. so drastically different. Phil takes stock, compares your current form from when he had last seen you all those weeks ago—had it been weeks? Phil didn't even know what day it was.

Drifting. Up, down, and across every inch of your concealed form. Something foreign pulls at the hardened strings of his heart—strands of silk toughened up by years upon years of repressed emotion and poorly dealt hands—at the sight of you. Standing tall and confident, as if he can't see the strain buried in your shoulders from the effort of holding yourself up, keeping yourself from crumbling to dust right before his eyes. And he swears you've lost weight, a noticeable difference in the amount of muscle mass wrapped around your bones, even under all that clothing.

When his gaze meets yours, taking a peek into the torn and frayed patchwork of your soul, all he can feel is the stinging reminder of you wishing him dead. Telling him you'd hoped he'd died all those months back; suffocated by his own lungs.

And it's like the past decade of getting to know you, watching you open up, never happened. Wound so tightly, that all that progress is dumped right down the drain; he isn't sure if he'd ever be able to tear down those walls again. Not this time. He scrambles brick by brick to reach the top, but you're too fast, replacing those crumbling stacks with bolts and iron at an alarming rate.

He can't see over the wall anymore, it's too high to reach, too steep to climb. And he fears he may never have the honor of reaching that softer center ever again, barred by thick metal and scathing words.  

“You wanted to see me?” Hell… you even sound different. Cool and collected on the surface, but there's an edge there that tells Phil you're not as put together as you are trying to appear to be.

“I did.” But now that you're here, he can't remember the script he'd spent the last week constructing, so delicately, in his mind.

“Well,” you drawl, lifting your arms and gesturing widely. Dropping back down to your sides with a dull smack. “I'm here.”

Are you? Phil doesn't think so. Not really.

Your eyes are the only thing on display, and just a year ago Phil wouldn've prided himself in the fact that he could read you so well. But not anymore. 

He can't see that lighthouse shining through, guiding him through the night. There's nothing there. The lamp has run out of oil, and the keeper died months ago.

You're right here, and yet Phil has never found you to be so out of reach. 

Who would've thought; his savior, and the one who had damned him to the fiery pits of hell, were both the same man. It felt almost poetic.

Phil thinks he had made peace with his death. Sure, this hadn't been what his younger self had imagined when the topic of death was brought up; still bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, believing himself to be near invincible. 

He had never been particularly religious, even after being forced to sit in those church pews and listen to some old man drone on and on about shit his child brain didn't care to make sense of. Bored out of his mind, but only sitting still, behaving, because doing the opposite meant taking over his younger sister's chores for the rest of the day. 

Phil still couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this was some sort of fucked-up retribution or some shit like that. Paying for the sins he'd committed within his lifespan, and so on.

And he wasn't just speaking of the blood that permanently stained his hands, no, he was thinking of you. Always you. 

You and those endless pools of warmth that made up your eyes, always a slight glimmer in them when you looked his way. You and those rough, work-hardened hands, always so soft and gentle when you handled him. Like he was something delicate, something to be cherished and protected. Him the altar and you the devoted worshiper knelt before him, praying for the mercy of a god who never answered your calls. 

And that laugh. Like nothing else he had experienced before, a blessed thing he was granted the honor of witnessing. Of having directed his way. So rare, but so carefully captured and sealed away in Phil's heart when he heard its boisterous sound. 

The main reason Phil had never really connected with the religion he was raised into was, even though they were the same people who preached about community and loving thy neighbor and whatever the hell, they were also the kind to shun and exile those they deemed unworthy. Those who didn't fit into the cookie cutter shapes chosen for them before they'd even taken their first breath. 

He had completely dismissed his family's religion entirely when, after one of the members of his church discovered him getting a bit too cuddly—nothing more than an innocent hug that lasted a few seconds longer than it should—with one of his male classmates, they were outcast from the very same church he'd practically grown up in. And Phil would forever be thankful for having parents who stuck up for him to the very end, he doesn't think he'd ever seen his dad so thoroughly pissed off than when going after a churchgoer who'd slung a few cruel choice words at a younger Phil. 

And Phil can't help but feel he knew this was how it would end when he made the decision; like some cruel method of justice.

So, while he no longer considered himself aligned with any specific religion, Phil still held onto that deep-rooted fear of something. Of damnation and redemption. And in that moment, as his heart began to slow and stutter in his chest, when his head felt too heavy to hold up, and the simple task of breathing caused his chest to burn, he did something he hadn't done since middle school. Something he never thought he'd do again.

He yearned for forgiveness; begged and pleaded until black swallowed up his vision whole.

Phil doesn't remember when the world had gone dark; doesn't think he had even fought against the pull. Willingly, had he responded to the siren's call through the waves crashing in his ear, a sound so alluring he would never even consider resisting, one that held a certain likeness to your voice. 

What he does remember is the sudden gulps of stinging ash in his lungs, shocking his system into alertness, and the touch of oddly cool hands pulling at his shoulders. Hard, sandy earth beneath him, but he can't look up, can't peel his eyelids open and take a glance at his savior when those hands disappear. Only to wrap a pair of arms snug around his waist and continue dragging him over jagged stones and bits of metal.

It's not until Phil abruptly feels a lot cooler than he did moments ago that he's finally able to force his eyes open, a gasping breath kick-starting his heart back into motion. 

And when he looks up, dazed and more than a little out of it, what he sees nearly steals his breath away once again. 

Smoke wafting off your uniform in waves, dancing with the remaining embers still shining bright in a sea of black like stars in a night sky. It should be terrifying, but it's not.

Because Phil cannot see how the material clings unnaturally to your body, his brain is too fogged up still to notice the torn patches in your clothing. Blood stains the dark fabric into a deeper shade, trickling from gouges in your skin and dripping onto his. 

All he sees is that perfect, unmarred face of yours. Mask pulled down and out of the way as you pant for breath; the flesh warmed a more intense reddish tone than usual, but Phil didn't register that, unable to yet comprehend that what was once untouched would soon become scarred and disfigured within the next few hours.

And with the setting sun positioned behind you, glowing almost like an angel's halo to frame your head, he had never been so enraptured by the sight of you as much as he was in that moment.

It's clumsy and uncoordinated, taking a few tries to even get the limb to function, but he manages. Reaching up to gently cup the jaw of his savior, his guardian angel, to feel that familiar warmth against his skin.

Only to have his wrist snatched out of the air by your still gloved hand, the hold a little tighter than normal, held for a second before being dropped carelessly onto his chest. And Phil doesn't have the energy to lift it again. 

“You breathin', sir?” Comes your once angelic voice, now sounding like someone had shoved a saw blade down your throat; scratchy and not at all the soothing rumble he was used to, a strange shiver alighting his nerves at the sound. 

All Phil can muster up is a strained, grunt-like sound in response. But that seems to be more than enough for you as you stand back up from your crouched position, sigh, and look over the ruined training grounds. 

There's a hard set to your jaw, and Phil begins to feel something akin to fear. An emotion he doesn't think he could recall ever feeling around you if he tried. 

“Good enough.” You huff, leaning back down to wrap your strong arms around his waist. Dragging him like a ragdoll to a more secluded, out-of-the-way spot just outside the remains of the designated training area. 

He can't fight it, can bring himself to move or speak or do much of anything, really. Laying limp in your hold and letting himself be hauled away.

Phil considers that whatever method of exfil you had prepared must be this way. He doesn't remember making any plans like that with you and the others. But why else would you take him here?

Those hopes are crushed when you prop him against a fallen log, the remains of Alejandro's base now just barely out of sight, then pull away.

“This should be fine,” you mumble to yourself, cold gaze studying him briefly before darting back to where you two had come from. “Mhm. They shouldn't patrol this far.”

“-nant?-” Crackles through your radio before Phil can muster the energy to ask you what you meant by that. The feed is distorted, the device had probably been damaged sometime during the fight, but it's clearly a panicked voice speaking on the other end. “-Lieu-en-t? Are- y- there? Pha-nt-m?-” 

“2-3,” you respond, voice level. “I'm here. Problem?” 

“-N-o, no problems, sir-” Kip, 2-3, says. A little calmer now that he has heard your voice. Phil watches the scene through blurry eyes. “-We got- he's- Viper is stable-”

“For now.” You mutter bitterly, switching the radio back on to reply with, “Give me a sit-rep, 2-3.” 

“-V-enn’s got ‘em lo-aded up-” a pause. “-a quarter left, sir.” 

A quarter left. Even in Phil’s muddled up state, he knows what that means. It meant three-quarters of the soldiers he had taken with him were dead. Too many to feasibly count. So many bodies left unidentified, in enemy territory. 

“-How-re yo-u and the- c-mander, Lt.?-” Phil would've said something if he could. But his vocal cords are paralyzed and his tongue feels like it's constructed of pure lead. 

“I’m breathing.” You joke, your slight amusement is obvious even in such a bland tone. At least to Phil it is. 

“A-nd,” if Kip notices, he doesn't mention it. “-and the commander?”

You spare one glance down at his slumped, barely breathing form, gaze shut-off and distant, and a cavernous pit of dread opens up in Phil's stomach.

“KIA.” You grunt, eyes narrowing down at Phil. And he may as well be, to have you look at him like that.

Kip doesn't respond and you click your radio off. And it's as easy as that, as if Phil, your co-founder, your friend, you lover, meant nothing to you. 

You turn and leave, and Phil doesn't even possess the ability to call your name.

The next time he wakes, Phil doesn't think he's been colder in his damn life. And he's done his time in deep dive operations in the frigid hellscape that is the wilderness of remote foreign bases just past the Bering Sea.

It's dark, stars and the illumination of the moons’ waxing gibbous all the man has to light his way. 

For a prolonged moment Phil doesn't even consider pushing himself up from his current pathetic, slumped over position against the decaying log. Would it even be worth it? He had nothing but the singed clothes on his back to call his own, not a weapon he can use in sight. Not even a pocket knife up his sleeve or a heart nestled in his ribcage. 

Phil has experienced his own fair share of betrayal within his lifetime; ranging from small, nonsense instances with his little sister, to slightly bigger ones like with the church; then there were the more prominent, glaring ones that stuck out like a sore thumb. From before he started this damn company, freshly enlisted, and only a year later when he met you.

With shitty, high ranked officers who didn't give a single fuck about what happened to him or his squad—not that that had changed much after being taken under the watchful eye of General Shepard. Freezing to death in bumfuck nowhere Russia, or nearly drowning in the middle of the goddamn Atlantic Ocean. 

You had been there for every single one. Such a constant in his life; a steady, unmovable force by Phil's side no matter what happened. Even before he'd fallen for you, before you became more than just a friend. Like two peas in a pod, you two.

There was no you without him, and vise versa, the soldiers you two worked with knew it too. They were always sure to throw in a teasing jab now and again, asking the typical “trouble in paradise?”, when you were spotted away from each other for more than a few hours.

So forgive Phil for being a bit melodramatic, because, out of all the people on this godforsaken planet, he never expected such a thing from you. 

Maybe he should have. He wouldn't be on the verge of catching fucking hypothermia in the middle of nowhere in a foreign country.

Phil tries to think back, to push past the pounding in his skull to recall even a moment that would have given away some sort of clue to your betrayal before it happened. Maybe he could've prevented it if he had just looked closer. 

But no. There's nothing. If anything, Phil recalls you being a bit more.. clingy, before this whole thing started. In your own way, of course; he's pretty sure you would rather be caught dead than let someone catch you hugging him or, heaven forbid, holding his hand. 

Your neediness manifested in standing just close enough to him that any shift in stance or movement caused your shoulders to brush together; getting up in his personal space and staying there. 

Maybe that was it? Maybe you had been so unusually affectionate because you'd planned on betraying him. And Phil was just too blinded by the sudden influx of your undivided attention to see it; he's starting to consider that that may have been your intention all along.

To distract him with your attention, to hide your true intentions under the guise of gentle words and adoring eyes. 

Phil gives it a few more minutes, shivering his ass off against that damn log, before he finally gives in and decides to stand. He wasn't dead—yet—and by staying he was nothing more than a sitting duck in shark infested waters—which was a weird saying, wasn't it; how could the waters be infested when that was a shark's natural habitat? 

Traveling under the blanket of night provided him with the highest chances of survival, even if it meant he was constantly on the verge of freezing to death. Under the dark, star speckled sky, he was, for the most part, safe from the prying eyes of enemy soldiers. It would be much more difficult for them to spot him under the protection of a waxing moon than, say, the full, all-encompassing concentrated power of the fucking sun. 

So he gets his hands under himself, weakened arms trying their damnedest to force him to his feet. Phil takes a moment, leaning against a strong, tall tree that was luckily rooted right beside its fallen brethren. 

The last time he had put anything in his stomach was yesterday (?) morning before they had been so rudely interrupted by the 141 boys knocking on their—or, really, not theirs at all—front door. And after an afternoon like that, all his energy was beyond drained. It's a surprise Phil was still standing—not that he was exactly doing a very good job at that—, though, to be fair, he wasn't new to going lengths of time without proper sustenance. It was a byproduct of the job, of the life he led, after all.

Phil can't do anything to rectify his current hunger right now, so he has no choice other than start getting some miles between himself and the wrecked base next door.

Signing, he looks down, spotting a small dagger lodged into the tree he'd been resting against before. Huh, at least you hadn't left him completely defenseless. 

Knife secured in his boot, Phil begins the long trek to who knows where. It's not like he could just make his way back to company HQ, now could he? Not when it was so damn clear he was an unwanted face there. 

The chipped watch on his wrist reads o-five-hundred, giving him about an hour until sunrise. Phil has already made pretty good progress, if he did say so himself. And the Vaqueros base has long since faded from his view; leaving Phil to now wander aimlessly through the harsh Mexican terrain; traversing over dry, crumbling rocks through a sparse forest, avoiding sudden drop offs and twisted roots on wobbly legs. 

Phil had detoured around the broken city of Las Almas, a certain brand of discomfort crawling up his spine and settling heavy across his shoulders at the mere thought of passing through the ruined city. The barest glimpses of it he'd gotten bore the harsh reality of cobblestone roads still bathed in watery crimson, the familiar color splattered over everything within reach; streaked over stone walls and staining the clothes of bodies still laying cold, face-down in the streets. 

One look at the carnage left behind and he'd nearly doubled over from the sheer force of the sudden churning of his stomach. Expelling the bile building at the back of his throat would only end in the burning of his esophagus from his empty, acid-filled belly. There were likely valuable resources left behind in the town, something to aid him in his solo travels, but he quickly dismissed the idea at the sight.

He'd rather skip this city and continue to walk with nothing to his name but the clothes on his body and the knife in his boot then be forced to face that massacre. 

Phil hopes, come morning, the very same people he'd stabbed in the back take the time to ghost over the town and dispose of the mess he'd left behind. To reap the souls of those innocent civilians and treat their bodies with much kinder hands than his own Shadows had. 

Phil was really getting tired of waking up to people dragging his ass around. 

Well, judging by the way, at least this time around, there were no sharp rocks digging into his spine and the fact that this ride was.. quite bumpy, it appeared Phil was being carried this time. What an improvement. 

And while he should probably be very concerned as to who, or what, exactly, is carrying him from point A—aka, where he'd likely had passed out again—to point B, the man can't bring himself to care. He doesn't have the energy for it.

Instead, he's in a bit of a daze. Wondering how in the everloving fuck this damn country jumped from near freezing in the night, to scorching hot temperatures that could rival the damn devil. All Phil remembers leading up to this is him cursing the damn sun with his whole chest, feeling like his freaking skin was melting off, then somehow finding himself face-down in the goddamn sand—when had he made it into the damn desert??

And now he was here. 

Being carried to God knows where, still sweating profusely under his clothes—how his body still had the capability to sweat when he was already so dehydrated, was beyond him—and too tired to do anything more than lay there. 

Phil must've drifted off again at some point, because when he wakes again he's no longer moving. Instead he's flat out on his back, a hard surface beneath him not unlike the old bunks he'd slept on when he was a newbie, and his entire body feels like one giant ass bruise. An all encompassing ache that traveled from the base of his skull to the tips of his toes—as if, now that he was finally resting, his entire body had collectively agreed to seek revenge on his overused muscles.

Distantly, he can hear the chatter of a man and a woman speaking in hushed voices, muttered Spanish drifting from somewhere to his left. 

Every instinct that had been ingrained into him screams at Phil to launch himself up and either attack or make a run for it. He does neither, too exhausted to even move or open his eyes, much less to try and stand. 

He ends up dancing on the fine line between consciousness and slumber while the two strangers talk, presumably, about him. Lingering in that peculiar space where you're not quite awake, but you're not sleeping either; able to hear and feel, but not aware enough to get up and move. 

Phil chose to use that time to attempt to listen in, see what all, if any, of the words he could catch. He wasn't going to pretend to know more than he did, as Phil really only knew the more simple Spanish phrases from his time in highschool when it was a required course. He picks up the usual filler words, a few pronouns, something that sounds much like ‘the American’, and the suppressed voices briefly increasing in volume, rushed, before quieting. Then silence.  

With nothing to stimulate his brain, Phil once again falls into a fitful rest. 

Power? Is that what this had been about? In all the years Phil has known you, he never would've thought of you as the type. But could that have been what you were after the entire time? And all these years you were just biding your time, waiting for the best time to strike. 

How could he have been so blind, how did he not see this coming? The person closest to him, a man who knew more about Phil than any single other person to exist. He should've seen this miles away before it hit him like a fucking freight train.

This is why you had to turn on others before they had the chance to flip the blade on you first—a lesson Phil had learned oh-so long ago. After all this time, how the hell had he forgotten that?

Which is why, the second Phil has the capacity to, he bolts upright and does his best to regain his bearings. A little dizzy, body shaky, limbs trembling from a lack of nutrients, but no longer in the fetal position at least. As aware as he physically can be. 

Somewhere between blinking away the blur obscuring his vision and forcing himself into a fully seated position, Phil hears the two voices again

Faint at first. Then growing louder. Closer. 

Phil's eyes, still unfocused, dart around his surroundings.

A room. Closed off with only one door, and a window too small for his body. Below him is some sort of flimsy cot placed in the corner furthest from the exit, one that's metal frame squeals with the slightest movements.

Getting distinct now, one woman and one man, just as before. 

Phil's hand shoots down, patting his boot; heart rate skyrocketing when the man realizes the knife is missing. His crutch, the only thing he'd possessed to defend himself beyond his own bare hands. It was gone.

They'd taken it from him. 

Closer, closer, closer still. The door opens, hinges creaking as a tall, heavy set man walks in; black, cropped hair and a well kept mustache are the first things he notes. And Phil can immediately tell that, even if he were standing, there's no way this guy wouldn't tower over him. 

That is a problem. Not because Phil hasn't taken on much large men than himself, but because he usually managed such a feat when fully put together and decidedly not when half-starved, dehydrated, and barely conscious. 

While the man approaches Phil with a certain air of caution, the woman, on the other hand, stays behind. Leaning against the doorframe, watching.

But not afraid, no, there's nothing to hint at fear in her intense gaze. Long, dark hair pulled up and tied in loose updo, arms crossed tight over her chest, and mouth set into a firm line. And still she appears to be more curious, or concerned, than fearful; perhaps a bit heedful, but that's as far as it goes.

The man, surprisingly, seemed much more on guard than his counterpart. To be fair, and give the poor guy some credit, he was the one tasked with coming closer to Phil. And Phil, in all honesty, was not of the.. low-risk variety. 

Not that the two would know that, all identifying parts of his uniform were either torn or stained, but it's always safer to be wary of strangers. And given Phil's appearance—dirtied, bloody, and cowering like a caged animal ready to strike at any given moment—he obviously wasn't just some random guy who they'd stumbled upon.

Come to think of it, Phil wondered what they thought had happened to him, or why he was out there—wherever he was when they found him—in the first place. 

Beyond that, who were these people? Why did they bring him here, why not just leave him, a complete stranger and possible danger, where they'd found him instead of risking their lives carrying Phil to their home? At least they'd been smart enough to check him for weapons, for their sake.

Which begs the question; were these people just plain stupid, or did they trust enough in their own abilities to put him down if need be?

“So,” the man begins, now within a few feet of where Phil sits. Spine straight, chin lifted, and arms crossed much like his partner; posture firm, aiming to appear confident. “You military?”

Oh, what could have possibly given that away?

“Sorta.” Comes Phil's stilted reply. 

To Phil's great unsettlement, the man smiles. Only a tiny thing, a barely twitch at the corner of his mouth before it's gone. 

“Where am I?”

The man hesitates, and the woman chimes in with a few uttered words of Spanish again. 

“Not too far from the border, a few hours most.” when Phil doesn't respond, the man continues. “Name's Eric and this,” he tips his head slightly in the woman's direction. “Is my wife, Sofia. We have.. decided to help you back onto your feet.”

Another murmur, then Eric corrects with an, “if you want.” 

Lovely. Now it didn't sound as much like he was being held hostage.

“Y'all want to.. help me?” Phil asks, skeptical as he flicks his gaze between the two. Trying to decipher any double meaning, any sort of threat veiled under these too-good-to-be-true words. “...And why would you do that?” 

“My wife was a field medic, and me a soldier,” he begins. “We know what a person looks like wounded.. not only physically.” 

Oh, so they wanted to be some sort of great savior or some shit? Give Phil some weird form of therapy? He didn't need that, he didn't need anyone's pity. Especially not these strangers who knew absolutely nothing about him.

Eric must sense something off about him, because he immediately rushes to continue. “Like it or not, we are your best option. You go out there? Try to get home in the state you are in? You will die before the sun sets.” 

Phil wasn't quite sure he'd be opposed to that.. but the man had a point. He couldn't seek his revenge if he were dead, now could he?

“I won't stay long.” Phil asserts, sitting up a bit straighter with a challenging glint in his eye. 

“Of course not,” Eric agrees easily. “Just until you are better. Maybe a few days, yes?”

Phil shouldn't, he should get up, tell these people to go fuck themselves, and get as far away as he possibly can. Even if that means, come morning, he’ll have succumbed to the elements- “Okay.” 

“Okay.” Eric offers a smile and Phil isn't quite in his right mind, but he swears that man, this complete stranger, has some of the kindest eyes he's ever seen.

A few days turns into a month, and a single month becomes four. Phil learns a lot about the couple he's been staying with. 

Learns that Eric was telling the truth and that they both had met in the field; apparently the man had been outright refusing treatment so that his fellow soldiers could get it first, claiming it to be nothing more than a light scrap. According to Sofia—from what little Phil could gather with the language barrier; though narrowed eyes and flailing hands are pretty damn telling no matter the language, Phil supposed—it was most likely a lot worse than Eric let on. 

Only when Eric had conceded and pulled down the collar of his shirt to expose the long, jagged scar that began at just below his collar bones then traveled further, larger than the tugged down fabric could show, did Sophia give a satisfied hum. And Phil could tell from the gentle way she looked at Eric as he spoke, this woman wholeheartedly adored that man—he had to look away after a moment, feeling out of place, like Phil was intruding on something not meant for his eyes.

Phil also learns that the couple is very active in their little community, often volunteering for social events and making whatever donations they could to the local church, and more specifically the program involved directly in helping children in need. 

The two had discovered many years ago, after they left the service, that neither were capable of having children. And while it did put a strain on their relationship for some time, the couple loved each other too much to let that fact tear them apart. Instead, they dedicated their time and whatever leftover funds they had into helping provide for the few orphaned kids in the area. 

They even had some adopted children of their own, ones now grown and dispersed around the country; attending college and creating families of their own.

At some point, Phil had been baffled by how utterly good these people were, he couldn't believe how lucky he had been to be found by such genuinely kind people, ones who knew nothing of him or his crimes. They would hate him, surely, either cast him aside or turn him in to local authorities. Who would then hand him over to federal. 

He was a criminal on the run, something that had taken Phil a while to come to terms with. 

A thing he had realized on the very same porch steps he was setting on right now in month two. Eyes on the horizon as the hot, late spring sun faded in an array of nostalgic warm tones of red and orange, of yellow and pink. Dressed in clothing a few sizes too big; the ones he'd donned when he had arrived far beyond salvageable.

A small, child sized soccer ball rolls to his feet. Bumping against the toe of his boot, quickly followed by little feet stomping over to where Phil sat. Picking it up, Phil cradled the ball in his palm, offering it to the boy running over to him with a soft smile.

One of the orphaned kids; has a sister only a year younger than himself, something Phil knows not because the couple told him, but because he'd started doing some volunteer work himself—with Eric and Sophia’s encouragement. It helped keep his mind wonderfully empty, able to concentrate on the now rather than past or inevitable future. 

It also helped remind Phil why he'd even joined the military in the first place, what his younger self had aspired to be all those years ago. 

Phil had been able to reflect on a lot over these past seven months. Given the opportunity to think on why he did what he did, who he wanted to be. And, most importantly, you. 

After months upon months of denial, cursing your name before he went to bed each night. Reminded of you by the absence of a warm body curled up behind his own; the lack of a soft, rumbling voice murmuring a sleepy goodnight before you'd fall asleep with your face tucked away in the place between Phil's neck and shoulder. The gentle puffs of your breath ghosting over his skin and the secure weight of an arm draped over his waist, luring him to join you in the depths of dream land. 

Always making him feel so warm, so safe, in that perfect in between, just after the sun set and right before it rose again. For a few hours you were his. For a few fleeting hours he had you all to himself; he had someone. 

Someone more than the names of all the men he'd killed, ingrained permanently in his psyche no matter how hard he tried to ignore it; something more than a pen and himself up against stack after stack of paperwork containing nothing but political bullshit Phil couldn't care less about.

For that brief time Phil had belonged. 

But now.. now he had nothing. 

He wasn't a commander here, wasn't a soldier. Phil didn't have the responsibilities he'd had to manage back home at base anymore. He should probably be grateful, it was a stressful life.

But.. but he still wasn't quite.. anybody. He was nothing but the stranger who'd appeared in town out of nowhere. Who was silent and kept to himself, who barely even left the residence he'd been so lucky to be offered a place in. Not unless he was doing some volunteer work here and there.

He had nothing; he was nothing. Phil used to hold the reins of dozens who'd act solely with his interests at heart, and now he didn't even have an army to command. He wasn't anyone anymore. Not here.

At least, if he went back, he'd have something. Something more than this endless repetition of kindness he didn't deserve. You'd hate him, surely, after what he had done. 

To you, to your friends, family, fellow soldiers. Phil was supposed to be a leader, someone who those under his command looked to for guidance. Someone dependable, someone trustworthy.

It was, again, sometime ago on these same steps, where Phil had the grand revelation that maybe, just maybe, you hadn't betrayed him. You were just doing what you thought was best for yourself and the rest of the company. It was in everyone's best interest—except his. 

Phil had pushed you too far, stretched you too thin. Even though he knew how fragile delicate vulnerable-

Even though he knew damn well how you used to be, the cavernous depths of your own mind Phil had single-handedly had to drag you out of kicking and screaming several times over. 

Phil knew all of this, and yet he still did it. Never considered the consequences his actions would have on you—or the others, but you were more important—, never stopped to consider your own feelings on, well, anything. On what your opinions were for improving the company—even though you two had built it up from the ground up, together—, or what applications to accept, or whatever it was that you two had going on that was surely more than friends and co-founders did with each other.

He'd pushed and pushed and pushed- and Phil had broken you. 

Snapped you in two. 

So, at the very least, if he went back, Phil would have someone to hate him. Anything from you was better than being nothing. Even if it were hatred; he just needed to be someone again.

Just needed to belong.

“You can't stay here.”

Phil turns his head slowly, the sun now barely a sliver as darkness overtakes the sky. Stars begin to join the moon in illuminating the town.

“I'm sorry?” He asks, spotting Eric standing on the porch behind him. A somber sort of expression painting his features. 

Eric sighs, rocking on his feet briefly as his hands move to tuck into his pockets, seeking warmth as the lack of sunlight drops the temperature by several dozen degrees. 

“I don't mean- I am not kicking you out,” the man clarifies, looking off into the distance. A bittersweet smile gracing his lips. “But you are not happy here, are you?”

It's a rhetorical question, and Phil, too, turns away, looking back towards the sky, mouth pressed into a thin line. The sun had disappeared completely, and Phil instead looked to the moon.

Now a completely different phase from that fateful day where you'd abandoned left him against that log. So long ago, and yet Phil swore he could still smell the smoke burning his nostrils and scorching his throat. 

He was lucky to have not borne many scars from being trapped in that tank; he didn't want to know how you'd fared.

“You miss them.”

“What?” The words break Phil out of his trance, brows furrowing, but he doesn't turn back around.

“I don't know if it is a family or something else,” Eric continues. “But you miss them. This is not the life for you; you still carry that.. spirit I only remember having during my time in the army.”

“I can't go back.” 

“Because you think they will not take you?” 

“I,” Phil barks a hushed, humorless laugh. More of an exhale of air than everything, bitter and leaving a foul taste on his tongue. “I do not belong with them anymore, sir. They don't want me, I can promise you that.” 

“So grown,” Eric chides, coming to sit on the same step Phil was on. “And yet still so damn naive.” 

It's not cruel, but it does have Phil opening his mouth in protest, only to snap it back shut again with a huff.  

“You don't know what you're talking about.” He grits out, mouth forming a small pout, an ache of something opening up in his ribcage. A void, once full, overflowing, almost, but now so, so empty. Starving.

“Did you even consider, maybe,” Eric continues on with the same patience he'd had all those months ago. “..they miss you, too?”

Phil swears his heart stops just then, slow, stuttering to a halt before ba dum.. ba dum.. it gradually starts back up again. A frog leaped, lodging itself in his throat, suffocating him, echoing the beat of his heart. 

Eventually, he manages to croak out, “They don't.” 

“And how can you be so sure?” 

And Phil doesn't have anything to say to that, so he doesn't. Continuing to gaze up at the moon as if it held all the answers to his problems. Wondering if, maybe, you were looking up at it too.

“I will not pretend to know what you are going through,” Eric hesitates. “What you are running from. But.. but you cannot stay here, it's killing you. Sophia and I can both see it.” 

“With all due respect, sir,” Phil forces out. “you don't understand. He is stubborn, he is childish, and he is- he was. You wouldn't understand.”

“You are talking about this man like he's dead,” observant, are we? “And yet he is not, is he?”

You may as well be. “No.”

“Then maybe it's not too late.. maybe..”

Phil could feel hope sparking in his chest at the man's words, and he immediately crushed it between his fists. 

“It is.” Phil says, swallowing against the lump in his throat. “It is too late.”

A sigh. “But you're right. I can't stay.” 

The distant sound of a coyotes’ howl and the rustling of leaves fills the space between them as the conversation lulls to a stop. It's peaceful out here, much more so than any base Phil's stayed on, and even before that, far quieter than a house full of gentle chatter wafting in from the living room, or the sounds of childish glee from his sister's bedroom when she had a few friends over. Drifting down through thin but sturdy walls; both a perfect ambiance to listen to while he did his homework at the dining table. 

Nothing compared to the heartwarming sound of your laughter. Of your soft, rumbling voice; always so quiet, even when just chatting in his office or while overseeing the Shadows honing their skills in the courtyard. 

Quieter than his family, but louder than the silence between you two when you would give him the cold shoulder; a sea of rage hidden neatly within a show of blank stares and empty words.  

He misses you. 

You didn't do anything wrong. 

Why did he break you? When did he break you?

Was it just the incident all those months ago? When he'd forced you to shoot down people who, just the day before, Phil had told you to treat like family? Like brothers?

Or was it something far before that? Something you had been holding on to all this time; keeping caged within your heart instead of taking it out in him. 

He wishes you had taken it out on him. Maybe then he wouldn't be considered KIA by his own people, men and women and all alike, whom he—and you—had practically raised as his own?

Anyone who tried to proclaim that Phillip Graves didn't care about his soldiers, his Shadows, was just flat out wrong. A piece of his heart, of his soul, had been ripped out of him when one of his squads died in that botched mission Shepard had sent them on. Ambushed by Russian PMCs. Now that had been one very dreaded set of paperwork; writing down the names and cause of deaths for people who he knew, his friends. 

He hadn't even been able to tell their families what had happened to them when they came knocking on his door. No closure for any of those grieving relatives, phone calls day and night. Endless sobs and askings of why, why can't you? And my baby gave their life for your cause, but you can't even do me the honor of explaining why they're buried halfway across the world instead of with their family? 

“Where will you go?” Phil had been so lost in thought, he'd entirely forgotten Eric was still beside him. Five months ago and that would've never even been a possibility.

He was losing his touch. Would he even be useful back home? 

After all these months, surely not.

When the silence drags on a little too long to be comfortable, Phil murmurs a delicate, “I don't know..” then, “maybe I'll go back after all.” 

Phil does, in fact, not go back. 

Instead he finds himself staying at an apartment complex just a few cities away. Like a coward. 

Phil had left that night, before the sun rose again, and without saying goodbye to the couple who'd let him stay with them for a little over four months. He's only left a little note as thanks.

Also, like a coward. 

But Phil decided to embrace this sort of cowardice, at least for now. It's not that he couldn't just go over to the ol’ base, pop in and say hello to the people whose lives he had ruined- of course he could! 

He could do it right now if he wanted. He didn't want to. 

Phil could just pack up his shit—it had been fairly easy to retrieve his emergency fund, held in one of the many banks he had an account or two with; for security, of course—and skip over to that familiar town, take a few turns down some back roads and bam! Back home he would be.

Back home.

…

..would it still be home?

What if his Shadows hated him now? What if you'd turned them against him? Couldn't even stand the sight of him? Would they kill him then and there upon first sight? 

Or would they detain him, torture him maybe?

Either way, Phil couldn't risk it. It's been a few weeks since he left Sophia and Eric's residence, and he's no more motivated to go back to you his old stomping grounds today than he was all those months ago. 

He can't imagine which would be worse; seeing that look of disgust, of simmering hatred in the Shadows’ eyes or your own. 

Phil tries to keep his mind blissfully blank every moment of his waking hours. Preferring more to spend his time sleeping, but when he could not do so anymore, when his legs ached with the need to move and his stomach rioted in the name of it's hunger, he would have to get up. 

Reading, listening to a radio, sometimes even adding the background noise of the old TV in the corner of the living room whenever Phil needed to complete a simple task such as eating or another. 

As of right now, he was doing just that. Only this time.. this time it doesn't work. Swirling around the remaining bits of cereal in the now sweetened milk, gaze drifting up from the little floating pieces to the window before him instead. 

Thinking. Thinking of you. Because there wasn't any time where Phil wasn't thinking of you. Even with all these distracts, meant to keep his mind off his old life, off what he used to have, off you.

It didn't work. Not when it came to you. 

Wondering what you could be up to right now. How you were faring commanding an entire army of your own—or however many were left—, how you were handling all the politics that came with such a job.

When you two shared ownership, Phil was always the one to handle the people, scheduling meetings and dealing with generals and such.

It's been months, surely you were handling this fine on your own. You didn't need him, there was no reason for Phil to go back. Nothing more than his own selfish reasons. 

A little over ten months now, it has been. Phil shouldn't bother you. You were dealing with it perfectly fine, he'd bet. 

There was not a single excuse for him to assume you didn't have everything under control, for him to swoop in like some sort of savior. 

Sure, you'd always been a bit.. off kilter. But who wasn't in this line of work.. right? It was only to he expected after what you had been through, or what little you had told Phil.

He knew you didn't like crowds, didn't even like talking for that matter, hated interacting with the stuck up higher ups most of all, of course. Everyone did. But Phil knew you could also reign yourself in if need be.

Well, that was unless something threw you off center. It would have to be something huge, something life-changing for you to really-

Oh, fuck.

The metallic crash of his spoon bouncing off the ceramic bowl and clattering against the floor doesn't even register in Phil's mind. Not even the sweet milk that goes splattering everywhere pulls him away.

He'd broken you. He'd left you alone. Left you alone with her.

Fuck staying here, lying to himself and avoiding any and all subjects that reminded him of you. Reminded him of what he had lost.

Maybe if the event almost a year ago had never happened, and even if Phil had still been removed from your day to day, it wouldn't have been a possibility.

But you were broken. Shattered. Vulnerable. 

And for someone like you; that was a concoction that spelled nothing but bad decisions.

Phil left a few hours later. A single stuffed backpack and a rental car all he took with him in his haste. 

He hoped he wasn't too late. Hoped he hadn't broken you too much.

Maybe you were able to resist her offer.. maybe there was still a part of you left that knew it would bring nothing but your own destruction.

Maybe.

Standing before you now, with those empty eyes and stiff posture, Phil knew something was off. More than he had assumed before. Sure, he knew you were a bit fucked, had always been a bit fractured, but Phil had cared for you all the same. Knew there was something more to you beyond that rough, off-putting exterior.

But now, the way you covered yourself head to toe, the little twitches and fidgets you tried so hard to conceal—but Phil had been able to identify them then, and he still could now—, now it was obvious. There was no hiding it.

“You're..” Phil begins, hesitant. “Different.” 

You scoff, something in those clouded depths flickering. “You've said that before.”

“No, no, Phantom-” he winces, noting the way the name has your right hand—concealed in a glaringly different glove than the other—twitches, fingers curling slightly in one, quick movement, at the name. Your head ticking a bit to the left. 

“You are.. not yourself.” 

“Is that all you had to say?” You grit out, gaze narrowed, voice more a growl than the gentle rumble Phil was used to. “You called me down ‘ere again to tell me I'm “different”. As if it hasn't been almost an entire fucking year since you last saw me.” 

A step closer, another fidget. “People change, Graves. Just because you can't, too caught up in your own damn ego to care, doesn't mean others don't.” 

Phil can think back on that little insult later, pick another time to lick his wounds. Right now he needed to know. Needed a confirmation.

“Just tell me-” he doesn't care if he sounds like he's begging. He needs to know. “You told her no. Please, for Christ's sake, tell me you said no.”

Phil can hear the way your breathing hitches briefly, see the way you try to shift your posture impossibly straighter. “I don't know who you are referring to.” 

A part of Phil shrivels up and dies in that moment, frozen in time as you basically confirm what he already knew. What he knew and yet so desperately hoped he was wrong about. Hoped and prayed you'd be strong enough.

He was wrong.

“Oh, Phantom,” He breathes, right when his body kicks back into motion again. Unable to hide the pure, unfiltered grief in his croaked out words. “What.. what have you done?” 

Phil never gets to hear your reply, because right then there's a frantic knocking at the door. Panicked or enthused, Phil cannot decipher. 

It catches you both off guard, heads snapping to the person who hurts through the entrance. Not bothering to wait for an okay to come inside.

“Alik? What the fuck are you doing here?” You snap, glaring at the newcomer. 

1-5 comes to a halt right in front of you, breathing heavily from the exerting of running from wherever the hell he'd come from. Phil feels himself stiffening, waiting for something, anything to happen.

“Sorry, sir,” Alik pants. “But this couldn't wait.”

“Spit it out.” Phil cuts in, seeing how you tense and ready to go on one of your rare—or maybe not rare anymore—tangents. 

1-5 barely spares Phil a glance before locking eyes with you once more, unflinching.

“Viper,” he says, chest still heaving. A single word, a single word that bore so much weight within its five letters. “He is awake.”

__

Masterpost | One | Two | Three | Four | Next

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#this man is so in love w reader its unreal #wasnt my intent in the beginning #but it wrote itself #call of duty #cod x male reader #male reader #call of duty x male reader #call of duty x reader #reader insert #gay #phillip graves x male reader #graves x male reader #phillip graves

[sherlock-is-ace]

.

#i was so happy today... #i got up so excited because it's sherlock & co day #because i get to listen to it while i work #when i finishe actual work i get to draw some cool fanart i'm planning #it was all so fucking great #and not even 3 hours later i'm sitting here with tears in my eyes and pain in my chest... #remind me to never discuss my mental health with my mother never fucking again #i forgot about her WONDERFUL take of ''everyone is a little bit autistic'' #and her AMAZING ''people shouldn't give name to the way people is'' (aka sexuality and how the brain works (aka being gay or being autistic #it's insane to think i come from this woman #now her FANTASTIC take that autism and adhd are diseases or illnesses #i just want to die #how the fuck could i ever possibly talk to this woman about my feelings or thoughts when this is what i'm up against #and yeah sure you could say ''educate her'' i can't! Everything i say #based on fact or sience or research or anything gets met with ''well that's your opinion. my opinion is the opposite'' #and i never get to drill it into her brain that her OPINION doesn't fucking matter when there are FACTS! #she's the embodiment of the ''that's my oPiNiOn'' vine #and i fucking hate it here!!! #and maybe its true that people who say ''we're all a little bit autistic'' is because they actually ARE autistic. maybe that's true #but i fear she'll never believe it the same way she doesn't fucking believe ME #i hate this #i want to fucking die and never have to speak to another human ever again #fuck working happily while listening to sherlock & co am i right? #angel talks #personal

[evie-sturns]

ᴀᴛᴛᴇɴᴛɪᴏɴ - ᴍᴀᴛᴛ ꜱᴛᴜʀɴɪᴏʟᴏ

summary: matts been so busy with his filming schedule, that when he comes home you're basically begging for his touch for almost an hour, he finally gives in.

contains: smut, fingering, needy reader, softdom!Matt, swearing, small argument, crying.

--------------------└── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──┘----------———

matt and I have been dating for almost a year, and in the past few months, he's been so busy to the point where I've just been hanging out at his house during the day, today is one of those days. I've been touch-deprived bed rotting in Matt's room.

the front door unlocks with a bang from downstairs, i sit up in matts bed, the blankets slowly falling off my chest. "matt!?" i call out, rubbing my face.

"hey baby", matt says while walking into the room, his voice is low and croaky. he doesnt even look my way as he slumps down on his desk chair.

he throws on his headphones, instantly starting to edit the Wednesday video.

"for fucks sake." i groan quietly, throwing my head back down into the pillows.

"matt." i whine, he looks over his shoulder at me "mm?" he says, his long fingers resting on the keyboard.

"i need you.." i say, maintaining eye contact with him.

he nods, turning back around to his computer, starting to edit again.

its not even been 10 minutes before my mouth is opening again.

"matthew."

"sweetheart what is it."he says, pulling his headphones off and spinning his chair back around to face the bed.

i pout my lips, "please come here, you can edit tommorow."

"i told you it'll be a while, i know your upset but this is very important." he says in a tone that reminds me of my childhood, hes acting like my dad.

"so more important than me then hm?" i roll my eyes.

"don't be silly." he replies.

-

45 minutes later

11:29pm

i've been laying in matts sheet for almost an hour while hes been editing, hes stopped replying to me everytime i say his name now.

i let out a dramatic sigh, which of course matt pays no attention to.

"for fucks sake matt!" i raise my voice, sitting up in bed.

"what. literally what." he says, slamming his headphones down into the desk.

"look, should i even be here? should i even be with you? you've quite literally payed no attention to me for like 3 months?! am i just a fuck toy now or what."

his eyes widen "oh please." he scoffs in disbelief, he head shaking in shock.

i stay silent, i need to have a proper conversation with him for once.

he powers off his computer before standing up abrubtly. he almost stomps over to the bed before laying down next to me. "happy?" he asks, his voice monotone.

"no, im fucking not matt." i say, my voice breaking followed by a sob.

i see matts head snap round to look at me, his eyes squinting.

"are you crying- shit.. wait."

i hide my face in my hands while matt sits up, he lets out a shaky breath.

"oh fuck no please don't cry" he says, placing a hand on the side of my face. "look at me, look at me y/n." matt says sternly.

i slowly peel my hands away from my face, tears now streaming down my cheeks. matts face is painted with guilt and concern.

"sit up." he says, which i do.

he grabs both sides of my face

"i love you so fucking much, you know that." matt says softly, staring into my eyes.

i shake my head "i'm not sure i know that anymore." i sniff.

matts jaw drops slightly, a silence filling the room.

"no, no nope. please don't ever say that." he starts.

"i am insanely grateful for you, work has been piling up like crazy and i know, i know i haven't had time for other people but once i get my yesterday's problem launched everything will be calm."

i hear the front door open from downstairs, chris and nicks chatter getting louder as they walk upstairs, but matt doesn't even bat an eye as he keeps rambling on.

"you're my favorite person ever, and i know i've been a proper dick these past weeks, but tommorow i have a day off, and if you would want we could go out, or-.. just lay here the whole day i really dont mind."

i wipe my eyes, leaning foward and grabbing matts jaw, pulling him into a passionate kiss.

we both pull away to catch our breath "can i do anything for you right now? to make you feel better.." matt says gentley, playing with my hair.

i nod, "just one thing.."

he nods, "yeah?" he smiles sweetly at me.

"i don't wanna say itt.." i say, my cheeks turning red

he lets out a small laugh, “it can’t be that bad"

i grab his hand, rings decorating his pinky finger, his pointer and his thumb.

i push down all of his fingers execpt for two, the ring finger and middle finger.

matt nods understandingly “yeah?”

“yeah..” i say back.

“you’ve got to tell me with your words gorgeous.”

“i need your fingers.” i reply

“where do you need them?” he teases back.

“in.. me?”

“there you go.” matt says, a smile spread across his face.

i lay back down in the sheets, peeling my shirt off my body. matt lays down too, “can you lay on your side for me?” he says, which i do.

he turns onto his side aswell, grabbing my waist and pulling me towards his body, my bare back pressed against the soft fabric of his shirt covering his torso.

he spoons me as his hand, which is decorated in rings, snakes round to the waist band of my pyjama shorts.

i feel his chest rise and fall against my back as his hand slowly pulls down the shorts to my knees.

matt traces random shapes up the inside of my thigh, slowly getting towards where i need him most.

a pathetic moan escapes my mouth as the cold metal of his ring grazes past my hole.

i haven’t been touched in so long that the smallest touch is embarrassingly driving me crazy.

“please.” i groan out, earning a small chuckle from matt into the back of my hair.

i look down at matts hand, which is resting on my pelvic bone.

"matt please-" i start but he cuts me off "i know, can you be nice and quiet for me? chris and nick are across the hall."

i nod "yes- yeah" i instantly reply.

his two fingers dip down to my clit, he rubs it slowly, barely applying pressure.

his elbow rests on my hip as his fingers pick up the pace, i feel matts breaths from behind me as i reverse back into him more, my back and ass fully pressed against matts chest and crotch.

i feel one of his fingers push against my entrance before he presses fully inside of me, his long finger filling me up. "fuck.." i say softly.

the feeling from matt ive been craving all day is turning me into a moaning mess.

he quickly adds his second finger, curling both of them inside of me. i grip the bedsheets in front of me as he repeatedly hits my g-spot.

i slam a hand over my mouth as i feel the knot in my stomach build up.

the fact i have to be quiet is making this 10 times hotter due to the fact matt usually lets me be as loud as i need to be, which is always loud.

"god 'feel so good around my fingers." matt says, his voice hoarse from behind me.

that'll do it

the knot in my stomach snaps, my hand thats on my mouth falls down into the mattress, gripping the sheets, "fuck matt oh my god!" i scream out, clenching around his fingers.

i feel matts breaths hitch against my back, he instantly pulls his fingers out of me and covers my mouth. "shh, shush" he laughs slightly.

i catch my breath slowly as matts hands keep on my mouth.

i roll over onto my back, matts still laying on his side.

"gross" i smile, "oh shit- yeah." matt says, taking the hand which was just inside me off my mouth.

i cuddle up next to him "thank you" i whisper as i pull up the blankets.

"no- no thank you for forgiving me" he says, rubbing my arms softly.

my eyelids feel heavy, somehow tired after doing nothing all day. matts tense underneath me, i assume hes just mad at himself about earlier but then the realization hits me that hes just fingered me for a few minutes without getting anything back.

"matt" i say, sitting up and pulling the blankets down. "what?" matt says, running a hand through his hair.

i point to his sweatpants, that have a very obvious tent.

"you're hard! why didn't you tell me i could've helped?" i say, reaching for his waistband.

matt grabs my wrist, stopping me "no- no its okay, i don't want you to have to do anything for me after i've been shitty to you."

"thats gotta hurt matt cmon, its okay." i laugh slightly, resisting matts grip on my wrist.

"no, no go to sleep sweetheart it'll go away in like 5 minutes." he says with a smile, pulling the blanket back up over us and playing with my hair.

i sigh "are you sure, i dont mind helping-" he cuts me off "im sure, get some rest."

-

10 minutes later.

i sit up in bed after hearing the bathroom door slam shut. matts no longer next to me.

my eyebrows scrunch as i stand up out of bed, stumbling over to the bedroom door and opening it.

i walk down the corrider to nicks room, i open it to find him fast asleep with chris on their beanbag.

i shut their door, walking over to the bathroom door.

i slowly push it open to find matt standing over the toilet, his eyes shut and head thrown back as he repetedy runs his ringed hand up and down his length quickly.

"oh-"

matts eyes open and his head swings round to look at me "what are you doing!" he says, frantically pulling up his sweatpants.

"im sorry im sorry!" i say, slamming the bathroom door shut.

i hear the water run before matt walks out of the bathroom only a few seconds later, his cheeks are a deep red and he has small droplets of sweat on his forehead.

he smiles at me awkwardly but i instantly grab his shoulders and spin him round.

"matthew go finish up in there, you've been hard for almost half an hour."

"o-okay yep thank you." he replies instantly, speed-walking back into the bathroom eagerly, slamming the door shut behind him.

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

#nick sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo #chris sturniolo #chris sturniolo x reader #sturniolo fanfic #matt sturniolo x reader #sturniolo smut #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo smut #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo imagine

[heartsfourdazai]

๋࣭ ⭑ bad period cramps. bsd x reader

gender: gender neutral

type: headcanons

characters: poe, ranpo, dazai, chuuya, atsushi, and akutagawa

warnings: unedited writing, cursing, ooc characters(?), misspelt words :(

๋࣭ ⭑ edgar allen poe 🖋

"oh, dear..." he whispered to himself.

there you were. clutching your stomach tight, your head thrown back on the large sofa cushions.

you were silenty sitting their, suffering. there were some fresh and dry tears falling down your face.

he watched your from afar, watching you taking deep breaths in and out.

he saw pills on the drawer and a un-plugged heating pad that has fallen of you stomach, he assumed you were using it from your stomach.

"y/n..dear?" he called out, your head turning toward him. he locked eyes with your glossy ones has he walked toward you from the door.

when he reached you and knealt down close to your head, karl jumped off his shoulder and jumped onto the arm of the couch and huddled in on himself.

before he could reach his hand over and rub your stomach, you grabbed his hand and placed it on your stomach.

he smiled softly and started to rub, "you told me you were fine..." he sighed sadly, his cheek leaning against the arm of the couch that your head pillow was resting on.

you whined at the pain again before smiling softly, "i'm sorry, dear...:

"do you need anything?" he asked, looking up at you as he waited for a response.

you shake your head, "you're all i need right now.."

๋࣭ ⭑ ranpo edogawa 🔍

"it hurts!"

"i know.."

"it's hurts so damn much!"

"i could only imagine..:

"ranpo!" you whined, leaning your head against the work desk you at in. ranpo was sitting on the table across from yours, you and him the only ones in the room.

it was only hour 3 of your full day shift at the agency and you already want to bury yourself six feet under.

the detective eyed you, sucking on his lolipop.

he squints his eyes, watching you clutch your stomach tight and moving side to side slowly.

"then why did you come to work today?" he asked, the lolipop still in his mouth.

you sighed, leaning your head up and rested it on your palm.

"because kunikida will literally have my head if i'm not in...but i don't want to tell him about my period cramps because their embbarssing!"

and your head was back on the desk.

ranpo dug a hand into his pockets on his pants pulled out another sucker. he hoped off the table with a 'hmft!' and waltzed toward your suffering body and tapped your head with the lolipop.

you looked up from the desk, "it always helps me when i'm in pain." he winked, handing it to you and circled around you.

before you could say anything, you felt him lift the chair up and pratically knock you off.

"ah! ranpo-?"

he shuts your mouth with his own sucker and smiled, "you go home and relax, i'll let kunikida know you left early."

"but..i can't just.."

"yup! yes you can, because i said you can! don't worry, i'll talk with kunikida.."

but talk he means just say you left because of period cramps

he kissed your lips and winked, "now go, i got this."

๋࣭ ⭑ osamu dazai 🩹

"awh~ is my belladonna on their period~?" dazai asked, kneeling down close to your face, which was smushed up against the pillow of your shared bed.

almost pratically making out with it, thats how close you were to it.

you groaned loudly into the pillow hearing your boyfriends words.

he watched you enter the apartment with your bag hugged against your stomach, and small tears dared to fall from the corner of your eyes.

without a word, you stomped into the bedroom and slammed the door. dazai smiled to himself, stirring the tea he held in his hand, hot and ready for you to drink. however...you never even noticed he was here.

that was, until he walked in the room a couple minutes later with two cups of tea for him and you.

he's stands up striaght, walking toward the door to switch off the light. with a click, the room turned dim, the only light was the evening sunlight and the screensaver on the TV that hung high above the ground.

"you do know...a hot bath could help~?" of course, he meant that in a way to calm you down and show you a bright side, however you could'nt help but blush slightly hearing it come out of his mouth like that.

he waited for you to reply, walking back toward you, however you said nothing and just shrugged.

he said nothing as well as he laid in bed with you, however he laid on his back while you lied on your stomach.

"don't put to much pressure on it." he said, talking about your stomach. "it's better to have something soft and light on it..."

he smiled as he watched you slowly turn on your side and cuddle into his side. he followed you, mirroring your actions and grabbed a pillow and gently placed it on your stomach and rubbed the top and back of your head.

sooner or later, you fell asleep...getting a good talking to from kunikida for sleeping in late the next morning.

๋࣭ ⭑ chuuya nakahara 🍷BESTFUCKINPARTNERPLZ-IWANTHHIM

"does it hurt that bad? chuuya asked softly, rubbing your stomach gently as you laid in between his legs. your back was resting against his chest, feeling his heart beat once, then twice...and so forth.

you whined softly, grabbing his wrists, following his hands as he rubbed your stomach.

he kissed your ear when he saw a tear fall from your eye and down your cheek.

"sshh.." he shushed your, his breath tickling your ear.

"it hurts!" you cried, resting your head on his shoulder. "it hurts fucking hurts.."

"i know..." he whispered, "i know, baby."

over an hour went by with your cramps literally killing you, and in the moment chuuya's been thinking of ways to help.

you've had period cramps before, and chuuya's been there for you when he's not at work or has a break, or as a day off!

he hates seeing you in pain. when your hurt, he's hurt 10x worse.

he leaned forward, you being forced to follow in his actions and watched him pull out a towel from the drawer.

"i can run you a warm bath? relaxing your muscles should help with your cramps." chuuya said, rubbing your stomach once again before kissing your temple.

"can we havce mcdonalds for dinner?" you looked up at him with pouty lips, your knees close to your chest.

he chuckled, "your a sucker for them fries, aren't you?"

he taps your butt, "now, go get changed! i'll get the bath ready."

before he could leave, once he stepped out of bed he kissed your lips real quick.

"i love you.."

"i love you, too..."

๋࣭ ⭑ atsushi nakajima 🐅

"do you really not need anything else, y/n? a heating pad? food? i can make you some chicken soup? how about more pads? tampons? i have trouble going to the store and grabbing you some-"

"atsushi!" you snapped, cudding closer to him and rubbing his arm as he held you like a baby in his lap.

he shuts up real quick, rubbing your sides and stomach gently to calm the pain.

"sorry...i just-" he sighed, kissing your cheek before talking again, "i hate seeing you in pain..."

you were quiet for a moment, resting your head to his chest near his heart, taking a breath in and out feeling the sharp pain in your abdomen again.

"i know baby, i'm sorry, i know your trying to help.." you whispered, feeling his chin move a little on your head.

atsushi leaned his back against the bedframe of your shared room and apartment.

"can i be honest?" you asked, and your boyfriend hummed in response, his eyes closed as he rubbed your stomach in a circle.

"having you here is much more then i need to feel better..."

you closed your eyes after saying this, your legs tangled up with atsushi's.

he blushed slightly hearing your words, however he smiled and kissed your temple, leaving his lips there for a little bit bfore putting his chin back on your head.

"i'm gald...i love you."

you smiled, eyes still closed, "i love you more.."

๋࣭ ⭑ akutagawa ryūnosuke 🩸

"i don't know how to hold you..." he spoke nothing but the truth.

he sat criss-cross on your bed while you were lying on his lap, your head basically in between his legs near his thighs.

he had his hands in the air, almost like he was meditating, which made you laugh despite the sudden pain in your stomach.

"just.." you took his hand and placed it on your head, moving it up and down for him.

he froze, feeling a blush creep up to his face but he covered it with his free hand, coughing and looking toward the open window of your apartment.

once you let go of his hand and rested them on your stomach, he rubbed his fingers into your hair and skull.

you smiled happily, melting to his touch.

he was quiet for a moment, listening to the sound of your breathing.

"i'm sorry...i don't know how to help you properly..." he confessed, feeling bad he can't do more for you.

you almost forgot to respond, feeling his other hand rest on your shoulder and gently rub it.

you scruched your shoulder up when he got close to your neck, and pulled away both hands in fear he may have hurt you.

"aku~..." you laughed, leaning up and pushing yourself closer to him, taking his hands and smiled, "you being here to at least try and help me is all i need from you."

he kissed your lips out of embbaressement and leaned his forehead to yours.

"i only wish i could help you more.."

you thought for a moment,

"pay for my takeout, take a bath with me, and you've done everything to help me!"

"anything!"

#๋࣭ ⭑ rue writes 🖋 #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs #bungou gay dogs #bsd #bsd x y/n #bsd x gender neutral reader #edgar allen poe #edgar allen poe x reader #poe x reader #ranpo edogawa #ranpo edogawa x reader #ranpo x reader #dazai osamu #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #osamu dazai x reader #chuuya nakahara #nakahara chuuya #chuuya x reader #atsushi nakajima #nakajima atsushi #atsushi nakajima x reader #atsushi x reader #akutagawa ryuunosuke #ryuunosuke akutagawa #bsd imagines #bsd headcanons

[ficnation]

Chapter 4: Bon Appétit

Series: “Eat Your Heart Out” Pairing: Hannibal Lecter x Female! Reader x Will Graham Word count: 4,6k+ Warnings: canon-typical warnings, 18+, SMUT A/n: I'm really putting off the inevitable here sksksksk. Enjoy and let me know your thoughts <3 Btw this is my first time writing explicit smut (unedited)

This is also another late piece to @the-slumberparty Bingo Card event (prompt: proposal) - > Events Masterlist

Main Masterlist || Hannibal Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

When Will comes home that night after promising you he’ll only be gone for a few hours, he’s doing anything in his power not to look you in the eyes. He kept his word, coming back exactly three hours and twenty-six minutes later. You stare at him, intrigued. You don’t understand why he’s acting this way, but your mind screams at you that it can’t be anything good—it’s right, like always.

“I resumed my therapy with Doctor Hannibal Lecter,” he informs you after a few minutes of uncomfortable silence. He still doesn’t look at you, as he takes off his jacket and boots.

“You did what?” You blink at him in confusion—utterly dumbfounded. The meaning of his words doesn’t even register in your brain. 

“I’m going to keep on seeing Hannibal,” Will repeats in the same monotonous voice.

It hits you like a train, and your stomach churns at the thought of them sitting across from each other, talking about emotions and Will’s life. Your expression turns to one of disapproval as the man expected.

“After everything he’s done, after everything he put you through, why would you do that?”

Will doesn’t respond right away, and you can tell he’s struggling with his words. “There are things I need to learn about myself,” he says finally. “About what it’s like to be me.”

You stare at him, burning invisible holes in his head, trying to decipher what is truly happening here. The guilt that emanates from his person, the fact that he still can’t meet your gaze—it’s more than suspicious. The realization hits you even harder than the fact he wants to be anywhere near Hannibal Lecter.

“Why are you lying to me?” you ask, voice on the verge of breaking. You hate yourself for ever thinking that he trusts you completely after all those years apart. The tears gathering in your eyes are more angry than sorrowful.

For a moment, Will goes silent. The silence is thick, full of tension as the two of you remain in your positions—you watching him, and him with his back turned to you.

Then, he closes his eyes tightly, as if fighting against a headache. He finally speaks, but only after turning slowly to face you. You immediately notice the pained expression on his face, the guilt that drips from his very skin.

“I have to keep seeing him.”

You go to protest again, but the sound of your voice cracks, and no words emerge. Will doesn’t wish to ever hear this noise from you again. It feels criminal—being the one who caused it. His heart breaks in a way it never did before—it stings like someone delivered it one thousand cuts.

You both remain silent for what feels like an eternity. Will doesn’t look away from you, and your eyes are locked on him, on that misery and pain staring right at you. No one moves, no one blinks, no one probably even breathes. Everything is still, except for your heart which aches even worse than it did before. The silence gets so thick you can almost feel it—touch it. For the life of you, you don’t want to be the one to break it.

You want to speak, beg, convince him to stop these mind games, to give you an explanation you could understand. But you choose to keep your mouth shut, slumping further into the cushions of the armchair. 

Will’s eyes don’t leave you. They remain fixed on you as if willing you to speak, to tell him something that would make all of this suddenly go away. Anything.

He wants you to read his mind, and understand his pleas, but you can’t— and even if you could, you wouldn’t. You don’t do anything, don’t even move a muscle and after a few moments of waiting, Will finally breaks the silence.

“I don’t want him to do this to anyone else,” he says. His words are soft and quiet, but they carry a weight that you feel in your chest.

“Yet you didn’t start with that. You chose to lie.” 

Will sighs. He looks exhausted as if you’ve been here asking him questions for hours, even though it’s been twenty minutes at most.

“I didn’t want you to stop me. There, I said it,” he says. “It was hard. Harder than anything I’ve ever done. Can you just cut me some slack over here?”

You don’t answer right away. You don’t know what to think or what to say about this whole situation. It seems absurd, and you have to remind yourself that you might’ve paused your story with Will Graham, but for him time has passed, things have changed.

You’re not proud of the words that leave you next. God, you wish you could just catch them in the air before they have a chance to reach his ears and put them back in your mouth.

“Change your fucking tone, Will.”

You’re shocked with your own words, but Will doesn’t seem annoyed or offended, not like most people would. He’s still staring at you, but you notice the slightest hint of amusement in his expression as if this new side of you intrigued him rather than annoyed him.

“You don’t like me speaking to you like that, my dear?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. He makes no attempts to sound serious—just enough to make you laugh, but his words carry weight. He’s genuinely curious.

Will Graham just called you “my dear” and your whole face warms up at this term of endearment as you observe him fall to one knee in front of your person.

“What are you doing?” you choke out, confused, butterflies fluttering wildly in your chest.

Will takes his time to reply, his eyes scanning you and your reactions. He seems to enjoy the sight of you flustered, barely keeping up with what’s happening right in front of your face. His heart skips a beat more than twice in the span of a few seconds.

“I’m proposing.”

The words seem so absurd that you half expect him to break the tension with a quick joke, but he doesn’t. His gaze is glued to you, his words as serious as they can be. You don’t know what to say, don’t know how to react. Your mind is frozen.

“What the fuck, Will?”

Will grins at that and shakes his head as if he’d expected your reaction to be no different. He keeps his stance, one knee on the floor, as he stares at you affectionately—with so much love you’re surprised he doesn’t explode from it. The man is enjoying your confusion and the fact that he managed to pull it out of you. He’s not ashamed to admit it, either.

“That’s the kind of reaction I was hoping for,” he says quietly and in a matter of time, his hand is on your thigh, tracing invisible circles on the soft fabric of your pajama pants. “You were always going to say no for the first time.”

You blink at him, trying to coax out words from within you, but you don’t find any. That only makes you even more confused, and your expression turns to a frown. Is he really… asking you to marry him?

“I know, I’m quite the romantic.” He pauses, trying to stifle his chuckle. “Do you want me to ask you the usual way?”

“Will, are you serious?” you ask, your voice so gentle the words barely sound like they’re yours. Will only nods his head. “I don’t want you to ask at all. I want us to get married as soon as possible.”

He reaches down to grab your hands in his. “I never believed in marriage. I’m not sure if I do now either,” he admits awkwardly, playing with your fingers. “But I really want to hear people call you Mrs. Graham.”

Your heart jumps as he speaks as if you’d been waiting for him to admit those words for years. The words sink in slowly and your eyes become distant, as if you’d been taken back in time. A warm feeling spreads across your chest like you just swallowed a whole bottle of wine in one ginormous gulp.

“You know I can’t say no.” Your words are quiet and soft. He pulls you down onto his lap, his hands still around your fingers as he brings them to his chest. “Can I call you mine too?” 

“Always,” Will replies, his voice low and quiet, but full of love and emotion. “It’s been you all along.”

A soft smile rests on your face as you look down at him. Your head is right above his, but you decide to close the tiny distance between you by leaning forward and pressing your lips against his. You feel your heart race as you do so.

“Did you come up with this to distract me?” Your voice is playful, but the air around you is thick and humid. 

Will leans forward and wraps his arms snugly around your waist, hugging you tight. Your fingers play with his curls, his head back on your chest. The whole weight of him hangs onto you like all the sins in the world, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Maybe,” he replies, a smile tugging at his lips, even though he seems serious.

You can feel his body shift, and suddenly Will presses you firmly against the growing hardness inside his jeans. The whimper that pushes past your lips as you feel it through the thin layer of your pajama pants is downright desperate. You both can’t hide the fact that your breaths are becoming more irregular, muscles tensing under each other’s hands.

“I like being distracted like this,” you whisper, your nose nuzzling against his temple. 

A low growl comes from the man’s chest. You’re close enough to the source of the sound to feel the vibration against your body. He presses his face to your neck, taking in the scent of your skin like he’s oxygen-deprived.

“Should I distract you too, Will?” you ask him quietly, tugging at his tousled hair.

“You’ve done enough, dear. I’m already distracted.” His voice is soft, and his words catch in his throat. Will doesn’t seem to have a single rational thought going through his head. It’s like all he can process is his need for you, and if you didn’t know any better, you’d say this was a spell cast on him. “I want you.” His hand moves to your hip, and he presses into you harder, your breath catching in your throat. “Please.”

And who are you to deny him of anything his soul could ever want or need? You don’t wait for more encouragement as your fingers start working on hastily unbuttoning his shirt. They trace the smooth lines of his chest, the scars that mark his skin, and every little detail of him—every part of his history that he once saw as a defect. It’s not. It’s who he is, who he’s always been—his past is a part of what made him the Will you know and love. 

Your fingers slowly make their way down to his belt and unclasp it too in one go. You graze over his hardness on accident, already feeling its heat through the thin layer. You let out a whimper and your whole brain starts to short-circuit. 

“Slowly.” Will’s voice is hoarse and raw, his fingers digging deeply into the skin of your hip. “I want to see you.”

The man doesn’t waste any time in waiting for your reaction as his hand moves up to your face. His touch is gentle as it pushes back your hair, his fingertips rubbing against the skin behind your ear before they start pursuing the shape of your neck—every muscle and tendon.

“Slowly,” he repeats, and you can’t help but groan.

Nevertheless, you obey, letting your hands explore every surface of his flesh again like he’s the perfect puzzle that you need to solve. His own mirror yours, sliding below the thin layer of your t-shirt, grazing over your navel, and pushing upwards.

Every move you make leaves its mark, causing his body to tremble even more. His breath becomes so uneven, you think he might fall apart at any moment. The mere sound sends shivers down your spine.

“Yes, like that,” he mumbles, and his lips are right next to your ear as he whispers these words. His hand moves again and starts to tug at your shirt.

You help him remove it in one go, left in only your plaid pajama bottoms. Will’s touch is familiar, one you could never forget—not like the dozen strangers through the past few years, you never even remembered their faces come tomorrow morning. But his touch sets you ablaze—burns and soothes at the same time, it’s unforgettable.

Will reaches up to pull your head against his so that you’re staring straight at one another. His touch is gentle, but there’s an intensity to it that you can’t mistake. His lips slowly approach yours with such an intense need that you can read it in his gaze. Even though he doesn’t say it, you feel that this kiss is more than just desire—it’s a need to be as close to you as possible, to never let you go again. His tongue delves inside your mouth, and you sigh into it.

The feeling of your skin pressed against his leaves Will desperate, his mind so overwhelmed and in a haze, he can’t even form the words to describe the sensation. His hand keeps moving as if your flesh were an addiction. The sound that leaves from his throat is something so close to a purr—he’s almost embarrassed. 

You feel his body tensing, his muscles flexing against yours, and your skin feels hot and all too sensitive. He’s taking advantage of this moment to touch you anywhere he can reach. His fingers leave no inch of your skin unexplored as he slowly begins to lower your pajama bottoms.

“God, you’re beautiful.” The sound of your voice draws Will’s eyes closed as he inhales deeply.

Will’s fingers glide down toward your legs, and he looks as if all his dreams are coming true at once. You see his eyes flicker open, and he looks at you with such intensity, such concentration, that it’s hard to breathe as you’re pulled along by an invisible force. He finally lets go of your chin so that he can drag your pajamas down further until they’re thrown across the room. 

You take his hands in yours, placing them over your breasts. And it’s only when his teeth drag across your neck, from just above your collarbone down to the crook of your shoulder, that he loses it completely. 

There’s no being slow or gentle when he pushes you away, standing up and pulling you to your feet. You take hurried steps back as he nudges you toward the bed. Soon enough, your calves hit the mattress and you fall back onto the blue duvet. You don’t even have a chance to take a breath, Will is hovering over you, elbows on each side of your head. 

“You’re gorgeous,” he mumbles, looking deep into your eyes—so deep you’re afraid he can see the broken soul behind them. 

You help him push his jeans and boxers down the length of his legs. The second they’re no longer an obstacle, Will’s fingers delve between your thighs, circling your clit teasingly with the gentlest of touches. Your lips part in a gasp, hands falling onto the covers to clench them in your fists.

“Will, please,” you plead between whimpers. He was the only one who could ever bring you to the point of begging, and you hope he knows it somewhere deep within. 

The man faces you with glassy eyes, swiping the tip of his tongue over his bottom lips. He doesn’t need you to say anything more, he just nods feverishly and lets your fingers guide him inside. The sensation of your heat gripping him tightly makes him groan, lips falling agape. You wrap your legs around his hips, crossing them behind his back, and pull him even closer. 

“Will,” you moan his name against his lips.

It spurs him on, makes him even more eager to please you. He draws back almost completely, then buries himself inside you again in one smooth motion. Your thighs tremble visibly, and it almost makes him smile. You wrap your arms around his neck and kiss him deeply, fingers tugging on his curls. 

Will rocks into you deep and steady, one of his hands digging into the meat of your thigh with so much force it hurts—but goddamn, you love this kind of pain. And he makes it feel even more heavenly when his thumb begins to trace circles over your clit.

It doesn’t take him long to take you over the edge—hard and fast—turning you into a mindless, hot, whimpering mess. You mumble his name over and over again as your heat pulses around his length, making him come just a few moments after you. He claims your mouth with his, making you taste your name on his lips. God, does it taste heavenly.

Night came quicker than you realized, covering the sky with bright stars and a full moon. Despite it, it’s not pitch black outside. The shimmering snow reflects the shining lights, fighting off the darkness well enough. It doesn’t make you feel any less threatened, even though it should.

You’re wrapped only in the blue duvet that covered the bed, as you lie on your side, facing Will, who’s already asleep. His bare thigh is right against yours, and the heat of his skin is almost impossible to resist. You let your eyes wander across his body, his physique—he looks like a sculpture, a masterpiece of flesh and bone.

Your body still aches from his touch, and you feel like you’re a puddle of emotions with the sole mission of holding love, affection, and desire for him. You’re about as far away from being “fine” as possible. You didn’t even get a chance to tell him you’ll be working together from now on. He doesn’t know he’s allowed back in BAU, and you wonder if you should leave him unknowing for as long as possible. It’s not your greatest idea, but the idea of him breaking beyond repair terrifies you.

You try to calm your heart as it races and skips a beat every time his body shifts—the smallest movement seems like it could wake him up. But as you lie there in the darkness, his hand reaches out and finds its rightful place on your thigh again, his fingers barely grazing your skin. The sensation makes you almost jump out of your skin, but he doesn’t seem to notice.

“Why are you awake?” he asks with half-closed eyes.

“Can’t sleep,” you reply softly, wanting to touch him back, but not sure if you should.

“I figured,” he murmurs. “You didn’t sleep much yesterday either.”

You sigh sadly, you didn’t think he’d noticed. His hand moves up your thigh, almost instinctively, until it touches you just below your hip. It stops there, and your eyelashes flutter at its warmth against your skin.

“You can touch me.” Will’s voice is so quiet it’s almost inaudible, and you don’t have to be told twice.

Your fingers slip under the duvet, so the fabric doesn’t block your touch, and you begin to trace the outline of his leg with the tips of your fingers. Will’s eyes finally open, and he looks almost nervous at the intimate touch—until you find the spot where he’s ticklish. He lets out an adorable whimper, so naturally, you laugh and keep going.

“No, no, please stop,” Will moans, trying to fight back his chuckles, squirming as he tries to get away from your touch. The whole time he’s half-smiling, his fingers digging into the duvet for stability. He tries to grab your hands, but it only makes you laugh harder. 

You find another ticklish spot on the side of his torso and continue to tease him. Eventually, your cheeks hurt from smiling so much as you watch Will scoot back, out of your reach. Your sour mood from before is gone in an instant.

Will moves up so that he’s sitting up against the wall, practically on the edge of the bed, and he looks almost offended by your reaction. Your gaze shifts, so you can get a fuller view of him.

“I’m not as ticklish as you think,” he says, his tone serious, though you can still hear a tremble in his voice. “If you wanted to see me squirm,” he adds, “you could’ve found a different method.”

The words send a shiver down your spine, and you immediately pull the sheets up to cover the bottom part of your face, trying to hide your flustered reaction from his eyes. 

“You’re so cute,” he says, his voice just a whisper, almost as if he was afraid that anything above a murmur could wake the dogs sleeping by the fireplace. “So adorable.”

Will’s hand rests on your head, his fingers playing with the strands of hair that cover your ears. You can feel him studying you—how your nose twitches and your eyes almost close as you wait for his next words. Something about it feels intimate as if he’s taking in every detail of your expression one by one. It’s been a while since he’s done that, you didn’t even realize how much you missed it.

“You can pull it down, you know,” he says playfully, his hand still in your hair. “This must be suffocating.”

“I know,” you say quietly, as you pull the sheets down from your face.

Will’s fingers interlace with yours, and you can feel his thumb circling your wrist. 

“And yes, it is a bit suffocating.” You pull the sheets down to your collarbones, and a chill runs through your body as the cold air touches your arms. “Maybe you can warm me up.” 

Will smiles—a small, sweet smile, with a bit of mischief thrown in.  “Maybe I can,” his tone is playful as he pulls you close, your cheek finding a home on his chest, right above his heart.

After a few long minutes of silence and listening to the steady drum of his heartbeat, you turn to face him, resting your chin above his pec.

“We’re back on the team, you know?” you mumble almost mindlessly.

Will looks down at you, his expression gentle as he caresses your hair. 

“I know.”

His gaze trails down your face and lingers on your lips for a brief moment before it shifts again. There are so many things Will wants to say, but he can’t bring himself to do it—he fears it would ruin these quiet, peaceful moments between you two.

You don’t question how he already knows that, choosing instead to voice your other thoughts—ones that’ve been on your mind almost the whole day. “What did Alana want from you?”

Will’s hand pauses against your face when you bring up her name, and for a moment he seems speechless, which is rare a thing for him.

“I…” He trails off but then speaks again as if he’s found the courage to say the words. “Alana wants me to stay away from Hannibal,” he says quietly, his fingers moving on your cheeks, your brows, your chin, as if his hand isn’t allowed to stay still for a second without touching the flesh it can. “She’s sleeping with him.”

“Why does she want you to stay away?”

“Because I tried to kill him.”

You don’t even blink at his confession, there’s no fear in your gaze—no ounce of surprise. There was a time in your life when this revelation would’ve shocked you, broken you in half, but after your father’s death, when you’re faced with it, it’s… easy to handle. Will expected this kind of indifference, he knew you well enough to know you wouldn’t judge nor be afraid.

“How?”

Will lets your question hang in the air for a long minute before he speaks. He takes a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts.

“Not by my hand—not like that,” he starts. “Hannibal has a lot of… a lot of hold over me,” he pauses again, “he made me want to do it.” It’s probably the most vulnerable, the most genuine explanation Will has given anyone. He’s speaking to you from the heart and in pure honesty. “An opportunity fell on my lap to send someone after him, so I took it.”

You nod your head in acknowledgment—it makes sense to you. “It’s a shame it didn’t work out.”

A hint of a smile appears on Will’s face. He moves his fingers to the nape of your neck and to caress the lines of your ear—it’s something he always used to do when he was thinking and you were nearby. “Alana’s very upset with me.”

Will’s other hand slides over your thigh, his fingers teasing the skin, almost as if he was trying to test it, like a cat with a piece of string. He’s still thinking when his hand starts to move upwards, closer to your hip.

“Don’t take it to heart,” you advise him, leaving a soothing peck on his jaw. It was the best you could do.

“I’m trying.” He laughs in a low rumble, his hand moving between your legs and your whole body tenses. “I’m trying,” he says again.

The touch is so soft and gentle—almost teasing, yet your body seems to be craving it. It makes him nervous, but also excited, and when he closes his eyes his head just falls back to rest against the wall, his teeth showing as he breathes in deeply.

“Would you have done this if I…” his words trail off into silence as the man doesn’t seem certain about how to finish his sentence. He looks at you, his face revealing all the questions that he doesn’t dare to ask.

You grasp his jaw between your hands, encouraging him to speak his mind, but being unconditionally patient at the same time. He tries to say something again, then changes his mind. It’s as if he’s playing a constant game with you, trying to reach into your mind without opening his mouth like most people do.

“If you…”

“If I was still the same,” he mumbles out finally.

“Will, you are still the same person. Perhaps a little more broken than before, but it’s still you.”

Will stays silent and still for a minute with his eyes closed, his hand still between your legs. The tips of his fingers keep barely touching you, almost a caress, although a bit harsher than before.  His lids flutter open, so you can see his face as it’s lit by the moonlight.

“There’s something I’d like you to promise,” he says cautiously as if every word is carefully thought out before he speaks it aloud. “Promise me that you’ll keep trusting in me... even if you don’t understand.” 

Will’s hand moves up from between your legs so that he can touch your waist and hold you in place. The fingers of his other hand stroke your face down to the side of your neck, and you can feel how your heart starts to beat faster and faster with each touch.

“I will always trust you, Will. Just never lie to me again, have a little faith in me too.”

Will lets his eyes fall down to your lips again, and he can’t help but bite his own in response. As if he was trying to hold himself together but the urge to kiss you was almost too strong, the way his gaze kept shifting. 

When his lips touch yours—it’s a long, slow kiss, deep and gentle at the same time. He holds you in place, your hips pressed against his as if he doesn’t want you to move, even a centimeter. And you don’t dream of being anywhere else but here—by his side.

“I love you, Will.”

#eat your heart out #smut #mdni #hannibal lecter x reader #hannibal nbc #hannibal lecter x reader x will graham #hannibal lecter x will graham #hannibal lecter #hannibal #hannigram #will graham x reader #will graham x hannibal lecter #will graham

[drewharrisonwriter]

Donor

Part 1 | Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Pairings: Bestie Henry Cavill x OFC A/N, Warnings: 18+, Talk of artificial insemination, peeing in a cup, sperm, and more. LOL I wrote this in an hour, IDK where I pulled this from. Not beta-ed. Also, I'm pretty sure this doesn't make so much sense in terms of plot, and being realistic. But come on, let this delulu queen live her life. You're welcome to join. Summary: You ask (beg) your best friend, Henry to donate--sperm.

I’m AO3, too as MoonDjarin ^_^

“Hank, pleaaaase…” You pleaded, dragging the last word. Henry laughed at your frustration but still could not wrap his head around what you’re asking of him.

“You’re going insane.” He jokes, causing you to drop your back on the carpet with a soft thud, covering your face with your palms as you landed.

“It’s just like peeing in a cup.” Your reply came out muffled. Henry just snorted and tried his best to stifle a laugh.

Nearly 18 years of friendship and here you are, seemingly at the end of your rope, asking your best friend to father the child you so ache for and he laughs at your ridiculous solution, telling you he’s not going to be responsible for a “turkey baster baby”.

“I don’t like peeing in a cup. Besides, why go the turkey baster way when you can go… au naturelle?”

“You know exactly why…” You said, sitting up, and gathering the profiles of sperm donors from the (sperm) bank. You and Henry had been going through each profile over the past few hours, laughing and making faces at the notes.

“And I thought Tinder was bad.” He commented earlier.

Henry got up and took the bottles of beer on the coffee table and walked back to the kitchen to open new ones.

“Tell me why won’t you do it?” You asked him, eyes round and glazed with tears that are threatening to fall any second.

He hates seeing you like this.

He sighed and admitted, “If I were to have any children of my own, I’d rather have them borne out of love and not out of… desperation after a really bad break up.”

“But I’m not asking you to be… a father. Just a donor.” You countered.

"Darling, please. Reaaally think about what you're asking of me."

"I have! I wouldn't be asking you if I haven't. Come on, Hank..."

"Right, not more than an hour after dropping sperm bank Tinder and you've thought this through." He said sarcastically and you pouted.

"Well, think about it, too!" You asked of him. "It's the ideal situation."

"How? Tell me exactly why it's so ideal." He said, running a hand through his face and resting his chin on his palm as he waited for your brilliant idea.

"Well, first of all, we love each other. So the child won't be borne not out of love." You began, mocking his accent and his statement from earlier. He snickered and pinched the bridge of his nose, "Jesus," He muttered.

"Plus, I won't ask you for anything, Hank. No child support, no emotional support. You don't have to see them. You're not even going to be on the birth certificate."

Henry winced at each of your points. "Darling, you know so well that I'm always your emotional support. And d'you really think I can go around just being Uncle Hank?” He replied with an eye roll as he took a sip of his beer.

"Yeah, how hard could that be?" You exclaimed.

"Very." He said sternly, looking you straight in the eye.

"Y/N." He began. "You know so well I won't be able to sit here with you holding a child knowing it's mine and not be involved in all ways."

“God, you’re too emotional.” You rolled your eyes at his response as you drank from your beer bottle.

“I am! And I’m sorry, darling. I can’t just give away my children. They’re not the meals you make for me every week.”

You laughed at that. "So you admit it, you don't like the meals I prep for you?"

"That's beside the point."

You'll get back to that later. You sighed out loud as you both drank.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Shoot.”

“Why do you desperately want this?”

That ought to get you thinking hard.

You sighed and asked yourself the same thing, reflecting on what started this vision of yourself with a child, and what turned it to longing and aching, then desperation.

Growing up without present parents, you basically become an extended Cavill sibling. The sister they never had, or as the youngest Cavill, Charlie, would like to joke, the no-choice sister. That family took you in like their own kin, having you over for dinner almost every evening, and spending weekends and vacations with them.

It's not that you're not well off, financially. Your parents were just really successful actors who don't pay you much any attention but showers you with plenty of lavish gifts and an American Express Black card. Which, Henry's mother found really heartbreaking and his father pitied you on.

You were 15 when you met Henry. He was already a budding actor with a couple of productions and a movie or two in his portfolio. You were a bright and young singer-songwriter from Italy, about to break it into the English-language audience with a catchy single that Henry happened to star in the music video of.

It was easy falling into a friendship with Henry. He was kind, funny, a little nerdy, but he's also such a gentleman, and treats you and talks to you like an equal despite the five-year age gap.

It didn't take long before you met his family when he invited to his birthday party. You didn't know exactly how the events played out that day, but somehow, at the end of it all, you walked out of their home being a part of it.

You got along so well with his brothers, you and his mother already sharing secrets. You figured she was excited to have a girl in the house as none of her children would bring their girlfriends for them to meet. His father was so easy to please, a couple of jokes here and a few football arguments there, and you won his heart. Not like you were even trying, but you were glad that you got along with all of them.

Henry drove you home that night and when he parked in your empty driveway, he jumped out to open the door for you. You cried in the passenger seat with the door open and he stood there, leaning on the doorframe as you confessed to him your jealousy and longing for that kind of family.

He pulled you in and wrapped you in a tight hug beneath the street lamp.

"Hank, you know so well there is nothing I want more in life at this moment than to have a family."

"I don't get it, Y/N." He said quietly, "You're definitely the smartest person I know. You're a literal genius..." He thought of your first few conversations on the set of your first English-language music video, and learning that not only you spoke several languages fluently, but you are also about to start university at such an early age. It impressed him so much.

"You've accomplished so much in your career, you're still young, there are so many things you can do with your life, why do you go back to this?" He asked and you just shrugged.

"I feel incomplete. What can I say? A dream is a dream."

"Gerry was a dream, too." He said and you looked at him surprised at bringing up your ex fiancé.

He was indeed a dream. You met Gerry at an evening talk show as a fellow guest. He didn't hide the fact that he was so enamored by you and that he's such a big fan of your music. You, being a fan of him, too, was just so happy to hear him say all that in person.

It was an instant connection, and it didn't take long for you and Gerry to start a long, and at the time, seemingly, lasting and perfect relationship.

"Sorry." He muttered. "But it makes me wonder, you never talked about it, just casually said that things didn't work out. Knowing you, things don't just not work out like that."

And he's right, you know he's right.

Gerry loves you a lot. You love him, too. But for all the years you've been together with the high-profile action star, the talk of kids almost never came up, at least the serious talk about kids. Until you brought it up soon after he proposed, and he confessed that he had a vasectomy shortly before you met.

You were not mad. You understood, vasectomies are reversible. But Gerry didn't want to have it reversed, ever. He admitted that the reason he got it in the first place was to not accidentally have kids as he fully intended to be childless.

You understood that, too. But it broke your heart.

Regardless, you had a clean break up, but never felt the need to tell people, even your friends or family as to why. Just that things didn't work out.

"Gerry didn't want to start a family." You told Henry.

"What?" He asked, surprised. His brows furrowed and his mouth hung slightly open at your revelation. You just nodded.

"I don't understand, you were to be married." You just nodded again, and took a sip of your beer. You told him the truth about Gerry, and Henry felt his heart breaking for you.

Henry reached for your hand from across the coffee table, enveloping your tiny hands in his big ones.

"And that's a deal breaker for you." He said softly, coming to the realization.

"Yeah." You replied. "So... there you go."

"But you know what comes after the last one, right?"

"What?"

"The next one." He joked, trying to make the air in the room lighter. He smiled at his success when you snickered.

"I'm tired, Hank. Tired of getting to know new people. I've been with Gerry for four years, and before that... well you know." It was Henry's turn to snicker.

He knows so well. All the heartbreaks, disappointments, even the rebounds, met most of them. He was always there at your highest of highs, and always down with you when things didn't work out.

"I get that." He finally answered, thinking about his own strings of ex girlfriends, and an ex-fiancé. At one point, you both feel very proud of the situation you found yourselves in, both engaged to beautiful people at the same time.

You even toasted to it last New Year's eve, not knowing that both promises of a lifetime of love would fall apart in a matter of months. He, too, wanted what you wanted. A family of his own, being the only one amongst his brothers to be single and childless.

He thought he might have had that with his ex fiance. Telling him she was pregnant when she caught a whiff of him about to break things off. He was caught off guard when she told him and he didn't even waste a moment to put a ring on her finger, falling for her lies.

Maybe it was not so bad, making your dream come true. You can always discuss co-parenting, he thought and he's sure you'd allow it.

He pondered on it some more.

Henry rested his head on the cool glass top of the coffee table, his hand never left yours. He let out a breath, fogging the glass beneath him as he gently squeezed your hand.

He shut his eyes tight, and muttered to himself, "Please don't make me regret this."

"What?" You asked, not quite hearing what he said.

"Okay."

"Okay, what?"

"Okay, I'll do it. I'll--be your turkey baster baby's donor."

With that you burst out crying and he stood up, took your hand and guided you to his arms. He wrapped you up in that big, warm hug, that you always find comfort in.

"Set an appointment in the morning, darling." He whispered and you cried some more and muttered a yes, thank you.

18 years of friendship with Henry Cavill, and this is where you find yourself: at a crossroads that neither of you could have predicted.

The weight of his decision settled between you like a tangible presence, and as you hugged each other tightly, you knew that this was a turning point in your relationship, an uncharted territory.

Read next part: Part 1.5 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

#henry cavill #henry cavill fic #henry cavill x #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fluff #henry cavill x female reader #henry cavill x little!reader #henry cavill x ofc #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x y/n #henry cavill x you

[d3adp00ls]

I’m still waiting for that angst fic pookie 😍🫶

Clingy

Vanessa (fnaf movie) x reader

Summary: Vanessa has been a lot more distant a lot but you didn’t think she would miss a important night like this. (I KNOW MY SUMMARY IS BEAUTIFUL)

Contents: Angst, Yelling, Tears, stressed Vanessa, Established relationship, hurt no comfort (yet), Vanessa gets slapped 😬, somebody needs driving lessons lol.

Word count: I'm pretty sure my dog knows.

Side note: 🦗🦗🦗🦗🦗

Pt.2 Pt.3

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You were sitting on the couch in your shared home with Vanessa, watching a TV program that featured extravagant rings that cost more than your entire life. Recently, Vanessa had been coming home later than usual, and every time you tried to bring it up, she would dismiss your concerns or accuse you of being too clingy. You tried to brush off her words and the hurt they caused, but it was becoming increasingly difficult to ignore your feelings. Eventually, you gave up and started going to bed before she came home. However, tonight was supposed to be different. You had pleaded with her to come home early and she had promised she would. Filled with hope, you had prepared a romantic candle-lit dinner and even bought her a gift. But as the minutes turned into hours, the food grew cold and the gift remained untouched on the table. You sat on the couch with a half-finished glass of wine, tears welling up in your eyes.

She was supposed to have arrived hours ago, and you had debated whether or not to just go to sleep. But as you were about to doze off, you heard the familiar sound of keys jingling and the front door opening. Vanessa, your late girlfriend, seemed oblivious to your presence as she quietly closed the door and went straight to the kitchen without acknowledging the food you had prepared for her.

With a clenched jaw, you stood up and cleared your throat, causing Vanessa to finally notice you. "Y/n? What are you doing up?" she asked with a confused and slightly worried expression.

You wanted to scoff at her question. How dare she ask that when she had promised to be here? "Oh, you know," you shrugged, taking a few steps towards her, "Just waiting for my girlfriend who was supposed to be here almost four hours ago." Your voice rose with pent-up anger towards the end, and you could see Vanessa flinch slightly at the sound of it.

"Y/n…I lost track of time, I'm sorry, really I am, I-" She started to apologize, but you cut her off, not in the mood for her excuses.

"Do you know what today is?" you asked, your voice heavy with disappointment. Vanessa looked even more puzzled, and you let out a sigh as you walked over to the table and picked up the small gift box you had prepared for her. You fiddled with it between your fingers, trying to hold back the tears that were threatening to spill.

"June 7th," you said, looking back at Vanessa, hoping she would finally understand. But she still looked confused, and you felt your heart sink. "The day we started dating, two years ago. Does it not ring a bell, Vanessa? Or were you too busy thinking about work or some other woman while you were out all night?" you couldn't hold back your anger any longer, and you let out a loud yell, tears now streaming down your face.

"Oh…" Vanessa mumbled, finally realizing her mistake. You nodded, wiping the tears from your cheeks, but they kept coming.

"Yeah…" you said, your disappointment evident in your voice.

"Baby, I know I've been really busy and lost track of time, but please try to understand-" You cut her off abruptly, rolling your eyes and turning away.

"Here we go again…" you mutter under your breath, feeling her glare burning into the back of your head as you make your way to the bedroom. You toss the gift box in the trash on your way, feeling frustrated and angry.

"What do you mean?" she asks, following you into the room. You let out a sigh and close the door behind you, but she stops it with her foot and pushes it open, grabbing your arm and spinning you to face her.

"Don't you dare walk away when I'm talking to you," she says coldly, but you scoff and pull your arm away.

"No, you don't get to act like you haven't been doing the same thing for the past week. You always do this, yet whenever I try and speak up about it, I'm the bad guy? That's complete bullshit!" you yell, jabbing your finger into her chest.

"And don't even try to pretend that you've only missed spending time with me once. You do it every single day," you continue, your voice cracking as tears start to well up in your eyes.

"Every time you tell me you'll be here, you never are. And when I try to talk to you about it, you just shut me down and tell me the same bullshit excuse or you just flat out tell me to get over it. But it's getting harder and harder to ignore, Nessa. And this morning, I had to beg you to stay. You said you would, and I believed you. But then you showed up later than ever and didn't even respond to my messages. You didn't even remember what today was. At this point, I’m convinced I’m just some inconvenience to you." Your voice breaks as you continue to pour out your feelings, wiping away the tears that are now falling freely down your face.

She looks at you in surprise, wanting to reach out and comfort you, but you take a step back and wipe away your own tears before taking a deep breath and looking away from her.

"I'm tired of feeling like I'm not important to you, Nessa. I just want to spend time with you and feel like I matter to you. Is that too much to ask?" you say, your voice barely above a whisper now.

Vanessa let out a heavy sigh before shaking her head in frustration.

"Y/n, I love you, but I have responsibilities and obligations that I can't always put on hold for you," she said with a huff.

You looked at her with hurt and confusion in your eyes, crossing your arms and turning away. "Am I not important to you anymore?" you mumbled, your voice trembling.

Vanessa's sigh pained your heart as you heard it. "Of course you are, but you just don't understand," she started, but you interrupted her with a pleading look.

"Then help me understand," you begged, taking her hands and pulling her closer to you. You pressed your forehead against hers, desperate for her to see how much this was affecting you. "Please… I want to understand," you whispered, gazing into her eyes.

She looked away, her jaw clenching as she pulled her hands away from yours. Your heart sank as she avoided your gaze, and you clenched your fists in frustration.

"Okay," you said quietly, finally accepting that she wasn't going to explain. You pushed past her and left the room, heading to the living room.

You didn't hear her follow you as you grabbed your coat and began putting on your shoes. As you searched for your keys, you heard Vanessa enter the room and stand in the middle of it, watching you. But you didn't acknowledge her as you grabbed your wallet from the table behind her.

"Where are you going?" she asked, her tone a little more stern.

You ignored her and continued searching for your keys, finally finding them between the couch cushions. You stood up and began walking towards the door, but she grabbed your arm and turned you around forcefully.

"I asked you a question," she glared at you.

You glared back and snatched your arm away, walking past her towards the door. But she followed you, grabbing your arm more harshly this time and turning you around.

"No, you don't get to leave-" she started, but before she could finish her sentence, you had already raised your hand and slapped her across the cheek.

You were shocked at your own actions and immediately regretted it as you saw the red handprint on her cheek. You both stood there in silence and shock before you finally mumbled a quick apology and left.

She eventually made her way back to the bedroom, her heart breaking as she heard your car speed away. If she had stayed just five seconds longer, she would have heard the sound of another car zooming by and a loud crash. If she hadn't fallen asleep just ten minutes later, she would have heard her phone ringing.

But she would see all of that in the morning.

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BRO I HAVE BEEN PROCRASTINATING THIS FIC FOR A WEEK I LITERALLY HAD IT FINISHED JUST NOT EDITED and then i was supposed to post it earlier but im on the phone with some friends BUT FINALLY I POSTED IT also ill post part two sometime this week hopefully ANYWAYS TOODLES🤪✌🏾

#fnaf vanessa #vanessa shelly x reader #vanessa afton x reader #fnaf movie #vanessa shelly #fnaf #five nights at freddy's #vanessa monroe #angst #❦𝐵𝓊𝓃𝓃𝓎❦ #✰𝕄𝕪𝕗𝕚𝕔𝕤✰

[starstruckmiraclekitty]

a moment of sadness and sweetness in one bottle. What to do if there was a quarrel between the characters and Y / N on stupid grounds, for example, they misunderstood each other, or maybe someone didn’t buy something that he had been asked for a long time in the store, or said something unpleasant, although it might not even be addressed to the second. Someone will be very offended, and the second will try to correct the current situation. In general, everyday moments, with an exceptionally good ending!

Yess! Happy to do this one, love me a bit of angst/fluff🙃 thanks for the request! Hope this was okay for you!

141 + König Having A Small "Fight" With GN! Reader

Warnings: angst, swearing, crying, bickering, mentions of depression and self conciousness ‐‐ends in fluff!!

Simon Ghost Riley-

Simon was in a dreadful mood. He and the team had just gotten home from a mission that didn't go well for any of them. He wanted nothing more than peace and quiet and to lay in bed for the remainder of the day.

He walked into your shared some and was immediately hit with the smell of his favorite food cooking in the kitchen, and gave a heavy sigh. He tried to muster a decent enough mood for you, as it was clear you were just trying to make him feel better.

He walked in and found you dancing around the kitchen, putting the final touches on dinner. "I'm home, Y/N."

You turned to him with a bright smile. "Hey! Dinner is almost ready. I'm not sure if you were hungry or not."

You walked over to him and embraced hom tightly. Simon stood stiff, not returning the sentiment, causing you to pull away immediately.

"If it's alright, I'll eat it in the bedroom." Simon said, his eyes leaving yours to look at the floor.

"Oh, that's fine." Your smile fell ever so slightly. "Is there anything else I can do to help?"

"No. I just want to be alone." He mumbled, tapping his fingers on the table.

You nodded meekly and went to prep his plate, handing it to him nervously. "I hope you like, I spent all afternoon prepping it."

"I'm sure it's fine, Y/N. It's just food. Can I go now?" Simon instantly regretted the tone of his voice but couldn't bring himself to reflect on it. He had too much swirling on his mind already.

You swallowed thickly and nodded at him, watching him make his way to your shared room, slamming the door behind him.

You knew when getting into a relationship with him that there would be days like this. He went through so much in his personal life, and his job was far from easy. He'd been gone for nearly 3 months, and you missed him terribly, wanting nothing more than to embrace your boyfriend when he got home.

He told you it was a rough mission, so you thought surprising him with his favorite home cooked meal might help him decompress. You'd had the whole night planned out to take care of him, and now here you were eating alone.

You felt tears fall down your cheeks and stared at your food, your appetite now gone.

~

Later that night, as you were unsure if you could approach him, you'd decided to sleep on the couch.

Simon had come out a few hours after you'd fallen asleep, wondering why you hadn't come to bed, and his heart shattered when he saw you.

He walked over to your sleeping form and crouched down beside you, placing a hand on your shoulder. "Y/N, sweetheart."

Your eyes blinked open and looked up at him. Even in the dark Simon could tell you had been crying, and he felt horrible. "Simon?"

"Come to bed, love."

You shook your head, a sad smile forming on your lips. "It's okay. You wanted to be alone."

Simon placed his hands on either side of your face gently. "Just for a little while was all. I didn't want to take my shitty mood out on you. I should've gone about it a different way, though. The food was incredible, I'm sorry I made your hard work seem like it wasn't worth it."

You nodded slowly and moved to sit up. "Im sorry for my part. I knew you had a hard mission, and I let myself take it personally."

"Bugger off with that. C'mere." He pulled you into his arms, carrying you bridal style to your shared room. He laid you carefully on the bed, and slipped into the covers behind you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist.

"I love you, Y/N. Thank you for being you." He declared quietly as he pressed a kiss to your hair. "I don't know what I'd do without you in this world."

König-

"Maus, are you almost ready to go? Our reservation is in 20 minutes!" You heard your boyfriend's voice call from outside your room.

"Y-Yeah. I'll be out in a minute." You replied, staring at your reflection in your mirror. You'd spent the last 30 minutes applying makeup and weren't happy with the end result. You kept reapplying various products, and nothing seemed to be making it better.

König made his way into the room after a few moments to see what the holdup was. "You ready?"

"I'm just trying to make this look good. It's not looking the way I want it." You huffed in frustration.

"You spend so much time getting ready. It's not going to help your self esteem throwing all that stuff on your face, Maus."

"...what?" You turned to him, not knowing if you heard him correctly. He knew of your self-esteem issues, and you were surprised he threw it in your face.

"I said you don't need that crap on your face. It won't help you feel better." He said, his eyebrows bunching together in confusion. Was he saying something wrong? He truly felt you didn't need it.

You turned your head away from him as you felt hot tears beginning to fall down your cheeks. "Oh."

König heard your voice break and immediately panicked. "Maus, are you okay?"

You nodded your head and made your way to the bathroom, grabbing a makeup wipe. You began to aggressively wipe away the makeup on your face as your tears continued to fall.

König followed behind you silently, and his heart shattered upon seeing your tear stained reflection in the mirror. "Maus... tell me what's wrong."

You whipped your head in his direction, fully sobbing now. "I feel so ugly König. Makeup is the only thing that helps me with my self-esteem, and you...you made it seem like it was stupid."

König felt horrible. He truly didn't think much of his words. He thought you were truly beautiful inside and out and didn't need something as trivial as makeup. You were already so beautiful without it.

"Schatz, no, no. I didn't mean it like that. I meant to say you don't need it. You're so pretty without it. I don't know why you don't see yourself the way that I do. You are so stunning, I wish you could see that. I promise you I did not mean to belittle how you felt, sweeheart." He slowly approached you and gently started to wipe away your tears. "I love you so much, please don't be upset."

You cried harder at his words, and König almost lost it himself. He was about to speak up himself when you threw your arms around his midsection and buried your face in his chest. "I'm sorry, Kö."

"What on earth do you have to be sorry for?" He asked, bewildered.

"I just.. I feel like I'm not good-looking enough, so I turn to makeup." You mumbled in his chest.

He pulled your face away gently. "Y/N. Remember when we first started dating? I felt horrible about myself and my scars. It's one of the reasons I always wore my hood. Until you. You made me feel good and happy within my own skin. Please, love, let me help you."

You gave him a smile and pressed your lips to his. "I love you so much, Kö. Thank you."

König returned his arms around your waist giving you a tight hug. "I'm always here, Maus. And you are the most beautiful thing in the world to me."

Kyle Gaz Garrick-

You and Kyle were sitting on the couch as you played one of the video games he'd been addicted to lately. You wanted to show more interest in the games he liked, and were delighted when he gave you the controller.

You were coming up on a boss fight, and assured Kyle you were okay to win it. "I promise Ky, I got this."

"I'll lose all my items if you don't, it took me forever to get it. Please be careful." He said, watching you play with worry.

You nearly defeated the boss, when you all of a sudden forgot to duck and were struck with a killing blow.

"Ugh, I'm sorry, I almost had him." You chuckled, turning to see your boyfriend staring at you with an angry look on his face.

"Sorry? I've been at this for hours, and you just let my character get killed, I lost all of my items Y/N!" Kyle's voice rose, causing you to flinch slightly.

"I said I was sorry, I feel bad. I just wanted to try this game out since you love it so much. I didn't mean for this to happen." You mumbled quietly, shifting your eyes away from his.

"This is the last time I let you play any of my games. You ruin everything." He said through gritted teeth. "Now I've got to go back and fix all this no thanks to you."

Your bottom lip trembled slightly as you stood and ran to your bedroom, slamming and locking the door behind you. You honestly hadn't meant for it to happen. You were just trying to show interest in a game he loved.

~

It was about an hour later when Kyle came into your room, his heart hurting at the sound of your muffled sobs. "Babe?"

You didn't reply, as you kept your head buried in your pillows. He came over to you, and sat beside you on the bed, rubbing your back soothingly. "I'm sorry. I was an absolute ass. You were trying to show interest which I so appriciate, and I just threw it back in your face. I'm so, so sorry baby."

Kyle bent down and began to pepper light kisses all over your face, making you giggle. "What do you say we go and play Mario kart? I may even let you win a match."

"What? Ky you know I whoop your ass at that game." You giggled, wiping your tears away.

"That's a load of rubbish and you know it. Loser makes dessert?" He asked, a wide smile forming on his face.

"You're on, Garrick."

Johnny Soap MacTavish-

You'd just gotten home from a shopping trip on your own, and were unloading the bags in the kitchen when your boyfriend Johnny walked in.

"Hey babe, thanks for going." He pressed a kiss to your cheek as he started to help you unload the bags.

"Y/N, where's the hair razor?" Johnny asked, tearing through the shopping bags.

"Oh, crap I forgot it, I knew there was something I was missing. I'll get it next trip!"

"You forgot it? I've been asking you nonstop about it and put it on the list like you asked me to! I shouldn't have to wait until next trip!"

"Okay, okay, im sorry."

"You probably forgot because you were too busy wasting our money on shit we don't need, instead of focusing on the stuff we do."

You swallowed thickly, as his words hit you like a thousand bricks. "Okay."

Johnny threw his hands up in frustration and walked outside to the porch, slamming the door behind him.

You grabbed your keys on the table and made your way to your car.

~

"Where've you been? I came back inside, and you were gone and didn't pick up your cell."

"Went back to the store, here." You said, shoving the razor box into your boyfriend's hands. "Sorry again."

You threw your purse down onto the table and started to make your way to your room before a hand came out and grabbed your wrist. "Y/N, wait."

You turned around to him, your face showing no emotion. "What."

"I'm sorry, babe. I shouldn't have said that shit. I just got frustrated, but that's no excuse." He reached for both your arms and rubbed at them soothingly.

You sighed deeply and met his eyes. "I'm sorry too. It completely skipped my mind when I was there."

"Ah, it's fine. Honestly. I was just being a prick. I appreciate you going back to get it, I really do."

Johnny came up and gave you a bone crushing hug, spinning you around. "I love you, kid."

"I love you too, Johnny." You chuckled before your face fell. "I uh... forgot we needed batteries for your razor."

John Price-

John had been in his home office nearly all day on call after call. It was supposed to be his day off, but he hadn't left his room in hours. You were slightly worried about him, as he hadn't eaten all day so you decided to make a small snack for him and bring it into his office.

You walked in quietly, pointing to the plate of crackers and cheese as he looked at you pointedly. "Just bringing by a little snack."

"Yeah, yeah, love. I'll be out later." John waived his hand at you dismissively. You gave a small smile before making your way out of his room, closing the door behind you. You were just about to walk away when you heard something spoken, muffled by the door. "Just annoying, you know?"

You felt your heart drop upon hearing those words and walked to your bedroom, not wanting to hear another word. Did you really annoy him? You were just trying to make sure he ate he hadn't left the room in hours.

You laid down on your bed, and tears came to your eyes. You'd been feeling rather depressed lately, like you weren't good enough for him, and his words stabbed at your heart. It was impossible not to keep replaying them over and over in your head.

You'd ultimately decided to give him space for the remainder of the day, not wanting to burden him in any way.

~

"Hey, sorry I've not been able to get off that damn phone all day. Want to go grab a bite?" John's voice came from the doorway.

"No. I'm okay. Thanks, though." You replied, not turning to look at him.

"Oh? Are you sure? It's dinner time, and I figured you haven't eaten." He tried again, walking over to you, and stopped in his tracks when he saw the tear stains literring your cheeks. "Baby, what's wrong?"

You looked up at him, your bottom lip trembling. "Am I annoying?"

"Annoying?" John looked utterly perplexed at your question. "Not at all honey, why would you think that?"

"When... when I closed the door earlier, I heard my name through it...and afterward you said "just annoying"." You sniffled out, unable to meet his eyes.

John sat for a moment, replaying the conversation in his head before remembering. "Oh! God no baby, that wasn't about you. I was on with Kate, and she asked if I'd been able to spend time with you yet since I got home, and I told her I haven't, and it's annoying. I don't think you're annoying at all."

He pulled you into his arms, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I'm so sorry you thought that."

You shook your head, a small laugh bubbling in your chest. "I shouldn't have even thought anything of it. I've just been down, lately, I suppose."

"Honey, you should've told me. I can't help you if I don't know what you're feeling." Price put his finger under your chin and lifted for you to look at him. "Why don't we go get some takeout and have a movie night in? How does that sound?"

You nodded your head and pressed your lips against his. "I love you John."

"I love you too, always."

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

A/N: didn't go too angsty on this one lol. Thanks for reading!!

#cod imagine #simon riley imagine #mw2 imagine #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #ghost mw2 #konig x reader #konig imagine #konig mw2 #ghost imagine #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #gaz imagine #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #john price #price x reader #price imagine #soap mctavish #soap imagine #soap x reader #mw2 x reader

[iliveforyouilongforyouvesuvia]

The Arcana HCs: How the M6 hurt you

~ I hope you're ready for some angst >:3 Even the healthiest relationships have painful moments when one hurting, flawed person hurts another hurting, flawed person. Moments like these are not signs of closeness. They are alarms that signal a need for growth, and a healthy relationship will take those signals seriously - brainrot ~

Here's the sequel!

How you hurt the M6

TW for yelling, references to canon death events, descriptions of panic attacks, abandonment, losing one's home, accidental gaslighting, burns, PTSD, violent outbursts (not character on character) and general trauma

Julian

It happened after a series of busy weeks. Julian had been pulling long hours at work, always gone before sunrise and back just in time for bed. You haven't been able to catch up with him in days

You're rather fed up too. Mazelinka and Portia had both stopped by multiple evenings to catch up, increasingly irritated with his absence while you hosted them and apologized on his behalf

And now he's home early, for the first time in what feels like a month, and you can see the toll he's taken on his body, and he's asking you to - spend the night working at the clinic with him?

"Julian, why do you want me to do this? I'm not a doctor."

"I know, I'm sorry, but there's a nasty cold spreading around. Right now the only treatment is to let the fever run its course, but with your help, I'm sure we'll able to find something!"

"Is the fever dangerous?"

"Well - it's not killed anyone, no - but what if it does? We need to be prepared. Just come with me for tonight, please?"

He's already shrugging his cape on at the door, holding your own coat out to you impatiently. You look at the exhaustion in his eyes and take his hand instead.

"Julian, you're tired. I'm tired. Why don't you rest for tonight? We haven't had a moment alone together in weeks, and people are worried about you."

Something about those words sets him off and he yanks away

"Worried about me? I'm not the one to worry about, people are sick, dammit!" His voice is rising in volume, a gloved hand waving around in angry desperation.

"They're asking for help and I'm the only one still trying! What was even the point of sticking around if you won't let me do anything useful with my life?!"

You would respond, but your throat's closing up in your effort to hold back tears and you don't want to look at him right now. You can feel his angry words sitting heavy in the silence, until he swears under his breath and slams the door

Moments later there's two de-gloved hands hovering by your face, a wavering voice full of regret trying to get your attention

"MC. MC I'm so sorry, I - I didn't mean it, please forgive me. You mean everything to me, and - and you're right, I shouldn't have yelled, and you're crying I - I'm so sorry, can you ever forgive me?"

He's shaken, shocked at his own words and full of shame at causing you pain, but refusing to leave until he knows you'll be okay. You're too tired and hurt to unpack everything right now so you grab a bit of his sleeve instead and make your request:

"We can talk in the morning, but can we sleep? Please?"

He'll nod and help you up the stairs and into bed, offering to exile himself to the couch if the space would help

You'll both fall asleep fairly quickly, but he's going to keep waking up through the night plagued with guilt and fighting the urge to leave so you can save yourself and move on

He'll let you know in the morning that he's really sorry and wants to talk about it too, and will take the next few days off of work to focus on resolving things and finding a way back to normal

Asra

You know for a fact that they're loyal to a fault and that they would never abandon you, but you two have been together for over a year now and they still forget to communicate with you ahead of time

He'd been unusually all over the place for the last month - disappearing with little notice for several days at a time, coming home to spend the night loving you, and gone the next morning

Every time they come back they're so happy to see you that you don't get the chance to ask how and where they've been, and every morning there's only the breakfast they made for you as evidence that they were even there in the first place

You've started to forget what it feels like to see him in daylight, so you decide to try bridging the gap. The next time you have him lying next to you, you ask for him to stay before dozing off:

"Have dinner with me tomorrow. I've missed you."

The next morning there's Faust and a note by your pillow, saying they'll be back at sunset and they'll bring food so you won't have to cook

Dinner is fun. He fixes you with that adoring gaze and gets you to tell him all about what you've been up to, even apologizing for not asking sooner. You get up to clear the table and brew some tea, and when you turn around he's at the door with his back to you

"Asra?" You can see the excitement in their motions as they shrug on their coat, eager to be off. They barely spare a glance over their shoulder as they heft their bag - still packed - onto their arm

"It's a moonless night, my love. The perfect time to start an adventure. I know you've been busy recently, so I won't push you to join me. We'll go together next time. Faust?"

The snake somehow notices your stricken face better than your beloved does. You barely get the chance to grasp what's happening as he bustles across the room to press a quick farewell to your frozen lips, heading out the door with an "I'll miss you!"

It's the sound of the door closing and the resulting, all-too-familiar silence that undoes you. You numbly put the half-filled teapot down and quietly curl up in Asra's chair, no longer fighting your tears as their lingering warmth begins to fade

"Haha! I forgot my hat. Why is the door still unlocked, M - MC? You're crying. What's wrong, what happened? Are you hurt?"

You can hear him rushing across the shop to get to you, sinking to his knees in front of the chair to get a better look at your lowered face. He's got a warm hand on your cheek, brushing your tears away while the other runs through his hair in concern

You can't move away before a hand comes to rest over your heart and you watch the face in front of you twist in pain and concern "MC - what's hurting you like this?"

You're not sure how it's not obvious to them, but you try to explain the best you can anyways: "You said you'd never go where I can't follow again, so - so why do you keep leaving? At least tell me when it's going to happen so I know what to expect."

It's clicking together in his mind now, and he's dropping his bag to clutch you to his chest and murmur apologies between kisses

They'll hold you as close as you let them that night, and stay home for the next few months to reestablish their missed connection with you. You'll be able to tell them eventually that you love their wanderlust - you just wish they'd do better at communicating

Nadia

One of the things that hurt the most when you first met her was how deeply her faith in herself had been broken. Always second guessing herself, doubting her intuition, and hesitating to act

She's the opposite of that now - a Countess more than worthy of leading Vesuvia out of its shambles - but sometimes you wish she would stop to think twice about things. Sometimes you wish she would stop to think twice about you, instead of just assuming

Like hearing her casually mention over lunch that she had received an offer for your shop and would need you to sign the paperwork tomorrow afternoon to confirm the handover

"Come again? Hand over my shop?"

She's still so deep in decision-making work mode that she forgets to read your tone, only pausing to sip from her cup and nod

"Nadia, why would I sell my shop?"

She smiles at you indulgently and calmly explains her reasoning, clearly under the impression that she's doing you a favor:

"You don't have any more need for it. You no longer use it for employment, as you are my lovely magician, you no longer use it for housing, as you are my partner, and you no longer use it for income, as I am committed to providing all your heart's desires. What's mine is yours and what's yours is mine, my darling."

You're beginning to feel panic well up in your chest. The way she speaks is so certain, the deal she mentions has already been struck, and you are about to lose the last piece of your life leftover from before the plague, and -

"MC, whatever's the matter? Are the dishes not to your taste?"

"No, I - Nadia, what's mine is still mine."

"Of course it is, dearest, now what's troubling you?"

You don't know how to explain this. It's as if you're slowly going crazy, panicking at the thought of losing something that is apparently so worthless to the rest of the world, and you're running out of calm ways to explain: "I don't want to sell my shop, Nadia."

Her eyebrows raise in concern. "Are you not adequately provided for?" You shake your head. She sighs in newfound understanding and takes your hand. "I understand that leaving an old house can be disquieting. I assure you, the freedom is entirely worthwhile."

"Nadia," you croak, "Nadia, it's not just an old house." You're rapidly losing the ability to see your plate clearly, but you need to speak before your voice fails. "It's all I have left from my family. It's all I have from before the plague. It's all I have -" your breaths are getting shaky, but you need her to understand, you need her to understand what she's doing - "It's all I have. It's my home."

You can tell the truth's caught up to her when you hear her knife clatter to the table. "MC, I'm so -" she chokes and stands. "I'll resolve this at once. I hope ... I hope you can forgive me."

That night, the relief on her face when you join her for dinner is plain as day. She brings it up as soon as you're alone together, determined to talk things through and reach an understanding so she can properly resolve things with you and do better

Muriel

Certain times of the year are particularly difficult for Muriel. Dr Nazali explained it to you once, how ex-soldiers will have worsened symptoms of combat fatigue on the anniversaries of major battles

For Muriel, it's the dates for all of the new festivals that the ex-Count introduced. City wide celebrations meant thousands more in the Coliseum stands, which in turn required more than double the opponents and cruel spectacles he had to participate in

Whenever the old festival dates roll around, you watch him revert to who he was when you first met him - a shell of a man handling his own haunting in the privacy of the woods

It's been especially rough this week. He rarely speaks and barely eats. He doesn't have the energy to pull his hair back anymore, and he's taken to sleeping on the ground so Inanna can have the bed again. Even the chickens seem concerned

So you try to pick up the slack. You keep the hut clean, offer to comb and braid his hair for him, bring him meals that are easy to keep down, and decline any activities that would force him to socialize

His response is to take the safety as his cue to mentally hibernate through the worst of it. It's afternoon now, and you haven't seen him move since he used the bathroom and ate this morning

"Muriel?" You see his shoulder twitch, but his chin stays sunk to his chest, eyes hidden by the curtain of his hair. "Muriel, can you eat?"

You walk over, purposefully slow so he can see you coming, and crouch next to him with a steaming bowl of broth. "Muriel, you need to eat something. You don't have to get up, just ... please try to drink at least a little of this?"

He turns to you with a sullen glare, completely unlike the gentle green you're used to getting lost in, and Inanna whines from her corner. His voice is gravelly from misuse when he speaks:

"Leave me alone."

"Muriel -" you make the mistake of touching his shoulder, and he flinches violently away from the touch. His flying elbow upsets the bowl in your hand and he turns to you with his arms hiding his face

"Leave. Me. Alone, MC. I don't want you here."

You'd normally try to be understanding, but the bowl he accidentally knocked over landed on your feet and the boiling liquid has splashed up your legs, soaking into your trousers, first burning and then steaming the stretch of skin beneath

It's the way that you're clenching your jaw to hold in a scream that snaps him out of it. He knows that look - he's seen it a hundred times before, but it's the first time he's seen it on you

"MC?" His eyes drop to the upended bowl, to the steam rising from your legs, and his face goes slack in horror

Acting purely on instinct, he swats the bowl aside and tears away the clothing burning into your skin. He has you in his arms and submerged in the cold spring outside in seconds

He's a lot more intentional about staying open to you during his bouts of PTSD now, but he doesn't drink broth any more

Portia

Ambassador trips get draining very easily, much more for Portia than for you. Nothing makes her happier than making everyone else happy, and diplomatic negotiations aren't necessarily the best place to be a people pleaser

It's been three straight days of back-and-forth. During Nadia's coma, a nearby city-state had been slowly encroaching on and taxing Vesuvian territory. If the injustice wasn't enough to get her blood boiling, it didn't help that one of the courtiers had it out for her Aunt Tasya

You, on the other hand, have been busy since you landed helping out the neighborhood around the dock. Magic users seem to be in short supply here, and your days have been tiring but fulfilling

You're sitting in the cabin now, struggling to keep your eyes open, when Portia thunders into the room and begins changing for bed while aggressively ranting

"Those bastards! The farmers have been working on less than two meals a day for the last year and half! And did you hear what they said about Aunt Tasya? Why, I oughtta -"

You're listening to and watching her, concern tugging at your heartstrings, but when she turns to look at your face she doesn't seem to see the reaction she was hoping for

"MC - are you even listening?"

"Yes, you were saying about your Aunt Tasya?"

She huffs and you see her upper lip curl into a sneer. "Oh, I see how it is. I'm just supposed to stand back and let you handle everything, right? Am I just some side character to you? Is that what you think of me?"

She's angrily shoving her hair out of her face, trembling with rage, and all you can feel is shock. Is that what she thinks of you?

"What is it, MC? Cat got your tongue? Are you too important to talk to me now?"

You rear back, head spinning from the hurt in her tone. "No! I don't think that about you at all!"

She slams her fists down on the table, the clatter of the plates on it chiming in with a broken sob. "What, so I come from nothing? I'm nothing but a - a shipwrecked orphan whose older brother couldn't even stick around?"

You're rooted in your chair, heart twisting at her words. Is that what they've been saying to her? "Portia, you're not nothing. You're out here making such a big difference in people's lives -"

"Oh, you mean like you? Like how everyone in town can't take their eyes off of you while I do the grunt work? Like how I save the world with you and you're all people can see? I may as well be invisible next to you!"

You're both frozen, staring wide-eyed at each other. You've known Portia could get jealous. You haven't seen this before. Your hands begin to shake under the table as her eyes go from shock to grief

"MC - MC I'm sorry, I'm so sorry ... I didn't mean it, I swear I would never mean it, it's those bastards who keep looking down on me and I thought ... maybe you were ... I'm sorry -"

It's a long night of whispered sorry's before you're in the space to hear her explanation. She's better at being open with you about her insecurities now, but any time her volume changes she walks away to cool off before continuing

Lucio

Lucio has a level of resilience that will never fail to surprise you

Of course, most of that comes from his tendency to live in the present. It makes confronting the past rather difficult, but once it's been dealt with, he sees no reason to dwell on it and can drop it faster than a hot potato

The only issue is that sometimes he's so quick to drop the past and stay in his present comfort zone that he's blinded to people who still need to spend time thinking about it

Even when it's you. Especially when you walk through a town that's been ravaged by a plague locals refer to as the "Yellow Death"

While Lucio seems antsy to pass through, you find your feet dragging slower and slower as you look at the carnage. Houses marked with a white circle are burnt-out shells in an effort to be rid of the plagued bodies within them and entire blocks are rubble

It's when you stray too close to one of them that your foot knocks against a charred child's toy, painted a strangely familiar pattern

You may not remember, but deep down you know that you knew someone who had one of these. Maybe it was you, maybe it was a friend, maybe it was a cousin?

"MC! Hurry up, we're walking here!" You can barely hear Lucio's voice over the dull roar in your ears, but you know he's nearby when two wet noses nudge themselves into your palms and an impatient hand nudges at your shoulder

"Come on, MC, you don't wanna stay somewhere this depressing."

A hand tugs on your elbow and you're finally able to shake your gaze loose from the eerily familiar blackened doorframe. Your eyes travel down to your palm where the toy still sits

Lucio follows your line of sight and flinches, a bead of sweat trailing down his temple as his smile gets tight

"MC? Let me take that, you don't want it. It's worthless anyway, whoever had it's been gone a long time." His grip is considerably rougher than yours, and you watch in horror as the little toy splinters between his fingers

"Ha! Look at that, gone like smoke. Let's go already, there's nothing worth looking at here. The town's empty, nobody's around to care about whoever died here. MC? MC you're shaking -"

You haven't felt this angry at him in a long time, and you know he's speaking from his stress and not from his mind, but you can't take another invalidating comment from him -

"Nobody cares about whoever died here? Gone like smoke?"

You see the blood leave his face and the fear take over as he realizes what he's said. "MC -"

"I was a person, Lucio. I had a life. Is that smoke to you too?"

"I'm sorry!" He's got your wrists in his hands, tugging you away from ruins that could too easily be your childhood home. "I'm sorry, but we need to get out of here first!"

You follow numbly, unsure of how to proceed while he drags you away from the ghost town. You're barely able to accept his touch as he holds you through the first panic attack of many

Lucio doesn't like dwelling on the past, but he's learning the hard way not to trample on others for needing to

#ask arcana brainrot #the arcana #the arcana headcanons #the arcana hc #asra the arcana #julian the arcana #nadia the arcana #muriel the arcana #portia the arcana #lucio the arcana #the arcana game #the arcana angst #asra alnazar #julian devorak #nadia satrinava #muriel of the kokhuri #portia devorak #lucio morgasson

[bloodyjuls-blog]

Goodbye my lover

Leah Williamson X Reader (y/n)

I suggest to listen to this song: goodbye my lover by James Blunt.

⚠️Warning ⚠️ Angst, sad. The baby's picture makes sense but it's not related to sadness story with the baby.

"Y/n this can't continue like this, things have changed a lot and I think the best thing for us is to get divorced"... Leah said very seriously while y/n's tears began to form around her eyes.

"If that's what you want, that's fine, but let it be clear that I wanted to fight against everything and be able to make you and the little one happy" I said between sobs. To tell the truth, my mental health was in shit, in the deepest hole, and the fact that I now have to go through a divorce makes it much worse. What worries me most lately is my physical health has also worsened and Leah's anger towards me makes our friends hate me, not to mention my job at the club. It is more than logical that I will not be able to continue there.

Flashback

"Hey y/n, I want to talk to you about something, please come with me to the office," Jonas says calmly, like always. Once in the office "what I wanted to tell you is that as a club we are not going to tolerate any type of bad behavior not only at the level of colleagues and even less tolerate how you emotionally affect Leah and your son, we understand that you are going through hard times but I insist, Your behavior has bothered the management, and much to my regret I have to tell you that we no longer want you to be part of this squad, we wish you luck in everything and you have today to take your things. Regarding your settlement, you will be effective in a couple of weeks with the respective compensation" says Jonas seriously. "But Jonas, my personal things here have nothing to do with it," I said, a little shocked because I didn't feel like there was a logical reason to kick me out. I got ready to pick up my things while the girls were at the gym and I went home.

What a bad taste all that had left in my mouth. Once at home, I sit on the couch and watch any boring series while it's dinner time. I know Leah is having dinner with Lia while I talk to my agent about what happened.

Hours later Leah arrives with the little one and I smiled when I saw him, so beautiful and he is only 3 months old. My little one. I reached out to pick up the child. "Leah, I assume you know what happened today?" I commented to her, a little upset but hiding it because of the baby. "Yes, I made the suggestion and I don't regret it," she says, super annoyed. "But why did you do it?" I say a bit borderline. "Your life is getting out of your hands and you're not doing anything, this can't go on like this, I don't even want to see you in this house anymore. You know what? take your things and leave. Don't come back, eveeeer..."

End of the flashback

And here I am, in a park with the car parked while I think about what I'm going to do considering that she didn't even let me take out a coat or my wallet and my cell phone is about to turn off. While my mind was assimilating what was happening to me, I felt a very strong pain in my chest but I deduced that it was due to the stress of the situation. "When I thought I had it all, I ended up ruining it" "I'm worthless" "I couldn't take care of my family" "I'm sure she has someone else" "Will I ever see my child again?" "Arsenal realized that I was a failure as a footballer and decided to kick me out" "where will I go if I don't have anyone" "the girls at the club surely bow down to the captain" and more thoughts circulated through my mind as I cried and was consumed by the cold. It was clear that Leah's car had the best heating.

I decided to take the reins and go to a hotel and that has been 3 months ago. I can't stop thinking about how everyone is doing, the child, my wife or well, ex-wife, Amanda, Jacob, and all the people I appreciate even though they don't like me right now. I see my name in trashy magazines, that I take drugs, that I'm a slut, a drunk, etc. And the truth is that my behavior is erratic because most times during the day I am overthinking and I am attacked by remorse that leaves me at my lowest and so asleep. As if she were gone. I get a message from Leah...

My all and more <3

Y/n I need you to come home so I can serve you with the divorce papers so we can decide custody of the child.

I read the message with great sadness because that was not what I wanted for my little one. I have always idealized a happy family with everything it implies. How wrong I was.

I head to Leah's house and see a car in the garage that I've never seen before, nor did it belong to any girl at the club.

I rang the bell and a girl comes out with Sage in her arms "hello, good, eh, is Leah here?" "Are you the babysitter?" I ask timidly and softly. "No, you must be y/n her ex-wife?" "My pleasure, I'm Sophie, Leah's new partner, come into the living room and she'll come down," she tells me, between annoyed and angry. I head to the living room of what was once my home. "Hey Sophie, can I hold Sage?" She said calmly. "Of course not, Leah has given me orders not to do it" she tells me a little harshly. "Leah what?" "Girl, I'm the little one's mother and I have the same rights as her, you're crazy, let me take the little one please" "no y/n, you don't understand" and she goes with the baby to the second floor.

Leah comes down and looks quite upset.

"Hello y/n, as I told you in the message, here are the documents, sign them and you are free, what do you think about custody?" She says so calmly and taciturnly that it seems strange to me. I feel dizzy and with the same incessant pain in my chest, I want this to end now "whatever you think is appropriate, in the end you are the one who lives with him, but I want to see the baby" I said seriously. "You're not going to see it, and I think you should give me full custody, since I see that you don't even have a job, there's no point in being the perfect mom when you haven't even been able to maintain that," she tells me angrily. I feel more dizzy than before "You're absolutely right, apparently the baby wants a lot of Sophie and I'm no longer relevant to this family" I said a little hurt by the whole situation. "I'm going to let you see the baby today while you sign everything and then you forget about us," Leah says as she calls Sophie. Once I have Sage in my arms, I pamper him, give him kisses, hugs and gestures of love that will never come back. While I'm with the little one I feel like I'm slowly running out of air but I play dumb so I don't have to leave and raise suspicions about what's happening. The only person who knows is Lucy and Ona for obvious reasons. "Leah, can you bring me a glass of water please?" I said very slowly so she wouldn't notice my body discomfort. When she approaches with the glass I prepare to take it and she tells me in a worried tone "you look a little pale, are you okay?" "Yes, of course, I'm just a little tired, this child is very big and doesn't stop" "It's been a while since he was just born, I can't believe it" I say between nostalgia, sadness, concern for everything that is happening to me. "Oh okay" Leah tells me very calmly.

I feel a very strong puncture on the left side of my body, in my arm exactly. And the most sensible decision I make is to hand the child to Leah and prepare to leave. "Well Leah, it's time to go. I want you to know that you are doing very well as a mother. I know that the child will have a good education and upbringing. I would have liked to be a part of everything a little more but hey, that's life. And I hope you forgive me for not being enough. I know I never was. I hope with all my heart that your plans work out for you and you can be everything you set out to be" I say with labored breathing, tears but mostly because of the pain in the chest and arm that makes it impossible for me to stay upright. "It's a shame that everything ended like this, thank you for signing and for thinking about the little one's well-being," she says happily, as if he had lifted a weight off her shoulders. At that moment I noticed the hindrance I was causing to her. Not even 3 months and she had already found another one. I thought that while I moved my left arm and wrist to see if the pain would go away a little, nothing. I get up and go to the baby, I give him a kiss and wipe the tears from my eyes, I try to appear calm that I don't have inside.

And that's when the puncture makes me double over, but I try to hide it while I get in the car to head to my hotel. Which I can't because once I'm sitting behind the wheel I get more punctures in my heart and my breathing decreases drastically. For me it could have been an hour or five, the truth is I wasn't paying attention. What is true is that when I finally manage to get going, my heart feels strange, I was sweating as if I had played 90 more games, I felt tight, everything was burning. My neck, my back, my head, everything hurt and I was spinning. I felt strange, like I was in another body, my body is generally healthy. What was the purpose of all this, having depression, getting divorced, losing my son, my wife, missing the baby's first months, where he doesn't even consider me his mother. Losing my job, my friends, my club, my football. I couldn't take it anymore. I don't know how but I managed to get to the hotel and I feel like I'm on the verge of something strong, my heart hurts too much and not just because of the losses, physically too. And a lot. I'm starting to notice that my back is falling asleep, my arms feel weak. I decided to call the only person who knows what to do "come on Lucy, answer gal, damn it" I say to myself when I see that she doesn't answer me. I look at the clock and see the time is 3 in the morning. I know I'm having a massive heart attack but I can't do anything, I can't move. I call Leah and she answers me super angry "what do you want y/n?" "I wanted to hear your voice one last time, I'm sorry things ended like this, I wish you the best" I said, choked by pain. "You look strange, are you on drugs or something?" She says upset. "No, no. Forget it, I shouldn't have called you, it might be too late (not referring the hour but the life)" I said in a small voice. And I hung up and turned off the phone. I lay flat on the bed and fell unconscious with the only memory of an angry Leah and a wasted life.

#woso #lionesses #woso x reader #woso imagines #woso imagine #england lionesses #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson #arsenal women

[soulaires]

Love, Is this a prank?

pairings: Aaron Warner x F!Reader

Summary: five times you pranked your husband, aaron warner, and the one time he pranked you back.

warnings: fluff, mention of killing someone, ooc (?) Idk i think thats it. Lmk if i missed any!

« words: 3,957 ┇ao3┇reblogs are appreciated! »

🪩:: voicemail ; read my other aaron warner fics here.

authors note: here’s another fic for y’all warner whores 🫶 thank you for 50 followers!! Love you all :) and also bold text means that the message comes from you while italics text means it’s from Aaron.

Prank #1 𖦹 ₊˚.

It was a warm, sunny Saturday morning, and you had decided to run some errands. As you were getting ready to head out, you couldn't resist the urge to play a little prank on your husband, Aaron Warner. He had been working long hours lately, and you thought a bit of light-hearted mischief might bring a smile to his face.

You quickly gathered three small Ken dolls you had stolen away from James and arranged them strategically on the hood of your car. With a mischievous grin, you sent your husband a text that read,

_______

My beloved 🫶

baby

Help

3 guys won't get off my car

_______

Aaron was in the middle of a conference meeting when his phone buzzed. He glanced at the message and his expression darkened as he read it. He quickly excused himself from the meeting, not bothering to say something. His protective instincts kicked into high gear.

He was more worried about your well-being, and Gods, if something happened to you, he would rain hell. Even if it's just a small touch on your hair.

Without a second thought, Aaron rushed to the bedroom to grab his machete, a weapon he kept for safety purposes. He didn't know what was going on outside, but the idea of three strangers sitting on your car infuriated him. He was ready to confront them and ensure your safety.

You stifled a giggle, knowing that Aaron's protective instincts would lead him to take swift action.

Moments later, the front door swung open, and Aaron stormed out, his machete in hand. His face was a mask of fury, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any sign of trouble. When his gaze fell on your car, he saw the three small figures on the hood.

Confusion washed over his anger as he realized that they weren't real people. He lowered the machete, his brow furrowing as he took in the scene. It didn't take long for him to put two and two together, and he turned to you, a mix of amusement and annoyance in his eyes.

You couldn't help but burst into laughter at the sight of his bewildered expression. Tears streamed down your face as you clutched your stomach, trying to catch your breath between fits of giggles.

Aaron's lips twitched into a reluctant smile as he shook his head. He couldn't stay mad for long, especially when he saw how hard you were laughing.

He approached you, his machete still in hand but now pointed downwards in a non-threatening manner.

"Love, what's going on here?" he asked, his voice a mixture of amusement and mild exasperation.

Wiping away tears of laughter, you managed to compose yourself enough to explain. "It was just a prank, Aaron. I thought it would be funny to see your reaction."

Aaron sighed and tucked the machete safely away, his stern expression softening. "You got me good," he admitted, shaking his head.

He crossed his arms and shook his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his lips, “my love, I got worried.” He said.

You giggled and reached out to take his hand. "I'm sorry, love. I couldn't resist pulling a little prank."

He chuckled and pulled you into his arms, pressing a gentle kiss to your cheek.

"You need to stop hanging out with kishimoto," he said with a fond smile. You only laughed at that.

“I love you, you know,"

Aaron said, his voice soft and sincere as he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You snuggled closer to him, feeling grateful for the bond you shared.

"I love you too, even when you're ready to kill someone over a prank."

He chuckled, planting a sweet kiss on your lips, his love for you shining in his eyes.

"Especially then,"

he replied, his arms wrapped around you in a warm and protective embrace.

—————

Prank #2 𖦹 ₊˚.

It was a quiet evening, and you had decided to treat your husband, Aaron Warner, to a homemade dinner. As you worked diligently in the kitchen, you couldn't help but smirk as you concocted a mischievous plan. You would prank Aaron with an overly salty soup and see how he reacted.

You knew Aaron had an excellent poker face, but you were determined to make him crack. As you stirred the soup, you added an excessive amount of salt, enough to make it nearly inedible.

With a wicked grin, you carried the steaming bowl of soup to the dining table where Aaron was patiently waiting. He smiled warmly as you set the bowl in front of him.

"Here you go, love," you said sweetly, suppressing a mischievous twinkle in your eye. "My homemade soup just for you."

Aaron took a spoonful and brought it to his lips. His face remained remarkably composed, but you could see a faint twitch in his jaw as he struggled to keep his expression neutral.

"It tastes good, my love," he said, his voice steady, though you could sense a hint of hesitation. "But it's a little bit salty."

Your heart skipped a beat as you tried to hold back a triumphant grin. "Salty? It's not really that salty," you replied, your tone casual.

Determined to see if Aaron would break character, you decided to call in reinforcements. You dialed Kenji's number and invited him over, mentioning that you wanted him to taste your homemade soup.

Kenji arrived promptly, looking curious as he took a seat at the dining table. You offered him a spoonful of the soup, watching his reaction carefully.

Kenji took a cautious sip and then froze, his eyes widening in disbelief. He glanced at you, then back at Aaron, trying his hardest to keep it together. "What the fuck? Are you trying to kill our kidney stones? That's so salty!" he exclaimed.

You couldn't help but chuckle at Kenji's dramatic response. You turned to Aaron, expecting him to back you up. "See, it's not that salty, right?"

Aaron winced and shrugged his shoulders, "It's a bit salty, love."

You shook your head incredulously, feeling a pang of doubt. Could Aaron really taste the excessive saltiness, or was he playing along too well?

In a last-ditch effort to prove your point, you decided to call Juliette over. She arrived with her usual grace and took a seat at the table, accepting a spoonful of the soup.

She savored the bite and then smiled warmly. "It's not salty? It's good," she declared.

Kenji and Aaron shared a knowing look, and you couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. The prank had gone on long enough.

"It was just a prank, guys!" you confessed, unable to contain your amusement any longer. "I added extra salt to see if Aaron would say anything."

Kenji burst into laughter, his earlier outrage replaced by amusement. "Woah, Princess I thought you were trying to sabotage my taste buds."

Aaron chuckled, shaking his head. "You almost had me convinced, love. Well played."

��————

Prank #3 𖦹 ₊˚.

The sun was setting, casting a warm, golden hue over the evening sky as you sat in the cozy living room, your phone in hand. You couldn't resist the urge to play a little prank on your husband, Aaron Warner. He had been working tirelessly, and you thought a playful jest might lighten the mood.

With a mischievous grin, you began typing out a text message.

________

My Beloved 🫶

Baby, guess what

I got my Brazilian wax today

Oh?

Shush, as I was saying,

It was so expensive.

I see where this is going.

I already sent you money, darling :)

No I’m just telling you that It was expensive

Oh, so you don’t need the money?

No

I thinks it’s bc he’s always busy

So he charges more

like everyone Wants to book w him

He???

Where’s Diane?

she was sick so jake did my wax

Jake?????

Can men do that job?

Yeah??

Jake was really nice and sweet

I’ll kill jake.

How’d you even know he was ‘nice’ and ‘sweet’

Cause he was being gentle and complimenting me

I get it why he was so expensive lol

What?

Complimenting you?

Yeah, he talks me through it.

Talk you through it???

Love.

This is ridiculous.

Is this a joke?

No?

He was really sweet

He’s not sweet.

I’m sweet.

He’s an asshole.

How would you know that 🤨

My love.

You should have let me do it.

Do what? 😂 lol

Wax you.

You don’t even know how to

Yes, I do.

Wash and dry the are, warm the wax, avoid retinoid cream, apply the wax, apply cloth strip and then remove the cloth strip.

Easy.

Jake probably did not wash it or dry it properly.

I bet he used retinoid cream.

Amateur.

WHAT 😭

Since when did you become a waxing professional?

Since now.

———

Aaron's brow furrowed, his expression turning noticeably jealous and irritated. He set aside his phone, not bothering to see what you replied.

Hours later, when you finally arrived home, you found Aaron sitting on the couch, his arms crossed, and a pout on his face. He was clearly still miffed about the prank.

You walked over to him, your heart filled with affection for your sulking husband. "Aaron," you began, "it was just a prank. I didn't actually get Brazilian wax from anyone."

He glanced at you, his pout still firmly in place. "Oh," he grumbled, but his annoyance was slowly giving way to amusement.

You couldn't resist the urge to cuddle him, wrapping your arms around him as you pressed a loving kiss to his cheek. "I'm sorry for teasing you," you said sincerely. "I promise I won't prank you like that again." You added, which is clearly a lie.

Aaron finally cracked a smile, unable to stay upset any longer. "Alright, you win this round," he conceded, pulling you closer to him.

—————

Prank #4 𖦹 ₊˚.

You couldn't help but smirk as you flipped through the pages of a book in the cozy living room. Your husband, Aaron Warner, sat across from you, engrossed in his own work, as he often was during the evenings. The soft glow of the lamp cast a warm light on the room, creating a tranquil atmosphere.

"Hey, bro," you chimed in, breaking the silence.

Aaron, absorbed in his reading, merely scrunched up his face, a faint, bemused smile playing at the corners of his lips. He chose not to acknowledge your playful term of endearment, instead continuing to focus on his work.

You bit your lip to suppress a giggle and decided to take it up a notch. "Bro, can you pass me the remote?"

This time, Aaron raised an eyebrow but still didn't respond. He adjusted his glasses and turned a page in his book, clearly ignoring your attempt to get his attention.

You chuckled to yourself, knowing you were pushing his patience. But you couldn't resist teasing him, just a little bit more. "Bro, I need your help in the kitchen."

That did it. Aaron finally looked up from his book, his expression shifting from bemusement to a warning look. He arched an eyebrow, his gaze drilling into yours. "I'm not your 'bro' I'm your husband," he declared, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer, and it bubbled out of you in a melodious cascade. "I'm sorry, bro," you said, still grinning.

He let out an exasperated sigh, his lips quirking into an amused smile despite himself. "You're impossible," he muttered, shaking his head.

________

The soft ambiance of the upscale restaurant created a romantic atmosphere as you and your husband, Aaron Warner, settled into your table for dinner. The dim lighting, soft jazz playing in the background, and the anticipation of a delicious meal made for a perfect setting for a memorable night out.

As you perused the menu, you couldn't help but hatch a mischievous plan. A playful prank that you were convinced would bring a smile to Aaron's face. You decided to refer to him as "bro" and "boyfriend" during your interactions with the server, just to see how he would react.

With a sly grin, you waited for the server to approach. "I'll have the salmon, and my boyfriend here," you said, gesturing towards Aaron, "will have the steak."

Aaron's brows furrowed slightly as he glanced at you, but he decided to play along, thinking it was a harmless joke. "Yes, the steak is fine," he replied, a bemused smile on his face.

The server nodded and jotted down your orders, seemingly oblivious to your prank. You couldn't help but giggle quietly, delighted with your cleverness.

As the evening progressed, you continued to drop the occasional "bro" or "boyfriend" into your conversations, each time with a mischievous glint in your eye. Aaron, for the most part, scrunched up his face in mock annoyance but kept his composure.

However, after the third instance of your prank, his patience began to wane. He raised an eyebrow, his gaze fixed on you with a warning look that hinted at the limits of his tolerance.

You chuckled nervously, realizing that you might have pushed the joke too far. "Alright, alright, I'll stop," you whispered, leaning in closer to him.

Aaron's lips twitched with the faintest hint of a smile, and he nodded in approval. The remainder of the dinner was filled with pleasant conversation and shared laughter, all the while you refrained from any further pranks.

After finishing your meal, you left the restaurant hand in hand, the evening still full of promise. But as the night wore on, you noticed a shift in Aaron's mood. He became quieter, his laughter less frequent, and his responses to your attempts at conversation grew increasingly subdued.

"Is everything alright, Aaron?" you asked, concern lacing your voice.

He glanced at you with a hint of irritation before responding tersely, "I'm fine."

You knew better than to press him when he was in this mood, so you decided to give him some space. You retreated to the living room, leaving him to his thoughts in the bedroom.

The following morning, Aaron was still distant. He responded to your greetings with curt nods and monosyllabic answers, his attention firmly focused on his work. It was as if the playful terms of endearment from the previous night had left a lingering mark on his mood.

You couldn't bear to see him like this, so you made an effort to engage him in conversation throughout the day, hoping to lift his spirits. However, he remained withdrawn, lost in his own thoughts.

It wasn't until dinnertime that Aaron finally spoke up. "You do realize that I am your husband, right?"

You scrunched up your nose, confused, "um..yeah?"

"Then why did you keep addressing me your 'boyfriend' last night?'

"Aaron, I'm so sorry," you said sincerely, reaching out to touch his hand.

He pulled his hand away, his expression one of mild indignation. "I'm not your 'bro' or 'boyfriend,' I'm your beloved husband," he declared, his voice laced with mock seriousness.

You reached across the coffee table to take his hand in yours. "I promise, no more 'bro' or 'boyfriend' for today."

He sighed dramatically, but his fingers tightened around yours. "Very well, my mischievous love." you laughed at the nickname.

"You can't get rid of me that easily, my love." He teased.

The night ended with a loving embrace, and as you drifted off to sleep in each other's arms, you couldn't help but think how fortunate you were to have Aaron Warner as your husband, your beloved, and your one true love.

—————

Prank #5 𖦹 ₊˚.

The morning sun filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow in the room as you and Aaron Warner prepared for the day. Aaron had an important meeting to attend, and he was already running late. He stood by the doorway, dressed impeccably in his suit, ready to leave.

"Okay, bye, love," he said, his voice soft and filled with affection as he leaned down to kiss your forehead. His lips lingered for a moment, and he whispered, "I love you."

You hummed in response, your attention momentarily occupied by the task at hand. You knew he expected you to reciprocate, but you decided to play a little game. A teasing smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you continued with what you were doing.

Aaron raised an eyebrow, waiting for you to respond with those three cherished words. When you remained silent, he tried again, his gaze fixed on you. "I love you, my love," he repeated, his voice filled with anticipation.

You glanced up at him, a mischievous twinkle in your eye, and replied, "Ok, bye."

Aaron's face fell, and he couldn't hide the disappointment in his eyes. He had hoped for a heartfelt response, but instead, he got a playful dismissal. He pouted, refusing to give up.

"I love you," he said once more, his tone tinged with determination as he stared at you, expecting you to say it back.

You chuckled at his persistence and continued with your task. "Ok," you replied, teasingly, "I'm not stopping you."

But Aaron didn't move. He remained rooted in the doorway, a stubborn look on his face. "I'm not leaving," he declared.

You looked up in surprise, genuinely confused. "Huh? I thought you were leaving for your meeting."

His expression softened as he gazed at you. "Not when you're mad at me."

You blinked, realizing that he had misunderstood your playful banter. "I'm not mad at you, Aaron," you reassured him, setting aside what you were doing to give him your full attention.

He sighed, a hint of relief in his eyes, but there was still a trace of uncertainty. "But you're not saying 'I love you' back," he pointed out.

You couldn't hold back your laughter any longer. It was all in good fun, but you could see that Aaron had taken it seriously. You stood up and walked over to him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"It's a joke, hon!" you exclaimed, grinning at him. "I love you! Now, go! You're already late."

Aaron's face broke into a smile as he realized he had been played. He hugged you tightly, pressing a loving kiss to your lips. "Not Funny," he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

“I’m staying.” He said.

“c’mon you can’t just cancel the meeting, darling” you replied with a teasing smile.

“Actually, I can. I'm the boss, love. Remember” he then replied, matching your teasing smile.

you then both settled in for a cozy day together. He canceled his meeting, and the two of you cuddled on the couch, watching movies and enjoying each other's company with your husband who kept whispering sweet nothings and I love you’s in your ear.

—————

+1

The cinema had been showing a late-night movie, and you and your husband, Aaron Warner, had decided to catch it together. It had been a long week, and the idea of a cozy night out was too tempting to resist. Little did you know that this night would turn into an unexpected adventure.

The two of you settled into your seats, the dimmed lights and the sound of hushed whispers creating a perfect atmosphere for the film. As the movie began, you both found yourselves engrossed in the story, occasionally sharing a quiet laugh or a whispered comment.

However, the day's fatigue began to catch up with you, and the comfort of the cinema seats didn't help matters. Gradually, you felt your eyelids grow heavy, and before you knew it, you had fallen asleep during the movie.

Sometime later, Aaron woke up with a start. He blinked at the screen and then checked his watch, only to find that it was well past 3 AM. The cinema was dark, and the movie had ended. Panic set in as he realized that the mall was likely closed, and you were both trapped inside.

A mischievous idea began to form in Aaron's mind. He couldn't help but think of the pranks you had pulled on him in the past, and this was the perfect opportunity for payback. Quietly, he grabbed your phone, noticing that it was still on and unlocked.

With a sly grin, Aaron changed the time on your phone to 11 AM and placed it back beside you. He then leaned over and gently shook your shoulder to wake you up.

You stirred, slowly blinking your eyes open and letting out a sleepy yawn. "What's going on?" you mumbled, still disoriented from your nap.

Aaron, his act perfectly convincing, replied, "Wake up, love. It's already 11 AM. We need to leave."

You glanced at your phone, which now read 11 AM. However, something felt off. It was still dark outside, and the cinema was eerily quiet. "Why is everything closed?" you asked, confusion creeping in.

Aaron kept his expression composed and reassuring. "It's Sunday," he explained calmly. "The mall is usually empty this early on Sundays. Come on, let's go."

You furrowed your brow but trusted Aaron's explanation. You gathered your belongings and followed him outside the cinema. As you walked through the mall, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was amiss. The lack of people, the darkness outside, and the empty shops all added to your growing sense of unease.

"Why is it so dark?" you asked, your voice tinged with anxiety.

Aaron maintained his charade. "It’s dark when it’s sundays here, love," he replied, his tone soothing.

You checked your phone again, which still displayed 11 AM, even though it felt like the middle of the night. Doubt gnawed at you, but you couldn't pinpoint what was wrong.

As you continued through the mall, your unease grew, and you couldn't help but question the situation. "This doesn't feel right, Aaron," you admitted, clutching his hand tightly.

He glanced at you, his expression softening with concern. "It's okay, love. Sometimes malls can be a bit eerie when they're empty. We'll be out of here soon."

You nodded, trying to calm your racing heart. But as you approached the mall's main entrance, you realized the truth. The security gates were closed, and the mall was locked up tight.

"Wait, Aaron," you said, your voice trembling. "Why are the gates closed? We can't get out."

Aaron turned to you with a sheepish grin, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Gotcha!" he exclaimed, revealing the prank.

You stared at him in disbelief, a mixture of surprise and annoyance washing over you. "You pranked me?" you asked incredulously.

He chuckled, pulling you into a tight embrace. "I had to get you back for all those pranks you've pulled on me," he confessed.

You couldn't help but laugh, despite the initial shock. "You got me good," you admitted, shaking your head.

Aaron smiled, relieved that you took it well. "I promise I'll make it up to you," he said, pressing a loving kiss to your forehead.

As you both waited for mall security to let you out, you couldn't help but admire Aaron's clever prank. It had been an unexpected adventure, and it was moments like these that added a touch of excitement and humor to your relationship. In the end, you couldn't be mad at him for too long, and you were already thinking about how to plan your next prank in revenge.

(Aaron Warner) tag list 🏷 : @ravisinghs-wife @aishaleblanc

If you want to be added or remove from the tag list plz let me know 🫶

#reader insert #aaron warner #aaron warner x reader #shatter me series #aaron warner x you #shatter me #aaron warner anderson #aaron warner x y/n #riewrites 🫀 #prank #husband Aaron warner #shatter me x reader #shatter me imagine #aaron warner imagine #fanfic

[ninasmovingcastle]

Can I request a Modern!AU where the Reader comes home to Scara crying in his sleep? 🥺

-🍄

what a wonderful idea anon. you think like me fr

your wish is my command love !! <3

promise - wanderer

in which you come home to your beloved kuni crying in his sleep

modern!wanderer x gender neutral!reader

word count: 719

content warnings: he overthinks and sort of guilt trips if you squint

↳ you were held up at work and didn't get a chance to call him to let him know you'd be running late 

↳ he immediately assumed that you don't love him anymore, and that you're gone for good. 

gone, just like the others. gone, gone, gone. you were leaving him just like all the others had, he was sure. 

kuni tried to distract himself from the immense loneliness that swallowed him when you weren't around. he wanted to tell himself that you'd be back soon, but in his heart he instinctively felt that you would never come back to him.

the tv program that he had put on while waiting for time to pass was simply white noise. he couldn't stop checking his phone, despite seeing the night slipping away from him. he constantly refreshed his inbox, desperate to see a notification from you pop up. 

he lay in bed motionless, entirely defeated and engulfed in betrayal once again. he stopped his perpetual refreshing of his messages and grabbed your pillow from your side of the bed. he hugged it to his chest, taking in what he had left of you. 

it's nothing. he'll just move on, like how he did with all the others in his past. as he tries to comfort himself he finds tears stinging the corners of his intense indigo eyes. 

i'm tough, kuni reassures himself. it's no big deal. 

his tears begin to overflow from his eyes, despite him putting forth his best effort to suppress them. 

you're still not home. you hate him for sure, you're breaking up with him in the worst way possible. you're doing this on purpose, you're hitting him right in his weak spot. 

his invasive thoughts keep him awake for much longer, until his eyes become more tired than he is. still clutching your pillow, he begins to drift in and out of sleep.

but even sleep could not bring him the relief of happiness. he dreamt of you complaining about him to your coworkers, letting them read all his messages to you, mocking him, poking fun at all his pain. he stayed asleep, seeing vivid images of how much you obviously hate him. 

it was hours later that your key finally turned in the lock. it was not loud enough to wake kuni up, but he shifted around, hugging the pillow closer, wishing it was you, imagining it was you. 

you took your shoes off to let him sleep as peacefully as possible, turning down the volume of the show that he put on to keep him company. his phone was still glowing beside him in the dim room, open to his recent messages. checking your own phone, you found dozens of unopened desperate texts from him. 

sitting on the edge of the bed, you began to gently shake him awake. his body still twitched with an occasional sniffle here and there; he had cried his eyes out and then some. you smoothed your hand through his hair, whispering his name softly.

"kuni... kuni...?"

he slowly opens his eyes, squinting as he tries to make out the figure in front of him. he perks up as soon as he sees you, but his excitement soon dissolves into superficial anger. he turns away from you.

"where the hell were you?" he demands. his voice is breaking again, yet he knows that he physically cannot cry any more. 

you explain that you were caught up in a late meeting and that you were away from your phone. 

"next time, i'll make sure you know," you reassured him, your soothing voice pulling him closer. 

kuni starts to sit up on the bed, letting the tear-soaked pillow hit the floor. he looks at you, still in your work clothes, with adoration in its purest form.

"next time, you just quit your job," he replies sarcastically. 

he leans into you, letting you hold him. he makes you swear that you won't scare him like that again, locking pinkies to prove it. you maneuver your hand around his and press a kiss to his knuckles. 

"i won't leave you," you promise. 

#scaramouche #wanderer #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche fluff #scaramouche angst #scaramouche comfort #wanderer fluff #wanderer x reader #wanderer angst #wanderer comfort #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #scaramouche imagines #wanderer imagines #i love torturing myself #haha make me shut up challenge #🍄 anon ✌︎('ω')✌︎

[angel1cjules]

apple pie

"i'll never let your tears cause rain" summary - just jk being so gentle and consoling oc with his demeanor <3 word count - genre - just pure fluff <3 and consoling warnings - oc is a bit of a crybaby, jk is so big on kissing, whiny reader, snuggling a/n - here's something for you guys while i finish writing forbidden love pt.5!! masterlist ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ You watch as the rain outside gently falls upon the glass windows, coating them with its purity. You glance at the clock. 5:30pm it reads. You get up and decide to bake Jungkook an apple pie when he comes home. You march over to the fridge and grab some apples and start slicing them. You see that Bam's sitting at your feet as you slice them, hoping for a slice. "Oh Bammie. You'll obviously get one cause you're such a good boy" you say as you toss a piece to him. Bam quickly gulped it down and went back to the couch to sleep. Once done, you follow a recipe to bake an apple pie. You gently fold the pastry dough over the apple filling and put it in the oven. A rustling sound from the door makes you flinch and look towards it. "Hey love" Jungkook greets you as you ran to him and hugged him. "Someone missed me hm?"he teases as he hugs you back. "I did. And I'm baking you an apple pie!" you announce. "Ooh! Let me see" he says as he ducks down to the oven and peers at it. "I tried." you add. "Looks good, love." he appreciates. You reply with a shy smile. Bam runs over to his daddy and wags his tail. "Oh look, there's my good boy!" Jungkook praises Bam by petting his head.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

An hour later, you and Jungkook wake up to the sound of the smoke detector going off. You rush to the kitchen just to see the smoke coming out of the oven. Your eyes fill with tears as you attempt to rescue the pie but it's of no use. The pie has turned into a lump of charcoal.

Jungkook comes in to find you crying, your head on the marble counter between your hands. The 'pie' being placed near you. "Oh love... It's fine darling, we all make mistakes." He tries to console you, taking you into his arms.

"I-I can't even bake a stupid apple pie!" You manage to say in between your sobs. "Baby, it's fine! I'll buy you an apple pie right now." Jungkook offered. You bring yourself to face him, eyes staring at his pink, rosy lips.

Jungkook doesn't miss the chance and kisses you. Without breaking the kiss, he carries you over to the couch. You break the kiss in search of air.

You plant your head onto Jungkook's chest as he orders you an apple pie and ramyeon. "Let's Netflix and chill yeah?" he suggests with a smirk plastered across his face.

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

a/n: my first drabble eeeeeeeere

#jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bangtan #jeon jungkook

[storydays]

Welcome to Heaven P1

(3rd POV)

*Dream Start*

"(Y/N)...." sang a masculine voice, making (Y/N) gasp and look around. That voice..he  know that voice anywhere. "(Y/N)...."  the voice called again. The prince looked around realizing he was on the  streets of Hell, and started running past other demons who were almost frozen in place,. "I-I'm coming!" he called, running as the voice sang for him again. The mismatched eyed demon panted as he came to a clearing with a singular figure facing away from him. 

"There you are, (Y/N)." The figure turned around to reveal (Y/N)'s previous lover, Archer with a serene smile. 

(Y/N)'s eyes widen, and he felt the world stop around him. "A-Archer?" 

The  red fox demon smiled and held a paw out towards the prince. "Come on, ya slowpoke!" called the Cantabrigian demon. "Wait for me, Archie!" (Y/N) tried running towards him but his feet were stuck to the floor. 

"(Y/N)!" Angel cried, making the prince look up in alarm. "Tesoro?"

Suddenly his two lovers were  killed in different ways: The white furred spider was stabbed through the heart, killing him instantly. Archie  was sliced in half, just like he was all those years ago. 

A choked noise escaped (YN)'s throat as he met sharp lime green eyes before the gray hooded figure raised their spear and charged at the frozen prince. 

*End Dream*

(Y/N) gasped sharply, sitting up in bed, heart racing. Mismatched eyes looked around the room anxiously before noticing Angel laying on his stomach, face smushed against their pillows. Heart still racing, the blond prince carefully slipped out of bed, and snuck out to his balcony, closed the door, and lit a joint. 

He hadn't needed to smoke in a while, but that literal nightmare shook him to his core. (Stop at 58 secs)

The prince jumped feeling arms wrap around his waist and felt Angel's head press into his back. "Sorry, did I wake you?" (Y/N) sniffed, wiping his tears away. "No, bambino, but why are you crying?" He asked, pulling the blond into his lap. "Nothing, go back to sleep." (Y/N) said, stubbornly, putting out the joint in his hand. 

"Okay, we can sit together until you're ready." replied the spider. That simple statement was the straw that broke the camel's back, and (Y/N) turned around into Angel's chest fluff and started sobbing, gripping onto his fiance with a desperation that Angel had never seen before. 

Angel's mismatched eyes widen at the initial shock before wrapping 3 arms around the prince, one hand running through the blond hair. "Let it out, amore mio. I'm right here." The Italian stood with the prince in his arms, carried him to the bed, and laid himself down, not letting go of the emotional blond, not once.  Angel started humming a song his mother sang when he was a kid, and smiled softly as (Y/N) drifted off to sleep, clinging to his fur, even his sleep.

"I'm right here."

*A few hours later with Chaggie*

"Okay, I have my warm weather clothes, and my cold weather clothes. I have a light jacket, flak jacket, and rain jacket. Wait, does it rain in Heaven?" Charlie rambled excitedly. "Charlie," chuckled Vaggie, rolling her eye, "You're only going to Heaven for a few hours." 

"Vaggie, we are only going to Heaven for a day. And I just want to be prepared. It's our last chance to convince Heaven a soul can be redeemed." Charlie smiled. 

"Yeah, I wish I could come, sweetie, but I have that thing..." Vaggie trailed off. "What thing?" Charlie questioned, hands on her hips. "The thing with the...thing, um, fuck, gah, I'm such a bad liar."

"Vaggie, you're my partner. I need you there with me." Charlie held Vaggie's hand, looking at her hopefully. 

"Fine," sighed Vaggie, smiling as Charlie cheered, before pressing a kiss to the one eyed warrior's nose, sharing a loving look. 

*Downstairs* 

Angel burst into the foyer with a heavy sigh. "Oh, fuck." He leaned against a nearby wall, jumping as Nifty popped up from a nearby plant. "You look messy! What happened to you?" She giggled, looking him up down. "It's who tried to happen to me. And the answer is everyone..." Angel grumbled tried walking away before pausing in thought, "Twice!" He called, cracking his back as Nifty dusted him off. 

"Because I'm free now, dickbags think they can still use me as Val's toy. Fuckin' pieces of shits!" He grumbled, collapsing on the couch, face resting on (Y/N)'s thigh, a hand coming to rub his upper back. "Did you have a nice time in town, tesoro?" "Mmhmm, " hummed the spider as he turned on to his back, to look at the other's mismatched eyes. "Yep, and I've got a surprise for later, sweetness." Angel pressed a kiss to (Y/N)'s thigh before smirking as he twitched from the touch.

Everyone in the foyer yelped as an explosion echoed in the hotel. "Arghh! What the fuck is that wall?" groaned Angel hands covering his face."What up, hoes!" laughed a heavy Australian accented voice.

Angel suddenly perked up with a laugh, "Holy shit, Cherri Bomb? Long time no see, baby!" 

"Angie, you bitch! You been texting me depressing shit all day; figured we could tear shit up like old times." grinned the Cyclops, playfully punching Angel in his stomach. "It's been fuckin' forever! Here, hold this." She tossed a bomb over towards Charlie who panicked, tossing it back and forth, "Ah! Oh my God!"

"Nope, gimmie that." Vaggie grunted as she tossed the bomb out of the broken wall. "I love seein' ya, Cherri, but I'm too tired. I need to pass for a couple of hours before Sweet Cheeks and I go out for the evenin'."

Angel made a move to fall back onto(Y/N)'s lap when Cherri caught him by the back of his shirt. "Oho, you can sleep when you're double dead, fuckhead!" the Cyclops grinned as the spider looked down at her with a fond look. "Come on, what you really need to do is a recharge, a re invigoration, a re--" 

"Responsible night on the town!" Charlie chimed in with a big smile. "That is a great idea. Hi, Charlie." She introduced herself as Angel sat on the arm of the couch, yawning. "That's my wall that you just blew up. It's so nice to meet one of Angel's friends. Aagh, he never brings anyone around." Charlie hummed thoughtfully, missing the smirk between the two friends. 

"Wonder why?" snorted the blonde sinner sarcastically, arms crossed. "Yeah, me too. Anyway, Angel and everyone else have been working so hard, I think they deserve to have a little fun." 

"W-w-wait, they?" asked Cherri as Charlie grabbed everyone's attention. "Yeah. Hi, everyone! Angel and his friend are taking you all out for a night of fun and relaxation!" 

"Wait, I am only here for An---Ooh! Never mind. Let's go!" cheered the cyclops as (Y/N) sent her a huge stack of cash. Angel looked up at his fiance as he pressed a kiss on Angel's head. "Don't worry, Tesoro, the drinks are on me tonight. Have fun, and I'll be back in time for our plans." Angel quickly sat up and gave (Y/N) a chaste kiss before the prince got up to get ready to leave. 

"Grazie cara.(Thanks, babe.)"

"Anyway, the portal to Heaven should be opening right about..." "Now!" Charlie screamed in delight before she tossed Vaggie into the portal without a thought.  

"Bye!" she called, (Y/N) chuckling under his breath as he walked through.

Just as the portal closed, Sir Pentious finally came out of the kitchen, drinking a juice. When he saw Cherri, he spat his drink out. 

"Well, if it isn't my arch-nemesis!" He called with a dramatic flair, making Cherri roll her eye. "Have you come to meet your battle, Cherri Bomb?" 

"Apparently, I'm going out with Angel and I got to drag your sorry asses along." she shrugged, popping a piece of gum in her mouth. "O-Oh, you and me are going out, like, for fun? I, I didn't think this would ever happen. What do I do? What do I wear?" He asked, placing a hand on her shoulder, wincing as she crushed his hand. 

"Don't fuckin' touch me, you munted dickhead!"

*In Heaven*

"Vaggie, (Y/N), look at this place! It's so clean! Isn't that amazing!" gushed Charlie as she looked around. 

"Yep. Super cool. Heaven. Wow." deadpanned the one eyed woman, making (Y/N) raise an eyebrow at her. 

"Hiya! Welcome to Heaven!" called a perky angel as he popped from behind a podium. ""Can I get your names, please?"

"Oh! Uhh, uh, uh, Charlie Morningstar!" stuttered the princess. "Charlie Morningstar, hmm." Hummed the angel as he scrolled through his book. "I'm not seeing you on my list here. That's so odd. " 

"Well, our dad got us this meeting." (Y/N) spoke up, cringing at the angel's voice. "Oh, Dad! Okay." the angel replied as Charlie looked down. "Try Lucifer Morning....star." She said, hesitantly.

"Oh, fuck! Yeah. Hoooo, hehehe. Yikes, am I right?" He laughed akwardly. 

"No. No you aren't right." snapped (Y/N), glaring at the angel who was now eye level with them. "Are you sure you're in the right place, because I think you might be a little lost." 

"Oh, here we go." Vaggie rolled her eye. "No, uh..we're, we're here for a meeting." Charlie explained. 

"Saint Peter." called a melodic voice, making the group turn. "We can take it from here." a tall woman smiled as she and her companion changed forms and landed. 

Saint Peter bowed as the two beings approached. "Greetings, children of the Morningstar. I am Sera, the high Seraphim of Heaven. You are gifted to be here." 

The other being with Sera, squealed excitedly as she approached. 

"Hi! I'm Emily, the other Seraphim." (Y/N) and Charlie smiled at her enthusiasm. "Though, you can call me Em! Emmy, E, whatever you want. I go by whatever. Welcome to Heaven."

(Y/N) walked behind as Emily and Charlie dragged Vaggie into a tour. He looked around lesiurely, barely listening as Charlie rambled on, wincing softly at how bright everything is. 

Adam and Lute were enjoying a walk with one of their exorcist friends, who wore a mask over his face when suddenly they all froze before turning around."Holy fucking shit balls. Am I seeing who I think I'm seeing?" Adam asked Lute who glared at the princess who was now doing some weird crab walk. 

"What is she doing here? How did she even get up here?" snarled Lute. "Who cares? I'm handling this shit right now." The yellow eyed angel growled, starting to follow the group. "Wait, you want to start a fight on the promenade in front of everyone?" asked the figure in the mask, Cambridgian accent heavy. "Better than waiting for the fucking extermination." He snapped, before Lute grabbed him by his shirt and hushed him harshly. 

"Sir, what was the Seraphim's one rule?" she demanded. "Ughhhh, 'no one but the exorcists can know about the exterminations'. I know, fine. "Adam whined, drinking his drink. 

"Don't fucking shush me, bitch." He glared. 

"You should listen to your lieutenant, Adam." Sera snapped, appearing suddenly and making the two exorcists jump in fear. 

"Fuck, Sera! You can't sneak up on a guy like that, jeez." He replied.  "Your Highness, forgive me, but what are the hell spawn doing here?" asked Lute. 

"Well, you failed to control the demons unrest, and now Lucifer is involved. Setting up an audience for his misguided daughter." Sera rolled her eyes slightly. "I never would have agreed to your....yearly activites if I thought it would bring trouble to our doorstep. Keeping Heaven safe was my only reason for allowing it." 

"What do you want from me? I'm just one guy." Adam shrugged. 

"I want you to do whatever you need to do to keep this problem from getting any worse. Are we clear?" The seraphim leaned down to look into Adam's face as he grinned. 

"Yeah. Got it." He sighed.

*Back with Charlie*

"Okay, I love Heaven! Vaggie, did you see the ice cream shop? They had sprinkles made of rainbows." She squealed, flopping on the bed. 

"Those are just rainbow sprinkles." Vaggie replied boredly.

"Emily's going to take me to a zoo where all the animals are actually soft. You coming?" 

"Uh, I need a break. But hug a koala for me." Vaggie sat on their bed, smiling softly. 

"O.M.G. Can you imagine an actual koala? Ahh! See you later!" Charlie called before leaving. Vaggie sighed before groaning when a knock echoed in her ears. 

She opened the door to reveal Adam and Lute and their friend behind them. 

"Hey there, Vag-asaurus!" greeted Adam with a shit eating grin. 

"Charlie will be back soon. You need to get out now." Vaggie replied, as Adam came in anyway. 

"I'm not looking for the blonde, babe. I'm looking for you." "Why?" the Latina place her hands on her hips, eyebrow raised. 

"Maybe because you left the band. You tried for a solo career. Or I guess it's more of a solo career. But I guess it's more of a duet." Adam grinned leaning closer.

"I don't know what you're talking about." Vaggie replied, voice trembling slightly. 

"Do you really think I wouldn't recognize one of my top girls just cause you're out of uniform?" 

Vaggie's eye widen as she remembered her old life as an exorcist. "You were on the front lines. I wouldn't forget a bad bitch like you. It's why I named you after the best thing ever....Vagee." Adam hummed. 

"It's actually pronounced Vaggie." She scowled. 

"Mmmmm no! Anyway, you sure fucked up, didn't you?" Vaggie looked down as she remembered being wrongfully punished for letting a child go: She lost an eye, very painfully, and lost her wings and place in Heaven. "Sinful filth like you has no place in Heaven!" Lute growled before she and Adam walked away. 

"To think someone as worthless as you landed Lilth's little hottie. 'Grats on that, I guess." 

"Their love is vile and blasphemous." The two women glared at each other. "Hot as fuck, though. But I wonder what your bitch would think if she found out you are actually one of us. Hmm?" Adam smirked. 

"What do you want?" Vaggie asked through gritted teeth. "Simple: You work for me again, and at the hearing, you're going to help me shut this kindergarten snowflake bullshit down for good." 

"Never." 

"Oh, yeah. You know, that's totally cool. I guess I'll just tell little miss butterlfies and rainbows that she's been fucking someone who's killed thousands of her people. I'm  sure your relationship will be fine. See you in court!" The three Angels left, Lute with a smirk on her face. 

Vaggie put her head in her hands, heart racing. "Well," She gasped hearing (Y/N)'s voice, and sat up, seeing him leaning on the door, normally gentle eyes now glaring red at her. "I've had my suspicions....but hearing it come from their mouth's and you didn't deny not one word, confirms everything." He entered the room and slammed the door behind him. 

"Wait, you knew I was an exorcist? How?" Vaggie asked. "You have a giant X over your eye and wield an angelic spear. It's not rocket science." He rolled his eyes before his sword was suddenly pointed at her throat, making her freeze. 

"Vaggie, do you know how easy it'd be to kill you where you stand? To make you feel the pain you've inflicted onto thousands of my people?" He growled, fangs glinting in the light as Vaggie started shivering in fear. 

"But..in doing so, I'd be hurting Charlie and I love her too much to do that to her. You'd better be lucky that Charlie put her marking on you." Putting his sword away and taking a step back, (Y/N) sighed, running a hand through his hair. 

"I won't spill your secret, but it'd hurt Charlie less if she heard it from you, and not that dickwad." (Y/N) started to leave before pausing and turning to the ex-angel with a slightly sorrowful look on his face. 

"We're friends, Vaggie, but hurt her again, and not even her mate marking with save you from myself or our father."

With that final thought, he slammed the door and left Vaggie to her thoughts.

*In court*

Charlie groaned, seeing Adam and Lute and their mysterious fly into their seats. "Oh no, not him again!" "What up, baby!" sang Adam. "Saw that you went to my manager. Low blow, Karen." 

"We are gathered here today to determine whether or not a soul in Hell, can be redeemed into the heavenly realm by means of this Hazbin Hotel. Princess Morningstar?"

"Thank you, Seraphim." Charlie cleared her throat nervously, before starting to read from her index cards. " 'Webster's dictionary defines redemption as--'" 

"Objection! Lame and unoriginal!" Adam called. "Sustained. No further dictionary references, please." 

"Right, okay. Uh, uh...Uhhhh....Mmm." Charlie groaned, flipping through the cards, seeing multiple references. 

"If you have actual evidence, then show it already." Adam said, crossing his arm boredly.

"We have a patron right now who is making incredible progress." "Who?"  questioned the angel. "Angel Dust." Charlie replied confidently, not seeing (Y/N)'s flinch at the mention of his lover. He'd gotten so head over heals over the spider, and proposed, that he'd forgotten that Angel was working towards redemption....and they might be separated, forever. 

But...he couldn't deny Angel the chance for a better life, even if that means.....

(Y/N) shook his head before turning back to the meeting. "Oh, yeah. The porn demon. He's totally worth being redeemed." Adam blew a raspberry like a child. 

"Yeah, babe, and that talented mouth of his....ooh, so redemptious." (Y/N) sighed sensually, watching in satisfaction as the angels cringed, and Adam actually gagged.

"If you know so much, what do you think it takes to get into Heaven?" Charlie snapped, sending her brother a disgusted glare. "Ummm, w-w-well...Uhhhhh." 

"Aw, does the big bad Adam have nothing to say?" mocked the prince.

"Is everything alright, Adam?" Sera asked coldly, glaring at the yellow angel. "Give me a fucking minute, okay?" He snapped, pulling out a quill and paper and started writing and muttering to himself.

Feeling pleased, he sent the paper to Vaggie who read it aloud, " 'Act selfless, don't steal, stick it to the man.'" 

"Are you fucking serious?" (Y/N) growled. 

"Uh, yeah, sure got me here, didn't it? Right, Sera?" 

"He was the first human soul into Heaven." agreed the Seraphim. 

"Well, I bet Angel is doing all of these things right now!" Charlie stuck her nose in the air, confident in the spider.

"Then let's fucking see it, brah!" Adam snapped his fingers, and a giant white glowing orb appeared. 

"Your Honors, may I present exhibit A..."

*With the rest of the gang*

"Woo! Isn't this place the fuckin' best?" Cherri grinned. "I'll admit, 'Consent' is a good name for a sex club." Husk agreed. 

Pentious looked down to see Nifty with a broom on her hands, sweeping aggressively. "Niffty, dear, what are you doing?" He asked. "I'm sweeping! Urgh, look how icky is is in here!" She scowled at the floor, hands on her hip. 

"That's because we're at a club, dear." soothed Pentious. "Oh! I thought the hotel looked different!" Niffty dropped the broom, and giggled before wandering off. "Ms Bomb, I-I'd like to buy you a drink." He offered. "Why? Didn't you say we're arch-rivals?" Cherri smirked, loving how flustered the snake was.

"Um..uh..because I'm buying everyone a drink!" He called loudly, the patrons cheering louder. "Free drinks! I love alcohol!" 

"Good. I need a drink after today." Angel sighed. "Ever since I was released from Val, it's like all any demon sees is a free opportunity. But since I've been free, I've only been wanting (Y/N). It's like....I don't even like sex unless it's with my bambino. (baby). Is that weird?"

"Nah, man. It just means you care about the Prince. That's called being in love. Trust me, I know a thing or two about love." Husk huffed a laugh into his drink. "Here, take one of these, and you won't be worrying about nothing." Cherri promised, holding a hand full of different pills. 

"Here we go." Husk rolled his eyes. 

"Ohhh! Look, the drunk sobered up long enough to judge us!" Cherri mocked, elbowing Angel. 

"I ain't the one trying to get into Heaven. I also ain't the one who's engaged to the prince, and made him a promise to try and stay clean. You wanna fuck up all your progress? Be my guest. I just thought you were better than that." shrugged the cat demon.

"Thanks, Captain Buzzkill. Come on, Angie, let's get fucked up! It's been too long!" 

Angel looked down at his ring on his upper left ring finger, thinking about the one who gave it to him.

"I, uhh, I don't know. It's been a long day, and I don't need to go too wild." 

"Mmhmm." Husk hummed, smiling to himself, proud of his friend. 

"Come on, bitch. If you've really been stressin' that hard, you deserved a little R and R and some THC, or maybe PCP with DMT. Aw fuck it, let's see where the night takes us, huh?" Cherri grinned, not noticing Pentious returning with drinks in his hand. 

"I-I guess."

"Cherri, I bought you a shot." Pentious's smile wavered at the deadpanned look she gave him. "B-Because I bought everyone another shot! Hoorary!" He cackled. "Yeah, another drink! I love alcohol!" A patron cheered. 

Angel and Cherri tossed back the shots with a satisfied sigh. 

"Aahh, fuck it! Let's do it!" 

*End chapter! Enjoy!*

#storydays #viziepop #hazbin hotel angel dust #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin hotel husk #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin hotel x reader #x male reader #hazbin hotel fandom

[madiisixx]

maybe reader on her period and crying about everything

Emotional Mess

Masterlist

Prompt: Fem! Reader is v emotional during her cycle and Joseph tries to cheer her up

Requested by: Anonymous :)

Pairings: Joseph Quinn x Fem! reader

A/n: shall I make more Joe Quinn fics? Let me know!

Being someone that has a period cycle can be suffering sometimes.

All the emotions that run through your brain like a freight train being hauled at a speed of a hundred miles per hour is exhausting

You’ve been watching your lovely boyfriend, Joseph Quinn, and his interviews from the very emotional release of Stranger Things 4 Vol. 2

He did warn you to not watch it while you were on your hell week but he didn’t warn you about what sent you into waterworks once and for all

Seeing him as his character Eddie Munson, die on screen made you into a crying mess and sobbing all over the couch as you had been sitting there lounging all day.

You couldn't wait until he got home to comfort you and hold you close as he calmed you down and kissed all of your tears away.

Grabbing your phone, You dialed his number hoping and praying he wasn't in an interview at this very moment.

Thankfully it didn't go to voicemail and he had picked up on the second ring

"Love? are you okay?"

You shook your head even though he couldn't see you on the other end of the line

"J- Joe you didn't tell me they killed Eddie off! You left me home alone a sobbing mess with my Cramps killing me!"

He felt bad, truly he did but he was busy with work and had one more interview before He could leave.

"I'm sorry lovey, I have one more than I'll be home to cuddle you yeah? Want me to bring you home some ice cream?"

Tears had welled up in your eyes at his statement and nodded, "yes please but hurry home I miss you"

He frowned at your remark and wished his manager would let him leave and skip this final interview so he could be home with you

You both had stayed on the phone for a little while longer until he had to get back to his final interview of the day and hung up leaving you in another crying mess

~~~

The clock had struck 6:30 pm and You heard the Jingle of the keys and the door open as Joe had finally came home from what felt like forever of interviews

You were cuddled up on the couch in the fetal position with a blanket wrapped around you and a shitty show on the Tv that you had been watching just for noise

He took his shoes off and hung his coat up and walked over to where you were on the couch finally being able to be in your embrace

"Hi my little lovebug, How are you feeling hm?"

You sat up as best as you could slowly and looked at him, "Feeling better now that You're here"

Smiling at your cute remark, he pulled you into his side and kissed your head as your pain felt like it instantly had been relieved from his touch and being in his arms

"I brought you home some ice cream"

You nodded and snuggled up into his side, hiding your face in his chest

"Thank you I'll eat it later"

He nodded and kissed your head once again as he let you relax into his arms hoping to make you feel better

the affection had made you start sobbing again and of course he noticed as He looked down at you with worry

"Baby what's wrong?"

you wiped your tears and spoke softly, "I just love you so much"

He smiled and wiped your tears

"I love you more even when you're an emotional mess"

A/N: Ahhhh I love lovey dovey Joseph it warms my heart fr <3

#stranger things fanfic #slvtforharrington #joseph quinn x reader #joseph quinn #joseph quinn x you

[lizzieislife94x]

Damn It! (e.o)

Requested <3

LizzieG!PxFem Reader

Another update for yall 😇 assssssss always requests are open my loves.

Lizzies POV:

I groan and rub my templates as my extremely attractive new assistant trip's sending the coffees flying this girl can't do anything right I only hired her because I wanna have her "I'm sorry I'm so sorry miss olsen ill get it cleaned and get some more im so sorry" she panics making me look at her god she's so fucking adorable "y/n take a seat just leave it ill get it cleaned after work hours, I need you to go book an appointment for a new client for Thursday can you do that " I say a little annoyed as smiles and nods "yes I can do that easy!" With that she jumps out of the chair and leaves my office.

Y/ns POV:

I can't help but curse myself why am I so clumsy why does she make my brain forget how to brain I sigh and dial the number lizzie gave me as a woman quickly answers

Hey my names y/n I'm calling on behalf of miss olsen she asked me to arrange an appointment for Thursday. I say waiting for a reply

Thursday is perfect this Thursday or next Thursday y/n. I hear as I start to panic fuck shit she just said Thursday is it tomorrow or next week

Umm I uh next Thursday, thank you have a great day. I quickly hang up the phone as I gron leaning against the table.

4 hours later:

"See you tomorrow miss olsen" I say as I head out to leave the building "I need you tomorrow bright and early don't be late" her tone is matter of fact making me gulp "yes miss olsen see you tomorrow"

Next Day:

Y/ns POV:

I take a deep breath before walking into the office "you got this y/n don't let her make your brain stop you can function like a normal human being" I whisper to myself before making my way up to the top of the building "morning y/n I think you should turn around and leave" Joe one of my co workers states making me panic "lizzie is on the war path she had everything ready for the meeting with the new client this morning only to find its booked for next week" I groan and cover my face "fuck I panicked when she asked what Thursday and lizzie didn't tell me it was meant to be today" I whisper as her door swings open "y/n my office now!!!" She yells slamming the door making my blood run cold tears threaten to run from my eyes as I make my way into her office "damn it! Y/n how could you fuck this up" I don't dare look at her "you didn't tell me it was for today I panicked and said next week" I whisper my voice failing me "don't give me the tears it was a simple task and you somehow fucked it up how is that possible" I sniff and look up "I'm sorry miss olsen ill do better" she laughs folding her arms "I think I should teach you a lesson right here huh?" I look at her confused wiping my eyes "please don't fire me miss olsen this is the only sorce of income I have " I pleade as she smirks sitting down "oh I'm not going to fire you be a good girl and go make sure the blinds are closed" I stand up confused as I close them "now come here I'm going to make that cute little ass red bend over the desk and show mommy your ass" her change of tone turning me on what the fuck is happening I slowly do as I'm told till I'm bent over my bosses desk her hands running down my back gently rubbing my ass making me bite my lip "you've been asking for this since you started such a clumsy girl can never do anything right huh, I think you need mommy to teach you " I let our a loud audible moan at her words making lizzie laugh "pl...please teach me mo..m..my" I beg as I feel her stand behind be pulling my ass flush against her waist the feeling of something hard pressing into me "can you feel what you do to me y/n" she whispers into my ear as I nod trying to press my ass into her harder "oh don't worry you'll get mommy's cock and load soon but first I gotta mark that ass of yours princess " I turn slightly as I bite my lip "I.. I.. I'm not on birth control" I stutter as she slaps my ass hard making me moan again "even better you'd love to be full of my seed with my baby growing in your cute little stomach" I nod slowly as she pushes my dress up over my ass "never knew you where a thong girl" she grins pulling my now drenched thong down my legs making me instantly spread my legs a groan falling from her lips as her fingers gently tease my soaking entrance "fuck" I cry out needing more her laugh ringing in my ear "I want you to count how many times I spank your ass can you do that properly? Can you count for mommy" she mocks as I nod her hand slamming onto my right ass cheek "one" I yelp suddenly another and another and another till she finally stops at 10, my ass feeling its on fire "my hand print looks good on your ass" she whispers biting my ear as she unbuttons her pants "so fucking hard thinking about making you take my dick" I turn with my back now on the desk needing to see her "fuck" I pant as she holds her hard cock in her hand "don't worry princess you'll be able to take it " she smirks as she steps closer teasing my dripping pussy "mommy please...Don.. t tease me" I beg as she finally pushes her whole length inside me making me scream "that's it sweetheart let them all hear how good mommy makes you feel" the rest of the world forgotten as I moan like never before as she runs her hand up my body my body grabbing my tits "gonna make you mine slut" she moans her thrusts somehow getting faster the feeling of her deep inside me hitting spots no one ever has has my whole body shaking "shit don't stop oh my fucking godddddddd I'm gonna cum"

I scream as I start to cum lizzies grin getting bigger as she continues to pound me not letting me recover "such a tight little pussy fuck it's like it was made for me" she leans down kissing me as pounds and pounds "fu...ck mommy" I moan against her lips for only her to hear "if you fuck up from now on I'm gonna fuck your brains out baby" I smirk as my eyes roll "that's just gonna make me do it on purpose" she moans as she slows her thrusts "so fucking naughty, I'm close sweetheart gonna fill your pussy" she moans her eyes closing as her thrusts get harder my second orgasm seconds away as I feel her hot sticky seed filling my unprotected pussy sending me over the edge making me cum harder than I ever have my body trembling as the pleasure rushes through me lizzie slamming deep inside me holding still "fuck y/n" she moans into my ear both of us recovering from the intense orgasm "now you gotta walk around with my cum leaking out of this well fucked cunt" she smirks teasing my clit making me shake "I don't even care" I giggle as she pulls out quickly fixing my panties for me "that was better than I've pictured" she smirks cupping my cheeks leaving a gentle kiss on my lips as she fixes her pants before sitting on her chair pulling me into her lap "but we do need to talk about all these mistakes sweetheart" I feel my cheeks blush and hide my face "it's because of you" lizzie looks at me shocked and confused "what do you mean" I groan as she grips my chin making me look at her "you make my brain short circuit like I know I can do the work but you somehow make my brain stop " she laughs cuddling into me "well I'm sure we can start to fix it from now on huh" I smile and nod as I cuddle into her a loud knock making me jump "go away come back in an hour" I giggle as she laughs "I want time with you they can wait" I smile and trace patterns on her neck as we cuddle in comfortable silence.

AN: hope this is OK 👍 drink water and stay hydrated babes 💗 word count 1.5k

#elizabeth olsen #lizzie olsen #fanfic #wattpad #oneshot #smut #mcu fanfiction #marvel mcu #mcu #lizzieislife94x #mommy wanda #wanda maximoff #wandavision #wanda marvel #wanda mcu #wanda x reader #wanda x you #wanda maximoff imagine #wanda maximommy #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda smut