#listen i hate them as much as fuckin anyone else but that is not the look.

[lynzishell]

OC Deep Dive Questionnaire 💛Atlas & Asher🩵

✨TYSM for the tag @raiiny-bay, @zosa95, @dandylion240, @sirianasims, and @hannahssimblr 🤗💖

Of course, I went overboard with this, so grab your favorite beverage and let's dive right in, shall we? ☕💕

-what common/uncommon fear do they have?

💛Atlas: [Pointing to Asher] Water. 🩵Asher: You can’t just leave it at that. It’s not like if you set a glass of water on the table, I’ll run screaming. I have a fear of drowning, so I don’t like to be submerged in water. You’re never going to catch me out swimming. Probably not on a boat either, while we’re at it. Not taking any chances. 💛Atlas: Fair enough. But you won’t even put your face under the water in the shower. 🩵Asher: That’s because it reminds me of being submerged in water. Anyway, this conversation is making me sweaty, and there just happens to be water on the other side of this fence, so let's change the subject. Next question.

-do they have any pet peeves?

🩵Asher: Oh, Atlas fuckin’ hates mindless small talk, like the kind you use just to fill the silence, or because you awkwardly feel like you need to talk to the person next to you. Seriously, he’ll like you a lot more if you just sit next to him in silence for an hour. 💛Atlas:  Very true. And yet, your record for silence is, what, twenty minutes?  🩵Asher: Maybe. But I don’t make mindless small talk. 💛Atlas: Yeah, I do like listening to you ramble on about your latest obsessions. You get all animated and excited, it’s really cute. 🩵Asher: You’re really cute.

-what are 3 items you can find in their bedroom?

💛Atlas: Uh, I don’t know, what’s in our room besides the obvious? Probably too many electronics. 🩵Asher: Right, between the computer and the switch and my drawing tablet and our phones... 💛Atlas: And your sketchbooks and pencils. How many pencils does someone need? 🩵Asher: I don’t have enough; I’ll tell you that much. Count yourself lucky that most of my art supplies are scattered between Lex’s place and my parents’ house. One day I’ll get it all organized in one place, but that day is not today.

-what do they notice first in a person?

🩵Asher: Hm. That's a good question. What did you notice about me first? 💛Atlas: Your hair, obviously. 🩵Asher: [laughs] 💛Atlas: But no, I would say your eyes. I’d never met anyone with such pure gray eyes before, they’re striking. Your eyes are very expressive too. And you make eye contact with people more than anyone else I know. Like, whenever I talk to you, I always feel like you’re really listening. 🩵Asher: [smiles] I am.

-on a scale of 1-10, how high is their pain tolerance?

🩵Asher: Oh god, mine is probably like a 5, and Atlas’s is probably a fuckin’ 8 or 9. 💛Atlas: I would’ve said 7, but we can go with 8.

-do they go into fight or flight mode when under pressure?

💛Atlas: I think my first instinct is freeze, but then probably flight. Depending on the situation, I’ll walk away or hide away. 🩵Asher: Mostly. But with James, you definitely went to fight. 💛Atlas: That was different. I don’t care if people hurt me, but I’m not going to let them hurt the people I love. Ash is definitely more of a fighter than I am.  

-do they come from a big family/are they a family person?

🩵Asher: I don’t come from a big family, it’s just my parents, me, my sister, and my niece, but we are very close. But honestly, family isn’t just about relatives. Chosen family is just as important. When I say my family is the most important thing to me, I don’t just mean them, I also mean Atlas and Lex and Dawn and Phoenix and Aspen too. And Jasper, obviously. 💛Atlas: Exactly. If we’re talking about relatives, I come from a very large family, but I will never see or speak to any of them again, except for Dawn, of course. A few years ago, I never would’ve considered myself a family person, but Ash’s family taking me in changed all that. I’d definitely say I am now. 🩵Asher: I love that.

-what animal represents them best?

💛Atlas: Oh, that’s easy. Ash is just like Jasper, his border collie. Playful and energetic, friendly, intelligent, hardworking, and he loves to snuggle. 🩵Asher: Hm. I think for Atlas, I’d say a deer. 💛Atlas: A deer? 🩵Asher: Yeah, like, you’re quiet and cautious, a bit anxious with a tendency to hide, but you’re also beautiful and sweet. 💛Atlas: You make me sound more like a bunny. 🩵Asher: No, definitely not a bunny. Have you ever come upon a big buck deer? They’re majestic and intimidating, and they’ll kick your ass if they have to. They’re… survivors.

-what is a smell that they dislike?

💛Atlas: Ammonia. 🩵Asher: No one likes the smell of ammonia. 💛Atlas: I know, but when I was a kid, at the end of every school year, we’d have to clean our desks with this ammonia spray. Twenty kids spraying ammonia in an enclosed room. It was awful. I’m sure they had the windows open, but even still, that smell is seared into my brain, makes me want to gag just thinking of it.

-have they broken any bones? if so, how?

🩵Asher: Okay, story time! So, when I was ten? Eleven? Something like that. Anyway, I was dancing around in my room, as one does, and I tripped on a book, one of many scattered around my disaster of a room, and tried to catch myself as I went down. Bad decision. I’ll spare you the details, but the pain I felt in my wrist was horrible. I literally saw stars. And then I almost puked when I looked at it. So, of course, I started screaming for my mom. She came running in, and I told her that I’d broken my wrist. And what did she do? She yanked on it and snapped it back into place! Because apparently, I’d just dislocated it. But, fuck, it hurt. If a broken bone is worse than that, then I hope I never break one. 💛Atlas: I broke a toe once. Stubbed it on the corner of my bed when I was in college. I wasn’t good about taping it up or anything either, so it healed a little crooked.

-how would a stranger likely describe them?

🩵Asher: For Atlas? One word: quiet. How they interpret that quietness varies though. Some people think he’s really shy, others think he’s just aloof. But he’s actually neither. He’s introverted and pensive, sure, but he’s also very warm and enjoys chatting with people if it’s a more meaningful conversation, y’know. Like, when we first met, we would talk for hours and hours. 💛Atlas: That’s true, but you’re such an easy person to talk to. I think that’s what people would say about Ash. He’s just very relaxed and friendly and has a way of putting people at ease. He’s good at connecting with people and getting them talking and making them laugh.  

-are they a night owl or a morning bird?

🩵Asher: Probably night owls, I’d say. Atlas prefers starting his day later and working late, if he has the option. 💛Atlas: Yeah, but these days, it feels like I’m working all the time. But even still, Ash starts his day earlier. I don’t know. I think he’s somehow both. He has no issues with mornings, but he also gets a burst of energy in the evening and sometimes it’s hard to get him to come to bed. 🩵Asher: To sleep, anyway. 💛Atlas: [laughs] Right.

-what is a flavor they hate and a flavor they love?

💛Atlas: Ah, Ash hates vinegar and anything pickled. And he loves warm spices like cinnamon and cardamom. 🩵Asher: Oh my god, and Atlas is fuckin’ backwards when it comes to this. He likes bitter flavors to a strange degree, like super bitter beer and strong coffee and he’ll only eat chocolate if it’s the super dark stuff, otherwise he hates it. He doesn’t like sweets. No sugary drinks or candy or even pastries.

-do they have any hobbies?

🩵Asher: We both love gaming and dancing. Otherwise, I like to draw and spend time with my dog. My favorite is taking him down to the beach to play fetch, he loves it there. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and I don’t know, I like to stay active because I feel like I’m constantly at a desk otherwise. I used to rock climb a lot, but since we climbed Mt. Komorebi, we took a break and never really got back to it, so I pretty much just run and work out at the gym occasionally. And I like to sing. 🩵Asher: Seriously, I wish you could hear him. He has the most incredible voice. 💛Atlas: Aw, thank you.

-boom, surprise birthday party! how do they react to surprises?

💛Atlas: Ash would love it! He’d be so stoked that everyone showed up for him like that. 🩵Asher: And Atlas would probably dump me on the spot if I ever did that to him. 💛Atlas: I don’t know if I’d dump you, but… okay, yeah, I probably would.

-do they like to wear jewelry? if so, what is their favorite piece?

🩵Asher: I don’t think I’ve ever seen Atlas wear any jewelry. 💛Atlas: No, I’ve tried, but I could never get used to it. I’d always end up taking it off by midday. 🩵Asher: I can see that. I wear earrings, but that’s it. I used to wear a necklace that an ex gave me, but I threw it out when we broke up. I wanted to throw it into the ocean, but I didn’t dare to walk out on the dock [laughs] so I tossed it in a dumpster instead. 💛Atlas: I didn’t know that. Which ex? 🩵Asher: Elias. 💛Atlas: Ahh. Yikes. 🩵Asher: Yeah. Anyway. Next question.

-do they have neat or messy handwriting?

💛Atlas: I think we both write fairly neat. 🩵Asher: I think so too. Yours is all sharp angles, but it’s not sloppy. 💛Atlas: Yeah, and you have a strong preference for uppercase letters. Sometimes it’s rushed, but it’s never messy. Actually, I’ve never thought about it before, but I really like your handwriting. 🩵Asher: I like yours too.

-what are two emotions they feel the most?

🩵Asher: [points to Atlas] Anxious. 💛Atlas: All of the time. 🩵Asher: And, hm, we can only pick two? I’d probably go with either introspective or focused. 💛Atlas: That’s probably right. For you, I’d say, passionate or inspired and then maybe playful or energetic or something like that. Okay yeah, passionate and playful.

-do they have a favorite fabric?

💛Atlas: Probably cotton, I guess. 🩵Asher: Yeah, same. I don't know. Never really thought about it, to be honest.

-what kind of accent do they have?

🩵Asher: I don’t know. Do we have accents? I mean, I guess Atlas gets a hint of a drawl when he drinks, it’s pretty cute. 💛Atlas: I do not. 🩵Asher: You do! I never told you because I didn’t want you to get self-conscious and try to stop. 💛Atlas: It’s a good thing I don’t drink often, I guess. 🩵Asher: Whatever. I love it. 💛Atlas: And I love you. 🩵Asher: I love you too.

And I love them too!! 🥹

Okay, whew! What are the chances anyone actually read all that? I really can't just be normal about these things, can I? Oh well... Now it's your turn!! I'm gonna tag @madebysimblr, @crownsofesha, @xldkx, @honeyjars-sims, aaaaaaaaaaand @igotsnothing 🤸🏻‍♀️💖 Answer them normally, or have a little fun with it, or ignore me completely, that's fine too (no it's not) 🫶🏻

#seriously tho #if you read all that i love you forever #and i offer you cookies 🍪🍪🍪 and hugs 🤗🤗🤗 #tag game #oc tag game #atlas stephens #asher goode #aries outtakes

[cluster-b-culture-is]

Cluster B Culture is seeing a mean/ignorant/fucking stupid opinion post tagged with every cluster b tag and wanting so badly to pick a fight.

.

#cluster b culture is #cluster b #npd #aspd #bpd #hpd #Mod Reef #anonymous #MOOD #and like. recently i saw someone be all like #''nobody in [x hateful group] actually has ASPD they're just armchair diagnosing because they're ableist!!!'' #listen i hate them as much as fuckin anyone else but that is not the look. #some people with ASPD are good people. some Really Fucking Aren't (just like any group). if you can't deal with that then shut the fuck up

[kiame-sama]

Drag Me to Hell- (Yandere!Alastor x Chubby!Reader) pt. 3

Warnings; spoilers for episode 5 of Hazbin Hotel, yandere relationship, yandere temper, yandere behavior, toxic relationship, Alastor is not fond of disobedience, don't make deals with demons,

~~~~~~~~

"Good talk, chum!"

Alastor hummed as he moved towards the shadows, leaving behind a shaking and terrified Husker. There were many words that could be used to describe Alastor and none were more fitting than terrifying.

None knew this better than you.

"Husker," you started, emerging from where you had been waiting down the hall, "are you okay?"

The hellcat tried to pull himself together quickly and brush you off, but his shaking betrayed how truly afraid he was. When Alastor wanted to put terror into others, he didn't need to work very hard to accomplish his goal.

"Why the Hell d'you care? You're his fuckin' favorite, the fuck you know about it?"

You knew he was lashing out to protect himself, but the words almost managed to make you flinch. Luckily for the both of you, you didn't and you kept a level head. If he had seen... Still, you wanted to try and comfort the fellow lost soul ensnared by your eternal captor.

"Husker, listen to me."

Something about your firm tone made the demon pause, an almost confused and unsettled expression on his face. It was rare that you became so serious and pleading with anyone, let alone tried to actually talk to anyone for extended periods of time. Something about your tone made him want to take whatever you were going to say seriously.

"You may think you know the limits of his patience but you don't. I know them. I have seen more than you know and have been by his side for longer than you may expect. I can never share these things. I can never tell anyone what I have heard and seen. Those memories are not my secrets to share. But I can tell you some of the terms of my contact, and I hope you understand and take heed."

You were choosing your words carefully, knowing that you could only say so much before the fine-print of your contract with Alastor silenced you. Parroting one of the key lines of your contract even as you navigated your way through the red-tape and fine print. Alastor made sure to create a rather finely crafted contract to outline your deal with him and you had plenty of time to read over it again and again.

"Expected and Required are the same thing. I am expected to remain by Alastor's side until he doesn't want me to be. I am expected to do what is asked of me by Alastor and no one else. I am expected to keep what I see and hear a secret unless Alastor wishes for me to speak on the matter. I am expected to remember the primary terms of every contract I have seen. And I have to say, Husker, I know better than anyone what chains can bind some overlords."

Husker seemed confused for a moment before his eyes flashed with recognition before shifting to curiosity. You could only hope that he gathered the information you wanted to give him without having directly said it.

"You were there for my deal, weren't you?"

"I cannot say. Those are not my secrets to share."

"But where were you? I thought it was just me an' him. Unless... Hells, you're his microphone, aren't you?"

"I am expected to be by his side until he doesn't want me to be."

"You've been around long enough to see my deal, you must have seen so many other deals too. Why do you stay with him? Ain't there any kind of freedom to your deal?"

"My deal was made to keep me safe from other demons. It... Evolved into what it is now. I stay safe and in return I do as my deal says, no questions. That is what I agreed to. Look, Husker, all I am saying is your leash could be tighter, your chains could be heavier, and you could have far less freedoms than you have now. Don't squander it over someone like Mimzy."

"I just know she is bad news! But he won't listen."

"I know she is bad news too and I admit, I hate her. Every time she shows up she uses him and thinks she has some kind of control over him because he lets her get away with this nonsense."

You sighed and tried to smile at Husker, feeling the wry and strained grin become more of a grimace. It was true that you strongly disliked the woman that only appeared when she needed help and you knew she didn't like you either. Mimzy had obvious feelings for Alastor and she hated the fact that you were close to him when she so desperately wanted to be in your place.

"Husker, I can't say I like you- he doesn't like competition of any kind- but I don't want you killed or hurt. You are a better person than you claim to be and we both know it. Just know that though he doesn't like your tone, he does hear you and your concerns."

"Listen, (y/n), maybe if we talk to Charlie about your deal, she can-"

You sharply stood from where you had been kneeling by his side, already knowing where the conversation was going and not wanting either of you to get hurt by the blowback. If Husker finished his sentence, odds are Alastor would not hesitate to rip his soul to shreds for daring to try and break the deal you had. There was no way you were going to let such a thing happen and that meant you had to make it clear to Husker as well.

"No. I am happy with my deal. I would never say anything to the contrary or try to get out of my deal with Alastor. Besides, I have seen too much and know too much for him to ever let me go peacefully. That level of blood and retribution is far too high a price. Don't suggest it again, Husker, or we will both be in trouble for it. Please, just trust me to-"

The way your voice died in your throat with a slight choke let the demon know you said as much as you could. Though there was more you wished to say, you could feel your own leash tighten in a clear warning and you knew then he had been listening. Odds are, Alastor had been listening to the whole thing and he was not pleased with your attempts to get around his gag order. It was also clear to you that Alastor was likely testing you by letting Husker get as far as he did in his questioning.

A chill ran down your back and you saw your fellow demon's eyes widen as he stared behind you. The clawed hand of the Radio Demon rest on your shoulder, his head leaning over so you could barely see his threatening grin in your peripheral view. You could feel his shadows crawling over your skin and around you as he casually asserted control over both you and Husker.

"Now, now. Whatever could you two possibly be discussing? It wouldn't happen to be about the rules you know you can't discuss, right?"

"Of course not, Alastor. We both know that they aren't my secrets to share even if I wanted to, which I don't. I am simply informing him from one damned soul to another that trying to rile you is a bad idea."

A soft growl could be heard from Alastor and you could feel the slight brush of his antlers against your head as his annoyance grew. As far as you knew, you hadn't said anything to upset him and you had not breached the terms of your contract. But the way his hand tightened on your shoulder told you Alastor was unhappy about something and you were terrified what that would mean for Husker.

"I have told you what to call me many times now, (y/n). I do not appreciate your continued failure to heed my instruction."

It then dawned on you why Alastor was irritated and in some ways it was ridiculous to you. He was upset because you called him Alastor and not a pet name as he had requested. Honestly, you had forgotten entirely about something so trivial, but you also knew Alastor was a stickler for details.

"Dear, I feel there is a time and place for terms of endearment and they have no place in serious discussion."

"That is for me to decide and you to obey. Do not presume such things again, Sugar. Now, what is this about you hating Mimzy?"

"She is only here to try and use you, we all know that. I don't like her casual attempts at controlling you and I know she dislikes me as well."

"I don't care what she thinks of you, it is not her decision if I keep you with me or not. Now, I would hope you know better than to question me, because I doubt you want to spend another half a decade locked away again. Do I make myself clear, Honey?"

"... Yes, Darling."

Alastor was quick to disappear once more into shadow, leaving both you and Husker to stare at one another in silence. You both knew he likely didn't go far and that he was always watching whatever it was you chose to do. With this constant observation in mind, you did your best to keep your actions to a minimum and to keep any backlash from hurting Husker.

"We both know what our place is. It would be best that we don't question it. I'm truly sorry for the pain you feel, Husker, but we made our choices. Be happy your choice gives you some kind of freedom."

#kiame-sama #yandere #x reader #yandere x reader #reader insert #tw yandere #yandere alastor #yandere hazbin hotel

[potatobugxo]

Hey so ive been having a rough day as I was yelled at by customersn at my retail job, can i get Angelperhaps seeing his genderneutral s/o getting yelled at by an unruly hotel guest and standing up for them and possibly comforting them? If you cant i totally understand, thanks ❤️

yes of course!!! i work in retail too people are so stupid fr... take care of yourself ok?? love you very much <33 warnings: reader gets yelled at, swearing, hurt to comfort

"a-ah, my bad..." angel perks up as he hears you apologize to someone across the room. the hotel had grown more lively with guests and sinners, and handling guests' purchases was your designated job. you were crouched on the floor, scooping up a tray of food you had dropped.

"what the hell? can't even get decent service at a place like this," the guest, a demon much taller than you grumbled, hands on his hips as he watched you scramble to pick up what was presumed to be his meal. "i am really sorry," you stand back up, tray in hand, and angel's hair standing on end when he realizes how shaky your hands are. "i-i can get a replacement for it right away-" "don't need a fuckin' replacement!" the sinner barks in your face, slapping the tray out of your hands and making you wince. "need you to do your fuckin' job right! they not payin' you enough, huh? think you can just waste shit like this!" "hey, asshole!" you and the sinner both turn to see angel dust marching toward you, his pink pupils glowing an angry shade of magenta. "listen up, fucker, they're doin' their best," angel jabs a finger into the sinner's chest, causing the demon to scowl at him. you shift anxiously on your feet behind angel, swiping the tears that had been forming in your eyes away with your arm. "so what if they dropped a tray? it's just some fuckin' food, not like they took a shit in it and served it to you," angel sneered. "if you lookin' to redeem yourself this ain't how you treat other people. so apologize or get the fuck outta here!" "fuck you!" the sinner snaps back, unable to come up with further retaliation before storming out of the lobby. angel glares at him as he departs, and only turns to you once the sinner slams the hotel doors shut. "angel, you didn't have to do that," you insist, voice hushed. angel places his four hands on your arms and smiles at you. "toots, you can't be takin' shit like that, okay?" he assures in a gentle tone. "i'm just tired," you inform him. "i'm not used to so many guests being here... looks like they all don't listen when charlie says to be polite to others." "that's for fuckin' sure," angel spits in the direction the sinner had fled in. "hey, don't beat yourself up about it, alright? i'll help you clean up this mess." he gestures toward the tray and scattered food that has stained the carpet. "okay," you sniffle a bit. "anyone else been treatin' you like that mothafucka?" angel inquires, cocking an eyebrow. you shake your head. "good. cuz i'd really hate to backslide on this redemption bullshit by shootin' some lowlife scumbag." you giggle at his remark and he grins, pulling you in for a four-armed hug.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #angel dust #angel dust x reader

[s-4pphics]

dial. 4 (e.w.)

wc;cw: 5.5K, fratadjacent!ellie, all ocs r black coded<3, angst, SMUT MDNI!!!!!, finger sucking!!!, voyeurism, dirty talk, lil assplay, squirting, spit, a lil breeding kink, sextape, masturbation, more porn mentions, bussing untouched, weed, dubcon bc alcohol, pov switches bc im experimenting :p

You returned to campus surprisingly high-spirited. 

You were arriving to class fifteen minutes early, color-coding your notes, smiling and laughing with your friends even more than you used to before shit hit the fan! It scared the shit out of all of them since the last time they saw you, snot was coming out of your nose while you sobbed your eyes out. 

Dina knocked on you and Niah’s front door the night before class with tears in her eyes, whimpering out about how terrible she felt and how she should’ve tried harder to steer you away from her best friend. Nothing was her fault; She did what anyone would, and you ignored it. She slept in your arms that night. 

When you joyfully volunteered to pay for you and Niah’s fancy dinner upon returning to campus, she grilled you, demanding to know where this change of heart came from. As if you weren’t screaming about how much you hated these hoes on FaceTime a couple of weeks ago. All you could do is shrug and laugh some more, confirming that everything would be fine. She seemed a bit skeptical when she peered at you over her glass of wine. 

Niah even volunteered to be angry with you. I’ll still beat her ass! I don’t care if you’re feeling better; I’m not! But you didn’t even want that. You developed a crush on somebody that’s a bad person, who just so happened to have amazing dick! Shit happens, and you’re over it. Sort of. 

You still have something that you need to take care of before you close this chapter of your college career. And there’s only one person who’d be willing to help you out!

“… You want me to what.” 

Your feet tapped nervously on Abby’s hardwood floor as she gawked at you, her body lax on her couch as smoke left her mouth in a large, pale cloud. 

After Ellie exposed her and Abby’s history, you decided to pry. Abby seemed a bit confused at your eagerness to know about their relationship, but she provided some insight. They’re apparently not as close as you thought: they’ve been screwing on and off since freshman year after Abby’s partner cheated on her with someone dressed in a panda costume. What the fuck.

Abby is actually Riley’s best friend, who’s also Ellie and Dina’s really good friend whose also friends with someone named Kayla and your brain is fucking fried and you’re not even high! You don’t know any of these people!

Since when did snooping become this fucking confusing! 

Your hands fiddled nervously, “Um… well, I mean— “

“Listen,” she snickered. “You seem nice, like really fuckin’ nice, but I dunno about this. Ellie’n I aren’t… best friends or anything but—”

“I know it sounds fucking crazy! I know!” Your arms flailed, “This is really outta character for me, but… she…” 

Tears immediately jerked in your eyes as you recalled Ellie’s harsh words. This is the first time you’ve cried since you’ve been back, “She really hurt my fucking feelings. Don’t tell anyone I told you that, by the way! I just wanna…” 

“Use me to get her back?” Abby concluded, leaning over to ash her joint. 

You pouted, “… You make it sound so awful— “

“Well, I mean,” she snorted, offering you the remainder of the joint. You took it gratefully. 

You spoke around your toke, “I dunno what else to do. I don’t know anything about her. The only time I saw her slightly out of character was at the fucking party!”

Abby hummed as she listened when you exhaled. She didn’t seem… entirely off put by your suggestion, but she hasn’t said much this entire conversation. She probably thought you came here for another reason based on her appearance. Ellie and Abby were surprisingly alike. They loved themselves some fucking grey sweatpants!

Moments of silence passed as she stared at the floor with her lip between her teeth, and you knew it was over. She was thinking of a way to kick you out politely. Not only was your one chance at karma destroyed, but you might’ve cost yourself a potential friendship with Abby! You’re bound to be walking out of here without the dignity you attempted to salvage in the next five seconds. Is it hot in here or is the bud getting to you quicker than expected—

“Run the plan by me one more time?” 

You looked up at her, meeting the mischievous glint in her eyes. You choked on your last puff of the blunt and your brows raised in shock. Her index finger tapped on the back of the couch while you went through the run-down for the weekend. 

She still hasn't said anything after your second explanation, and your body flushed hot in mortification. You threw in the towel with a heavy sigh.

“Abby, I’m sorry,” you palmed your forehead, “I shouldn’t have thrown this on you. Apparently, I’m not good with strangers, either!” 

You tried to mask your incoming breakdown with an awkward chuckle as you stood to leave, “Um… yeah. I’m sorry— “

“Alright.” 

Your heart jerked in your chest.

“I’ll do it.” 

“R-Really?” 

“Mhm. Ellie never discounted when I picked up, anyway,” she spoke around her bite of a peach ring.  

You leaped from the longue chair to the couch, squealing out thank you’s and throwing your arms around her neck. You felt her hand squeeze the plush on your hip, and you shuddered above her. 

She grinned like a Cheshire and offered you her pinky. 

“Our little secret?” 

You smiled like a fox and laced yours with hers. 

You don’t know when or how your balls dropped, but they were dangling and fucking huge. 

Did you purposefully wear your Sunday best to the Starbucks that Ellie works at? Yes! Were your titties freezing on the way over here from the cut in your sweater dress? Abso—fucking—lutely! You received so many compliments from your peers during your sociology course, though! 

Your heeled boots clanked on the tile with every step you took in the fast-paced line. You hoped Ellie could see you from the register!

It only took two minutes for you to be standing in front of the service counter, finally face-to-face with the first person you’ve ever plotted on. 

“Morning…” you gazed down at her nametag, “Ellie.” 

“… Mornin’,” Her eyes shifted, “Chai latte, extra mi—? “

You ignored the fluttering of your heart as she recited your order. 

“Actually,” your tone was honey-sweet and your smile stretched across your cheeks, “I’d like a Java Chip Frap. Extra chocolate syrup… aaand…” 

You pretended to study the menu board behind her, “A pack of Madeleines!”

She swallowed at the mention of her favorite munchie. You recall catching glimpses of her sneaking some into her pocket before her shift ended every other day. 

She cleared her throat and stared at the screen in front of her, “Anything else?” 

“No, that’s all!” 

You scanned your student card while she wrote your name on your cup. You threw the most darling, pageant-ready have an amazing day, Ellie you could muster over your shoulder. You didn’t bother to wait for her reply before strolling to the pick-up line with a newfound pep in your step. 

That was the best cold drink you’ve ever had!

Saturday came like a freight train. Today was the day. 

Today was the fucking day! 

You were absolutely terrified; You woke up with anxiety pooled in your gut, your mind racing with hundreds of questions. 

What if something bad happens and all this plotting was for naught? What if Abby doesn’t show tonight? What if Ellie chose to just not attend the soccer house party for once? All this pent-up aggression inside you would never get released. 

You rolled your black back seam stockings while Niah curled her hair. 

“Is there a reason we're doing all this extra shit for a stingy party?” Niah asked as she removed her elastic band. 

The second you returned home from Starbucks, you dragged Niah from her bed and into the mall. This would count as your monthly splurge (auntie slid you a few extra coins)! It was vital that you looked as sexy as possible, even if it meant putting a dent in your allowance. 

“Can I not do the most for once?” Your brow arched, twiddling your fingers like an evil villain. 

“You always do the fucking most,” Niah stared blankly as she curled her ends. You giggled and skipped over to where she sat at her desk. 

“Have I ever told you how much I love you?” You cheesed. 

She rolled her eyes, “Get out my face with that gay shit, bruh— “

“I wanna kiss!”

“I dunno why you’re so excited. You know damn well that girl is gonna be there.” 

Your smile widened. She looked up at your silence with a glare, her sharp liner slicing through you as she studied your face. 

“Did y’all fucking make up?” 

“Not at all,” you hummed. 

She didn’t let up, her eyes squinting at you before they doubled in size. 

“Oh my god…” 

“What.” 

“YOU’RE FUCKING SOMEBODY ELSE!” She sprung out of her desk seat, almost dropping her curling iron. “No wonder you’ve been acting so fucking weird— “

“What’s weird about being happ— “

She squealed in excitement, “Shut up! Who is it! Who’s tearing them organs up— “ 

“NIAH! Nobody’s tearing anythi— “

“CALL FROM: ABBY SMILING FACE WITH HEARTS SMILING FACE— “

Siri, followed by your ringtone, blared through your speaker. 

Niah slowly peered over at your desk before looking back at you.

“… And who the fuck is Abby?” 

By the look in her eye, she must’ve already known. 

Oh fuck. 

“U-Uh— “

Niah sprinted towards your desk before you could stop her, snatching your device and answering despite your anxious protests and grabs for it. 

“Yes, hello. Are you smashing my— “

“NIAH! STOP!” You were able to wrangle your phone out of Niah’s grasp, speaking over her shouts of just two whores fornicating!

You could hear Abby snickering, “So much for a secret.” 

“I’m sorry! I can't beat her intuition. Or Siri!”

“You’re cute,” Her voice was like butter, “Just checkin’ to see if we’re still on.” 

Whores! Whores, I tell you! Boutta sweat my wig off! Niah hollered, finally resigning and leaning against your desk. 

“Yeah, we are. Unless you don’t wanna— “

“Shut it. I want to.” 

A shudder wracked through you at the drawl of her tone. Niah shook her head, and you bucked at her with a threatening stare. 

“Okay. I’ll see you soon?” 

“See you soon.” 

The two of you gently farewelled and hung up. You turned to see Niah shamefully shaking her head at you. 

“I’ve seen a lot of shit in my lifetime,” she started, “I’ve never, in all my years, seen anyone fuck their side piece’s side piece.” 

… Were you really the only one who didn’t know that Ellie and Abby canoodled? 

Your eyes rolled, “You’re so fucking dramatic.” 

She reached behind her and grabbed two nips of 1800, tossing one in your direction, almost cracking you in the face with the plastic bottle. 

“You’re gonna need that shit. Harlot.” 

The soccer house was on one; They knew how to fucking throw a not-Christmas party! 

You prayed with every fiber of your drunk being that the feds wouldn’t show up as you threw it back on Niah as Dina grabbed your titties. Tequila’s the devil and coaxes sluttery! 

Drake always sounds more talented when you’re fucked up. Good on him! 

Eyes were burning through your body and you showed out for them. 

Until you felt your phone vibrate in your fucking bra you can’t have shit in this house! —

You irritatingly pulled it out of your bra, leaning on Dina’s shoulder to read your message from… Abby, oh fuck fuck fuck—

You smirked and searched the dark room for your new pretty friend. A moan almost left your throat when you saw her standing by the counter packed with liquor… in a muscle tee that read DO MILFS, NOT DRUGS. And a lollipop stick in her mouth. 

Your brows furrowed in confusion when you locked eyes with Abby. She nodded behind you with a grin. 

You peered over your shoulder and instantly regretted it. 

Ellie was standing against the wall in a flannel and beanie, yet another girl pressed up against her while she smoked. And stared at you. Stared hard at you. Were those the eyes you felt seconds ago? Pride exploded in your chest at the thought. 

… But how long has she fucking been standing there, and why didn’t you fucking notice? You’re never touching Tequila again! 

You shot another text to Abby before shutting your phone off, watching her squeeze through the crowd to get over to your little group. 

“Okay, baby?” Dina shouted in your ear over the music as she rubbed your back. You nodded, keeping your eyes on the blonde girl. 

Abby popped up behind Dina, tapping her shoulder to greet the girl that was propping you up. Abby whispered something to her, and Dina’s grip loosened around your waist. You smiled when Abby presented in front of you, throwing your arms around her neck to keep yourself steady. 

You barely heard Niah’s shouts of whore alert before Abby leaned down to connect your lips. The shots she had mixed with her cherry-flavored chapstick and apple lollipop as her mouth caressed yours, calls of oh shit from partygoers around you drowning your head. The attention made you kiss her deeper, your tongue easing into her mouth as people hooted around you. 

Abby’s strong arms wrapped around your waist to hold you to her strong chest, her sneaky hands crawling down to grab your ass through your dress. You moaned into the kiss, lacing your fingers through her curled locks. 

She tightened her hold on your hips and spun you, a thin line of drool connecting your lips before your back met her chest. You held onto a shocked Dina’s hips while you threw it on Abby, your back arched while she thrusted into your ass. 

Niah, ever the sweetheart, slapped it encouragingly, your hips pushing further onto Abby until she grabbed your shoulder and hauled you back up, her large arm enclosing around your throat. You felt her messily kissing your neck and up your ear, and your eyes fluttered open. 

Don’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllieDon’tlookatEllie—

You did everything in your power to ignore her harsh stare, pulling Niah’s hips back on yours, exposing more space on your neck for Abby to suck, anything anything anything! Don’t fucking look at her!

“Ready?” Abby shouted in your ear. 

Thank god for Abby; You were this close to looking at her. 

You nodded, and she whisked you upstairs after you blew your friends' kisses. 

Why the fuck was Ellie fuming in this dark corner? 

Not only did you blow the fuck out of her high, but you decided to do it with someone she considered a… she doesn’t fucking know. Someone close enough for it to feel like a betrayal!

And you looked so fucking sexy in the act. 

The person chewing on her neck must think that the squirms she’s trying to cover are because of them. They weren’t, not when you’re around dancing like money is getting thrown all over you. 

How did you manage to get her so fucking horny with absolutely no interaction? You looked at her once since you’ve arrived. She could bet every cent in her bank account that you’re a witch! The sluttiest, sex-obsessed witch with good pussy. Not to mention, you’re so fucking sweet. 

Well, you used to be.

Ellie’s never seen this wild side of you. You’re always structured and organized and sweet like fucking honey. Somebody will get a cavity if they get too close to you. She can attest. 

All she could do was watch you and Abby trek upstairs with interlocked hands, something nasty stabbing in her gut at the sight. She knows she’s a hypocrite. A disgusting, vile hypocrite with the audacity to feel negatively about you seeing someone else. She’s fucked up and she’s horny and she wants you. Fuck, you have such good pussy. 

And the prettiest brown eyes. Fuck, fuck fuck fuck—

She hasn’t seen eyes that gorgeous since she fucking moved away for school. Since the last time she saw her. 

Seconds, minutes, it felt like hours went by as she replayed every interaction the two of you have had since you met. Sex, sex, sex, you trying to get closer, her getting upset at you trying, sex. More good— great sex. You're pulling the leash you have on her with your cunt, for fucks sake. 

She doesn’t know how long she’s been standing off to the side, but the person that fucked up her neck disappeared. Probably took too long to fucking react because she’s too busy thinking about how tight your cunt chokes her dick. 

What the fuck were you and Abby doing? Ellie knows she’s a fucking hypocrite. 

She pulls her device out of her pocket to ease her stress, but her stomach plummets when she sees a message from Abby. 

Ellie’s such a fucking, goddamn hypocrite. 

She forces herself through the crowd and scurries up the stairs like the floors on fire, ducking and dodging drunk students that were in her path until she stood at the top of the steps.

She instantly hears you over the booming bass. A choked scoff leaves her before anything, your pleased cries ringing through her eardrums like a church bell, and she almost loses it in the middle of the hallway. She’s getting so wet and your moans are getting higher in pitch and she knows you're about to cum. Why’s she out of breath and pissed and drenched to hell?

The door’s right there. 

She takes a couple steps until she’s facing it, her hand resting on the knob. You always asked her to keep all entries open when she fucked you outside. You’re just as gross as she is. 

One twist and it’s over. 

She’s such a fucking hypocrite. 

Whoever owns this bed is going to need a new mattress. You’ve never been this wet in your life. 

Is it gross that staring into Ellie’s shocked, glossy eyes are making your pussy squeeze down on Abby’s dick? Even after all the bullshit she’s done, she still makes you drip like a faucet. Shame on you and your cunt. 

S—it down, you whimpered, and Abby chuckled. 

Abby’s harsh thrusts slowed when you cracked out your command, a harsh slap landing on your ass, and the arch in your back deepened. Ellie exhaled a harsh breath and shut the door behind her, her body falling against the wood due to her wobbling legs. The more you inspected her bruised chest, the angrier you became. Who was she trying to fuck now? A nasty smile grew on your face at the sight of her in complete disbelief. 

Abby pulled out until just the tip was inside before slamming her entire length back into you, your jaw slackening when an oh, fuck escape you and Ellie. You hardly recognized your own voice. 

Her eyes left yours and stared behind you, your core squeezing when her fists clenched at her sides and eyes darkened. 

S-Sit down. Be a good girl’n sit d-down, you whimpered, your walls squeezing on the silicone. 

She looked down at you again, her cheeks tinting a darker shade of red whenever you addressed her. Your glare hardened when she didn’t listen, and her body cowered, eyes sparkling before pushing herself off the wall and onto the small lounge chair at the front of the room so she was facing you. 

Ellie’s hands were fiddling in her lap as she took the scene of you: liner and glitter running down your cheeks in a heap of tears, bruised neck and tits pressed against her friend’s ruffled sheets, your ass bruised to hell. She could see your slick and cum glistening on Abby’s cock under the dim lamp of the room. Her boxers were a mess. 

Such a sexy little pornstar, isn’t she, El?

Ellie wanted to cry when you and Abby laughed lightly. This is the first time she’s been speechless when it came to anything related to fucking. She loves sex, but she’s always, always, in control no matter what. The lack of ability she had over the situation made her throat dry and clit throb. She’d never admit it, though. 

W-Wanted t’make me a pornstar so bad? You spat shakily. You’re gonna sit there’n record Abby f-fucking me. 

Ellie’s breathing increased at the demand. You always looked so fucking sexy on camera. A natural vixen, you are. She’s never been this wet. Fuck, fuck, please—

Take your phone out, El, Abby encouraged with a sly smirk, You know how wet this pussy gets on cam. 

Ellie’s body didn’t feel like hers, like her soul was floating above her physical form. She heard the soft platplatplat of your ass clapping on Abby’s hips before she realized the two of you were fucking again, your loud cries chiming through the spacious area. Your pussy sounded so fucking wet. 

Atta fuckin’ girl, tha’s my girl, c’mon, Abby groaned while she watched your cunt milk her dick. She would give anything to cum in you. See her cum flow out of you like water. Breed you fucking full. 

She couldn’t take her eyes away from your ass. The movement of it was hypnotizing and it was bruising beautifully. She almost retrieved her own phone from her jean pocket to take a picture for herself. Almost. 

Ellie’s arm moved on autopilot, her fingers digging in her pocket for her device. You caught a glimpse of the flashlight she accidentally turned on in your haze, and smiled, fucking back onto Abby to meet her thrusts. You kept your eyes on Ellie as she held her phone up, the quiet blip indicating that she was recording. 

Your eyes flickered from Ellie’s heaving chest to the two small lenses in the corner of her phone, your back arching deeper so that she could get a good look at your ass rippling from each thrust. Your nails dug into the duvet every time Abby brushed against your cervix, her dick plunging into your squishy cunt. 

S-She’s fucking me s’good, Ellie, fuuuck—

Your babbles were sloppy and nearly intelligible, mumbled together in a fast, wet muss of your tongue. You couldn’t think about anything except Abby’s dick and Ellie’s fucking camera. You couldn’t stop your eyes from rolling back every time your eyes passed over the lens. Ellie was right; Maybe you were meant for porn. 

Ellie… ugh, shit! C’merecomehere—

Ellie looked like a newborn deer trying to walk when she got up and stood directly in front of your sweaty, fucked out form. Her camera was right in front of your face, and a hazy, drooly smile made its way onto your face. You could feel your impending orgasm sizzling all the way down to your toes. 

M’gonna squirt, fuck, thinkI’mgonnasquirt!—

Both girls moaned aloud at your squealed warning, Ellie’s thighs squeezing right in front of your face. Her hands were shaking around her phone and… her fucking hands are so sexy—

Your pussy was in agreement; The squelching sounds of your wet walls got louder with your moans, your screams flying off the walls with Abby’s, your eyes glued on Ellie’s long fucking fingers and the veins in her hands—

Your tongue lolled out of your mouth and licked over all four of the digits clenched over her device. She squealed in shock but you didn’t care, pulling away with your tongue out like a dog, eyes begging for her to fuck your throat with them. 

Ellie held her phone with her dominant hand and dragged two wet fingers over the flat of your tongue, angling her phone so that the way your throat closed around them was captured. Ellie was whimpering to herself and desperate to fucking cum. Was she crazy or was she about to nut from you gagging and drooling all over your hand? She’s crazy; She has to be fucking crazy—

Her walls were squeezing so hard in her jeans; She might actually fucking cum. She’s a goner, fuck fuck fuck—

Milk her fingers like you're milking this dick, baby, that’s it, Abby moaned out before releasing a line of drool on your ass and rubbing it in with her thumb. You choked around Ellie’s thrusting fingers, eyes crossing in your head while your pussy cried. And squeezed so hard, Abby almost couldn’t move. You felt your juices leave you in a light spray as Abby announced her orgasm, squealing about how swollen you’re going to be with her cum. You’re cumming, you’re cumming so fucking hard—

Your head dropped onto the edge of the mattress, Ellie’s spit coated fingers ripping from your mouth and you screamed, your cum drenching the bed and Abby’s dick and waist, your clit jumping with every pulse of your walls. You couldn’t keep yourself upright any longer, falling completely flat onto the bed as your body thrashed from pleasure you could hardly bear. Abby’s body laid flat on top of yours so she could force her dick deeper into you, fuck more cum out of you and milk the last bit of her orgasm.

You sobbed from the intensity, but Abby didn’t stop until your hand flew back to push her off you. She planted one wet kiss on the back of your neck before gently pulling out. Your thighs were still shaking and your clit was twitchy, but you felt so good. 

And so much better. 

It took a minute for your teary eyes to peel open. Ellie was crouched down on the floor with her knees to her chest, heavy breaths and light whines leaving her mouth while her lashes fluttered. 

Abby chuckled behind you, landing one playful smack on your ass before leaning over your form to whisper in your ear. 

Think she came when you did, She snickered.

A breathy giggle left you. Ellie couldn’t meet your eyes, hers glued to the hardwood. 

Your auntie was right; Maybe revenge was the way to go. 

You shut the bathroom door and made your way back to the bedroom, where a dazed Ellie was sitting on the bed. 

Abby left with a see you soon and a kiss on the cheek, leaving you and Ellie alone to suffocate in silence. She looked lost in thought as her finger tapped on her thigh, her teeth digging into the dry skin of her lip. You breathed heavily before walking to tower over her. 

“I want you to send me the video,” you spoke stoically, nothing bothering to wait for her to speak.

She nervously met your eyes for the first time since you orgasmed, eyes glossy like a puppy getting scolded, before grabbing her phone from where she tossed it on the bed. She shakily tapped a few times before your device vibrated in your hand. 

“Now delete it. Delete everything. Every video, every Snap. All of it,” your voice was sharper than a blade. 

You loomed over her as she scrolled through all of your memories together, your cheeks warming at the sound of your moans and cries of her name, watching closely as she trashed all the footage of the two of you fucking since you met. 

Whenever you were confident that no evidence remained, you ensured she would never hit your line again. 

“Block me, Ellie. On everything.”

She exhaled shakily before doing so on every platform and line of communication. You spun on your heel when she finished without another word, heart heavy, leaving the room and shutting the door behind you to retreat back to the lively environment downstairs. 

You deleted Ellie’s contact information when you reached the bottom of the steps. 

Ellie was absolutely distraught. And the horniest she’s ever been in her fucking life. 

She refused to move from her spot on the bed until a couple shoved into her friend’s room, eager to rip each other’s clothes off. She had too little and enough sex for tonight. She cringed when she got up and felt her cum squishing in her boxers. 

… She can’t believe she busted from just your tongue on her hand like a fucking loser. 

She didn’t bother to wait for Jesse and the rest of the soccer team like normal, opting to walk home and regain some peace of mind. The cold shocked her body when she stepped outside of the packed house, the melting ice crunching under her sneakers. 

Much to her dismay, she thought about you the entire stroll. Her mind raced, flooding with images of you getting absolutely destroyed by Abby. And looking up at her while you sucked the life out of her fingers. And your sparkly fucking eyes whenever you laughed at something stupid and unfunny she said. 

She fucked up, she fucked up so bad. 

Anxiety was stirring in her gut all the way up to her and Jesse’s apartment. 

Ellie hoped you wouldn’t be too mad at her when everyone returned to campus, but she felt vicious, unfiltered rage radiating off your body when you loomed over her. The disappointment she was so used to seeing after turning you down was replaced by disdain, and it made bile rise in her throat. Your composure used to impress her, but now she was terrified of it. 

You actually fucking hated her. 

Dina mentioned how she might’ve awakened something that you tried to keep hidden, but she didn’t care enough to listen. 

Ellie didn’t intend to hurt your feelings, but she did want to keep you at a distance. You were caught in a crossfire you never needed to be in, and she didn’t do enough to stop you from getting hit. 

She sees so much of her past in you. The moments of eagerness and joy and elation she felt in her younger years, it all crashed into her the second she stared into your eyes for too long. She almost saw roses blooming in them. She grew to despise your optimism very quickly. 

Ellie shoved her key so hard into their door she thought she bent it, ripping it open and slamming it shut. All her weight fell against the wall and she sighed. Her head was pounding and so was her clit. 

You’re so fucking hot. What the fuck. 

Her hands ran down her face in exasperation before she kicked her shoes off, unbuttoning and removing her jeans and soaked boxers. 

She slid down the door and squatted, her fingers instantly finding her twitching clit. She sighed at the sensation before dipping her digits lower, pushing past her entrance and collecting her juices to bring back to her rosy bud. She alternated between rubbing and fucking into herself, moaning into the dark space of the living room. 

She couldn’t unsee… you. Everything about you. Your scars, the dark hairs of your furrowed brows, your plump, wet lips slobbering all the way down her wrists. The deeper she reached, the hotter she became, her sweaty bangs clinging to her forehead. 

A-Abby, fuck me h-harder, please? 

Am I a good girl? M’your good girl?

M’so wet, oh god!

You fuck me t-the best! Yeah, yes yeah—

Your voice was the only thing ringing through her empty brain. Anyone would’ve been embarrassed, disgusted, traumatized by what you and Abby did. The two of you shattered her completely, breaking down every barrier she built for herself for so long. Distance was no longer her priority; She wanted to be in between the two of you so fucking bad. 

She was already so close, so close to tipping over, to wetting her fucking floor, all because of you. Fuck, she fucked up; Was it too late to tell her you were the best— one of the best she’s ever had? She has to protect her pride somehow, even if it’s pointless. 

She dug into her cunt harder, grinding her fingers into the spot that made her see stars, sent her to fucking heaven. Your name left her mouth in an almost manic cry, whimpering the syllables over and over again until she crashed, legs closing around her wrist when her pleasure shook her form. She shoved three unoccupied fingers into her mouth and swallowed around them, fucking her throat and her cunt at the same time, trying to replicate the feeling of your tongue on her again.

She almost cried when the sensation wasn’t the same. Nothing felt like your mouth, your tongue, and it sent a painful jolt in her heart. 

She came down and finally allowed her tears to fall, barely having the strength to ride out the last bits of her pleasure before she slumped onto the floor. Sobs escaped her in choked gasps. She’s a fucking idiot to be crying over you. Over the little twinkles in your eyes whenever you’re excited. 

Ellie’s a heartless, ungrateful hypocrite, and she ruined her billionth chance at redemption. 

ellie got bitched LMMMFAOOOOO

this is not a love triangle!!! or is it

jk its not lol

taggie waggies love yall down :3 @dyk3ang3l @iced-metal @sawaagyapong @kittnii @mariefilms @villainousbear @pick-me-up-im-scared @dragonasflowercrown @elsmissingfingers @bugaboodarling @freakumfilm @robinismywifee @ohitsjordynn @womenofarcane @inf3ct3dd @nil-eena @kaispaws @letsreadsomesins-shallwe @yuckyfucky @machetegirl109 @ximtiredx @mattm1964 @liabadoobee @tfuuka @aouiaa @lastofvenus

teaser, one, two, three, five

#fratadjacent!ellie #works 𖧧࣪ #ellie williams smut #ellie williams tlou #ellie the last of us #ellie williams #ellie williams au #ellie williams angst #ellie williams x black!oc #black!oc #black!reader #the last of us #lesbian #abby anderson smut #Spotify

[piratecaptainscaptainpirates]

Hey! This is extremely late but I feel like you'd adore this prompt.

Character study: Ed's beard caused sensory issues, required tedious upkeep, and was a source of performative masculinity. Finally, he's shaving it, and seeing "Ed" for the first time in decades. Super healing, cute, positive 💜

You're right, I absolutely adored this prompt!! This took a minute because I wound up going in a completely different direction at first, wasn't satisfied with it, and it sat in my drafts, and now I actually fuckin' love it. This one's set in a modern AU with a trans Ed, because that's a delicious little wrinkle. Bon appétit.

(Never too late to send me prompts for 1k word fics, by the way! I can't promise they'll all get done but if they inspire me, I'll do 'em eventually. These are great for writer's block)

--

No one could accuse Ed Teach of disliking hair care.

That was something his mama had instilled in him from a young age. His hair was also his pride in his heritage, in where he came from, and taking care of it was an important way Ed could take care of himself and stay true to himself. His worst argument with Stede, to date, was over which of them was taking up too much space on their shared bathroom counter with all the hair care products (they’d wound up putting up more shelving). The first time he’d let Stede help him wash his hair, after Stede had listened through Ed’s explanations of his hair care, was probably one of the most intimate moments he’d ever shared with another man.

His beard, though. That was a different story.

Ed didn’t hate the beard, most days. It had started out as a band-aid solution when he’d been struggling to be taken seriously with his baby face, and he’d wanted to prove he was as much a man as anyone.

Then he’d grown up, and he’d stopped looking like he’d just glued a few random hairs to his chin, and it became…him. It was big and striking and masculine.

“You know,” he’d confided in Stede a few nights ago, cuddled up under the covers together, one thigh and an arm thrown over Stede’s middle while Stede traced little patterns over Ed’s bare hip with a forefinger, “I don’t even like the beard.”

Stede blinked down at him. “You don’t…like your beard?”

“Honestly?” Ed ran his fingers through it. He liked how soft it was, liked putting little bows in it, liked how everyone saw him and knew without a doubt he was a man. “It’s itchy, and it’s easy for things to get stuck in it, and it makes my face all hot, and hair gets in my mouth, and -”

“Hm,” Stede said, shifting his hand up to scritch his fingers along Ed’s jaw, and Ed leaned into the touch. “You don’t have to keep it.”

It was Ed’s turn to pause in surprise.

“But I’m Blackbeard,” he said, a bit lamely.

“You can be whoever you want to be, beard or no,” Stede shrugged. “I’ll love you just the same, with or without it.”

Huh.

This morning, Ed woke up early, plugging in Stede’s electric razor and locking the bathroom door behind him. It wasn’t that he hadn’t wanted Stede to be part of this moment, but…he hadn’t seen his whole face in literal decades.

He wanted his reaction to be his and his alone.

Ed hesitated before he could touch the razor to his face for the first time. What would everyone think? He’d literally named his entire brand after this thing.

He took a deep breath. It didn’t matter what everyone else thought. It was about what Ed wanted. He could do what he wanted with his own body to help himself feel more himself and more comfortable.

At the very least, he told himself, it would save him time in the mornings. You don’t keep a beard that big looking that good without a very time-consuming beard care regimen. 

He used a hand mirror as he worked, looking at himself at too close an angle to be able to see his full face before he was ready for that. When he splashed water on his face, he shivered at the coolness of it against his sensitive skin.

He swept up all the clippings, taking care to avoid looking into the mirror over the sink. “Bye-bye, Blackbeard,” he whispered, tipping the clippings into the trash can.

Ed took a deep breath. Stede had said he’d love him, no matter what. He lifted his head, and he saw -

Oh.

His first reaction was that he looked a lot like his mother. He’d started trying to grow his beard out right after he’d first started taking T, and he hadn’t even realized how scared he was that he’d shave his beard off and see his dad under there until he got to see the opposite was true. He had a sharper jawline, but the rest was all her.

And he’d been scared he wouldn’t look enough like a man without it, too, but he looked…pretty, actually, and literally fine. He’d probably want to keep at least some stubble, because he really did just like how affirming facial hair was, but this was proof that he didn’t need the full beard to look like a man. He was a man, no matter what he looked like - the beard had just been his way of daring anyone to tell him otherwise.

“Hey, Ed,” he whispered, watching in the mirror as he brought his hands up to feel, tracing new wrinkles, soft skin, birthmarks and little freckles he’d long forgotten.

It shocked a quiet giggle out of him when he realized how nice it would be, to eat food without worrying about something getting into his beard. How nice it would be to feel soft things against his cheek, to -

There was an idea!

Ed darted out of the bathroom and practically launched himself back into bed, grabbing Stede’s hand to hold it against his face. He shivered in delight - Stede had touched his face before, of course, but he’d never felt it so clearly, his soft palms and warm fingers against his cheek.

“Mmf,” Stede mumbled, burying his face in the pillows in protest against being woken up.

“Babe!” Ed collapsed down onto his side so he could snuggle close and rub his clean-shaven cheek against Stede’s.

“Wh-aah!” Stede yelped as he opened his eyes to see Ed like three inches away. “Your beard fell off!”

“Shaved it,” Ed corrected, looking away. He hadn’t expected Stede to fucking scream at him -

Stede reached out, gently, cupping Ed’s chin to tilt his face for a better look. “Oh, Ed,” he whispered. “Aren’t you beautiful?”

Yeah, Ed thought with satisfaction. He sure fuckin’ was.

#ofmd #our flag means death #ofmd fic #my fics

[pessimisticoptimistsblog]

A/N – So, here is chapter one! Lots of detail to flesh out  characters and whatnot. Plus, we see Charlie! Hopefully, I captured her character pretty well. I plan on this story mostly keeping the same pace as the show, but with a filler chapter to cover the 6 month gap. This chapter takes place before the extermination that’s in the pilot and we all know the stuff on Netflix moved pretty quickly after that.

Prologue Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8

I hope you guys like this! I plan on starting chapter 2 tomorrow. Depending on if my brain decides it likes me, I could have it out by Monday? Or, if you guys want a longer chapter, probably Thursday. Constructive criticism is always welcome! Enjoy! 😊

CW: Language again

Chapter One

Meeting With the Princess

~PRESENT DAY~

“Listen, Valentino, Madame C said no discounts, no exceptions. Doesn’t matter if you’re a fellow overlord, no means no. Accept that before we remove all security detail from all of your “actors”, okay?” Nia was beginning to lose what little patience she possessed; the moth demon always made her angry especially when he was trying to take advantage of her boss. Valentino knew Madame C charged the most for security details because she paid the hell hounds better than anyone else, which meant they tended to work harder and more efficiently than any other security group. And, despite wanting top-notch protection for the more profitable souls he owned, Val hated having to pay the shadowy mute so much. Every month he attempted to negotiate a lower price, and each time he would push until he was threatened with a rise in his rate or termination of their contract.

The moth demon was getting just as irritated, he was so used to getting his way with any demon he considered below him, yet the shadowed overlord in front of him never seemed phased by his tricks. Instead he glanced from the hell hound before him to Madame C, her unsettling eyes narrowed and gloved hands clasped in front of her. “Well, if there’s no convincing you, I suppose that’s that. Just know I will be exploring my options, you’re not the only one providing guards these days,” Valentino said nonchalantly before rising from his chair and crossing his arms; his last attempt to maintain some sort of superiority.

Madame C sat back in her chair, a smirk crossing her face briefly knowing Valentino was bluffing. She turned her smirk into a grin before beginning to sign for Nia to relay her message.

“My boss says, ‘I understand your frustration. If you find comparable security for a better price, please do not hesitate to cancel your service with us.’ Hope that’s clear enough for ya’ perv.” Nia’s distaste for Valentino was clear as she finished and began to move towards the closed office doors. Opening one she motioned towards a hell hound from outside, “Echo, please show Valentino here the exit. His bill has been paid and his meeting is over.”

The muscular hell hound that entered the office was one of the most intimidating Madame C employed, scars from his younger days covered his arms and most of his face and his mouth seemed set in a permanent scowl. He narrowed his eyes at the moth demon, before gesturing towards the door, “Time to go, sir.” The two men left, Valentino seething but doing his best to cling to his pride, with Nia closing the doors behind them.

Nia made her way to the shadow demons desk, flopping down into a chair with a heavy sigh. “I fuckin’ hate that bitch. Don’t know why you still do business with him, C. Prick always tries to cheat you somehow.”

*He’s a paying client. Not happily, but his money helps me make sure everyone I employ can live comfortably, including you.* Madame C gives Nia an exasperated look, she knows none of her employees truly like being assigned to Valentino in any way or even just being around the pimp, but she also knows that without his contracts the other Vees would also pull out and with them a decent percentage of her revenue would be gone.

The young hell hound threw her head back with an exaggerated groan, “I know! Doesn’t make it any easier to tolerate him.” Nia then glanced at her notebook to see who would be walking through the doors next, her red eyes widening seeing the name C. Morningstar. “Oh shit! I forgot that was today! Fuck! The princess is your last meeting, you need me to grab some tea or something? Dammit, what do royal demons like? I completely forgot, I am so sorry, ugh!” Nia was pulling at her fur, distressed she had forgotten such a big deal appointment.

White gloved hands grabbed the she wolf’s wrists and guided them to the younger girl's sides before pulling away to sign, *Breathe Nia. Go grab 3 mugs of cocoa for all of us. We have enough time before she should be here.* Madame C’s hands ceased signing and returned to the papers in front of her, sorting out what needed signed and what could be filed away. Meanwhile Nia rushed out of the office and downstairs to the kitchen, trying to make the aforementioned drinks as quickly as possible without making an obscenely large mess.

As she began to make her way up the stairs to the office, the hell hound caught sight of long blonde hair and a flash of red clothing turning the corner at the top of the stairs. Recognizing Charlie Morningstar from her recent news interview, Nia picked up her pace as carefully as possible hoping to catch up before the princess reached the office. With only a few drops of cocoa spilled, she met Charlie in front of Madame C’s doors only slightly out of breath. “Ms. Morningstar! It’s so nice to finally meet you, I’m Nia, Madame C’s assistant. I’m the one you talked to on the phone last week!”

Charlie’s grin widened, “It’s so nice to meet you! Thank you for getting Madame C to see me, I really think she’s gonna like what I have to talk to her about!” The blonde’s excitement was unrestrained, she was practically bouncing in place.

“I hope so, you made whatever it is sound like a great opportunity for us. Plus, boss lady loves working with royals. Says you all are her easiest and nicest clients!”

The two girls walked into the office, Nia making her way past Charlie to place the tray of cocoa on Madame C’s desk. The older woman looked up from organizing the remaining papers on her desk to the two girls before giving a small wave to the princess.

“Remember, Madame C can’t talk, so I’ll be interpreting for her. Usually first meetings like this are all about you pitching what you want or need, though. So whenever you’re ready, let’s hear it!” Nia smiled as she took a seat in one of the 2 chairs facing her boss, gesturing for Charlie to take the other.

The blonde took a deep breath before sitting down in the chair, pulling her own papers out of seemingly nowhere. She looked up at the demon in front of her, only seeing a shadowy outline with 2 bright green eyes already watching her. A gloved hand motioned for the princess to make her pitch. “Okay, so, I have a hotel for sinners to redeem themselves. I believe that if they work hard and do all the right things, heaven will have to let them in! And then the exorcist won’t have to come down and less sinners will have to die! It’s definitely going to work, I just have to talk to heaven… but I know they’ll say yes! They have to! But, anyway, I have the hotel and we have staff and our first resident too. The only problem is, since my interview on the news, some people haven’t exactly been open-minded or accepting and have kinda… destroyed several walls? Heh heh… but it’s totally not an issue! I know they’ll stop eventually and then they’ll all realize they want to be redeemed and come stay at the hotel!” The princess was out of breath when she paused to gauge Madame C’s reaction before moving on to what she really came for, unfortunately the shadow demon's eyes stared back almost blankly. Charlie took another deep breath and squared her shoulders, “What I’m getting at is, we could probably use a little help keeping people from blasting down our walls or breaking the door down. Plus! If sinners see that we have security to keep them safe from anyone that might want to hurt them, they’ll be even more likely to come stay! It'll a win-win!” Charlie finished with a grin, hoping the woman in front of her understood the vision she was trying to convey.

Madame C clasped her gloved hands together under her chin, the idea of redemption was intriguing to her even though she doubted many would actually want it. She began to sign while Nia translated, “Your idea is interesting. I can’t say I fully believe many sinners will want redemption, but I still would be more than happy to assign a couple of hell hounds to your hotel. The question then is, can you afford my fee? I believe Nia told you, I do not offer any discounts, not even for the princess of hell.”

At the mention of payment, Charlie cringed a little, she could afford it, but not without cutting costs elsewhere. “I was actually wondering if maybe we could make a compromise of sorts? You said you think it’s an interesting idea, so maybe you’d like to come stay at the hotel! You could stay for free, obviously, and work on redemption if you want, and then just knowing you’re there will deter people from breaking the hotel! No offense, but you have a scary reputation… But! That would work and then maybe we’d only need one hell hound that I would obviously pay for,” Charlie finished with a hopeful grin.

“No.”

One simple gesture made the princesses grin drop instantly. She glanced at the once smiling hell hound next to her to see Nia already looking apologetic. Both girls turned back to the shadow cloaked demon, Charlie ready to try again, but Madame C held her hand up to stop her. “My staying at the hotel would only put a larger target on you. And it would actually mean you would be paying for more hell hound security. I have at least 3 in this building and 2 outside at all times. Redemption is not for me either, heaven is full of hypocrisy and backstabbing. I have no interest in ever ascending to live with angels.” The last part of her explanation, Madame C’s hands and eyes expressed just how much she loathed heaven. “Unless you are willing to pay the fee you have been told, I’m afraid there is nothing more for us to talk about.”

Charlie was raking a hand through her hair, searching her brain for something, anything she could use to possibly make the older woman budge. “Isn’t there something you want or need that no one else might be able to get for you? Anything? I hate using my title, but I am the princess of hell, I can do a lot more than anyone else, except my dad of course…But please! I need this hotel to work, I have to do something to protect my people!”

Madame C smiled slightly, signing, “Unless you have some magic spell book that could give me a voice, I already have everything I could need or want. I’m sorry.” Nia seemed slightly confused as she translated, she never realized her boss might not enjoy being unable to speak. She had figured someone born with such a disability probably never cared for something they never had to begin with.

The blonde princess looked frustrated for a second, thinking over the fact she didn’t know of any such spell. Maybe her mom or dad did, but Lilith had been gone for 7 years and her dad… well.. maybe? She didn’t talk to her dad much, had no idea what he had even been doing recently. But, this hotel HAD to succeed! And she knew she’d need to ask him about a meeting with heaven anyway. There was no guarantee that such a spell existed or if Lucifer would even help a sinner, but it had to be worth a shot. Charlie’s head shot up, resolve clear on her face, “What if I can set up a meeting with my dad? Surely he’ll know how to give you a voice or if it can even be done. And then, would you make an exception on the contract? Even just a little?”

Madame C sat forward, surprised the girl in front of her would offer the one thing she had never been able to get. Schooling her features to not show just how elated her heart was for the first time in over 500 years. If anyone could break the chains her father had bound her in, it would be the king of hell. “Arrange the meeting. If he agrees, I will cover the cost of 1 hell hound so you will only be responsible for the 2nd. That is my final offer. If your father refuses to meet, no deal.”

Charlie jumped up, squealing and clapping her hands. “Don’t worry, I’m sure he’ll help! Thank you thank you thank you!!! I’ll call him when I leave and I’ll let Nia know what he says by tonight!” The princess couldn’t control herself, reaching for the shadow demon’s hands and shaking them vigorously before running out of the office, excited that her plans were all falling into place. Charlie popped her head back through the office door, “Thank you! I promise, you won’t regret this!” And with that, she was gone.

Meanwhile, Madame C shook her head softly while crossing her arms. Nia looked from the now closed office doors to her boss, chuckling lowly at the energetic princess. After a minute, though, her expression changed to one of contemplation. “I didn’t realize you might have an issue, not being able to talk. I’m sure Vox coulda’ made something to help, even if ya’ don’t like the guy,” she said softly.

Looking to her assistant, Madame C debated internally if she was ready to entrust the young woman with what she was about to divulge. Ultimately, she decided Nia would be smart enough to keep this secret once she knew. Stretching her fingers for the explanation she was about to give, the older woman debated how in depth she wanted to go. Finally, *When I came to hell, I had a voice. Unfortunately, a powerful man decided he didn’t like my existence. He used his power to seal part of my soul away and my voice so that I would never be able to tell anyone what he had done. He knew it would destroy him if anyone knew about me, so he hoped that by making me weak and vulnerable a sinner would kill me before I could ever find a way to break his chains.* A sad smile graced Madame C’s face, only noticeable by the sadness and tears her eyes barely held back.

Nia couldn’t believe her boss had held onto a secret like this for so long. That the woman before her had lived in hell as long as she had and become a powerful overlord with a portion of her sealed away. Madame C had had a voice at one point. The she wolf wondered what it sounded like. “I hope the king can and will help, I think I’d really like hearing you talk. And we could always still use sign when we need to talk shit about the Vees!” The two women looked at each other with big grins, Nia laughing a little.

*We should get back to our plans for the extermination coming up, I want to ensure everyone we’re protecting is secure this time – last year was a mess. I don’t want to lose a single sinner this time.* Madame C signed after a few moments, as giddy as she was with the possibility of getting her voice back, the extermination was in a week and she couldn’t afford another mishap like last year. It may have been the sinner’s fault for skirting their security detail, but Velvette had been particularly upset about losing one of her favorite girls.

Nia mock-saluted her boss with a grin, “Yes ma’am! I’ll go grab everything we’ve got and start making contact with each of our hounds that are on the ground. No slip-ups this year, only perfection!”

Madame C watched the she-wolf skip off to the file room with a small smile fading as she fell into her thoughts and relaxed back into her chair. A gloved hand reached up to the center of her chest, anytime she came close to spilling the whole truth, she could feel the chains around her soul tighten. The ache was one she hadn’t felt in so long, but she knew that if she gained this meeting with Lucifer she’d have to endure it again to hopefully sway him. The green-eyed woman felt so nervous but also hopeful, more so than she had since she was a small girl, running through trees with her mother. While she would never see the woman again, if she could get her voice back, she could finally get her revenge on the man who had ruined everything

A few short hours later, Nia and Madame C were wrapping up their last check-in calls and making notes of any sinners they suspected might try something stupid on extermination day. They both jumped slightly at the sound of Nia’s hell phone buzzing briefly on the table. The she-wolf put her pen down and checked the notification, her ears perking up at seeing the name C. Morningstar. She quickly unlocked her phone and clicked the text pop-up, red eyes scanning the message before a large grin split her face. Tail wagging, Nia looked at her boss, “She did it! You have a meeting with Lucifer 3 days after the extermination!”

~ A/N ~ likes and comments are appreciated and make me squeal a little every time!

#helluva boss #hazbin hotel #lucifer morningstar x reader #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin x reader #lucifer x reader

[sweeterthanthis]

Your Guilty Pleasure

Pairing: Stepdad!Lee Bodecker x 18+F!Reader

Summary: A girl’s journal is sacred. Full of secrets and fantasies that she doesn't intend for anyone else to see. What happens when the person you long for most discovers yours?

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, stepcest, daddy kink, infidelity, humilation, petnames (babylove, sugar, daddy), invasion of privacy, virgin reader, fingering, pussy eating, vaginal sex, blood play, very light tones of dubcon, coercion, innocence and corruption kink if you squint, a little fluff, a tiny sprinkling of breeding kink, and Lee’s filthy mouth. 18+.

Word Count: 5.4k

A/N: Thank you @navybrat817 and @dreamlessinparis for letting me screech about this, and for encouraging my hoe ways, and to @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog for beta'ing. I love you all!

All my works are 18+. If you click the read more tab, you are agreeing that you are 18 or over, have read the warnings and take responsibility for your own media consumption. I do not consent to having my work translated or posted anywhere else.

Dear Diary, 

I’m in trouble. I thought it was just a stupid crush, that it would go away eventually and I'd be able to sit across from him at dinner without feeling shy or anxious. It's bad enough that I have to be under the same roof as him sometimes, but tonight is worse. So much worse.

I can hear her screeching. I bet he hates that. He doesn't seem like the kind of guy to enjoy the screaming type. Too superficial. I'm such an idiot. How would I know? Like I have any clue what he likes. Can't they keep it down? 

I can't stop thinking about him. About what it feels like to kiss him. He's hugged me before, but I wanna know what it feels like to be held by him, ya know? When my mom told him he needed to watch his figure at dinner, I wanted to stand up for him. I wanted to tell her that I think he's perfect just the way he is. She doesn't even seem to like him most of the time. 

It's Friday night, and I'm laying in bed listening to my crush fuck my mom. How screwed up is that? Sometimes I close my eyes and imagine it's me he's fucking. It's okay, because it's not like I'm ever gonna tell him or do anything about it. If I can't have him, I can at least have my fantasies, right? I can keep them here. Nobody will ever read this. I'll make sure of that. 

I keep thinking about showing up at the police station. Bringing him lunch maybe. Mom never does that. I think about how happy he'd be to see me, and how much he'd appreciate the thought. But it never stops there. 

I think about him locking his office door and confessing his feelings to me. How he'd tell me that it's me he wants. That I'm pretty and he's been desperate to get me alone for months. I think about him kissing me, about what his tongue would feel like in my mouth. God, I'm wet just from thinking about it. I want him to take me. I want him to fuck me. 

Nights like this one are rare. They don't have sex very often. Fucking walls are cardboard thin in this house so I'd know if they were humping like rabbits. But the jealousy I feel having to listen to them makes me want to throw my goddamn journal out the window. I can hear him pounding her. Would he be gentle with me? Or would he fuck me even harder? 

I guess I'll never find out, will I? He's my stepfather. It's never gonna happen. 

"God-fuckin'-damnit," Lee grunts, fist wrapped around his throbbing cock as it begins to soften in his grip - the pages of your journal glistening with pearly drops of his come, bleeding into black ink. 

He thinks about trying to wipe the pages clean, but the ever present devil on his shoulder tells him not to. Closing the journal and slipping it back into your pillowcase, he wipes his sticky palm on your comforter and tucks himself away. 

Lee wonders if you know he takes a quiet moment with your memoir every chance he gets. That he gets off to the thought of you touching yourself over him. He doesn't know how much longer he can restrain himself, especially when you turn into a delicate, doe-eyed doll whenever you're in his presence. He has wondered why you always look so taken with him, and now that he knows, the thought of experiencing your body for himself rather than reading about all the things you want him to do to it on paper is too strong to push away. 

Dear Diary, 

This morning when I was washing up after breakfast, he brushed up against me. And I felt..it. I heard the little noise he made. At first I just thought I was imagining things, but now I’m not so sure. And he called me ‘sugar’ this morning. ‘Thank you, sugar’, he said. He’s never called me that before. What does it mean? I know it’s wrong. I know I shouldn’t want him like..that. But he’s just so..I don’t even know. He’s not like other boys. He’s not a boy at all. 

Am I going crazy? I feel like I’m going crazy. Mom left for work earlier than usual today. I think they were fighting about something. I tried to listen in, but I couldn’t hear what they were arguing about. I’ve spent the evening trying to stay out of (Lee’s) his way.

My underwear drawer was open when I got home. The new panties I bought are missing, too. I don’t think my mom would take them. Is that what they were arguing about? Does she know that I’ve been having these thoughts? If she did, she’d march me down to church by the collar of my dress. 

I don’t know if I can go back downstairs tonight. I’m not scared of him, I just..I don’t trust myself not to say something stupid, ya know? He’s the Sheriff. He’s not an idiot. Speaking of, he’s been wearing that damn uniform around the house more than usual and it’s driving me crazy. He always used to come home, shower and change immediately. Not anymore. Now he wears it until bedtime. It’s like he knows what it does to me. He doesn’t even take off that stupid utility belt, and I think he might know that I..

The light rapping of knuckles on your bedroom door makes you jump, snapping your journal shut as you shuffle up towards the pillows on your bed. You panic. There’s only one person it can be. Your mom isn’t due home until at least midnight. Just as you open your mouth to speak, the door clicks open. He stands there in your doorway, his thumbs hooked through his belt loops as he rolls back on his heels slightly. 

“What’cha doin’, sugar? Been awful quiet tonight,” he hums, narrowing his gaze at you as it drops to the journal hugged tight against your chest. You swear he almost smirks upon seeing it, slowly dragging his eyes back up to your face as he takes a few steps forward. “Holdin’ onto that thing for dear life. You got some secrets in there you don’t want your momma to know about?”

“No,” you bark a little too hastily, and he chuckles. His fingertips glide across the comforter draped at the end of your bed, his lips twitching into a smirk at the sight of your freshly painted toenails. You didn’t choose the cherry red polish because it was his favourite colour, the same colour has his favourite candy. Or at least that’s what you told yourself when you reached for it without a single thought to any other colour on your vanity earlier that night. “What-what were you and mom fighting about before?” 

Lee raises his eyebrows at you, shaking his head with a lopsided grin as he moves to perch on your bed. You shuffle nervously, tucking your legs beneath you to keep some distance from him. He’s too tempting. You can’t keep your thoughts under control when it comes to him at the best of times, let alone when he’s so close to you. 

“Nosy, ain't ya?” He teases, turning to face you, looking down at the worn notebook in your grasp once again. Goosebumps rise on your bare legs as you subconsciously tug at the hem of your night dress. Lee’s cool, penetrating stare is enough to set your skin on fire. He doesn’t give you the explanation that you asked for, instead humming as if amused, his fingers reaching for the confessional in your hands. You hold it tighter, your fingertips digging into the cover and your pulse thumping in your eardrum. “Since when did we start keepin’ secrets from each other under my roof?”

He can’t be serious. Your panicked eyes flit from his hand, to your chest and back again. A frantic shake of your head has him hushing you, his tone deceptively soothing as his touch lingers on the back of your hand. "I'm not keeping secrets, I swear. It's-it's my diary. Nobody's ever read this."

The grin that Lee shoots your way unsettles you somewhat, a knowing look on your face that has you wanting the ground to split open and swallow you whole. He can't have. There's no way he would've. There's no way he can know. "N-no. You haven't. You wouldn't." 

"I won't tell nobody what you've been cookin' up in that pretty head a'yours," he tells you softly, his palm settling at your ankle and giving it a little squeeze. God this, cannot be happening. You should have been more vague. You can't even try and deny that what you've written is about him. It was stupid of you to think that nobody would ever find it. "Gotta say, I'm kinda flattered, sugar. Ain't had a pretty little thing like you go all doe eyed over me in a long, long time." 

The compliment goes straight to your gut, warmth spreading to your core as you clench your thighs tightly and hope to god he doesn't notice. But he does. He notices everything, apparently. That's why you're in this predicament. 

"I'm not-," you stutter, feeling your cheeks heat up at his praise-like condescension, "I'm not 'doe eyed'. It's just a stupid crush. I didn't mean it." 

Lee clicks his tongue against his teeth with a smile, calloused palm gliding up towards your kneecap. You're frozen beneath his touch. You should move. You know you should move and tell him to get out. Threaten to call your mom and tell her what's happening. 

You don't.

"Oh, you didn't mean it, huh? Tell me," he pauses, sidling closer up the bed until he's seated next to your thighs, "what exactly were you writin' when I knocked on your door?"

Your tongue feels heavy in your mouth, and if you weren't holding onto your book of secrets so tight, you're pretty sure your hands would be shaking. You're torn. Torn between throwing all caution to the wind and living out your deepest fantasy and telling him to get the hell out of your room. Your cunt has already made her decision, fluttering and drenched from the slightest of touches at his rugged hands. 

"You're not shy are you, sugar?" He asks, walking his fingertips up over your bare thigh as his steely, cobalt stare eats you up from the inside out. Your nipples pebble against the thin cotton of your night dress, and the little groan that escapes from his throat at the sight has you clenching once again. "C'mon. Read it. Wanna hear how much of a silly crush you got on me." 

You shake your head from side to side defiantly, gritting your teeth as you grow more frustrated by his playful insistence. His hand settles, fingers nestled at the crease of your thighs and digging into your skin. They're trembling. They want to fall open for him, and it's taking everything in you to stop them from doing so. 

"Would it help if I wasn't starin' right at you?" He asks, as if that's the issue. He's not joking around at all, and for some reason, you're almost glad. Even if the last thing you want to do is read a single sentence about him from your diary. You tuck your bottom lip between your teeth as you shrink back against the headboard, thighs parting as you go. "Tell ya what, I'll go easy on ya. You show me what you were writing and I'll show ya my favourite entry, how 'bout that?"

"Your favourite..how long have you been reading this?" you ask him mortified, shaking his touch from your skin as you shuffle up onto your knees and hide your journal behind your back, out of his reach. 

Lee doesn't even flinch at your melodrama, instead loosening his tie and dragging his knuckles across the bedspread towards you; the tip of his index finger grazing your knee. He looks you dead in the eye, a look of intent lingering behind those pretty eyes. "I've read every single page, sugar. So ya see, there's no use hidin' away from me now. I know what you've been thinkin' 'bout."

Your mind wanders back to a few days ago, the night you caught him exiting your bedroom on your way back from washing up for the night. Your cheeks are hot, brow scrunching together as you internally debate your unlikely situation. You should want to scream at him, rage and cry over the fact that he invaded your privacy like this. That’s what your brain is telling you to do; the sensible part of your brain, at least. But your pussy? The way it dampens your inner thighs and aches to be touched by him? She just wants his attention, no matter the form it comes in. 

Lee’s brows arch in slight surprise as you slowly hold out your hand to him, giving him permission to take the diary from you and read your latest lovesick confession about him. You watch as he flicks to the last written page, a slow, sly smile curling on his plush lips. Tugging on your fingers, you wait. 

“Well, ain’t you the sweetest thing. Sounds like that crush you got ain’t so little after all is it, sugar?” He teases you, his eyes scanning the page once more before he flips back a few entries; handing it back to you as you take it with shaky hands. “Now this one; this one’s got me curious.” 

You want to sink into your mattress, your eyes struggling to read a single sentence of it coherently. Lee chuckles, his fingers toying with the hem of your nightdress. Maybe he’s drunk, you think. He doesn’t smell like bourbon though. Too early for him to be drunk. The semi cohesive part of your mind attempts to reason your way out of it, but the overwhelming desire to live out the fantasies you’ve been pouring over every night is too strong to ignore. 

“Get yourself comfy. Been a while since anyone’s read me a bedtime story,” he grins, and you roll your eyes at his incessant ribbing. Admittedly, albeit in a strange way, it makes you feel at ease somewhat. You do as he says, leaning back against your pillows and stretching your legs out on the bed in front of you. Lee tilts his head to the side, widening his eyes a touch as he silently urges you to obey his shameful command. “Go on, now. From the beginnin’.”

You pull your knees up to your chest, the vivid exposure that you’re about to give him making his eyes glint with anticipation. “D-Dear Diary..” you trail off, looking up from the page to him and training your eyes back down again, “I heard some boys talking at the diner today. Boys are disgusting and selfish,” you read quietly, shuffling your feet against the comforter as Lee nods for you to continue, his fingertips dancing over your shin and causing you to suppress a shudder. “They said-” you pause, nipping at your bottom lip with your teeth as your heart beats like a kickdrum in your chest, “they said boys aren’t supposed to eat pussy.”

Lee lets out a tsk of disapproval, his fingers hooking beneath your knee. His touch is firm and cool against your clammy skin, and it takes every ounce of composure within you to regain your concentration and continue. “They said that they’d never do it, because that’s not what girls are for.” Anger bubbles in your belly as you remember the way they laughed, egging each other on. “I wonder if they’re right. Afterall, whenever I’ve heard my momma and her friends talking about sex none of them have ever mentioned that.”

“Do you think those boys are right, sugar?” he interrupts, moving closer as the heat from his body seeps against yours. He smells like leather and rain, and you can’t help but clench your thighs once again and gulp. His eyes tell you exactly where he’s going with his, devouring you as the silence ticks on. 

“I mean, well, maybe?” you mumble, fiddling with the corner of the page and watching as it curls upwards. His arm hooking beneath your leg makes you gasp and Lee’s stare rolls up to meet yours. He doesn’t say a word, instead tugging your body closer to him as your legs part of their own free, and eager, will. His fingers stroke at the damp flesh of your inner thigh, and you whimper at the motion. Any moment now, you’ll wake. It’ll all have been a dream. But your dreams never felt quite like this. Bravery sparks in your gut. “D-Do boys eat pussy?”

“No babylove,” he hums, and the term of endearment has you swooning internally. Lee sinks to his knees next to your bed, pulling you to the edge of the mattress with him, his big hands spreading your legs wide and his eyes hungrily soaking in the sight of your cotton covered cunt. “Boys don’t eat pussy. Men do. Keep reading.” 

You’re speechless, wide-eyed and strung up inside at the way he talks, the way he looks at you. Like you’re a 8 course tasting menu and he’s about to indulge. You roll your hips just a little, a quiet gesture of consent should he choose to accept it. “I-I wonder if he’d eat my pussy. Probably not. I wouldn’t even know where to look, having somebody down there. What if it’s not..pretty?” 

“Oh, it’s fuckin’ pretty. I know it’s pretty.” You gasp when he curls two fingers beneath the gusset of your panties, slowly peeling them to the side and exposing your aching, virginal cunt to his gaze. This isn’t happening, you think to yourself, mouth gaping while you watch him nuzzle his face against your thigh; dragging his nose across the sensitive pearl between your legs. “Knew you’d smell good, babylove. Sniffin’ those sweet, little panties a’yours just ain’t the same as the real thing.”

“L-Lee..” you whimper, your feet digging into the sheets as your body works on instinct to try and put some space between the two of you. You knew someone had been in your underwear drawer. You’re trapped between his mouth and the headboard, your breaths heavy as he looks up from between your legs. “C’mon now, sugar. Ain’t got to the best part yet.”

“W-would he like the way I taste-oh!” His tongue flattens against your cunt, the sound it makes sending sparks straight to your gut, slick between your folds as your hole clenches against the wet muscle. You feel dizzy, your vision blurring from the sheer disbelief coursing through your veins. 

“Fuckin’ delicious. Better’n candy. Keep readin’,” he grumbles, slurping at your cunt and swiping the tip of his tongue back and forth across your clit. The fact that he’s expecting you to continue while you try to remain composed is maddening, but you push through. 

“I’ve heard him-fuck-heard him with my mom. He knows what he’s doing. Sometimes I think about him coming into my room at night and slipping beneath my sheets. I wanna know what it feels like to have his mouth on me,” you confess, letting your head fall back against the headboard. It’s too good. Too much. Not fucking enough. Lee’s hands grip your thighs roughly, spreading them wide open so he can get his fill. You whine shamelessly as he nuzzles his face from side to side against your drenched pussy, his cheeks glistening with your slick. “Please, can’t read anymore.”

“Jus’ a little bit more, babylove. Do it for daddy,” he smirks, his teeth grazing your fleshy mound. Your eyes bulge, a lump forming in your throat at the title he’s taken for himself. The title you gave him. Lee presses the tip of his index finger against your untouched hole, circling it and spreading your arousal up towards your clit. “You wanna be good for me, don’t ya? Know you do. One last lil’ bit and I’ll give ya what you want.” 

You release your bottom lip from between your teeth, blowing out a shaky breath and doing your best to fulfill his wishes. Even with his lips suckling at your pussy lewdly and your hips bucking down against his face. “I know he’s s’posed to be my daddy now, but I don’t care. I want him. I want him to take my virginity. I just want him to notice me. ” 

The air is still, his lustful assault halted as he wipes his damp cheek against your leg, his greedy eyes never straying from your own. “You want me to pop that little cherry, babylove, or are you still gonna try tellin’ me it’s jus’ a lil’ crush?”

The speed in which you toss the journal aside surprises him, but you’re riddled with fiery lust and you can’t wait any longer. Your fingers grip his collar, impatiently tugging him up your body, the soft bulge of his belly pressing against your cunt. 

You think of all the times you’ve willed him to kiss you, all the times you’ve secretly wished to be beneath him like this. Your hands settle either side of his throat, looking to him to take the lead as your bravery ebbs away. You can feel him, hard against your inner thigh. “Gotta tell me what ya want, sugar. Ain’t gonna take it ‘less you tell me to.” 

You can't speak, your tongue too heavy in your mouth. You want it. You want it more than you've ever wanted anything. The scent of him is intoxicating when he's close like this, his warm breath fanning your cheeks as you breathe him in. 

Your mouth collides with his, the musky taste of yourself oozing from his lips to yours; his tongue eagerly seeking out yours as he groans and grunts against your lips. You claw at his shirt, making light-yet fumbled-work of the buttons. God, he's perfect. Just firm enough to overpower you if he chose, yet soft enough to envelop you and make you feel safe. 

"Lift those arms up for me, babylove." You do as he says instantly, trembling as he rucks up your nightgown and lifts it up over your head. The deep breath he sucks in through his nostrils at the sight of your tits doesn't go unnoticed by you. The more he looks at you, the more at ease you feel. "Look'it you. Fuck."

His lips chain down your throat, teeth grazing your nipples, one after the other. He makes you feel dizzy. The kind of dizziness you feel when you get off the tilt a whirl at the fair. Like you're floating on air and he's the only thing keeping you out of the clouds. You giggle when his tongue dips into your navel, lips sucking at the flesh of your stomach and leaving a slick pool of saliva in their wake. 

"Please, Lee. Did what you wanted me to do. Gotta gimme what I want now," you pout, arching yourself into him as he retraces his route back up your torso, sucking a bruise at your neck and smirking against your skin when you scold him for it. "Please, daddy." 

Your hands reach for him as he stands, shrugging his shirt off his shoulders, grinning at you as you ogle his body. You're hypnotised by him, completely enraptured by the masculinity that radiates from his body. 

You find yourself looking away when he removes his underwear, almost as if instinctive. You've seen him shirtless before, but naked? That's something you've never dreamed of seeing. "Gone shy on me again, sugar?" Lee teases, tugging your panties down and crawling back between your legs. 

"I didn't.. just not how I expected my night to go, is all." He chuckles at your sweet admission, resting his elbow next to your head and leaning down to devour your mouth again. You grind against him, the weight and warmth of his cock heavy against your clit making you keen for more. "Do it. I want you to fuck me, daddy."

"Jesus fuckin' christ, listen t'you." Your hands cling to his biceps, fingernails leaving little crescent moons behind on his skin as you mumble an apology, knowing damn well he wouldn’t be able to explain those away to your mother. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout this for a while now, you know that? Since Christmas, in fact. ‘Member you wore that pretty red dress with the green bow? Fuck, looked so pretty, babylove.”

Lee reaches down, gripping his length in his hand and tapping the swollen, pink head against your cunt. It clenches, and you can’t wait any longer. Your legs wrap loosely around his waist, and you lean up to steal one more kiss from him. “Please, daddy.”

The sound your pussy makes as he slips the first inch in makes you cringe a little, embarrassed at how wet you are - how much you want him inside you. Lee hushes you, stroking your temple with his thumb as he slowly splits you open, piercing through your purity and seating himself to the hilt with a lustful groan. “Tight lil’ pussy, jus’ for me. Be okay, sugar.” You sob as a sharp pinch of pain rings through your abdomen. “I know, baby. S’gonna start feelin’ real good any second, I promise.”

The second thrust brings just as much discomfort as the first, a stray tear rolling down over your cheek. Lee captures it with his tongue, the salty taste flooding your senses when he kisses you. Kisses you like you’re all the air he needs, and everything in-between. 

Your cunt barely adjusts to his size, and you can feel it all. The hard ridges of his shaft, the prominent vein at the underside of his cock. All of it. Pain melds slowly into comfort and hurtles into pleasure, your face contorting at each stretch of your walls. 

The filth that spills from his tongue is almost as addictive as his cock. Lee pushes your legs back against your chest, hitting an angle that has your body shaking. It's too much. Too much, and not near enough. You don't know what you need, don't know how to ask for it. But you don't have to; because he already knows. "Most girls don't get 'ta come on their first try. Gonna make sure you're one a'the lucky ones. Gonna come all over my cock." 

"There it is. There's that feelin'," he purrs, sitting back on his knees and tugging you further down the bed by your thighs. You let out a little moan, panting as his large hands pin you down at the hips; holding you in place as he sets his own rhythm. Your legs feel like jell-o, splayed open and tingling as he admires the sight of your cunt taking his cock; the crimson smears of virtue on his flesh making him grunt. "That little cherry belongs to daddy now, babylove," he gloats, gathering it up on the pads of his fingers before he reaches for your lips, nestling his digits against your tongue. "Bet its sweet like a fuckin' cherry, too."

You nod your head eagerly, babbling nonsense as you hold your legs back for him, looking down entranced as he pounds into you. It's tender, aches deep in your bones. But fuck, it feels so good. 

Your first orgasm creeps up on you faster than you anticipated, tight, little ministrations of his thumb against your sensitive nub helping you along as your body tenses beneath him. You don't have time to recover, not when he's sitting back against the headboard, tugging you onto his lap and sinking your cunt back down onto his dick. It burns hotter now, that feeling in your belly that you've already grown to crave. 

"Wanna watch you, babylove. Wan' you to ride daddy. Know you been humpin' on that pillow. It's just like that," he tells you gently, his rough hands gripping your waist and guiding your movements. You wind your hips back and forth, grinding yourself down against him as he let's you set your own pace. "That'sa good girl. You got it. You're a fuckin' natural." 

His praise urges you on, your hands settling on his broad shoulders and raking down over his soft chest as you rise and fall gently on his shaft, flesh slapping with flesh as his thighs hold you steady. Lee’s hands move to cup your tits, pinching at your nipples and caressing your clavicles while he watches you pleasure him. The look on his face has you fucking him harder, with more intent. You want to drag the same pleasure he gave you, out of him. 

“C’mon daddy,” you whisper, and the sound is debauched coming from your lips. He grits his teeth, bending his knees and thrusting up into your soaked cunt. You’re so high, so fucking high on the feeling he gives you. His hand grips your throat, and you preen at the notion, pushing further into his grasp and letting him use your pussy for his own gain. Stroke after stroke of bliss, that newly familiar heat in your gut rising once again. 

“Can’t-shit-can’t come inside you, babylove.” Your brow crumples in disappointment, riding him with a new insistence that has him cursing under his breath. The sharp slap of his palm against your ass, followed by a possessive grab at your flesh makes you cry out, a low rumble escaping his throat. “You want daddy t’keep fuckin’ you? Won’t be much of a secret if you got my baby in your belly, will it?” 

His words shouldn’t affect you the way they do, the thought of his seed deep inside you, your body belonging to him completely - it’s fucking riveting. He can see it on your face too, and a twisted smirk forms on his lips; sharp thrust after sharp thrust, stretching and molding your cunt to perfection. Lee pulls his cock free, a disappointed whimper catching in your throat. “Stroke daddys cock,” he instructs, guiding your hand as you wrap your fist around his heavy girth and jerk him slowly. You’re not sure if you’re doing it right, but if the sounds coming from his mouth are anything to go by, you most certainly are. 

“That’s it, sugar. You got it. Jus’ like that. So fuckin’ close,” he hisses, returning the favour and letting his fingers toy with your cunt, two fingers slipping in and out of your used hole and massaging that tender spot inside you. You could watch him teetering on the edge of bliss for hours. You know he’s waiting for you, know he wants you to feel good. But you’re too focused on him to let your guard down long enough to come again. “Can’t hold back much longer.” 

“Then don’t hold back, daddy. I wanna watch you. Wanna see what you look like. Wanna remember it,” you confess, wrapping your other fist around him and pumping him eagerly in both hands. It’s beautiful, his cock throbbing and threatening to burst all over your fingers. You gasp softly at the first droplets of come, licking your lower lip and wondering what it tastes like. He yells out a curse, gripping the sheets beside him and jerking his hips up into your hands, letting you milk him dry until he’s whimpering. “Beautiful daddy,” you praise him, the warmth of his spend coating your fingers, sloppy wet against his stomach. 

You try not to look at the clock on the nightstand, knowing your mother is probably due home sooner than you’d like. A twinge of guilt hits you, but you shove it away, determined to enjoy the feel of Lee’s body against yours. Your body sags against his, head resting on his chest as he tucks your head beneath his chin. His arms are tight and firm around you, lips grazing the top of your head and his cock pulsing as it softens against your belly. 

You’ve always wanted to know what it would feel like to be held by him.

And now that you know, you don’t think you'll ever get enough. 

A/N: I no longer have a tag list, but if you want to keep up to date with what I post follow my sideblog, @sweetersficlibrary​, and turn on alerts to be notified whenever I post something new 💕

#lee bodecker x reader #lee bodecker x you #lee bodecker fanfiction #lee bodecker smut #lee bodecker imagine #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan smut #sebastian stan fanfiction

[444takeomi]

BOYFRIEND HCS pt 3

: ̗̀➛ summary: takeomi as your boyfriend

character(s): takeomi akashi

warnings: female reader, sfw but still suggestive, mentions of smoking, ooc (i know he's a piece of shit but let me live in denial)

wc: 0.8k

a/n: literally everyone hates him so this post will definitely flop💀 apologies for being so inactive, i’ve been super busy these past few weeks — i wanted to write something for shin's birthday but i just didn't have the time😭

- i feel like omi is the kind of boyfriend who acts like he doesn't care but is secretly very soft for you

- he won't admit it but he has a hard time expressing his feelings — you fell for him first but he fell way harder, and he wishes he could tell you how much you mean to him </3

- he's the type to tell you that he loves you when he thinks you're asleep, and if he's sure that you're out cold he'll gently kiss your forehead as well

- the first time you told him you loved him he cried </3

- i think that omi is secretly a very insecure person, and deep down he feels like he's undeserving of love and thinks you're too good for him

- gets self conscious about his scar sometimes — he loves when you randomly kiss it and tell him that he's handsome, it makes him feel all warm inside <3

- for dates he usually takes you out to expensive restaurants, but sometimes you'll do something more casual like going to art galleries or museums or going shopping together

- every time you walk through crowds he puts his hand on your waist or lower back

- whenever you go on a date he always insists on paying for everything, he loves to spoil you <3

- omi’s love language is definitely gift giving, and he’s often buying you expensive presents — whether that's perfume, jewellery, or whatever it is that you're into

- he always seems to know exactly what to get you, you don't notice it but he pays very close attention to you while you're shopping together and takes note of what you like

- omi is surprisingly a huge gentleman — he always opens your car door for you, carries your bags, offers his coat to you when it's cold, etc

- whenever you have an argument he buys your favourite flowers as an apology </3

- sometimes he has trouble sleeping, but if you run your fingers through his hair he'll be out like a light

- he randomly wakes up in the night and starts coughing up a lung💀 if you're not a heavy sleeper then good luck

- it's no secret that he smokes way too much, please encourage him to quit or at least cut down — he won't listen to anyone but you

- if you don't smoke yourself then omi will always make an effort to put out his cigarettes whenever you're around, or at the very least blow the smoke away from your direction

- you're the only one who he will let poke fun at him because of his habit, you sometimes joke that you won't kiss him anymore if he carries on smoking because of his stale cigarette breath, and he just rolls his eyes at you and fights back a smile

- he would rather die than admit it but he still gets butterflies when you tease him </3

- he's got such a loud sneeze and it always scares the shit out of you, it's a whole jumpscare💀

- i feel like he has very stiff shoulders, sometimes he asks you to massage them for him — the only problem is he can't control the groans and praises that fall past his lips, and if anyone were to overhear him they would definitely think that something else was going on💀

- “fuck, that's it, baby… feels so fuckin’ good…”

- anyways😶

- sometimes you do skincare together, and omi would be lying if he said he understood any of it — he gets so confused when you put cucumber slices on his eyes or use a jade roller on him

- he does love the feeling of you applying different products to his face though, you're always so gentle with him <3

- omi loves to take bubble baths with you and just hold you in his arms, sometimes he goes all out with candles and rose petals, it's very romantic

- it rarely leads to anything more, sometimes he just needs to hold your body against his </3

- he's actually super protective over you, whenever you're out in public together and he notices someone else looking you up and down he gets all possessive, instinctively putting his arm around you and glaring at them

- there have been times where he's gotten into fights because someone wouldn't leave you alone at a bar, but that usually only happens when he's drunk

- speaking of which, drunk omi gets very emotional most of the time and will whisper slurred professions of his love in your ear, telling you how he doesn’t know what he did to deserve you and how lucky he is to have you </3

- he’s not always the best at showing it but omi loves you so so much, he truly thinks you're one of the best things to happen to him and he can't believe he actually gets to call you his <3

please do not translate, repost, or share my writing on any other platforms eg. tiktok

#tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #takeomi akashi #takeomi x reader #takeomi x you #✩444.writings #✩444.headcanons

[icarus-does-fall]

The actual cod fic I've been meaning to write 💪

Aka I wrote the first paragraph like... two weeks ago, then did other things and then wrote the rest of it in two hours ^_^

Anyway it's a poly fic, Ghost, Roach and Soap- it's also fluffy as hell an super sweet

Please enjoy <3

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤..𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

Ghost, a cold man, un-emotional, harsh, hostile, a killer. Those that saw him walking the halls moved out of his way, people walked on eggshells around him.

Simon, a warm man, a man kept hidden from everyone except a select few. One who smiled, laughed, had a home and melted at his lovers’ touches. Simon who carried in all the groceries and demanded morning cuddles even if it made him and others late.

So how did a man as harsh as Ghost, find the people that broke past his walls, to make his two sides collide?

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

“MacTavish!” Price shouted, and it was in that moment Soap knew he fucked up.

Soap wasn’t stupid by any means, he was the 141s demolitions expert, a little bit of a maths genius and he knew multiple languages. Yet he was also a child at heart and he couldn’t resist the occasional prank.

“Capt'n! Is a pleasure, whit kin I do ye fur?”

Price scowled. “Ya bloody nearly blew half of the barracks, an’ now the other half is covered in glitter- What exactly were you trying to achieve there?”

“Jist a wee bit o’fun Cap’ naethin’ too serious… Ah might've gaen a bit o’erborard but naebody ‘round here seems to ken how to lighten up- ‘cept maybe Gaz an’ Roach. Place jist needed some colour is aw Cap.”

Price's scowl deepened before he simply shook his head and sighed. “You're on clean up duty till the barracks are back to normal- Ghost is supervising you and the rest of ya muppets to make sure nothing else breaks.”

“Shite- Ghost? Why can't… uh… literally anyone else keep an eye oan us? Swear that man hates our guts, he’d raither shoot us than listen tae us talk.”

At that Price let out a gruff laugh and clapped Soap on the shoulder before sending him on his way towards the rest of the so-called detention group. “That's the exact reason, Ghost will keep ya muppets in line cause I got other stuff to take care of instead of babysittin’.”

Soap merely sighed he knew there was no getting out of the punishment that Price had set up for him and the rest of the “troublemakers” on base. He marched his way towards the barracks, as he ran into Gaz, Nikolai and Alex all marching towards their doom as well.

“How’d ye lot pish off Price tae end up wae Ghost in detention?”

Nik simply rolled his eyes as Soap joined in with the little group walking towards the barracks for clean up. “It's all your fault that we’re in this mess MacTavish.”

Soap baulked, “My fault? Whit gies ye that idea?”

“Because we were helping cover your ass- And now John is pissed at me so I’ve been kicked out of bed-”

Gaz cut in before Nik could keep talking. “I'm here cause I was stupid enough to think we wouldn’t get found out, so not really on ya, its more of uh mutual screw up but still, we could’ve done better we’re stuck with fuckin Ghost of all people now… I know he's on our team ‘n all but he scares the shit out of me sometimes.”

Alex however just rolled his eyes and continued on walking, while he loved his team and the occasional chaos they all could get up to, he knew the punishment they were facing was all their faults in the same faction or another and there wasn't any true reason to argue (or blame) it all on Soap. No matter how much Nikolai wanted to simply cause Price kicked the poor guy out of bed.

Soap tsked and walked ahead of the group, slinging his arm around Gazs shoulders with a grin. “You lot worry tae much, surely a wee Ghosty can't be tae harsh.”

The rest of them exchanged glances and laughed at how optimistic Soap was, for an intelligent guy, sometimes he was kinda stupid. But of course that's what made him ever so loveable, by the lads and the ladies.

Not long after their short chat in the hall they made it to the barracks and there was Ghost, standing at the entrance clad in his uniform and mask. The group immediately sobered up and waited for Ghost to speak. He didn't. He merely grunted with a nod and made sure each of the four walked into the barracks. “Price put in charge. You lot are gonna clean, and there won't be any games- Get to it.”

The four grumbled up, picked up the brooms and dustpans that had been laid out and began to clean. Ghost leaned against a nearby wall and supervised the clean up. Soap would make an odd joke here or there causing Gaz or Alex to throw something in his direction leading Ghost to bark orders in their direction to knock it off- For the most part Nikolai kept his head down and did what he was told, merely grumbling about how it was unfair and was a rookies job, not for him.

And the four cleaned until well past dusk, other soldiers on the base working their way around them to make their way towards their beds, all casting pitiful glances in their directions as the rest of base headed off to bed. At one point even Price stopped by to collect Nik, leaving just three left to keep cleaning.

“Aye Ghost, keep them muppets on task till this place is spotless- but I am taking Nik back, beds getting lonely. Kicked ‘em out for nearly a week now.”

Ghost nodded at the order. If nothing else the man was loyal and followed orders like a well trained dog- Which Soap of course made a comment on.

“Like a dog aren't ye Ghost? Trained for on an’ aff the field are ye?”

Ghost scowled underneath his mask and in a low grumble, one that spent shivers down people's spines as he spoke. “You think you're any better ‘cause ya make noise? You're just as much of a bloody dog as I am MacTavish, so quit your yapping ‘for we muzzle ya.”

Soap flushed and chuckled nervously as he for once did as he was told and stopped talking. He went back to cleaning and Gaz and Alex exchanged semi-nervous glances, it was suddenly very tense and heated where they all stood.

At least it was until Gaz spoke up. “Sooo- If we muzzle Soap that mean he gets a leash too? Cause the pet store has these ones with bells on ‘em, got one for my cat cause I kept losing her in all the pillows back home.”

Alex laughed and shook his head, “Nah mate Soap looks more like the type of guy to wear the muzzle and still keep growling… Unless of course he’s secretly into that sort of that thing~”

Soap huffed and with his cheeks still a slight red threw his arms over the twos shoulders, turning his growl into a cheeky grin and playful wink. “Ye ken ye just have tae dae is ask if ye wanna find oot whit kinda beastie I am in bed~”

Gaz scowled playfully and lightly shoved Soap off of him with a laugh. “Yeah right, my girl would have my ass if I took you to bed Soap and we both know it- My ass and your dick would be hanging on her wall for trying to mess with her.”

Soap grinned and then poked Alex in the cheek. “Sooo whit’s that saying aboot ye then?”

Alex shook his head as he chuckled and rolled his eyes. “Yaknow for being so smart, you're a terrible flirt sometimes Soap, honestly I’ve heard my abuela do better than that and she's almost 95.”

Soap pouted and his eyes flickered towards Ghost before he laughed and shook his head, sure he was goofing off but he wasn't going to try and test his luck that much- Not while the mans already pissed off at them all anyway. He knew Ghost could have a laugh every once and a while but it was a hard achievement to get.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

It was nearly 4 in the morning by the time the four- turned tree of them finished cleaning while under the supervision of Ghost who stood as still a stone the entire time. A couple times it was brought into question if he was still awake, or was blinking. In which he scared them with a response and coincidentally shut them up at the same time.

Once they were allowed to depart they were nearly sleep deprived for all the cleaning. Staying up 48, even 72 hours for a mission was no problem but to make them clean and they were whipped out after just a few hours of work.

Gaz and Alex went to bed almost immediately, but Soap in his sleepy and ever intelligent state decided to be a menace to Ghost just a bit longer. So as Ghost was turning to walk away Soap caught up with him and swung his arm over his shoulder with a cheeky grin. “Aye Ghosty! Ye never answered the question of seein’ me in bed ye ken.”

Ghost scowled slightly and shoved Soap off of him with a growl. “Because it was a stupid question. How can you be so smart and yet so bloody stupid all at once?”

Soap rolled his eyes as he kept pace with Ghost and huffed slightly. “Not stupid, just know how to have fun unlike some people around here- I might need a muzzle but I’m not kept on a leash like you are.”

Ghost stopped walking. Dead in the middle of the hallway he stopped walking and turned to Soap with a glare, it was a dangerous and deadly look. “On a leash? What, want me to prove I think for myself?”

Soaps grin came back in a flash and he laughed, “obviously.”

It was almost sunrise, but for now the base was quiet, it was just the two of them in the halls and so Ghost did something unexpected. He pinned Soap up against a nearby wall, one hand on his waist and the other tugging up his mask just slightly so it sat on the bridge of his nose before his lips crashed down onto Soaps leaving him in shock as a slight gasp and whine slipped past his lips.

The kiss only lasted for a moment, less than a second even before he pulled away and tugged his mask back down but not before Soap caught a glance of a grin playing on Ghost's lips. “How’s that for thinkin’ for myself eh Johnny?”

And then he began to walk away.

Soap was left agape and blushing redder than a firetruck when Ghost walked away from him. “Bloody hell- Naeb’dys luck that that just happened right? Fuck meh.”

Ghost grinned from underneath his mask, the crinkle by his eyes gave that away as he looked over his shoulder and back towards Soap for a moment. “Ask nicely and I might.” And with that Ghost turned the corner and disappeared from Soap's sight, leaving the Scotsman more flustered than he was to begin with.

So of course once Soap was able to calm down and gather his thoughts he rushed into the nearest room- He simply needed someone to tell all of this to and at this point he didn't care who it was.

It was Roaches room that he ended up barging into at dark thirty in the morning, not that Soap cared what time it was anymore either. He was wide awake now and there wasn’t any chance that he was going to go to bed any time soon either.

Soaps accept was thicker than it had ever been as he took a spot on Roches bed and shook him awake. “Roach- Roach mate- Mo ghràidh!! gie yirsel a shake, bloody hell! I need somebody tae gab wi here mate, ah might juist explode otherwise! Come oan, please.”

Groggily Roach woke up after Soap shook him awake. His voice raspy and hair all a mess from just having been woken up as well. The sight caused another blush to rise to Soap's face but he quickly pushed it aside. “Fuckin hell man, what is it? People are still trying to sleep, not getting caught up in your schemes.”

Soap pouted and rolled his eyes. “Nae, nae that, nae schemes either- The lieutenant, thon wee bawbag kissed meh!”

At that Roach was sitting up in bed and seemed a lot more interested in what Soap was saying. “Wait- wait… You're talking crazy Johnny, I can barely understand ya mate… You're saying Ghost kissed ya?”

“Aye!!”

Roach chuckled, and shook his head as the sleep began to leave his body. “Well I’ll be damned- Is he any good?”

Soap openly blushed at that, which Roach noticed. “Aww the mighty MacTavish is blushing~ You like him then huh?”

“Oh shut ii Roach! I’m being serious here, the man kissed me! I didn't know he could do that-”

“What kiss people? He might be a killin’ machine but he’s still human, he’s still a guy.”

“Bloody hell, Gary! That's not the ficken point, I'm in crisis over here and you're having a laugh about it.”

“Course I am, you freaked out like this when I kissed ya drunk on new years- You're a decent kisser Johnny, expect the guy to come round for another one.”

Soap once again flushed red and then playfully pushed Roach away with a light glare and a huff. “You're an arse sometimes Roach, hope ye ken that.”

“Course I know that, I gotta be if i wanna be friends with you.”

Soap raised a teasing and mischievous eyebrow as he spoke next. “With all we do an’ we’re only friends? Here I thought we had something more going on than that~”

This time it was Roaches turn to blush, “Oh shut up! We can be friends and still something more at the same time- Now go chase after that lieutenant for us ye hear me?~ Somebody has to make the guy loosen up a bit and who better and a loose cannon and his boyfriend.”

A loud chuckle burst out of Soap's chest as he stole a quick kiss from Roach before moving to walk out of the room. “Aye sounds like the perfect plan.”

Yet as Soap moved to leave Roach pulled him back into his bed and it was obvious the two weren't going anywhere for quite awhile.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

While Soap was having his time with Roach, Ghost on the other hand was having a slight breakdown. He kissed someone- Furthermore he kissed a guy, and not just any guy, a guy with a known boyfriend. Man did he have problems.

Yes, it was also known around base that Soap and Roach weren't in a closed relationship and Ghost never thought he was that type of guy. But damn him and damn Soap, the lad was a good kisser.

With a sigh he collapsed onto his bed, throwing his mask off onto his bedside table and tried for at least a few minutes of shuteye before it was time to be back on duty and training the rookies. Until it was time to be Ghost again. That short exchange in the hall with Soap was the most relaxed he’d been in months since his last leave and he was almost aching for it again.

Before he knew it though the sun was rising and it was time to be awake, it felt like he barely got any sleep as he dragged himself out of bed and pulled his mask back on before heading into the mess hall. He found a spot tucked away into a corner by himself with just a simple cuppa coffee before Johnny bound into the mess hall with his usual grin, his neck covered in illy hidden hickies.

The sight caused an unusual heat to rise to Ghosts face which caused him to scowl and tuck away further into his corner, he couldn’t decide if he wanted to punch something or drag Soap down by his collar and make him go dumb around him like he'd done with a few of his one night stands.

With a low growl he sipped on his coffee and sighed, he was at war with himself and didn't want to do anything to fix it.- Well that's not entirely true, he wanted to fix it, he just wasn't entirely sure how to, or even if the how was possible.

Yey of course as the fates would have it, Soap noticed him tucked away in his corner of solitude. So Soap and his ever boyish attitude he made his way over to Ghost and took the seat across from him, grinning mischievously and propped his head onto his hands, his elbows resting on the table. “Hey there lover boy”

Ghost blue screened for a moment and nearly choked on his coffee mid sip causing Soap to burst out into laughter.. “I- what??”

“Naethin but a joke, just thought it’d be fun to see your reaction after that stunt ye played earlier.”

Ghost blinked. And then blinked again before trying to focus his attention back onto his coffee. “I was out of line for that- Shouldn't have done it, was just tryin’ to prove a point, more than a dog on a leash an’ all.”

Soap merely shrugged, unbothered by Ghost's dismissal. “Ye got naethin tae worry aboot, been tryin to egg ye on fur ages now an’ Roach dinnae mind any about it no aen, lad was all jokes aboot it when I was freaking out this mornin’, want to compare note an’ what nae.”

A slight blush rose to Ghost face no matter how hard he tried to fight it as he simply stared at Soap, words almost failing to form. “You- Roach wanted to do what? Wait… You talked about me kissin ya? Didn’t think it was that big of a deal, wasn’t even my best work.”

Soap chuckled and shook his head slightly, “Nae naethin like that- Well, kinda actually… ye terrifying and if ye didnt already know it everybody thinks ye attractive juist naebody has the balls to make a move on ye.”

Ghost sat there mouth agape, and his blush darkened to the point it was finally noticeable and before he could respond Soap spoke up once more. “Meh and Roach are havin a movie night tonight, naething serious, just a bit o’fun, time to relax an’ all- ye mair than welcome to join us”

Ghost paused and swirled his coffee around in his mug for a moment or so, the two simply sat in silence for a couple minutes as Ghost thought before he spoke up. “What movie did you two pick?”

Soap grinned, “The Princess Bride, it's a timeless classic that ye cannae go wrong with- Got a projector fur the room an’ everything.”

Ghost nodded, placing down a now empty mug and then nugging down his mask once again. “We’ll see about it.” And with that he stood and quickly vanished from view, being the ghost he was known to be.

Soap rolled his eyes at the dramatics but he was giddy at the thought of Ghost possibly, maybe, showing up for movie night. He knew there was a slim chance that something would actually happen between him, Ghost and Roach but there was always that one percent of possibility and that's what Soap decided to focus on. He loved Roach but damn was Ghost enthralling.

.𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤. .𝆤࿙࿙࿚๋࿙࿚ ⊱♡⊰ ࿙࿚๋࿙࿚࿚𝆤.

The hours passed and the day went by as usual, Ghost was outside working the recruits half to death, terrorising another generation of soldiers. Soap wasn’t being a menace for once, he was working with Price on the logistics of certain types of explosions and trying to explain the maths of how each of them worked. And Roach, Roach was tucked away somewhere doing who knows what but at least everyone was staying out of trouble.

As the sun began to set on the day Soap ended up back in Roaches bed, tucked into his side (so sue the man if he liked being the little spoon on occasion) and the movie played on the wall. About 30 minutes or 45, neither were sure there was a slight knock on the door.

“Doors open!”

There was a pause, it seemed like a moment of hesitation but then the door opened and there stood Ghost. Instead of being dressed in his usual tactical gear he was wearing a black hoodie and a matching pair of sweatpants. Even his mask was more casual, this one only covered about half his face, showing off his hair- which was a dirty blonde and messier than you'd think possible.

“I’m still invited, yeah? Not too late am I? Couldn’t decide if I should show up or not-”

“Aye! Of course Ghosty! Plenty of room in the bed, come on in.”

Roach laughed softly at his boyfriend's excitement yet shifted slightly to accommodate for another person joining in their not so large bed. Ghost ended up nestled in between the two, Soaps legs were draped over his and Roach was nestled into the crook of his arm. It was… warm, comfortable even and the movie held a nice ambiance to the background.

The movie played and the three laid there cuddled together, a few teases and jabs here and there were exchanged but overall everything was peaceful and Ghost felt context for the first time in a very long time. As the credits began to roll Roach was falling asleep on Ghost, and Ghost had found himself absentmindedly playing with Soaps hair- No one dared mention that in case he’d stop upon being called out for being soft.

“Simon”

The other two looked up at Ghost as he spoke, the rumble of his chest when he talked rosing Roach enough to light a confused spark in their eyes. “Huh?”

“My name- It’s Simon… Don't use it too much though- Or in front of the rest of the team, but my name's Simon.”

Soap grinned, and Roach simply nestled back into Ghost's side but that didn't mean he didn't kiss Ghost's cheek first. “Pleasure tae meet ye then Simon~”

#cod #simon ghost riley #ghost #ghost cod #fluff #gaz cod #roach cod #poly 141 #gaz call of duty #gary roach sanderson #ghoap #ghoaproach #price #price x nikolai

[rybonucleic-ket]

south park ships i enjoy (part one; there will be more im just too lazy rn)

CREEK: if you don't like them i don't like you idc. they're so boyfriends. they are boyfriends. they canonically stay together for 40+ years. they hold hand. canonized crack ship turned best pairing in whole show. they are so wholesome <33 fuck you if you hate creek.

STYLE: my babies!!!! i love them very much! they love each other very much :) they beat up cartman together. they love each other so much it's painful. style breakups make me cry.

KENMAN: prob my favorite cartman ship. listen, cartman's an asshole, but he and kenny have matching necklaces and kenny puts up with his shit better than anyone else in the main four and cartman gives kenny troll headphones to watch movies with to make sure he doesn't get sad. they always laugh at stupid shit together while style stares at them in exasperation you can't change my mind.

STENNY: i love. i need no reason to love. i love them. super fucking problematic depression inducing family buddies later to become rehab buddies. trauma bonding of the finest flavor. mutual understanding is off the charts. both can appreciate quiet and watch cartman and kyle constantly fuckin scream at each other like 😐😐 they tell each other secrets at 3am change my mind

CUTTERS: actually so underappreciated. cartman is a dickwad but butters actually likes him. definitely more than other characters like him. they hold hand and cuddle and butters kiss cartman. i love them quite a lot <3

BUNNY: I don't know anyone who hates bunny. bunny is fluffy and wholesome. if you hate bunny we can't b friends. two most shippable characters in the series. n they're so t4t, whether genderfluid kenny x genderfluid butters, genderfluid kenny x transfem marjorine, or transmasc kenny x transmasc butters, they're so t4t idc idc.

#south park #creek #sp creek #craig tucker #tweek tweak #style #sp style #kyle broflovski #stan marsh #kenman #sp kenman #kenny mccormick #eric cartman #stenny #sp stenny #cutters #sp cutters #sp buttman #butters stotch #bunny #sp bunny #cartters

[thebattleofstarcourt]

₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ.

“give it up for eddie munson, a free man at last!” robin yelled, holding her glass up in the air as everyone cheered.

“i was in jail for two days.” eddie said, sipping his beer.

“it was the worst two days of my life.” you pouted, putting your head on his shoulder.

“yeah cause fighting interdimensional monsters is so fun.” steve said, rolling his eyes.

“don’t be such an anti-cupid, steve.” nancy teased.

“yeah,” robin said. “young love is beautiful.”

“hear that, baby?” eddie asked you, pecking you on the cheek. “we’re in love.”

“‘course we are.” you said. “i wasn’t gonna call up my asshole cousin to get harrington out of jail.” 

“woah, woah.” steve protested. “what is it? hate on steve day?” 

“no, that’s february 4th.” robin said.

“that’s your birthday, robin.”

“i’m assuming you won’t get me anything, so i took matters into my own hands.”

“you’re so — ”

the two began arguing as an annoyed nancy got up to escape to the bathroom, leaving you and your boyfriend virtually alone.

“thank you.” eddie said. “i don’t think i would’ve been here if it wasn't for you.”

“don’t thank me, eds.” you said. “i was lying before, i would’ve done it for anyone. including steve.”

“i’m not talking about the lawyer,” he said, turning around to face you completely. “i mean, that was really fuckin’ helpful, and i immensely thank you for that, but i’m just talking about in general. believing me ‘n shit.”

“i’ll always believe you.”

“yeah, you say that, and i’m really flattered, but i’m just saying it would’ve been really easy to not believe me. But you still did, and you got everyone else on board… if you didn’t then i probably would’ve been face down in a ditch, bludgeoned to death by the basketball team or something.”

“i’ll always believe you, eddie.” you repeated, cupping his face in your hands. “even when it’s crazy, or unbelievable, or if everyone else in the world doesn’t – i’ll always be right here.” 

he smiled, his cheeks squishing in your hands. “i think you’re way too good for me.”

“so i’ve heard.” you laughed. “i missed you so much.”

“can’t go two days without me, baby?”

“after all this shit,” you said, “i can’t go two minutes without you.”

“‘m not opposed to that.” he said, releasing his face from your hands and resting his head in your neck. “you can’t get mad at me for blastin’ my music at 2 am when you’re tryna sleep, though.”

you grimaced. “maybe i’ll just sleep at my parent’s house.”

he whined dramatically, the vibrations on your skin giving you goosebumps. “fine, but you’ve gotta listen to somewhere in time with me, ‘kay?”

“i guess they say love’s all about sacrifice...”

“that reminds me.” he said, looking back up in your eyes. “i love you too.”

“was waitin’ for that.” you smiled, pressing your lips against his. what started as a teethy, chaste kiss turned deeper when he slid his tongue in your mouth.

“woah, gross!” robin yelled, pulling the two of you out of your moment.

“thought you were pro-love today, what happened?” you asked.

“that was before i saw eddie’s tongue enter your mouth.” she said, fake gagging. “now i’m disturbed.” 

“that’s a funny way of sayin’ you’ve never been frenched before.” eddie said, laughing at his own joke.

“gross.” robin mumbled. “dudes are gross.” nancy laughed and threw her arms around her, patting her shoulder in reassurance.

“mmhmm,” you said, the cheap beer you were drinking finally hitting your head at you leaned into eddie for another kiss. “let’s show ‘em how it’s done, munson.”

he smiled and kissed you again, dramatically ramming his tongue into your mouth over and over until he could hear steve and robin’s cries for them to stop.

#wc:623 #robin is an aquarius she told me herself #the teens (sans jonathan bc i didn't know where to put him in i'm sry bby) hanging out >>> #eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson drabble #stranger things 4 #stranger things #eddie the freak munson #stranger things season four #stranger things s4 #stranger things 4 fix it #fix it fic #joe quinn #joseph quinn #joseph quinn drabble #joseph quinn fanfiction #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n

[stanheightsimp]

I wrote this quickly to distract myself from my burnout. Sorry, it's badly written and sloppy, a bit. There will surely be corrections in the future, when my mental health is better !

Group Therapy | Adam Stanheight x /Leon Kennedy

Adam must take part in group therapy. He meets a survivor of Raccoon City. Since Amanda and Leon are both in DBD, I'm obsessed with the idea of a Saw and Resident Evil crossover (and also because Leon and Adam are comfort characters). | 2478 words

Adam Stanheight stepped hesitantly into the overheated room, nervously fidgeting with the excessively long sleeves of his flannel shirt. He didn't want to do this. Fuck, he hated this kind of thing. Group therapy. For people suffering from PTSD. Great.

It was his therapist who'd sent him there "an indispensable step in his healing process". Supposedly, Adam was too self-focused on his suffering. Supposedly, it would do him good to find other people who had it as bad as he did. Blah, blah, blah. Fucking idiot therapist. As if he could understand what Adam was going through. As if anyone could understand what it felt like to wake up in a tub of dirty, cold water, seeing a person saw off his foot, , get shot by this person, and be left to die for seven days in the dark, without food or water. Adam decided he'd do the bare minimum, even put all the ill will in the world into it, so they'd leave him alone, or even, oh fuck, that was what he wanted, kick him out of group therapy for being unbearable.

He sat down grudgingly on one of the folding chairs arranged in a circle in the center of the room, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms over his chest, reluctant to cooperate. A few people were already there, people in his age bracket. At least, that was something. Adam didn't really like people from his parents' generation.

His gaze met that of a blond boy with hair like the lead singer of the Backstreet Boys (Adam hated the Backstreet Boys). Blue shirt open over a white T-shirt, sky-blue jeans, big clear eyes, and eyes rimmed as if he hadn't slept in days.

Leon Kennedy met Adam's gaze and wasn't sure whether he liked him or hated him. His old self of a few years ago would have liked him, probably. Leon liked people, trusted them without restraint. He believed in many things, was unfailingly optimistic, and managed to find beauty in everyone. Even when people were capable of the worst, he could find the best in them.

Well, that was then. Leon clung desperately to the ghost of the carefree, optimistic kid he'd been before Raccoon City.

"We have a new member," declared the group therapy organizer, and Adam rolled his eyes. "Adam, stand up, would you like to introduce yourself?"

No, fuck no, I don't want to introduce myself, I don't want to be there, I want to disappear.

Adam stood up with a sigh.

"My name's Adam. I'm twenty-five years old. And four months ago, I was a victim of Jigsaw. He locked me in the bathroom, and I almost died in there. And… that's it."

The assembly said a unanimous "hello Adam" which Adam felt was forced and hypocritical. Fuck, he hated group therapy. Everyone came not to support or listen to others, but to be supported and listened to by someone, to have someone sympathize. Basically, this kind of therapy was the most singularly selfish thing Adam had ever seen.

"Was there any particular reason he captured you?" asked a girl, older than Adam but not by much.

Are you fucking kidding me? You really think this asshole needs a reason? You're such an idiot! Adam tried to reply, but just shook his head.

"Actually, maybe there was a reason. I was suicidal, in a way."

"What do you mean, in a way? You either are or you aren't, there's no in-between." commented a teenager laconically.

"Shut the fuck up, I didn't fuckin' ask for your opinion." Adam replied, sitting back down.

The therapy organizer intervened, asking with forced enthusiasm and empathy, someone else to talk about him. At first, Adam couldn't help rolling his eyes as he listened to the other people's testimonials, and especially as he saw the sympathetic nods.

Leon didn't say much either. But he did listen. He listened a lot. He seemed to really listen to what others were saying. He didn't necessarily propose solutions, but offered a listening ear, a real listening ear.

Then Adam decided to speak up:

"Before the trap, I was… I was convinced I was nothing. I was alive, but I was nothing. I didn't even want to live. Today, I want to live, and I've realized it, but I'm just… too broken to live. I have nightmares every night. Horrible nightmares. I can't get into a bathtub without thinking about the trap. Everything brings me back to it."

He took a deep breath, holding back the rising tears. And it was Leon who came to his rescue by speaking up, diverting attention from the dozen or so curious faces scanning Adam, probably waiting for him to burst into tears.

"I was in Raccoon City when it happened. September 30, 1998… It's a day I'll never forget. Somehow, I made it out. But too many others...weren't so lucky. But deep down, I know that the cop inside me died that day. If I could just forget what happened that night, the pain—even for a second."

Leon swallowed his saliva with difficulty, his eyes moist and his fingers clutching the fabric of his jeans.

"Thank you for your testimony, Leon" said the organizer. With a wave of his arms, he invited the participants to repeat what he had just said, and there was a brouhaha of more or less sincere "thank you for your testimony, Leon".

The rest of the session passed laboriously, and when it was over and Adam had put on his jacket, Leon approached him. The room had already all but emptied.

"Hi. My name's Leon." "Adam" he replied in a formal, wary tone. "First session, huh?" "Yeah, and probably the last." Adam replied with a deeply jaded look.

Leon could see through Adam's game. He knew that Adam's cynical, sarcastic attitude was just a mask. Just as Leon had closed in on himself like a shell, Adam was trying to repel others.

They stared at each other for a long, long time. Soon, the room was completely empty.

"Shall I walk you back to the parking lot?" offered Leon to Adam. "Why not" the dark-haired man conceded.

Five minutes later, they were in the men's bathroom, Leon pinning Adam against the wall, pressing his body against his and greedily exploring his mouth, Adam's arms around Leon's neck and Leon's hands on Adam's hips.

"Is this how you welcome newcomers?" sneered Adam against the blond's lips, as he slid his knee between his legs. "Just you. Only you." moaned Leon in his ear, before disengaging himself from the brunet's embrace and wiping his lips. "See you at the next session, Stanheight?" "Wait, all this so I can continue your bullshit therapy?"

Leon gave him a mischievous smile, placed a tender kiss on his cheek, and exited the restroom. Just before, he turned back to Adam and whispered in a soft voice:

"It's a date, yes." "Shit."

And so it was that Adam Stanheight didn't miss a single session of group therapy.

#saw #saw 2004 #adam radford #adam faulkner #adam faulkner stanheight #adam stanheight #leon kennedy #leon kennedy x adam stanheight #adam stanheight x leon kennedy #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #dead by daylight #dbd

[udekai]

Murderdock Analysis

Okay, I'm sorry this even exists. It's a long one, boys. It's a very. Very. Long one. absolute dumptruck under the cut

“Dying for applause.” Is that a part of it? Stick likely taught him to kill, but The Hand raised him to be merciless. They drove home the point that the strong survive, noted at the end of this scene. They made him fight for everything, likely tooth and nail, in an attempt to make him stronger, and he excelled at it, but he never got applause for that, did he? He says later that “as any parent would do, they sent me away.” He did everything they asked and more and all it did was make them afraid of him. He hasn’t known an ounce of kindness, pride, or understanding since his parents died. How much of this is a performance to impress someone, literally anyone who might look at his work and for once say “well done”? It seems like the kind of role that Wilson Fisk might have filled.

“I need somebody to know.” Know what, how the world wronged you? Look at you, taking the first steps that would normally be done in therapy. It’s a shame the guy listening can’t/won’t help you because you’ve impaled him. Given how few panels are between this and Jack’s murder, I have to assume not much time had passed. Wiki says Jack felt mounting pressure to pay medical bills, and I know those can last for literally lifetimes, but I feel like the stress would be freshest closer to the accident, hence the stupid decisions. 

Get a load of this shit. You see that fuckin nine year old? That is Jack Murdock’s doing and this is now a Jack Murdock hate post, at least E-65 Jack Murdock. Matt is literally in the gym with him when he’s murdered. Did he not think for one single second that maybe having your son with you while you’re waiting for people to kill you might endanger him? Jack Murdock failed this boy so bad. This is almost on par with a murder-suicide. Was that it? Was Jack so broken about the death of his wife that he thought they should all die together? Was he simply so negligent that he didn’t consider they might also kill his son? Or was he so prideful that he thought he would be able to stop them when they came? If Matt hadn’t been put in a position where his father let him die, he might have come out closer to a Netflix!Matt, but no. He had to meet Stick in the most vulnerable seconds of his entire life. Over the course of a few minutes, this boy went from orphan straight to child soldier and that is 100%, unquestionably Jack Murdock’s fault. 

Right into the manipulation with this kid. Just take him while he’s in the most emotionally fragile state and tell him that the way to solve it is by killing people. Tell him that he’s special and use this as ammunition. Tell him he’s the best weapon, and that he would be selfish to turn down the opportunity to act like it. Make sure he never aspires to be anything else. Tell him how fortunate he is to have met you. I hate him and I’m glad he got stabbed. 

Fucking Christ, what is he here, like 13? I hate Stick, but I will give him credit for being the last person in Matt’s life who would ever in a million years give him credit for doing a good job. At least in this universe, I’m seeing a manipulative sack of shit that at least pretends to care about Matt’s wellbeing sometimes, and that’s more than can be said for the rest of his life. 

Mourning trauma 2, the squeakquel. That’s fine, just kill father figure #2. Matt really needed another excuse not to get attached to people, you can tell by how happy he’s been up until this point. The world really took everything he had from him, and then found more. 

Yeah, see, he’s repeating my point back to me. “Stick could see… He has nothing left. Nothing to fear. Nothing to hide. Without a life to cage him, he can be anything.” This is where the little bastard finally broke, I think. Had he continued under Stick, would he be functional? Fuck no! But he might have stood a chance of one day stepping down. Now, he’s committed, because from the second they laid eyes on him, the first thing these people thought was “this thing’s going to be great at killing people.” This is where Matthew Murdock gave up hope of being anything but a murderer, because nobody saw anything else in him. No soul, no heart, not even potential intelligence. Just a weapon. I’m glad he killed as many of you as he could. This is where he realized he was, and always would be, alone. 

Did he see them as a family? Did they fuckin make him kill his first lover? How bitter he must have been, knowing he gave everything he had to this cult, this fucked up, bloody found family, only for them to fear him for doing exactly as they asked. “I am something more than they could ever understand.” Even here, he’s an outsider. He doesn’t have allies, just sponsors. Even with all the power in the world, he had nothing at all.

This is a man who had everything he could possibly want, and found it lacking. He wasn’t alone because he was too powerful, he was alone because everyone in his life since Maggie’s death ensured it. He believes himself to be all-powerful. He sought every opportunity to grab more, because he forgot that there were other things. The idea that there may be something else to want besides more control doesn’t exist in his mind, because it has not been allowed to. The most powerful man alive, and he’s still operating on an arbitrary ruleset ingrained by a system that rewarded emotional disconnect and apathy.

He looks kinda young in that reflection of the first panel, dont he?

In a moment of hope, he sees a possibility for human connection of any sort, believing that someone who shares his experiences is the only one who could ever know that he had merit once. Who the fuck else would ever believe that he had potential to be a good person? He would literally rather destroy someone to make them understand what he’s been through before he explained it to another human being, because the only method of communication he was ever taught was cruelty. 

See, this is subtle, here. “Your desires are of no importance.” “Powerful” my pasty white ass. This comic started with him deciding, “No, you know what, you don’t own me, I want a real human connection.” He went about it the wrong fucking way, but please refer back to “Violence is the only thing he’s ever been taught, and therefore the only thing he understands.” This guy was probably 9 years old the last time anyone ever gave a fuck what he wanted. No wonder there’s this obsession with power; it’s obtainable for him and he’s been made to obey. The world has taken everything from him, and The Hand ensured it stayed that way. Power was the only thing Matt ever stood a chance of taking back, and this is him realizing that even that wasn’t doable so long as he was still cooperating. It was probably shortly before he met Gwen that he realized that he had been manipulated his entire life, and there was never anything he could have done about it. 

He's addicted to control, because it's something he hasn't had for most of his life. He wants somebody to stop him because then the failure won’t be his fault. He can forgive himself for losing against a worthy opponent, but backing down has never been an option. He’s always wanted out, but even if The Hand allowed its people to retire (doubt), he can’t do that. I consider most of his goading Gwen later in the comics to be suicide attempt #2. 

This and the panel with little tiny Murderdock all curled up in a ball are enough to make me go completely insane. It’s telling that he considers this a connection. My meow meow in christ, you deserve better. Not because I think he has many redeeming qualities, but because he’s a human being. 

Because what did Jack’s code of honor get Matt? A lifetime alone, full of servitude and trauma, that’s right. 

Is he tho? Yes, he's pulling the strings here, but he's also not allowed to drop them.

This has major “Oh, shocker, Daddy’s disappointed in me. Again.” energy. Look at that face. He knows they’re going to try to kill him, and he’s counting on Gwen to do it first. 

I think Matt was interested in George Stacy’s decision for more than just his obsession with Gwen. I think he had an academic interest to see if Jack’s mistake was one that any idiot would make. If Jack were alive, and he renounced Matt for what he's become, I don't think Matt would give two shits, because what's his opinion worth? But if Jack still loved him anyway, which I think is more likely, then we get something spicy. Then Matt has to make peace with the fact that Jack loved him, but his pride was still worth more. I bet Matt’s thought about that before, and maybe he’s interested in knowing if every man’s pride is worth more than their child’s life. 

I know this is actually a pretty pragmatic thing for Matt to tell him, but I am once again pointing to how nobody has given a shit what Matt wants for years, too busy trying to keep him occupied in a way that’s conducive to The Hand’s purposes. (Or Stick’s. And honestly, probably Fisk’s. And even more honestly? Jack’s. See: no dont go outside ever, you need to go to law school). I’d also point to the fact that Matt expects nobody to ever understand him. If he told someone his side, would they care? Would anyone care?

Okay, I’m still stuck on this. Did Matt see The Hand as a family? A fucked up, brutal, broken family? Because it’s easy to read this as a pride thing, right: “Not them.” Not them, as in “I don’t want them to win” or not them, as in “I want to pretend I was important”? Because it’s not like The Hand is going to purposely draw out his death. If they had it their way, they would make it quick. Why is it so important that Gwen does it? This doesn’t look like the face of a man who wants his apprentice to kill him so she understands bloodlust. He would look a little more hopeful if that were the case; no, this guy’s begging, or as close as he gets to it. 

Or is it justice? Is this the sense of justice that lives in every Matt Murdock in every universe? Because dying by The Hand is just another death, rather than vengeance as Gwen is owed? Maybe Matt’s so cynical in this universe that justice has never been served. He’s certainly never witnessed it. Maybe he wanted Gwen to stop him so bad, because even if he had to be the bad guy, at least he would know that in isolated incidents, justice still existed.

tearing my hair out tbh

#dd #daredevil #comics #earth-65 #earth 65 #matt murdock #matthew murdock #murderdock #gwen stacy #character analysis

[puffpasstea]

Could you do a blurb where Matilda and Harry get in an argument? Angst + make-up fluff/smut?? I LOVE your writings so much!

Of course babes. Thank you SO SO MUCH for reading and for your very kind feedback 🥹

I HONESTLY DON'T KNOW WHAT THE FUCK THIS IS!!!! So, since the next few chapters of the Matilda sequel are gonna be heavy on angst and smut, I tried to do something a bit different with them having an argument. Just so you guys don’t get sick of it haha. But also I feel like those two can never run out of stuff to argue over. Anyways, I'm not sure this ended up being what I wanted but still I HOPE YOU LIKE IT! PLEASE LEMME KNOW WHAT YOU THINK EVEN IF YOU HATE IT

Warnings: angst, and angst i guess? idkkkk. 

——

Just tell him how you feel. Keep things focused on you. Don’t put any pressure or expectation on him. You can’t control the outcome but you can always be honest. My therapist’s words of encouragement ran through my head as I looked through my bag for the spare keys to Harry’s place. I knew he wasn’t home. In fact, I was counting on it. He’d given me this key “for emergencies,” and, well, “I’m in love with you and think I’m dumping my boyfriend for you” felt kind of like an emergency to me. Emotionally, at least. So, I got to his place, take out in hand, hoping to give myself a pep talk and make myself comfortable before he got here. 

Being at his place, even in his absence, felt like a safety net. Everything around here was so Harry. From the vinyl records on the entryway table, to the floral arrangements in every corner, to the teabags in the jar on the kitchen counter. Surrounded by his favorite things; his coat hanging by the door; the bookmarked novel he’d clearly been reading earlier in the day; it immediately made me feel a lot more grounded. I’d clearly made the right choice making this the setting of our upcoming conversation. I decided to set some plates out for dinner, and, while in the kitchen, pour myself a glass of wine. 

 A couple glasses in, and a Netflix episode later, Harry was still out. I contemplated texting him to ask when he’s coming home, but, that, in itself felt like too much pressure. 

A bit before midnight, I heard the front door unlock, Harry’s voice mumbling something I could quit hear. 

“Look, the media is always gonna find something to say. Yes, but- no, I am listening.” He seemed to be on the phone. Evidently having a difficult conversation. My courage already wavering, I took a sip out of my wine glass for some comfort. 

“I realize that.” Harry was now walking in a circle in his entryway. “You said it yourself ‘it’s a judgement call. Well, I’m exercising my judgement and choosing not to make any public statement. Yeah…I’m aware. Yes, it’s a risk, but-yup. Look, Jeff. I’ve had the worst fuckin day. Can we talk about this tomorrow, please? Just wanna go to bed right now. Ok. You too.”

The worst fuckin day? That’s a sign that I shouldn’t say anything. Right? You can do it. You can do it. You can do-

“Jeez- Holy fuck! Matilda!!! You almost gave me a heart attack!” Harry jumped as he walked in and saw me on his couch. His frame barely illuminated by the TV light in the dark room. “What are you doing here?” Immediately regretting my decision, I set my wine glass down and began to pack my things. Harry didn’t seem to notice though.

“You know what? I don’t even care right now, I’m just so glad you’re here…” he plopped onto the couch near me, and, without hesitation, wrapped both of his arms around me, squeezing me tightly and pulling me closer to his side. 

“Y-you are?”

“Course, baby. I’ve had the longest, most awful day. No one else I’d  rather come home to.”

“Oh?”

The words come home to made alarms go off in my brain. Suddenly, rather than feeling the comfort of being in this space, with Harry’s arms around me, telling me what anyone with half a heartbeat would long to hear their lover say, I felt suffocated and terrified. 

Harry took a deep breath relaxing his back into the couch and blinking repeatedly. Suddenly, he noticed the take out containers full of Chinese food and the plates I’d prepared for us. 

“Oh. You brought food.”

“Yeah, you want some?” I got off the couch as quickly as possible, busying myself with arranging some plates for the two of us, glad for any excuse to create some distance between me and him. 

“Guess I could eat. Not all that hungry though. Just wanna talk if that’s alright?”

“S-sure. About what?”

“I just mean about my day. Could use your opinion on this actually. So, the director, who I thought was my friend, has completely flipped these past few days. The way she’s been dictating the scenes, I mean- even when we’d had countless conversations about how I would like these moments to be portrayed in the film. At the same time, though, I don’t feel like I get a say in this. I’m not an actor, you know?”

“What you mean you’re not an actor? That’s absurd, Harry.” I passed him his plate 

“Thanks, hun.” He picked up a couple of chopsticks and started digging into his food right away. So much for not all that hungry. 

“I just mean….I’m not that experienced. It’s not like my instincts are based on any real evidence for what might or might not work for the film. I’m basically a baby by industry standards. It just feels so wrong to ignore my instincts. Feel like I’m just going through the motions, you know?“

I’d lost track of what Harry was saying relatively quickly, getting lost in how he was feeling. I could see by the look in his eyes, his incessant foot-tapping, his slumped shoulders that he was quite torn about this. In other words, he was being genuine and vulnerable right now. Opening himself up to me and sharing his doubts. Is this what being in a real relationship with Harry would be like? Coming home to the same apartment every night; talking about our days over a shared meal; discussing our thoughts and feelings? Every day? Being there for each other all the time? Is this what I was signing up for by telling him how I feel about him?

“Anyway, I know that I don’t wanna let people down. With an album, you know, it’s just me. It’s my name on the cover and if it doesn’t do that well, it’s my fault. But, this kind of thing…acting, it’s a team effort and there are so many people depending on me to do my part and…ugh and this other thing Jeff just called me about. I just can’t think straight right now..” Harry was still unfolding his quandary out loud, the earnestness in his voice, his genuine desire to not only bring the best version of himself to this project, but to make sure he was accountable to his cast mates was very touching, yet not at all surprising. That’s the kind of person he is. It’s part of what makes him so special. Unfortunately, though, it’s also why we can’t be together. He deserves more. Better. Someone who can be as open and giving as he is. Someone dependable and strong. Someone…not me. 

“Umm, I- uh. It’s getting late, Harry.” I set my plate down and looked sprung the room for where I’d tossed my bag and coat.

“W-what? But we’re in the middle of dinner!”

“Yeah, I- umm- sorry. I didn’t realize what time it is and I need to be up early, so.”

“Please don’t leave.” He looked up at me. Even in the dim light of the room, I could tell that he really needed someone. That someone wasn’t me though. 

“I’m sayin’ pleas here. I’m not usually the one who does the begging in this dynamic.” He smiled in an attempt to lighten the mood. My inability to respond in kind was surely hurtful. I needed to get out of here as soon as humanly possible wirh as little damage to our relationship as I could pull off. All of this required a certain level of delicacy that I’m sure wasn’t native to me. 

Harry grew more desperate the longer it took me to decide to stay. I felt cruel for not agreeing right away. But I was doing it to spare his feelings. 

“Fine, whatever, let’s fuck.” He set his own plate down right next to mine and picked up a napkin to wipe at his mouth. 

“E-excuse me?”

“You’re gonna have to get on top though. I’m wiped.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Think I don’t know why you’re really here? Or why you’re leavin so suddenly?”

My stared at him incredulously with a frown on my face, shaking my head.

“You came here for sex and when I didn’t jump your bones right away you started packing up and walking out. I’m saying forget the talking. We can fuck, if you’ll do most of the work.”

“That’s gross. You’re such a dick.”

“Oh, now I’m the one who’s gross, am I? You’re the one who’s here for an orgasm and you won’t even get it unless I do it for you. Do me a favor, next time, skip the dinner. Makes me think you’re actually interested in spending time with me. Mixed messages.”

“Fuck you, Harry. Have a nice night.”

As I rushed out the door, I heard Harry curse something under his breath. 

***

I didn’t see Harry for a couple of days after that night. And I couldn’t wait to go to my therapist at the end of the week and let her know what a moron she is for suggesting that I finally talk to him. How successful that whole thing was. I felt my blood practically boil at the memory of how crude he was. How unbelievable it still seemed to me, though I’d witnessed it with my own eyes, that he went so quickly from being self-aware and trying to open himself up to me to being remarkably insensitive at the drop of a hat. Though he undoubtedly hurt my feelings and the fact that I never got to tell him how I feel will always haunt me, in a way, I was glad the night went the way that it did. Because how could I trust someone who could change so quickly? And who would use our very dynamic against me in an argument? 

At the end of the third night, as I lay in bed, tossing and turning and thinking about all the clever comebacks I could’ve used to shut his smugness down, I heard a loud knock at my door. Flicking my bedside lamp on, I checked the time on my phone. It was 2 a.m. who on earth would come knocking at my door at this ungodly hour. 

I ran to the door, looking through the peephole and hurrying to unlock it once I’d seen who was standing on the other end. 

“Matilda!!! I’ve missed you!” Harry’s uncoordinated form stumbled inside as he bent down to give me a hug. I could smell the alcohol on his breath right away. 

“Oh my god, Harry, are you drunk?”

“Extremely!” He giggled and kicked off his shoes walking straight into the living room. “Look, I got food!” He announced unnecessarily loudly. At this rate, the neighbors were definitely going to complain soon. 

I ran to catch up with him and snatched the bag of food out of his hands. “You got Chinese food…and it’s from the same restaurant…Harry is this food three days old?”

Harry burst out into an obnoxious chuckle. In his current intoxicated state, things seemed about ten times funnier. 

“Of course not! I was…just trying to be cute.”

“Why are you here, Harry?”

“ I already told you.”

I shook my head. 

“I miss you.”

I rolled my eyes, setting the food down in the kitchen. Harry followed behind me like a puppy. 

“I know you’re mad-“

“I am mad.” I affirmed, eager to express my indignation. 

“I know I was an ass.”

“You were an ass.” I sat down on the couch and Harry surprised me by instantly dropping to his knees and wasting no time in burying his face into my lap. His arms came up to wrap around my waist, his face nuzzled closer and closer to my thighs as he spoke. 

“I know we’re not a couple or anything. You and Chris are a couple. Not you and me. No you and Harry. Nope….”

His fragmented rambling was already tugging at my heartstrings. I wondered if this was just his drunk talking or if he’d still stand by his actions in the harsh, sober light of day. “I just had to see you. Hate the idea of you being mad at me.”

My fingers instinctively moved to comb through his hair and scratch at the base of his scalp. He let out a big, contented sigh, a smile appearing on his face, his eyes fluttering shut at the sensation. “That’s nice…” he mumbled, his voice muffled by the fabric of my clothes. 

“I…just didn’t realize you found me so selfish, Harry.” I spoke, still massaging his head. 

He jolted up at my words, but I pushed him gently back into my lap, his arms tightening around my waist as a counter argument. As if attempting to squeeze the idea out of me. “I don’t find you selfish! Promise! I wouldn’t be here if I did!”

“ you think I just come to you for sex…”

“I dunno. I feel like you’re never interested in anything else about me.”

Hearing him confess that broke my heart. My hands stopped in his hair, my chest aches, I was speechless. 

“It’s okay though…think I care enough for the both of us. Just wanna spend any time with you that I can. I’ll take what I can get.”

“Harry, that’s not-“

“It’s alright. I know my dick is magical.” He giggled at his own joke like a schoolboy. 

I pulled at his hair. 

“Ouch! You’re the one with the pain kink not me.”

“Focus, Harry. I do care about you. Okay? You have to believe me. I know I’m not the best at showing it, but I care about you a great deal. really! I might even say that I lov-“

“Listen, I know we have a rule about sleeping at your place but could I stay? Just for a little while? Until the sun comes up?”

“Of course. Uh, why don’t you get off the floor and come up here.” 

“Good idea.”

Harry shuffled over on unsteady feet and sat next to me. I did my best to hug and pull him closer the way he’d done the night that he stumbled upon me in his living room. In fairness, nothing much was registering in his drunk, sleepy mind, but he still laid his head on my shoulder and fell asleep. That had to count for something. At least for the time being?

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #matilda #harry styles fluff #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst